Daddy Boss

by Claire Bishop

  “Ben, good to see you,” I said as I approached him. “Looks like everything is in order for the coming school year.”

  “Looks like it, yeah,” he said, pushing his glasses up his thick nose. “Now what we have to worry about, besides the usual stuff, are the drugs. I've got some leads, and I was wondering if you'd be able to help me look into them.”

  “I'd be happy to. What do you have?” I asked.

  “That depends on how deep you wanna go,” he said, with a mysterious light sparkling in his eyes. “And whether you're prepared to, how shall I say this, cross certain boundaries.”

  I nodded. “This is why you recommended me for this position, isn't it?” I asked. “Because of how I handled the boundaries at my previous school.”

  He nodded. “We need a man who isn't afraid to get his hands a little dirty. To bend the rules. To do what's necessary for the greater good. You get my drift?”

  “I do, Ben, I do. And after what you guys told me about the drug situation at this school, and how things were starting to spiral out of control with the last principal, I knew what I needed to do.”

  “Good. Then I trust that you won't mind coming with me on a little 'lunch break' off the school premises.”

  I grinned. “Not at all, Ben, not at all.”

  “You know, of course, that we have to keep the details of our little field trips strictly between you and me, right Everett? If the school board were to find out about this stuff, they might not be too happy about it, you know? Both of our jobs could be on the line.”

  “It's a risk I'm willing to take if it means we have a shot at stopping the flow of Rocket into the school,” I said, and I meant every word of it. “I was criticized by a lot of people for my hard-handed, old-school approach at my last job, but look at the results. I got the gangs out of the school, and I got kids who had been flunking out before to pass and even get good grades.”

  “And that's exactly why I wanted you here. We have to get these drug-peddling bastards out of this school before they wreck any more lives. One death is one too many, and I will not have any more kids dropping out or, God forbid, dying under my watch.”

  “I hear you, Ben, I hear you. Well, let's get this little 'lunch hour expedition' underway, shall we?”

  “Yeah, let's go.”

  I followed Ben out of the office block through the parking lot, and from there we walked across the football field and then headed out via the gate there.

  “Where are we going, Ben?” I asked as he headed across a busy street and down an alleyway.

  “There's an apartment building three blocks away,” he said. “Apparently, a lot of kids go there to buy Rocket, and plenty are using there as well. I figure if we can scope it out for a while, we might be able to learn something. You know, get closer to finding out the identities of the dealers themselves. If we can get a small-time dealer to squeal, we can start figuring out who's higher up the chain. Those are the fish we really wanna catch.”

  “Alright. What's the plan?”

  “You up for a bit of climbing?” he asked with a grin.

  “I never say no to a good climb,” I replied. “What are we scaling?”

  We headed down another alley, and things were definitely looking sketchier here. He pointed at a fire escape on the side of a building.

  “If we can get up to the seventh floor via the fire escape there, we'll have a decent view of the outside of the apartment we're checking out. Only thing is, getting onto the fire escape itself – we'll need to maybe push a dumpster under it and climb up like that.”

  “For a man who's almost 50, you have quite a sense of adventure,” I remarked with a chuckle.

  “I just wanna get these damn drugs outta my school! Twenty-two years I've been working at JFK High. Twenty-two years, Everett. And I've never seen things get as bad as they were last year. This drug has to be stopped, and I'll do whatever it takes to stop it.”

  “That's the spirit, Ben. I've got a feeling you and I are going to get along quite well. Come on, let's get up on the fire escape.”

  We pushed a large crate up the alley, positioning it just below the fire escape. After that, because I was fitter and stronger, I climbed up onto the fire escape and then hung down and offered a hand to Ben to help him up, too. With a bit of effort, I was able to get him up.

  “Alright, now let's head to the seventh floor. Keep your footsteps light; we don't want anyone to hear us out here.”

