“Like the title implies, he’ll mostly be dealing with truancy and looking into students we suspect do not truly live in our district,” Dr. Wraige answered.
“What about all the issues Scott Ricci handled?” Skye asked.
Dr. Wraige snickered and shook his head dismissively. “Surely you aren’t worried that we’re about to have a mass shooting event.”
“Although that isn’t my primary concern, an incident like that isn’t as improbable as you seem to believe. In fact, I’ll send you the latest report from the National Association of School Psychologists.” Noting his uninterested expression, she added, “We live in a rural area where nearly every household has at least one gun and kids are taught to hunt at very young ages.”
The superintendent frowned and crossed his arms. “I hope you aren’t—”
She interrupted. “I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Obviously since I’m married to police officer and grew up on a farm, I’m not suggesting that guns are evil. What I am saying is that a troubled adolescent would have access to a vast array of weapons.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know Tavish was an MP in the army and is as qualified as Mr. Ricci to keep our school safe. In addition, as he is a full-time employee versus Mr. Ricci’s part-time status, it is much more likely that he’ll actually be on-site in case of an emergency.” Dr. Wraige raised a rust-colored brow. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” Skye was relieved to hear that the new guy had safety training, but she was still concerned about Scott’s other duties. “What about handling conflict mediation among the students, working with parents seeking information and help with their child’s substance abuse, and talking to kids who have problems?”
“Isn’t all of that in your area of expertise?” Dr. Wraige smirked.
“It is,” Skye agreed. “But there is only one of me and I’m split between three schools. You may recall we have never been able to hire a social worker that lasted very long, which means I end up taking on most of those responsibilities too.”
“How about Ms. Townsend?” Dr. Wraige countered, then swayed as if he were dizzy. “And the guidance counselor?”
“Piper will be gone at the end of the May when her internship ends.” Skye shrugged. “And sadly, the guidance counselor only handles scheduling. He claims to be too busy with his duties as football coach to be involved with anything else. Quite frankly, with all the great guidance counselors out there, I have to wonder why his behavior is tolerated.”
Dr. Wraige made a noncommittal sound, then backed toward the still open door. “Look, I really need to use the restroom, so let’s see how it goes. Maybe Ms. Townsend would be willing to take a position here after her internship is complete. I’ll look into finding the funds to hire her or another psych.”
“That would be great.” Skye wasn’t about to hold her breath, but she added, “Even a part-time person would be wonderful.”
As he hurried away, he threw a dart over his shoulder. “It might be helpful if you talked to your godfather. As president of the school board, he’d be able to deliver the votes I’d need to add a position.”
And there it was. The reminder that, like Tavish, Skye, too, owed her job to nepotism. She should have realized he would bring up the circumstances of her own employment.
Of course, no one had been fired so she could be hired. And in all the years that she’d been working for the districts, they’d had significant difficulty securing additional support personal.
Before Skye could come up with a pithy response to yell after the superintendent’s retreating figure, the wall-mounted alert beacon next to the backstage exit began to flash and a loud siren stared to blare, “School lockdown in effect. Go into the nearest room, lock the doors, turn off the lights, and remain silent.”
Chapter 2
Draw Back Your Bow
“Son of a biscuit!” Chief of police Wally Boyd slammed down the telephone.
His wife, Skye, would have a fit when she found out that her godfather, Charlie Patukas, was under investigation by the state police. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The woman Wally was truly afraid of was his mother-in-law. May would lose her ever-loving mind when she heard the news.
Speaking of which, he clicked his mouse and brought up the PD’s work schedule.
Phew! May was working her normal afternoon shift. She wasn’t due into the station until three thirty, and by then he’d make sure he was busy elsewhere.
Having his wife’s mom employed as one of the department dispatchers was tricky at the best of times. But with the man who had been May’s father figure for nearly half a century currently under arrest, Wally could only imagine what she might say or do or destroy in her quest to save him.
Wally leaned his head on the backrest of his chair and gazed at the ceiling. He probably should have given Skye a heads-up that the state police were looking into the allegedly illegal goings-on at the motel that Charlie owned. Then she could have prepared her mother for the possibility of his arrest.
Not that anything could have adequately prepared May, but she might have taken the news better from Skye and at least she’d be used to the idea by now.
Normally, as the Scumble River Police psychological consultant, Skye would have been read in on the sting taking place in their jurisdiction. However, because of her close ties to the suspect, the detective in charge had sworn Wally to secrecy.
In fact, he had been warned not to inform any of his staff. Scumble River was too small, and Charlie too influential, to risk a leak.
The state police probably only told Wally because they needed his help in concealing their investigation. They’d requested that he keep his officers’ patrol routes away from the Up A Lazy River Motor Courts and direct any calls to the PD from the motel phones to a special number.
Squaring his shoulders, Wally flipped open the folder sitting in front of him on his desktop and reread the contents. According to the reports that he’d received from the state police, they’d received numerous complaints from people who had patronized Charlie’s motel, alleging that criminal activities were being conducted at that establishment.
