#1-3--The O’Connells

by Lorhainne Eckhart

She pulled the phone away, hearing the woman still talking, and silently cursed her daughter under her breath, calling her every name she could think of and wanting to put her hands on her and shake her. Of course, Alison had probably deleted the messages. Who else had called? There was also the fact that the principal was asking about her husband.

  She put the phone back to her ear. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kramer, but I didn’t get a message. If I did, I’d have called you. I’m just at work right now, but…”

  “I’m sorry to call you there, but this is a situation that can’t wait. I need to meet with you now.” There was something about the way she spoke, the demand, that didn’t quite sit right. Jenny sensed the principal’s annoyance loud and clear. That was just something her daughter was gifted at, pushing everyone’s buttons, especially hers.

  She stood up, seeing the time on the big round analog clock, eleven thirty. It was close enough to lunch. “Well, I’m at work, as I said, but I’m about to step out for lunch. I could stop by.” She looked at the door again and spotted her boss, Joel, who was ten years her junior, coming her way. He was balding, with a beard, a little on the heavy side. She put everything into the call now, determined to get off the phone before he walked back in. Family problems and unruly teenagers were exactly what she couldn’t bring into work if she wanted to keep her job.

  “So you’re on your way, then.” The principal had a way of talking that made Jenny feel herself beginning to sweat. She was unable to shake the idea that she’d just been called in to the principal’s office.

  “Yes, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said, then hung up just as the door opened and Joel strode in. He gave everything to her in a look. At times, she didn’t know what to make of him and couldn’t tell what he thought of her.

  “I’m going to take off for lunch, if that’s okay?” she said and dumped her phone in her purse, then rested it on the desk, which was neat and tidy. Standing there waiting for the man to tell her it was okay was humbling, just another reason her job was nothing more than a job. Money didn’t grow on trees, so there she was.

  “You get the statement of reconciliation over to Clive, and the overages?” Joel said. Right, he was still second-guessing everything she did. He looked hard at her, or rather at her breasts.

  “An hour ago,” she said.

  Then he was at his desk against the other wall, lifting papers and giving everything to them. For a second, she didn’t think he would answer about lunch, and she pulled in a breath and waited.

  He finally lifted his gaze after what felt like minutes but she knew had been only a few seconds, as if he’d decided what she could do. That was something she hated, being treated like a child.

  “Sure, just make sure you punch out, as well,” he said.

  That was another reason why Joel was the boss of this chain, because he was even better at pinching pennies for the corporation than she suspected the CEOs were themselves. God forbid they had to pay an employee an extra five dollars, but she forced a smile to her face, taking in his frown.

  “Absolutely,” she said, although she wondered at times whether he even went through the timecards to make sure everyone had actually punched out.

  It took her nine minutes to drive to the school, and she pulled into the student parking lot because there wasn’t a spot left in the staff parking. She stepped out, feeling the angst, and pulled out her cell phone as she took in the teens leaning against an old Plymouth. She locked the door of the Jeep, then pulled up her daughter’s name and sent off a quick text.

  Are you in class?

  Three dots appeared. Why?

  She rolled her shoulders. Alison knew every one of her buttons to push, including how to not answer a question.

  Your principal called. She started walking around the kids and into the school, waiting for her daughter to respond.

  She could see the three dots as if Alison was thinking of what to say, but then there was nothing.

  No idea why she’d call me? Jenny wrote. Two could play that game.

  Three dots appeared again. What did she say?

  She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes as she pulled open the school door, not expecting to have to come back only a few weeks after registering her daughter for the start of the year in August.

  Well, why don’t you tell me? I’ve been called in to the office because of a problem with you—by your principal!

  There was nothing, no dots.

  “Little shit,” she muttered under her breath, seeing her daughter was now giving her the silent treatment. Great, just great. She was walking into the lion’s den, so to speak, and she didn’t have a clue what her daughter had done.

