Preston’s look of surprise was obvious. “Matt Ross? As in...”
She knew exactly what he was referring to. Preston was aware of her history with Matt.
Matt responded with a chagrined look. “Yes, that Matt Ross.” He held out his hand to shake Preston’s. “Nice to meet you.”
Preston reluctantly took the hand he offered.
“Whoever grabbed Claire got away before I could stop him. The body is in Claire’s classroom. It’s the fourth—”
“I know where her classroom is.” Preston turned back to Claire. “Stay here. I’ll need to ask you some questions after I see the crime scene.”
She nodded, expecting it would be the same questions Matt had asked her. And she would have the same answers she’d given him. She didn’t know who’d killed Luke and she hadn’t seen her attacker’s face.
“I’ve already secured the scene,” Matt assured him.
Preston shot him a cautious smile. “You don’t mind if we double-check that, do you?”
She sensed a simmering dislike between the two men. It was more than their cautious smiles and easygoing manners. Beneath the surface, there seemed to be a palpable desire in both of them to strike out against the other. Matt’s folded arms as he informed Preston about the details of the case. Preston’s defensive stance.
She was glad when they both walked out. She wasn’t surprised that Preston was leery of Matt. After all, she’d cried on his shoulder numerous times through the years about her ordeal.
But what possible reason could Matt have against Preston?
* * *
He didn’t like it. Nope, he didn’t like it one bit.
Who was this guy who’d claimed Claire as his own with one call of her name?
A feeling of satisfaction had washed over him as he reached out to shake Preston’s hand. Claire had called him a friend and everyone knew what that meant—platonic, non-boyfriend friend. And Preston’s grip as they shook was firmer than it needed to be, an obvious acknowledgment of territory. His stance was clear—back off! Apparently, he hadn’t caught on to Claire’s reference to him as her “friend.” He was still clinging hopelessly to the delusion that they could one day be more.
It wouldn’t happen. If Matt knew one thing about Claire, it was that she believed love should be passionate and overwhelming...the way they’d once been. If there was no passion, in her mind, there was no romance.
“Claire said you were DEA. May I ask what you were doing here? Is the DEA performing an investigation we need to know about?”
“Luke was a DEA informant. We were hoping he could give us information that would break up a drug ring working out of the school.”
“What kind of drug ring?”
“It’s a new drug called Trixie. It’s a stimulant that—”
“I know it. High-priced. Very dangerous.”
“And popular with the kids. Our intel says there’s a major business working out of Lakeshore High. We were just starting our investigation.” They stepped into the classroom and Matt saw Luke on the floor, his throat slit and blood everywhere. His gut clenched. Luke had been his key to unlocking the drug ring operating in his hometown. Now, instead of an informant, he was a murder victim.
And Claire had somehow stumbled into the middle of his investigation and onto the radar of a killer.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Relax,” Matt said. “This isn’t my first crime scene. I know how to be careful.”
“I don’t care how many crime scenes you say you’ve been to, this one is mine and I say you need to leave. This isn’t a DEA investigation anymore. This is a murder, and homicide is my jurisdiction.”
Matt turned to look at him, the territorial protective vibe going again. This was his investigation. Claire was his friend. It was all about him, wasn’t it? “Luke was a DEA informant, and I’m still investigating a drug ring operating out of this school. I would like to be kept involved.” He could tell the detective wasn’t happy about his role and he wasn’t surprised, but he was also sure it had less to do with him being DEA than with him being Claire’s ex.
“Look, I’m not just some guy off the street. I’m an old friend of Claire’s and I don’t want to see anything happen to her.”
“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” Preston countered, turning to stare right into Matt’s face. “You’re the scumbag who wrapped his car around a telephone pole on prom night, then left Claire battered and brokenhearted while you took off to join the army.”
Matt shouldered his tirade. It wasn’t exactly correct. He hadn’t left Claire in the car. It had been weeks later that he’d left town when his prayers to God for her recovery went unanswered. He hadn’t been on speaking terms with the Almighty since. But Preston got the gist of the story correct, and who was Matt to squabble over details. He’d caused the wreck, then had left her when his guilt got too heavy to bear.
But that didn’t change today’s situation. Claire was in danger, and he wasn’t stepping aside this time.
“That was a long time ago.”
“That’s right, it was. Your connection to Claire ended the moment you walked out on her.” Preston turned and knelt to examine the body.
Enough talk. Matt got serious. “You are aware that Luke was dead long before he supposedly sent Claire that text message?”
“We haven’t even determined time of death yet.”
“I’ve seen my share of bodies. That boy has been dead at least four hours. Claire said she received the text an hour ago. Someone wanted her to come here, possibly just to find Luke, but maybe for more than that. Her life is in danger, and if you think I’m going to leave until I know she’s safe, then you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”
Matt walked out, leaving him to process the crime scene. He focused on trying to calm down, but it was a daunting task given the surge of adrenaline that had pulsed through his veins from the moment he’d heard that first scream, and reinforced from the realization that the woman on top of him had once been the love of his life. It had taken all his strength to pull away from her and lead her to a chair in the school’s office, but his instincts had kicked in, reminding him that his priority had to be preserving the scene and that meant getting Claire out of the area as soon as possible.