With Charlie running the motor court entirely on his own, as well as sitting on both the school board and the town council, Wally had prayed that Skye’s godfather had been careless rather than criminal. He’d hoped that Charlie was just unaware of the goings-on behind the closed doors of the cottages and not an active participant.
That still might be the case. However, the lead investigator had just informed Wally that when the troopers had moved in and concluded their sting, Charlie had been among the individuals taken into custody for questioning.
Thankfully, according to the detective, Charlie had had the presence of mind to call a lawyer. Wally was grateful that he didn’t have to figure out if it was ethical for him to do that for Skye’s godfather or not. If he’d had to arrange for an attorney for Charlie, it would have gotten him in a bind with the state police, an entity he depended on for backup. Then again, if he did nothing, his wife and mother-in-law would have been angry.
Relieved that the matter had been taken out of his hands, Wally smiled as he pictured his sister-in-law, Loretta Steiner-Denison, racing toward the state police district headquarters to defend the family’s longtime friend. The detective in charge of the case would never know what had hit her.
Until her marriage to Skye’s brother, Vince, Loretta had been a hotshot defense attorney in Chicago. Although after she and Vince started a family, she’d opened a small law firm in Scumble River, and her skills were still razor-sharp.
Wally sighed, laced his hands behind his neck, and tilted his chair back to consider his next move. He did believe that Charlie was, if not completely innocent, at least not technically guilty. And now that Loretta knew about Charlie’s predicament, it was only a matter of time until the rest of the family found out.
If Wally wanted a happy marriage and a good relationship with his in-laws, he’d better be the one to tell Skye so she could inform May.
Deeply absorbed in coming up with the best way to break the news, an urgent knock on his closed door made him jerk forward, and his chair came down with a thud. Before he could respond to the knock, Thea Jones, the dispatcher on duty, burst into the room.
Thea was a large woman in her early sixties wearing a slightly too snug uniform. A froth of brown curls liberally sprinkled with gray haloed her head was at odds with her no-nonsense attitude. This morning her usually ruddy complexion was ashen.
Wringing her hands, she rushed up to Wally’s desk and announced, “The high school is on lockdown and no one inside is responding.”
“What!” Wally jumped to his feet, instinctively checking to make sure his utility belt was around his waist and fully stocked.
Thea explained, “Ten minutes ago, the automatic notification system sent us a message. I tried to confirm, but when no one answered, I contacted Zelda.”
Early Monday mornings were often a bit chaotic at the school, so Wally had assigned Zelda Martinez to patrol that area. She was there mostly to slow down cars driving on the street in front of the building, but also to keep the parents who were transporting their children from jumping the drop-off line and causing a riot.
Motioning Thea to follow him as he headed toward the stairs leading down to the main level of the police station, Wally urged her to continue her report.
Thea drew a shaky breath, then explained, “When Zelda arrived, she found the front office and foyer empty. She tried to contact someone via text, but no is replying to her messages.”
“Right.” Wally nodded as he continued his sprint down the narrow steps, then made a beeline for his vehicle. “She’s following protocol, which dictates that she coordinates with a school official before proceeding any farther into the building.”
“Exactly,” Thea puffed as she ran after him, nearly slamming into his chest when he stopped and turned toward her. “She has requested instructions on how to proceed and backup to the location.”
“Tell her to hang tight.” Wally flung open the interior door leading to the attached garage. “I’ll be there in five. Check that she has on her vest and instruct her not to leave the lobby.” He grabbed his own body armor from the rear of the Hummer, fastened it over his chest, then slid behind the wheel and shouted at Thea, “Call all our officers in and alert the county sheriff’s department deputies that we may need them.”
Tires squealed as he pealed out of the garage, shifted into drive, and sped toward the school. His heart was in his throat. Skye was scheduled to be in that building, and his wife and their twins were his whole world.
Wally had been drawn to Skye since she was sixteen, but at the time, he’d been twenty-two, way too old to do anything about his feelings. In the back of his mind, he’d thought that if the attraction was still there when she graduated from high school, he’d pursue the matter.
Sadly, she’d gone off to college before he got up his nerve to approach her father. Considering their age difference, he wanted to get the man’s permission to date his daughter.
Wally had still intended to ask Skye out when she returned, but he never got the chance. Once she was gone, she rarely came back to Scumble River.
Although he’d hadn’t forgotten the sweet, smart teenager who had enchanted him, when it became apparent that she’d left town for good, he’d tucked her memory away and settled for someone else. That had been the biggest mistake of his life.
He’d ended up trapped in an unhappy marriage to a woman he had never truly loved. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her because she seemed too emotionally fragile to handle a divorce.
Clearly, he’d been wrong since his wife had run away with another man.
Everyone had been so sympathetic, but Wally had been thrilled. He’d nearly danced for joy that he was now able to pursue the woman he’d always wanted.
