“Look, Jack,” she said, handing him the crumpled note. “It says, ‘Let Them Play.’”
“Looks like we have motive,” he replied. “We can start by calling the police.”
Incredibly, she shook her head. “No. No police. Call Charlie Cavelli at the garage. But don’t talk to his dad. Joe would call my dad right away, and we don’t want that.”
He’d go along with her request for the moment, let her ramble as he reached for his wallet where he’d placed the special ROMEOs’ business card. Printed clearly was the number to Cavelli’s auto-body shop as well as the numbers of every other ROMEO family business or home.
Jack punched in the number and reached Charlie just as the businessman was closing for the day. “Just wait till my brother-in-law hears about this. He’ll want those kids off his team now for sure.”
Jack remembered that Charlie Cavelli and Tom Sullivan had both married Bart’s daughters. So now the families were related.
“Rachel says not to tell your dad about this—it’s the ROMEO thing.”
“Nothing stays a secret around here,” replied Charlie. The phone went dead.
“He’ll be by in five minutes,” said Jack, kissing Rachel’s temple again. He loved having her in his arms. He loved feeling her weight against him. “Maybe six.”
“Good,” she said, snuggling into him again.
“Now, I’m calling the police,” said Jack.
“No!” Rachel sat up so quickly, she knocked the rearview mirror askew with the back of her head. “Give me the phone.”
He held it out of her grasp. “First, tell me why.”
“Because if the police get involved,” she said without hesitation, “the kids could wind up with a juvenile record. I don’t want that to happen.”
“Why not? They deserve it. Look how frightened you were. Look at the damage to your vehicle.”
“I know. I know. But they’re young and angry,” she replied, calmer now—in fact, she was trying to soothe him. “They didn’t understand the effects. They didn’t think in terms of consequences.”
“And I can’t think of a better way to learn! It’s a lesson they’ll never forget.”
But Rachel was still shaking her head. “No. We’ll solve this in-house. Having a record is too high a price to pay for a prank.”
“A prank? Woman! They destroyed your property! Your heart’s too soft underneath your business suit. You were shaking like a leaf when I got here. Hiding in your car. This action is beyond a prank. Rachel…Rachel…” He kissed her on the lips, those luscious lips that had quivered with fear earlier. “If anything worse had happened…” He couldn’t finish the thought, so he tightened his embrace and felt her body lean into him. God, he loved her so much.
He what? He stopped breathing. His thoughts spun like a rowboat twirling in the rapids.
“Tell you what…” said Rachel, her voice trailing off.
He barely heard her.
“Tomorrow, I’ll call Rick O’Brien. He’ll nose around and keep his eyes open. We’ll find out what happened. He’s the only ROMEO who knows how to hold his tongue.”
It took a moment for her words to register. Then he nodded. “That’s great.” What he didn’t say was that they might still have to go to the active police force. One thing was for sure. He wasn’t going to sit still while Rachel might possibly be in danger.
AT THREE-THIRTY THE NEXT afternoon, Rachel felt light enough to dance on the ceiling. She and her cohorts had devised a plan at lunchtime, and the plan had worked better than she could have imagined.
Now she sat at a round conference table in the principal’s office with Dr. Bennett, Tom Sullivan and Bob Franklin.
“Thank you, gentlemen.” She nodded at her boss and the coach. Then she held Franklin’s gaze. “They had a choice, and they made it. As far as I’m concerned, the question of Steve Yelton and Jimmy Williams on this year’s football team has been resolved. They’re off the team until next year. And their participation then will depend on them getting their grades up.”
“That was hardly a choice you gave them,” said the athletic director, his foot tapping the floor. “What kid would agree to have the whole school retested so he could get back on a team? Every student in the school would hate him. So now we’ve got a team with a lousy quarterback.”
“But those are the rules, Bob,” said Dr. Bennett. “And you know that as well as we do. ‘No special privileges—are to be granted to athletes.’”
Rachel reclined against the back of her chair. Her hands rested on the arms.