  She spotted the door to the office and pulled it open before stepping in and seeing four women at desks behind the counter, each with a computer in front of her. No one was looking her way as she stood there waiting. She took in her cell phone and didn’t miss the lack of response from her daughter still, but she tucked it into her purse.

  She looked at the big clock on the wall and knew she had to be back to work in half an hour, so she finally cleared her throat, but no one looked up. Geez, uncomfortable. It reminded her so much of when she’d gone to school.

  “Um, excuse me…” She tapped her fingers on the counter, as well.

  “Just a minute, please,” a gray-haired woman said without looking up. It seemed it was another minute before she looked her way. “Yes, can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see the principal, Mrs. Kramer. She’s expecting me.”

  The woman stood up. She wore polyester knit slacks and a navy shirt that wasn’t all that flattering, and her hair looked like it needed some work. “Can I tell her your name?

  “Yes, Jenny Sweetgrass,” she replied, having to fight the urge to say more.

  “Just have a seat,” the woman said.

  Jenny stepped away from the counter, seeing the cheap padded chairs, and opted to stand. She wanted to get in and get out. She reached for her phone again, hoping her daughter had replied, but she took in the blank screen and knew that would have been too easy. When she looked up, a tall woman with light hair and a navy jacket, a little on the heavy side, was striding up to the counter.

  “Jenny, I’m Helen Kramer,” she said. “Thanks for coming right down. Come in. Let’s talk in my office.”

  She followed Mrs. Kramer around the counter and down a hall, then into an office at the end. The woman had to be close to six feet tall and was likely two hundred pounds. As Mrs. Kramer sat down behind the desk, Jenny also took a seat and spotted a file in front of her with her daughter’s name printed along the top. Great! She wondered what notes they were keeping on her. Judging by the volume of pages, a lot.

  “First, I just want to remind you that we haven’t received your daughter’s transcripts from the school in Atlanta,” Mrs. Kramer said. “These are records we need…”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll call them again and find out what’s taking them so long, but when you called, you said there was a problem with my daughter. I do have to be back to work soon, so I’ll need to leave,” she said, not missing the annoyance on the principal’s face.

  “Well then, I’ll get right to it. Your daughter is a troublemaker. She’s been kicked out of physics class and hasn’t turned in one assignment, and of the twenty-four days she’s been enrolled at this school, she’s missed nineteen—all parent excused.” Mrs. Kramer was looking at the file and then flicked her blue eyes Jenny’s way.

  Her teeth were clenched so hard that her jaw ached, because she realized it was sarcasm in the principal’s tone. “Parent excused?” she said, wondering whether that was her voice that had squeaked. How many parents had sat right where she was and had to listen to this principal tell them how rotten their kids were? With Alison, she knew without a doubt it was true.

  “Yes, it appears your husband has excused her,” Mrs. Kramer said. “We have guitar lessons three times, sick with the flu four times, a grandmother in the
hospital, a holiday, and…”

  She wondered if she had stopped breathing as she stared at the woman, who was now returning her stare.

  “So, as I said when I called you, I left you several messages, and here we are. Imagine my surprise when I pulled her records and saw that the registration you filled out has only your contact information, not your husband’s. There’s no information about her father, so of course, given all the absences, I have to ask…”

  Mrs. Kramer was leaning over her desk and pulled her pen out, clicking it over and over expectantly, ready to write.

  All Jenny could think was to wonder what her daughter was thinking. She wanted to wring Alison’s neck. At the same time, she wasn’t about to come clean to the principal about her life or her daughter’s, because personal was personal. That was just not something she was about to do.

  “The absences? This is the first I’m hearing about it, and I can assure you her father didn’t take her out of school…” She lifted her hands in the air and then let them fall on the purse resting on her lap. Seeing the expression on the principal’s face, the open question, her mind was now spinning on how to answer, so she finally said, “Because her father is dead.”

