Chain Reaction

by Diane Fanning

  Connelly laughed. ‘You gotta be kidding me, Lovett. Have you looked at your cell recently? You won’t see a single bar. You’re in a dead spot. Throw down your weapon and put your hands on your head. Then ease your way out here. No sudden moves.’

  ‘Hey, Connelly, how are you going to explain to your brother about his front door?’

  After a moment of silence, Connelly said, ‘Well, if I’m the only one who makes it out of here alive, I can tell it anyway I want it, can’t I?’

  ‘Connelly, I’d say this is not exactly in keeping with your oath of office.’

  ‘You know what I have to say to that, Lovett?’

  ‘No, sir, can’t say that I do.’

  Connelly fired a shot into the windshield of his own vehicle, sending every dove for yards skyward in a loud flurry of agitated wings.

  THIRTY-TWO

  Brittany Schaffer sashayed into the classroom like the second coming of Marilyn Monroe. One look at the dress she was wearing and Lucinda understood the principal’s concern. Dark red fabric swirled with black molded around her body like shrink wrap. The dipping neckline showed more cleavage than most women had.

  The teacher’s blond hair was fine, wavy and lightly tousled. Her big cornflower-blue eyes and soft smile softened her sensuality with a glaze of innocence. Her childlike speaking voice added to that impression. ‘I understand you wanted to see me.’

  ‘Please have a seat,’ Lucinda said.

  Brittany seemed to melt into the chair. She folded her hands primly on top of the table while crossing her legs to reveal a long stretch of thigh.

  ‘I understand you own a red pick-up, Ms Schaffer.’

  ‘Have you seen it? It’s wicked cool.’

  ‘Yes, I have. It seemed like a lot of truck for an English teacher.’

  Brittany tittered. ‘Daddy was in construction. I worked for him in the summer all through high school and college. Wouldn’t have been much use to him if I couldn’t manage a beast of a pick-up. Kind of got to like it – and so …’

  ‘Where were you on Sunday morning?’

  ‘At home. I slept wicked late. I’d been out late Saturday night and didn’t think I’d ever recover.’

  ‘Are you saying you were hung over, Ms Schaffer?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘Oh, c’mon now, that’s not a polite question to ask a lady,’ Brittany said with a giggle.

  ‘Did you drive your truck Saturday night?’

  ‘Oh no, officer! I would never, ever drink and drive. In fact, I was out with a new dude and he got so smashed that we had to call a cab to get home. You can verify that,’ she said, nodding her head up and down. ‘The cab company would have a record of it, wouldn’t they?’

  ‘So where was your truck Saturday night?’

  ‘In the driveway, of course.’

  ‘And where was it Sunday morning?’

  ‘Still there, officer. You’re not going to trip me up. I was drinking and I did not drive that night or the next morning. I did not break the law.’

  ‘I’m going to need the name and contact information for the man you were with Saturday night.’

  Brittany’s jaw dropped open. ‘You’re kidding me. This is so embarrassing. It was our first date. If the police start asking questions, he’ll never ask me out again.’

  ‘And why not, Ms Schaffer? Is he an ex-convict? A drug dealer? What?’

  ‘Oh, for pity’s sake, officer. He is a fine, law-abiding man. But heavens, if you dated someone just once and the police came knocking on your door, what would you think?’

  ‘I guess it would depend on why,’ Lucinda said.

  ‘Oh, please! The reason doesn’t matter. You know that would be a problem. Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. You know what I mean?’

  ‘I guess that makes me the smoke.’

  ‘Well, yes, you could look at it that way. You do understand, don’t you?’ Brittany said with a grin.

  ‘So, tell me, ma’am. What’s the fire?’

  Brittany’s brow furrowed. ‘What?’

  ‘What are you trying to hide, Ms Schaffer?’

  ‘Really, officer, really? There is no fire. There is no smoke, either, except for you and that has nothing to do with me.’

  ‘So where was your truck again?’