  I nodded and crept up the fire escape with Ben following me and doing his best to remain quiet. We reached the seventh floor soon enough, and as Ben had said, there was a window through which we could see apartment 702, the one apparently used by the drug dealers. Not much seemed to be happening, though. We could hear someone was inside from the thumping bass coming through the door, we couldn't actually see anything.

  “What time should we be back at the school?” I asked Ben.

  “In no more than an hour, otherwise people are gonna start getting suspicious.”

  “Let's hope something happens in that time. I would hate to have done all this for nothing.”

  “Me too.”

  We each took five-minute shifts watching, one person looking through the window and another looking down at the alley, making sure nobody had spotted us on the fire escape. Eventually, though, when it was my turn to watch through the window, the door finally opened.

  “Ben,” I hissed quietly and snapped my fingers to get his attention. I pointed in the direction of a scrawny-looking teenager dressed in hip-hop-style street wear with long, greasy blond hair was talking to a muscular, tattooed man in his twenties in the doorway. The man handed him a large bag of something, which the kid tucked under his shirt, and then he and the man performed some sort of elaborate handshake, after which the man went back inside.

  “That damn kid goes to our school,” growled Ben. Suddenly he shouted through the window. “Hey, Panetti, we got you! What the hell are you doing here, huh?”

  The kid spun around on his heels, his eyes wide with fright. Then he saw us looking through the window and immediately bolted.

  “Damn it, Ben, why'd you do that?” I snapped as I pushed past him and raced down the fire escape.

  “Sorry, Everett,” he called out as he hurried down after me, huffing and blowing. “I just lost my cool when I saw that damn kid!”

  “If he gets away, we've wasted this whole hour!” I shouted back at him.

  As I got to the second floor, I saw the kid burst out of the door below us. This was it, this was my only chance to get him, and there was only one way to do it.

  “What the hell are you doing?!” shouted Ben as he saw what I was about to do. “Don't; you'll break your neck!”

  But I knew what I was doing, and I knew I could make the jump – so jump I did. I soared through the air, accelerated with a terrifying speed toward the ground, and then landed with a tumbling roll, and came up running. I sprinted after the kid, gaining quickly on him. I grabbed the hood of his sweatshirt – and that's when he spun around and slashed at me with a knife.

  I whipped my arm away just in time, but at the same time, I lunged forward and grabbed his wrist swiftly. I could have broken it, but he was just a kid, so I gave it a good painful jerk, forcing him to drop the knife, and then I yanked his arm behind him and pulled it up behind his back.

  “Ow, ow, you're hurting me!” he whined.

  “And you just tried to stab me, you lil' punk! Get the drugs out from under your shirt, now!”

  “I don't know what you're talking about!”

  “We saw you, Panetti,” Ben gasped as he came stumbling along, panting for breath and sweating profusely. “And what's more, I've got it on video. The drugs, and you taking a shot with the knife at Mr. James here.”

  “And I believe that with those two charges put together – drug dealing and assault with a deadly weapon – you're looking at a minimum of 10 years in prison,” I said to the kid.

  That was when he b
roke down, and tears started streaming down his face.

  “I... I was just tryin' to make some extra cash, alright? My dad is a drunk, and he lost his job six months ago. My mom don't have much education, and she's tryin' to support our family on a waitress' pay. I'm sorry, Mr. Henderson, I'm sorry... I just needed the money.”

  “Well how about this, Panetti,” I said. “That is your name, right?”

  The kid sniffed and nodded.

  “You give me the drugs, and I'll give you whatever their street value is – and we won't turn you in.”

  “You... you won't?” the kid asked between sniffles.

  “No, but there's one condition,” I added.

  “Alright, I'll do anything man, anything...”

  “We need you to help us out. I’ll make sure you have money to help your family. But we need to know that we can trust you – because you if try to feed us false information, or lie to protect those drug-dealing scumbags, just remember: we can turn you in and that means a minimum 10-year prison sentence. Got it? So, are you gonna help us?”