  Chapter Six

  Ryan loved everything about Livingston, how it was nestled under the big sky in one of the most beautiful parts of the world, in Paradise Valley, surrounded by the Absaroka Range in the east and the Gallatin Range to the west, next to the Yellowstone River, with the best fishing. He didn’t want his little piece of the world featured on the front page of any travel magazines, as that would only attract the crazies. Putting it on the roadmap meant it would be flooded by tourists every year. No, he loved the balance there and the fact that the crime rate didn’t compare to the average in the rest of the country.

  Being under the radar was often a good place to be, in his humble opinion. He couldn’t imagine living anywhere else—but he hadn’t been able to get his rather prickly neighbor, Jenny, who seemed to be steeped in mystery, from his mind.

  What did he know about her, really? How many years had it been since he’d picked her up and slept with her? That night of sex was as vivid in his memory as if it had happened that very day. How had he not placed her the minute he saw her?

  Everything about her left him with the feeling that something about her didn’t add up, but at the same time, he had to remind himself she was just a neighbor, and she wasn’t his business. Curiosity about her was a one-way ticket to a problem he didn’t need or want.

  He took in the streets and the people as he drove in his pickup. When he spotted his brother Marcus driving the opposite way toward him in his cruiser, he lifted his hand in a wave as he passed. Just two brothers who had raised hell in this town and were now running it, his brother the cop, him the ranger. Both were the law around here, on and off the streets. At one time, they had been young hooligans, out of hand, thinking they were outsmarting everyone. That was likely why he was as good at sniffing out trouble as he was now.

  He wasn’t sure what made him look, but over on the sidewalk by the high school was the source of his distraction, Jenny. Her dark hair was hanging loose, and she was dressed casually in a short jean skirt. She seemed agitated, with her cell phone to her ear, talking.

  He knew he should keep driving, but he just couldn’t help himself: He jerked the wheel, pulled over fast, and stopped, then shoved his truck in park at the curb and took in the shock on her face as she pulled the phone away from her ear. He stepped out of the truck and walked around, realizing an instant too late how this might look.

  “Everything okay?” he said. He wondered what his brother would say if he knew what he’d done.

  “Fine. Why…why did you pull over?”

  It was just something in her voice, but he sensed she was pissed off, upset, and something else. At him? Maybe. She gestured toward his truck, and he took in the cell phone she was still holding. He didn’t bother to pull his shades off in the bright Montana sun. Just something about wearing them made him feel like he could sense so much more about a person, because they couldn’t really tell where he was looking. It also created a sense of uneasiness that he liked.

  “Saw you, is all,” he said. “You looked a little on edge, upset, and I wasn’t happy about how we left things yesterday.”

  Namely, he wasn’t happy about how she seemed to think he’d left her when it had been the other way around. Her message had been loud and clear, sneaking out while he was asleep without even a Dear John. Had he wanted to see her again? Then, absolutely.

  She lifted her hand, and for a second, he wasn’t sure what she was going to say. He took in the school behind her and the kids out front. Some of them he knew, either from their parents or from something they’d done, but many he didn’t.

  “You know, I don’t really have time for this right now, or for you,” she said. “I thought I was pretty clear. You don’t need to be friendly, and I think you made a point of setting me straight. Fine, I get it. Right now, I have more important things…”

  Her cell phone was ringing, and he didn’t miss the name of the mini market that flashed on the screen before she answered. He was pretty sure she swore under her breath before putting the phone to her ear.

  “Hey, Joel. Yeah, I know I’m late and was supposed to be back at work, but I’ve kind of run into a little problem with my daughter, and I can’t make it back…” Her hand was over the back of her neck, and she turned and gave him her back. She was on edge. He didn’t have a clue what Joel was saying to her on the other end, but he made no move to get back in his truck, which he now could see was parked at an odd angle.