“You don’t get it, do you, Bob? Don’t you see what happened here? Sure, they had a difficult choice, but maybe you’ve got a former quarterback who grew up today. What you forget is that these boys are high school students who happen to play football. They’re not football players who happen to go to high school!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe you’re more concerned that they have time for an after-school job to pay for your tires.”
She heard a gasp from Tom, but she kept her gaze on Franklin. “Do you actually condone what they did?” she asked quietly. But then she quickly raised her hand in a stop motion. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I’m not pressing charges—they and their parents should be grateful.”
Tom stood up. “I’m very satisfied with this outcome, and very happy that the situation didn’t drag on. Rick O’Brien is still the police chief to a lot of people in town. His involvement made an impression. If we’re done here, I’m on my way.” He turned to his immediate supervisor. “We still have a team, Bob, and they’ll do their best. That’s all any coach can ask for.” He waved and left.
Rachel rose, stepped to Dr. Bennett and shook his hand. “As far as I’m concerned, this situation is resolved.”
Her mentor nodded. “A very satisfactory ending. I’m more than sorry about your car and your experience last night. Go home and have a good weekend.”
“Thanks.” She walked toward the door and heard Dr. Bennett say, “But it’s not over for you, Bob. Or for me.”
She slipped out of the room. Her part was finished, and the relief was exhilarating. Then she spotted David and grinned. If the kid hadn’t burst into her office searching for the boys who’d scared his aunt, she might never have found out who the culprits were.
“How’s my hero?” she asked, opening her arms and giving her nephew a quick hug. “What timing! How’d you find out about what happened last night?”
“Are you kidding? The whole school knows!”
“Not from me,” said a deep voice in response to David’s comment. “Can I be your hero, too?”
She looked up into Jack’s laughing face, and then didn’t want to laugh. A layer of truth shaded his question. She saw the need in his eyes.
He seemed to recall where he was, turned to David and winked. “What’s your secret, mate? Did you vanquish her enemies? Tie them to the mast?”
“No,” Rachel replied for him. “Just came into my office determined to deal with the criminals who’d vandalized his aunt’s vehicle and scared her to death. He came in roaring, threatening to beat their lights out.” She paused for effect as they reached the front door of the school. “Of course, Yelton and Williams were with Dr. Bennett next door, so no actual bloodshed occurred.”
“Just pure luck. Right, David?” said Jack. “One more question that has me wondering. How did the news about the flat tires spread all over the school?”
“Simple,” David replied. “Those idiots told a few of their friends. And that’s all it took.” The boy’s expression reflected such disgust that Rachel and Jack burst out laughing.
“How about dinner tonight at the Lobster Pot for my two best guys? My treat,” said Rachel.
“Great! But can we go early?” asked David. “Not just because I’m starving already, but I’m meeting the guys at eight.”
“Works for me,” said Jack. “I’ve got a date with some books tonight. Some your grandpa pulled for me.”
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br /> “And I’m doing nothing tonight!” said Rachel. “So going early is fine with me! Sometimes doing nothing is the best activity of all.”
RACHEL LEANED OVER HER bedroom mirror and placed a pair of silver hoop earrings in her ears. Her dark eyes shone, and a definite smile reflected back at her. She felt good! She looked pretty good, too.
A loud knocking on the back door interrupted her musing. She strode to the kitchen. “It’s open,” she called.
Jack filled the doorway, his whistle of admiration making her blush. Rachel stood still, but he sauntered toward her, his intention obvious. “So beautiful,” he whispered before he bent his head and tasted her lips.
She ignited like paper to a flame. She felt his touch from her head to her feet.
“Mmm,” she murmured when her mouth was free again. “Nice.”
“We can skip dinner….” His voice trailed off as he studied her. “No. Forget I said that.”
For a second, her feelings were hurt. Did he not want to explore their relationship? Take it to the next step? But when she studied his expression, she understood. Playtime was over. No flirting. No teasing.