Unfortunately, before his divorce was final and he could tell Skye how he felt about her, she had agreed to a committed relationship with Simon Reid.
Wally knew that Skye wasn’t the type to date more than one man at a time so he’d kept away from her. But the minute that Reid screwed up and Skye dumped him, Wally made his move. He wasn’t about to blow his second chance at love.
It had taken him a while to convince Skye that he was the right man for her, but he finally had and they’d been married for a little over a year now. It had been, and continued to be, the most blissful time of his life.
When Skye had told Wally she was pregnant, his heart had nearly burst with happiness. He’d never thought he’d be a father—his ex-wife had blamed him for their infertility—and to have Skye and their baby was all he’d ever wanted. All he’d ever dreamed of having.
When it turned out she was carrying twins, he was over the moon. His wife, daughter, and son were everything in the world to him.
All of those thoughts crowded his mind as Wally pressed down harder on the gas pedal. His fear that Skye was in danger made him arrive at the high school in record time. He skidded to a stop in front of the building, flung himself out of the Hummer, and tore up the sidewalk toward the entrance—which were the only set of doors that were supposed to be unlocked while students were in the building.
Martinez met him in the empty foyer and reported, “Everything is quiet. Still no responses to my repeated attempts to reach someone.”
As always, Zelda Martinez was immaculately put together. Her ebony hair was wound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Her uniform was crisply pressed and her utility belt held everything required by the rules and regs.
Wally barely acknowledged her as he concentrated on texting Skye to ask her where she was and if she was safe.
When Martinez cleared her throat, without looking up from his cell, he said, “Staff is instructed to silence their phones during a lockdown, but they should be feeling the vibrations from your messages. Whose numbers do you have?”
“The principal, guidance counselor, and safety officer.” Martinez held up a tablet. “I’m following the agreed-upon protocol.”
“Right.” Wally stared impatiently at his cell phone, willing Skye’s gorgeous face to appear, indicating that she had answered his text. “I almost forgot you had that info available.”
The tablets and onboard computers in the squad cars were a recent, and anonymous, donation. Wally suspected his father was behind the gift. Carson Boyd was a Texas oil billionaire, but since his grandchildren’s birth, he’d been spending more time in Illinois than in his native Lone Star State. He’d even bought a house on the river not too far from Skye and Wally’s recently built home.
“It’s invaluable in this situation.” Martinez ran her finger down the screen. “I heard the call for backup go out on the radio. Once they arrive, the next step is to go room to room clearing the building.” She glanced up at Wally and quirked a raven brow. “Right?”
“Correct,” Wally confirmed as his phone chirped.
His gaze flew to the screen and Skye’s emerald-green eyes sparkled up at him. He touched a chestnut curl on the image and eagerly read her message.
I’m fine. The superintendent and I are secured backstage in the auditorium.
Wally hastily typed:
Thank goodness. Stay put until I come get you.
Skye responded immediately: What’s going on?
Unknown. We’re unable to reach Knapik, the guidance counselor or safety officer. Any idea where they are?
Safety officer was fired. Guidance counselor’s office is in the gym and Homer is probably hiding under his desk.
Give the superintendent your phone.
Will do. He’s been looking over my shoulder.
Wally waited a few seconds then typed:
&n
bsp; As you’ve read principal and counselor unavailable and no sign as to why the lockdown alarm was activated. Any ideas?
None. Follow protocol.
Wally pressed his lips together while he considered his options. According to Skye, the guidance counselor was a buffoon, and Wally knew from his own experiences with Knapik that the man was a coward. As soon as the alarm sounded, he could very well have escaped outside via the secret door he had concealed behind some curtains.
Besides, even if Wally located either man, it was highly unlikely that they’d have any helpful knowledge. And clearly the superintendent was in no position to make decisions.
Deciding he was on his own, and not altogether upset about it, Wally stilled his breathing and listened carefully. The complete silence was reassuring. There hadn’t been any shouting or the sound of gunfire, and that had to be a good sign.
Before he could issue an order to Martinez, Quirk and Anthony ran through the front door. Sergeant Roy Quirk was Wally’s right-hand man at the PD. The ex–football player usually worked second shift, but he almost always responded to a call for backup.
Anthony Anserello had been a part-timer for a couple of years, but as soon as he’d had the opportunity, Wally had hired him full-time. The slender young man was still a little green and needed to bulk up some, but he was eager to learn and had the makings of a fine officer.
Nodding at the two men, Wally took a deep breath and filled them in on the situation, then asked, “Everyone wearing their vests?” When Martinez, Quirk, and Anthony all nodded, Wally continued, “We’ll clear the main office first. We are looking for potential threats and any victims.”
“Arnold is in the squad car.” Martinez motioned toward the parking lot. “Should I get him? We’ve been working on bomb detection.”
The giant schnauzer was their newest officer. Mayor Leofanti had foisted the only partially trained police dog on Wally a couple of months ago and Martinez had volunteered to be his handler.
Body Over Troubled Waters Page 2