  ‘In my driveway.’

  ‘You didn’t loan it to anyone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? You weren’t using it.’

  ‘That’s not a good reason to let someone else use my truck.’

  ‘No,’ Lucinda said, ‘but it would be a time that wouldn’t inconvenience you. After all, it was Saturday night. Maybe one of your students needed some wheels for a hot date. I know the administration might not look on that too kindly, but there’s no need to tell them – just between the two of us.’

  ‘If someone told you I loaned them my truck, they are lying,’ she said, rising to her feet.

  ‘Before you leave, the contact information for your date Saturday night, please.’

  Brittany tossed her curls, blew out an exhalation of exasperation and pulled out her cell phone. She scrolled through her contacts, hit a name and turned the screen toward Lucinda. ‘There.’

  Lucinda wrote down the name ‘Tom’ and his phone number and email address. ‘Tom’s last name, please.’

  Brittany gritted her teeth and growled, ‘McCallister. Am I excused now?’

  ‘Yes, Ms Schaffer. But one thing: don’t leave town without clearing it with me first.’

  ‘I’m going to the coast this weekend,’ she said, her hands on her hips.

  ‘Check with me on Friday and we’ll see how things go.’ Lucinda held out her business card. ‘And, if you’ll notice, I’m Lieutenant Pierce, not officer. You might have a difficult time reaching me if you forget.’

  Brittany snatched the card from Lucinda’s fingers. ‘Thank you, officer,’ she said in an edgy voice. She spun around and flounced out of the room and into the hall.

  Lucinda sensed that Brittany was lying about something or hiding a secret. Was it relevant to the case? Probably not but she had to follow that suspicion until she ran it to ground.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Charley and Amber holed up in Charley’s room listening to music and talking about all the boys – and some of the girls – in their classes. The ring of Amber’s cell phone interrupted their banter.

  Amber answered the phone and stepped over to the side of the room with her back to Charley. Charley tried not to listen to Amber’s end of the conversation, inadvertently picking up only a word here and there, but it was obvious that the longer it lasted, the more agitation was present in Amber’s voice.

  Amber disconnected, spun around, grabbed her backpack and said, ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Wait, Amber. Why?’ Charley asked. ‘Was that your mother?’

  ‘No. It was my brother, Andy, and he needs me.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Amber said nothing for a moment and then began, ‘I hate talking about this but you know even worse about my family, so here goes. My mom is passed out drunk – again. And the boyfriend is there and he’s pretty drunk, too. He got mad at Andy for something – I couldn’t understand why ’cause Andy was crying too much. The boyfriend was drinking out of a glass and he threw it at Andy. Andy ducked and the glass shattered on the brick fireplace.’

  ‘You have to go home because of a broken glass?’

  Amber sighed. ‘Yeah, sort of. But no, not really.’

  ‘Did the boyfriend hurt Andy?’

  ‘Not yet. That’s the problem. The boyfriend left and told Andy to clean up the glass and said if he found the tiniest speck anywhere he’d make Andy sorry he was ever born. And, Charley, I know he can do that. I gotta go help him clean it up before Eddie gets home.’

  ‘I’m going with you,’ Charley said, pulling on a hoodie and dropping her iPhone in her pocket.

  ‘You’ll just make him mad,’ Amber objected.

  ‘He won’t do anything
with a stranger there.’

  ‘You don’t know him very well.’

  ‘He doesn’t scare me.’

  ‘He should,’ Amber insisted.

  ‘I’ve seen worse,’ Charley said. ‘C’mon, Andy needs us. And my iPhone has a cool app that’s the brightest flashlight you’ve ever seen. We’ll be able to find even the teensiest pieces of glass.’

  ‘I don’t want him to hurt you, too, Charley,’ Amber said.