He was waiting for her signal.
She looked away. “My nephew called,” she said, switching the subject. “A slight change in plans. My brother’s whole family is joining us.”
“Your plastic will be getting a real workout,” he replied lightly, as though their prior conversation had never happened.
She shook her head and reached for her purse. “That’s the funny thing. Alex is picking up the tab.”
“Seems like a peace offering to me.”
Fifteen minutes later, Rachel hugged her niece and greeted her brother and sister-in-law in the entrance of the Lobster Pot.
“We need a table for eight,” said Alex to the hostess.
“No problem.” The woman made a mark on her chart. “Follow me.”
Alex turned to Rachel as they walked. “The folks are coming, too.”
“Figures.” Rachel chuckled and looked up at Jack. “They always want to be in on the action. Which reminds me…”
But the hostess seated them at a large round table just then, and Rachel had to wait a moment. Now she glanced at David, who sat on one side of her. “Do they know about…”
“Sure do,” replied Alex before David could answer. He glanced at both David and Jack. “I’m glad neither of you wound up using your fists.”
“I woulda,” said David. “In a second. They went too far. Aunt Rachel’s working hard at the school. Not that I really understand what she’s doing. But if she hired Jack, then she did a great thing.”
“Well, thanks, David,” said Jack. “It’s good to hear.”
“I can’t take credit or blame,” said Rachel, wondering if she’d have to repeat that fact forever. “I inherited him.”
Her nephew patted her arm and grinned. “Then you should keep him. He’s great. Give him a raise!” The boy pointed down the aisle. “Here’s Grandma and Gramps. I bet they think the same thing.”
Alex and Susan were both beaming at Jack, whose face was getting ruddy.
“Oh, my,” said Pearl, taking her seat. “What are we all talking about?”
“Doesn’t matter,” said Jack. “David is going to change the topic right now. Isn’t he?” His expressive eyes reinforced the message.
“Okay,” said David, looking around the table as though a topic was floating in the air. But he was smiling.
It occurred to Rachel that for once, her nephew was enjoying the attention from the family rather than hating it. She was curious to hear what he’d say.
“Let’s talk about the Earth.”
Next to her, Rachel heard Jack moan under his breath, saw his eyes close. She paid closer attention to David.
“See this lemon?” the boy said, reaching toward a bowl of citrus fruit in the center of the table. “That’s the core. In the real planet Earth, the core has two parts. The inner part is very hot and heavy, probably composed of solid iron and nickel. The outer core is molten metal.” He turned to his younger sister. “That means melted.”
“I know what molten means. Birds moult when they lose their feathers.”
“That’s not the same thing at all! Birds don’t melt.” He reached for an orange and cut it in half, then scooped out the fruit. A messy process. He covered the lemon with the orange shell. “That’s the middle layer, the mantle. Volcanoes start out near the upper part of the mantle. They spew their magma through fissures left by earthquakes. The magma is called lava when it hits the surface.”
Rachel watched, listened and was fascinated as David took a grapefruit, representing the earth’s crust, cut it in half, carefully nudged the fruit away from the skin, and covered the lemon and orange shells with the grapefruit rind.
“This is just a kitchen model,” said David, pointing at his creation. “It’s like a starter kit.” He went on to discuss how the shock waves of earthquakes can be simulated in a laboratory with a model. “They don’t use fruit rinds,” he said with a grin. “They use aluminum and other materials. But the Earth is a pretty cool subject.”
Rachel studied her family. Her brother looked shocked, actually had tears in his eyes; Susan’s mouth was agape. Jennifer appeared confused. Rachel’s parents were beaming. Jack’s face revealed nothing, but his eyes scanned the table faster than hers did, then scanned the room. He looked like a man trying to make an escape.
“Jack!” Alex’s voice called from across the table. Next to her, Jack shifted in his seat as he looked at the man. “Thank you.”
Jack dismissed the gratitude with a wave of his hand. “It’s my job.”