  He nodded, still sniffling with tears in his eyes.

  “I'll help,” he said. “I just have one question.”

  “Fire away, Panetti.”

  “Who... who are you?”

  I grinned before replying.

  “I'm your new principal, Mr. Panetti.”

  Chapter Five

  Vivienne

  I watched through the window as Everett walked out of his house, holding little Jane's hand as she waddled along beside him. He seemed to be such a caring and loving father – far more so than many of the parents I had to deal with at my daycare. I couldn't help wondering what had happened to her mother.

  Across the road, they got into Everett's truck and headed out. I was about to get ready to head out myself when I decided I should probably check on Mrs. Dobbins after she’d scared the crap out of me the night before, thinking she’d seen someone trying to break into my car. She felt terrible when I told her how badly she’d scared me. I looked over, but her car was already gone.

  Truth was, I needed to be gone as well. My assistant, Graciela, would have opened the daycare up by now, as the kids would already be arriving. I got my packed lunch and other things together, locked up the house, and then headed over to work.

  I got there in 15 minutes, only just managing to beat the morning traffic. Graciela was waiting at the gate of the daycare, which was a converted townhouse.

  “Morning, Viv,” she said with a smile as I walked in. “We've got six kids here already; you better go check in on them while I do the gate.”

  “Will do, Graciela.”

  I hurried into the indoor play area, and was relieved to see the six kids, all aged between two and four, playing peacefully on the play mats on the floor.

  “Hey, guys,” I said with a cheery smile. “How are all of you this morning?”

  “I'm happy,” replied one toddler with a big grin. “Daddy got me a new toy.”

  “I got a new toy too, Miss Andrews!” exclaimed another one.

  “And me, and me! I got one too, I got a toy too!” piped up a little girl with her hair in piggy tails.

  I just smiled and sat down cross-legged on the mat with them, ready to hear all their exuberant tales of the toys, real or imaginary, they had received from their parents in recent days. As much as a handful as they could be, I really loved these kids and treasured the time I got to spend with them. And, of course, I did my very best to instill good values, polite manners, and solid morals in them, as was my duty as an educator.

  At this moment, I couldn't help thinking of Everett. Did he also do his best to instill the same kind of values in the children under his care? I imagined that he was big on discipline and old-fashioned values; it was just the kind of vibe I got from him. And those were the sorts of things that kids needed these days, certainly now more than ever. I wondered how his first day at JFK was going. I knew the kids didn't go back for another few days, but it had to be pretty stressful getting everything ready for the new academic year, especially as the principal. I briefly considered messaging him to see how things were going, and even got my phone out... but then decided not to. I didn't want to be seen as coming on too strong or anything.

  The morning went by uneventfully, and some of the kids got picked up by the parents who worked half days. After this, a bunch of older kids, who had just gotten out of kindergarten for the day got dropped off. These ones were a bit tougher to deal with; having been stuck with the rules and regulations imposed on them in kindergarten all morning, they just wanted to run wild, with all the pent-up energy and frustration they had built up inside them. It took a bit of effort to keep them all in line. It was good that we had a nice large playground area out back, with plenty of jungle gyms and other things for them to climb on and lots of space to run around.

  At the end of day, between four and five, they all got picked up, and Graciela and I could finally close up shop and head home for the day.

  “Have a good evening, Graciela,” I said to her.

  “You too, Viv. Oh, by the way, it's my birthday tomorrow.”

  “Well happy birthday! Would you like to take the day off? I don't mind.”

  “That's very kind of you, but no, it's okay. But later this evening my husband and some friends of mine are going out for a drink or two. Nothing crazy, of course. You're welcome to come along and have a drink if you want.”

  “Hmm, that actually sounds good. Where and when?”

  “There's that little Irish pub just two blocks away from here. It's good for quiet, relaxed drinks; they have that pretty outdoor seating area.”