  ‘Let him try,’ Charley said, bristling with a bravado designed to hide the fear that he might put her to the test. She knew herself well enough to know she’d never give in to anyone without a fight, but she also knew that, despite that, men were bigger and stronger – and no matter how dumb they were, she couldn’t always outsmart them.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  As Lucinda turned out of the parking lot, she got a call from Sergeant Robin Colter. ‘Lieutenant, in every spare moment, I’ve been following up on the phone numbers on David’s bill—’

  ‘You know we’re off the case, right?’ Lucinda said. She couldn’t help but be pleased that Robin was pushing forward with the investigation but, although she didn’t mind putting her own career at risk, she didn’t want to encourage anyone else to do the same.

  ‘That isn’t stopping you, is it, Lieutenant?’ When Lucinda didn’t respond, Robin added, ‘Agent Lovett passed a copy of the document to me. He suggested that I might want to follow up on my personal curiosity since he was too preoccupied with Connelly to accomplish anything worthwhile.’

  ‘Oh, did he?’ Lucinda said, wondering why Jake had not mentioned that to her.

  ‘He told me to call you if I found anything significant.’

  ‘And did you?’

  ‘I think so. I think I’ve identified the girl who wrote the note to David Baynes,’ Robin said.

  ‘He told you about the note?’ What else is Jake doing behind my back?

  ‘I just happened to run into him when I stopped for coffee. He seemed very distracted. I thought he would have said something to you.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Lucinda said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Yes. He said you’d be OK with that.’

  No sense in dragging Robin into a conflict between her and Jake, Lucinda thought. ‘Fine, fine, Colter, so who is she?’

  ‘I think “E” is Ellie Fitzpatrick.’

  ‘Funny, David’s parents mentioned the names of a few of their son’s friends as possibilities but never mentioned her.’

  ‘Probably because he was the friend of Ellie’s big brother, Paul, who went off to college last fall. According to Mrs Fitzpatrick, David promised Paul he’d look after Ellie and make sure no one messed with her at the high school.’

  ‘Sounds promising,’ Lucinda said, ‘When can you talk to her?’

  ‘Her mother said that she should be home any minute. I was hoping you could interview her.’

  ‘Really? Do you foresee a problem with the girl that you can’t handle?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘Not with the girl, but the mother. See, she went on this rant about the principal, complaining about her inability to protect the children in her care. I can understand that frustration, and maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but it seemed as if there was an undertone of racial sentiment in her criticism of Principal Johnson. Maybe I’m imagining it and maybe when she takes a look at me, it won’t matter, but I’m worried it may impact her willingness to cooperate and—’

  ‘Say no more, Colter. Give me the address and I’ll meet you there.’ Lucinda muttered as she spun her car around and pointed it in the direction of the Fitzpatrick home. The childhood promise that, one day, people would not be judged by the color of their skin seemed to get further out of reach every year. It eroded her faith in her fellow man even more than any criminal act did. There will always be bad guys but why did otherwise decent people have to have such bad attitudes?

  When Mrs Fitzpatrick answered the knock on the door, she immediately turned to Lucinda, extended her hand and said, ‘I’m Tara Fitzpatrick. You must be Sergeant Colter.’

  ‘No,’ Lucinda said, shaking her hand, ‘I’m Lieutenant Pierce. And this is Sergeant Colter.’

  ‘Oh,’ Mrs Fitzpatrick said, without offering a palm to Robin, ‘do come in.’

  Lucinda looked over at Robin and nodded – the sergeant sure nailed that one.

  Mrs Fitzpatrick called up the staircase, ‘Ellie, they’re here.’

  As a young, frail, pale girl walked down the stairway, it was obvious why her brother felt she needed protection. Long straight hair hung in her face like a shield from the outside world. Every step she took seemed tentative, as if any loud noise would make her run for cover. She looked more like a fifth grader than a freshman in high school. Her eyes stayed focused on the floor as she muttered, ‘Hello.’

  ‘Sit down, Ellie, and speak up,’ her mother said. ‘They won’t bite; they just want to ask you a few questions. Lieutenant?’