Preston’s men would go over every detail of that room and the body, but Matt didn’t need an autopsy report to tell him what he already knew.
The killer had lured Claire into that classroom.
* * *
It didn’t take long from the time the police arrived for a crowd to form outside the school. Onlookers appeared along with the television news teams.
Claire peeked out the window and saw the three local news channels all setting up in front of the school. She noticed many of the students and the worry on their faces. When she turned on the television in the office, the news channels were reporting a body was found at the high school, but they had not identified it as a student.
What would happen to those kids when they learned one of their own was dead? When they heard it was Luke Thompson who’d been killed? They would be devastated.
You killed Luke with your meddling.
Those words rushed back to her and she shuddered. She’d only wanted to help Luke, not get him killed.
Chills ran up her spine. She might have been lying beside Luke if Matt hadn’t arrived. But what was he doing at the school? She wasn’t surprised to see him in town, since she knew his sister, Alisa, was getting married in two weeks and most of the family was returning for the wedding. But what had he been doing at the school on a Sunday afternoon?
She realized those were the same questions he’d asked of her. Only, she’d told him why she was there. He had yet to explain his presence. She’d been so thankful he was there that she hadn�
��t even thought to question him about why he’d come.
The roar of the crowd outside grew louder as the front door to the school pushed open and she saw Principal Spencer enter. He let the door close behind him as he headed into the office.
“Claire. What are you doing here? The news is saying a body was found on campus?”
“It was one of our students, Luke Thompson.”
“Luke? What do they think happened?”
“Someone killed him. I found his body and someone was there. He tried to grab me.”
Principal Spencer’s face was instantly full of concern for her. “Are you hurt? How did you get away?”
“Someone else rescued me. I don’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t arrived when he did.”
“Has anyone notified Luke’s parents? They’ll be devastated.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go find out. Will you start calling the faculty and let them know what’s happened? We’ll need to coordinate a response, arrange for counselors and such.”
“Certainly.”
She hadn’t thought about calling anyone, not even him. She supposed that was why he was the principal. He had a take-charge attitude and remained calm during a time of crisis.
She found a phone list on the secretary’s desk and began making calls.
* * *
Matt returned to the classroom and stared at the body on the floor. He couldn’t help thinking what a shame it was that someone so young was gone. Yes, he’d seen death before—too many times before—but it still struck him as tragic. This kid was only seventeen at best, much too young to have been caught up in drugs and drug rings. But it was an all too common tale, he’d discovered since coming to work for the DEA. Kids and drugs. Devastated lives. Shattered families. He was tired of the senselessness of it all.
Preston stood over the body, examining it. “It looks like his throat was slit. We’ll have to wait for an autopsy report, but I suspect that will be the cause of death.”
Matt had to concur. He, too, suspected Luke’s throat was cut, but an autopsy would tell them how quickly he died. Was this the work of an experienced killer or an amateur? The answer to that question would provide them leads in finding the person responsible.
Preston stood. “We haven’t located the murder weapon yet, but I’ll have my guys conduct a search.”
“We should start along the path he took when he ran out. It’s possible he tossed the weapon when he ran.”
Preston nodded. “That could include the parking lot and the woods behind the school.” He stared out the window at the crowd already gathered. “And the area has already been contaminated. I’ll have someone clear out this crowd.” Preston got on the radio and issued his instructions for the search.
A uniformed officer poked his head through the door and addressed Preston. “The school principal is here. He’d like to speak with someone.”
Preston nodded. “Tell him I’ll be right out.”
Matt followed Preston into the hallway. A tall, sandy-haired man was waiting for them. He extended his hand. “I’m Bill Spencer, principal of Lakeshore High School. Can you tell me what happened?”
Preston took the lead. “Only that the body of one of your students was discovered in this classroom. We suspect foul play.”
“Claire said it was Luke Thompson. Was anyone else involved? Do you have any idea why this happened?”
“We’re still investigating, Principal Spencer.”
“Of course. Well, you can see half the town is already aware a body has been found. I’d like to be able to tell my students and teachers something about what happened here.”
“We just don’t have enough evidence yet to draw conclusions, much less make them public.”
“Will we be able to open the school for classes tomorrow?”
“We’re still processing the scene. It’s too early to tell.”
“I understand, but it’s imperative we get these kids back into school as soon as possible. It’s an important element to helping them cope. We’ll be calling in mental health counselors to assist the students in their grieving process.”
Matt was surprised when Preston seemed to offer the principal something. Protecting the crime scene should have been the most important thing. “For right now, this entire hall and portions of the parking lot and back forty are off-limits. We may open those to students if we don’t find anything, but this classroom will be inaccessible until we finish our investigation. It’s a crime scene. But I think you’ll be able to reopen for classes by Tuesday.”