  “Ah yes, MacFey's. What time?”

  “Eight or so. You in?”

  “Sure. So tomorrow you'll be... 22?” I asked with a wink and smile.

  “Twenty-two indeed! Plus 16! Ha!”

  I laughed. “You still look great. And even though you're close to the big four-zero, they do say that 40 is the new 30.”

  “Ha, I'll remember that, Viv. See you later.”

  Later That Evening

  I was surprised about how busy MacFey's was, considering it was a Tuesday night. I pushed my way through the crowd, got myself a beer at the bar, and then headed out to the outside seating area where Graciela, her husband Miguel, and a couple other people were sitting.

  “Hey, Viv!” said Graciela with a big, broad smile as she saw me. “Come on over!”

  I headed to the table and took a seat next to Graciela. She handed me a glass already filled with wine and clinked her glass against mine then we both had a sip of our drinks.

  “Everyone, this is my boss, Vivienne,” said Graciela to the dozen or so people who were seated around the table. “And she's awesome!”

  I blushed as everyone greeted me warmly, and exchanged smiles with people around the table. I felt that I had to speak as well, though.

  “And this, everyone, even though you already know her in a personal capacity, is one of the most dedicated and hard-working people I've ever met! Thank you for being such a wonderful asset to Peter Pan Daycare, Graciela. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

  Everyone gave her a hand, and I could see that there were tears rimming her eyes.

  “Thank you so much, Viv,” she said as she took my hand in hers. “It really means a lot to me to know that I'm appreciated.”

  “You really are, Gracie, you really are.”

  We chatted and drank some more, and then eventually I had to go to the bathroom. On my way back to the table, I was weaving my way through the crowd gathered by the bar when a single word caused my blood to freeze instantly in my veins.

  “Alicia!”

  I stopped dead in my tracks. I hadn't heard that name for two years now – but it had been my name for the first 25 years of my life.

  “Alicia Ray, it is you, isn't it?”

  I turned around slowly, dread and fear running cold through my veins. I saw a familiar face looking at me,
smiling, from where she was seated at the bar.

  “Angie Wells,” I said, relief rushing through me. “We were in English class together senior year.”

  “And biology,” she said. “Wow, I can't believe it's already been 10 years since graduation. What are you doing down here in Irvine? You don't live in San Francisco anymore?”

  “No, I moved down here two years ago. I own a daycare here.”

  “A daycare, huh? Well, you always did like kids. I don't think I could do that myself; they drive me crazy.”

  “So, what are you doing down here?”

  “I just moved here from San Francisco, too. I got a job working in software engineering here. It's growing in this part of the state.”

  “Ah, good to hear.”

  “Hey, come sit down with me, Alicia! We've got a lot to catch up on. I mean, it's been 10 years after all. You still with Simon? I always thought you'd marry that guy. Did you?”

  The mention of his name sent shivers of dread and revulsion running down my spine.

  “No, no, I'm not with him anymore. We broke up a long while ago.”

  “Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm single, too, actually. Maybe one night we go out; I'll be your wingman, you be mine, as the guys would say.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Uh, look, about Simon and me, things really didn't end well. And actually, my name isn't Alicia anymore.”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “My name is Vivienne now.”

  I didn't tell her my last name – I had to really trust people before I ever told them my last name.

  “Vivienne? What?”

  “I had to change my legal name to get away from Simon. He, uh, he turned out to be kinda psycho. As in I’ve practically changed my identity to get away from him psycho.”

  “Shut up! Seriously?”

  I nodded.

  “Yeah, seriously. So, look, please, I have to ask you, please don't mention to anyone from the old days that you saw me, okay? I've gone to a lot of trouble to make sure that he doesn't find me. I really, really don't want him to come looking for me, and believe me, he's psycho enough to stalk the social media accounts of everyone in our senior year just to see if there's any hint of where I am. So please keep it a secret, okay?”