  “Yes, yes, I know, but I’ll definitely make up the hours…”

  Okay, so her boss was giving her the gears. He could do the decent thing and walk away, but he knew Joel could be kind of a prick at times, not the easiest guy to work for. He’d always been out to prove something to everyone.

  “Sure, dock me, fine…” She slapped the side of her leg, then ran her hand over her forehead to brush back her hair. He could see how agitated she was. “Fine, fine,” was all she said, then hung up and let out a sigh.

  He was pretty sure Joel had hung up on her first, by the way she pulled the phone away from her ear.

  “Look, I seriously don’t have any patience left, Ryan, so if you don’t mind, I have a daughter I need to track down. I don’t want to have to answer to any more questions or explain myself or be accountable to one more person—”

  “Your daughter’s missing?” he said. He took in the kids and wondered what Alison had done now. There was just something about her that reminded him so much of that song “Bad to the Bone.” She was on a one-way road to finding herself in cuffs, in front of a judge, with a record, or worse.

  Jenny groaned and squeezed her phone. “Oh, I’d say she’s ignoring me, not answering my texts. I just got called in to the principal’s office only to find out that she’s missed most days of school so far this year, and this is the first I’m hearing of it. Guess she thinks not answering me and ignoring me is the way to handle it. Now my boss is pissed at me, and my job, which I hate anyway, is basically hanging by a thread. Even the principal is questioning everything about me, and now I have to deal with the likes of you? Seriously, Ryan, I have no time, so…”

  He reached over and rested his hand on her arm. “Hey, just take a breath. I’m not your enemy here. So when was the last time you talked to her?”

  She said nothing for a second and just stared at him, then blinked. There was something about her eyes, deep brown, and he was pretty sure it was those eyes that had hooked him before. They were unforgettable. She lifted her hand again and let it fall to her side.

  “Oh, about an hour ago, as I was pulling up to the school, I texted her and asked her where she was. When I said I was at the school, she went silent. You know how teenagers can be a pain in the ass, but Alison is just…” She didn’t say anything else.

  He could sense that
the teen was the source of many sleepless nights, angst, and a ton of stress. Alison was just the kind of kid who could make people decide that having kids was not something they ever wanted to do.

  “Difficult, I can see,” he said. “A truant, for sure. Have you tried tracking her? Do you have that app?” He took in her confusion and pulled out his phone. “Give me her cell phone number and I’ll see where she is.”

  It was another second before she shrugged and rattled off the number.

  He sent off a quick text to Marcus: Check this cell phone and tell me where it is.

  He waited a second. Three dots appeared. Why?

  Just do it.

  Give me a minute. Just pulling into the office.

  “So what are you doing?” Jenny asked, and he glanced over the rim of his shades at her. The questions in his mind about her just seemed to be piling up. So she had been in Atlanta. For how long? Why had she disappeared the night she’d slipped from his bed? She had a husband, a daughter, a family, but how had she come to live right next door to him? When would be a good time to find out? Was she divorced, still married, or what? Maybe after they tracked her daughter down, he’d take some time to cut right to it and get some of the answers he seemed to think he needed.

  “Finding out where your daughter is,” he replied. “It’ll take a minute. So is this something she does often?”

  Jenny glanced away, and he sensed she was pissed off and had likely taken the question personally or something. There was just something about her, the emotion, the personality, but he sensed there was more about this woman. He shouldn’t want to know, but he just couldn’t help himself.

  “So you automatically assume that my daughter is a problem, like she does this all the time? You probably think she’s irresponsible, walking trouble, and I must be a bad parent for having a kid who acts out this way.”

  He just stared at her, taking in his phone and the lack of response from his brother. He’d said a minute, and evidently he’d meant it. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I’m having a little trouble with the leap you’ve made. I guarantee you have no idea what I’m thinking. It’s called getting answers. I don’t know your daughter or why she does what she does, but I do know what I see. She’s angry and acting out. You’ve texted or called her, but she hasn’t answered you.”