Principal Spencer nodded. “We’ll utilize the cafeteria, auditorium and the courtyard for the overflow. I’ll make an announcement about the school reopening Tuesday. And don’t worry, Detective, we will keep this area off-limits. We won’t do anything to compromise this investigation. This tragedy will shake the school to its foundations. Luke was well liked. We’ll be concentrating on helping the students cope with his death. I’ve already got Claire placing calls to the other teachers.”
“The parents are here,” a uniformed officer told them.
“Would you mind if I’m there when you talk to the Thompsons about Luke?” the principal asked. “I think it would help for them to see a familiar face.”
“We’ll have to ask some difficult questions of the family,” Preston told him. “Perhaps it would be better if you were there. This is Agent Ross of the DEA. He’ll be joining us, as well. We’ll need to use your office.”
“Certainly,” Principal Spencer said. “Anything I can do to help.”
Luke’s parents were ushered into the principal’s office. They’d already been informed that their son was dead. Mrs. Thompson sat quietly, shock pressing on her heavily made-up face. Her mascara hadn’t even run and Matt had to wonder if she’d shed a tear yet. Shock had that effect on some people. It would hit her, though, and it would be hard and painful. Mr. Thompson expressed his grief differently—he was vocal.
“I want to know what my son was doing here,” he demanded. “And why was that teacher meeting him here alone? I want answers.”
“We’re working on that, Mr. Thompson.” Preston was the picture of grace and ease, and Matt had to admit he admired the man’s ability to handle this difficult situation. “We all want answers. When was the last time you saw Luke?”
His mother’s hands shook, so she clenched them together, fighting to keep her composure. “Last night. He said he was going out with friends.”
“You didn’t see him when he came home?”
“No, I was already asleep. Luke was a very independent boy. He didn’t take a lot of oversight. If he said he was going to be home by midnight, he was. I didn’t think anything about it. I left the house early this morning for a meeting. I assumed he was still sleeping upstairs.”
“Luke was a good kid,” Mr. Thompson said. “He had a lot of friends.”
“Do you know if Luke was involved in any kind of drug use?”
“What? No. I would know if my son was doing drugs. Luke was too smart to do something that dumb.”
Matt stepped forward and produced his DEA credentials. “My name is Matt Ross. I’m with the DEA. Your son contacted me with information he had about a drug ring operating in Lakeshore. I believe that’s what got him killed.”
“You think Luke was using drugs?” Mr. Thompson asked.
“We believe he was doing more than taking them. We believe he was selling, as well,” Matt said.
Matt watched his reaction and saw the typical parental denial. It seemed genuine, though. It didn’t appear that the Thompsons knew about Luke’s extracurricular activities.
“We gave Luke everything he needed,” Mr. Thompson said. “Why would he be involved with selling drugs? He certainly didn’t need the money. I don’t wan
t you spreading these lies about my son. He wasn’t doing drugs and he certainly wasn’t selling them, regardless of what you say. Someone killed my son. Concentrate on finding that person, not on vilifying my boy.”
It wasn’t the first time Matt had seen parents refuse to admit the truth about their kids. Luke was dead and they would do whatever they could to preserve their memory of him. But Matt had another job—uncovering the truth. And the truth was that Luke had reached out to him, offering information about a drug ring operating out of the school. The kid had known something. If only they’d had the opportunity to talk more in depth.
His mind skimmed over the initial details Luke had given on the phone. He’d identified the drug being sold in his school as Trixie, and he’d hinted someone inside was involved.
Had Luke told Claire who it was? Was she too frightened to tell, after seeing what had happened to Luke? Or was she truly as innocent as she claimed to be?
Someone believed she knew more, or else why lure her to the school? To find out what Luke had told her? Or to make certain she didn’t know more than she should? If he knew the answer to that, he might know whether the attacker had planned to question her or kill her if Matt hadn’t shown up.
How had Claire gotten involved in this mess? The Claire he’d known had been kind and innocent. It didn’t matter that years had passed since he’d last seen her. He couldn’t imagine she’d changed. People simply didn’t change that much. But then when he’d known her, she hadn’t been counseling drug dealers, either. Had her involvement with Luke placed a target on her back?
Matt remained quiet as Preston ended the conference with the Thompsons, assuring them again that the police would do everything in their power to bring Luke’s killer to justice. As they were leaving, Matt slipped out. He walked back to the main office, but Claire wasn’t there. He found her in one of the other classrooms using the sink in the corner to fill a coffeepot with water. She still wore his jacket, which made her look small and petite. Wisps of dark hair fell across her cheek, loosened from their clip during her struggle. They framed her beautiful face and her big blue eyes—eyes he’d spent years gazing lovingly into, and many more years dreaming of.
Reunion Mission (Rangers Under Fire) Page 2