“Dad,” said David. “Jack’s is the best class I ever had. And we never get any tests!”
“Thanks, Dave,” said Jack with a crooked smile. “Looks like your aunt is ready to faint.”
She didn’t faint, but the chowder stuck in her throat when she heard David’s words. If Jack didn’t give the kids class tests, they’d never pass the larger department tests, and certainly not the statewide tests at the end of the year.
She glanced up at him, but his focus was on David again. He was smiling and teasing the boy. David sat taller, eyes sparkling, and Rachel hesitated to spoil the mood. But, as if he could sense her attention, Jack leaned toward her, then said under his breath, “Okay, Rachel. I’ll throw in some tests. If you think the kids need it, I’ll do it.”
Relief filled her. She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LATER THAT EVENING, Rachel wandered through the Captain’s Quarters, too restless to read or watch television. Jack had gone upstairs to work on his book. He was quite mysterious about it. Even after all these weeks, she didn’t know any details. She pushed it out of her mind. If he didn’t want to talk about what he was writing, so be it. She had more than enough on her mind.
She looked out the kitchen window and considered a walk on the beach, but the sky was clouded and moonlight was scarce. Not that she was afraid. After strolling on a moonlit beach with Jack, however, the solid darkness was just not inviting. Then she thought of the widow’s walk on the roof. She felt herself grin. It was the perfect time to explore!
She unlocked her front door and used her key to open the entrance next to hers. She found the light switch easily enough, and saw she was in a narrow hall with an open staircase. She began to climb. On the second floor, she realized that Jack’s apartment, while also on this level, was not accessible from the hallway. Twenty-five years ago, before remodeling, this level of the house had contained bedrooms and a bath. Now it was simply a way station to the third floor. She took the last flight two steps at a time.
A shuttered window almost covered the entire back wall—the side of the house facing the ocean. After manipulating the hooks, she opened the shutters to reveal huge picture windows. Had the sun been shining, she knew she’d enjoy the pleasure of a spectacular seascape—the same vista as she�
�d get from the roof. Now, however, the dark night blended the sky and ocean, making the horizon invisible.
Sitting on a two-foot-high platform in front of the window was a strange-looking light fixture. It looked like a beehive chandelier with tiers of glass prisms. A curved mirror lined the back of the apparatus.
Interesting, but she was clueless. Her real goal was the short flight to the roof. Just as she approached it, she heard a knocking at the wall. “Rachel? Is that you?” Jack’s muffled voice floated to her.
“Yes,” she called. “I’m exploring. Come up through the front.”
He joined her a minute later. “What are you do— Oh, wow! Just look at this!” He fixated on the beehive, and his eyes glowed. He walked around it, examining it from every angle. Rachel was content to watch him discover whatever it was that made him so excited.
“This may be an original Fresnel,” he said, circling once again. “The Smithsonian’s got one, and so does the National Museum, but there were plenty of others along America’s coastline.” He looked at Rachel as though she had the answer. “Do you think it is too small to be an original?”
Rachel leaned against the wall, forcing herself not to laugh out loud. “I have no clue what it is or what you’re talking about. But it’s good to see you so happy.”
Then he kissed her. Quick and hard. “This, my dear, is a Fresnel lens. Or a copy of one. This baby is what prevented shipwrecks all along the American coastline, at least after Congress decided to cough up the money to install them in our lighthouses.”
Rachel studied the lens. “But where’s the light source? You can’t light a fire indoors to reflect in the prisms.”
“Not fires, Rach. A lamp inside the lens. Or a floodlight.” He searched the walls. “Aha! Look.” He pointed to a large switch. He moved toward it and flipped it. “Bingo!” he exclaimed, just before the light inside the lens dimmed away to nothing.
His disappointed expression was so comical, Rachel couldn’t contain her chuckles this time. “You look like a kid with no birthday presents.”
“Oh?” His eyes darkened as he stepped toward her. “I’m not worried about birthday presents,” he whispered as he cradled her. “I’ve got a perfect package right here.”
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