  ‘Hello, Ellie. I’m Lieutenant Pierce. Sergeant Colter wants to ask you a few questions about your friend, David Baynes. Sergeant?’

  ‘He’s dead,’ Ellie said with a sigh.

  ‘Yes,’ Robin said, ‘we’re sorry that you lost your friend. We want to know, did you write David a note before he died?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said without looking up from the floor. ‘About a week before.’

  ‘What did you write?’

  ‘I asked him to make Kev stop.’

  ‘Stop what, Ellie?’

  ‘Sticking stuff in my locker.’

  ‘What kind of stuff?’

  ‘Dead bugs – mostly cockroaches,’ she said through curling lips.

  ‘Just bugs? How did you know he was the one who did that?’

  ‘He stuck them in envelopes with notes. He said he’d set a bomb in there to stink me out.’

  Robin and Lucinda exchanged a look of alarm. ‘A bomb, Ellie?’ Lucinda asked. ‘Are you sure about that? Did you keep any of his notes?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure but I didn’t keep the notes,’ she said.

  ‘Where is your locker, Ellie?’

  ‘By the office – well, it was – it was blown to pieces in the explosion.’

  ‘What’s Kev’s last name?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘And where can we find him?’ Robin added.

  Ellie lifted her head for the first time and looked at the two women, one at a time. ‘If you’re thinking Kev blew up the school, you’re wrong. He wasn’t talking about that kind of bomb; he was talking about a stink bomb. He’s just a pest, an annoying geek. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that.’

  ‘His full name and address, Ellie,’ Lucinda ordered.

  ‘Kevin, Kevin Blackwood, but his address won’t do you any good; he’s still in the hospital.’

  ‘Still? How long has he been there?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘Two weeks.’

  ‘That’s a long time. What’s wrong with him?’

  ‘He’s stupid,’ Ellie said.

  ‘Ellie!’ Mrs Fitzpatrick scolded. ‘That is not an acceptable word.’

  ‘Well, he is, Mom. He jumped off Creekview Bridge on a dare and broke every bone in his feet and his legs, too. That’s stupid.’

  ‘We’ll need to verify that,’ Robin said.

  ‘His house is just two doors down,’ Mrs Fitzpatrick said, pointing east.

  ‘I’ll be right back,’ Robin said.

  ‘Ellie,’ Lucinda said, drawing the girl’s attention back. ‘Did you know any of David’s friends?’

  ‘My brother,’ Ellie said. ‘But David wasn’t really my friend; we didn’t hang out or anything. He’d just help me if I had a problem.’

  ‘Do you know anyone who had a grudge against David?’

  Ellie shrugged. ‘No.’

  ‘What about Fred Garcia?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The groundskeeper who died.’

  ‘Oh, Mr Fred, yeah. He was really nice.’

  ‘Do you know any kids who were angry at
him?’

  ‘Mad at Mr Fred? No. Everybody liked Mr Fred.’

  ‘Do you know any kids who were angry about school?’

  Ellie laughed with a bitter edge. ‘Lots of them. But I don’t know anybody who knows how to build a bomb – I didn’t think David did. Nobody tells me nothing.’

  ‘No one tells you anything, Ellie,’ Mrs Fitzpatrick said, correcting her daughter. ‘But I sincerely doubt that statement is true.’

  Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘I got homework. Is that all?’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Ellie,’ Lucinda said, handing her a card. ‘Call me if you think of anything else.’

  Ellie shrugged and walked upstairs.

  ‘Thank you for coming, Lieutenant,’ Mrs Fitzpatrick said. ‘I doubt that sergeant could have handled the interview so well.’

  ‘I did not come here because I had any concerns about how Sergeant Colter would handle the interview with your daughter, Mrs Fitzpatrick. I am here because we could not trust you.’

  ‘Excuse me!’

  ‘Sergeant Colter’s very professional, very competent and very bright. I know it is difficult for you to look at the color of her skin and believe that, but it’s true.’

  ‘I never—’

  ‘Spare me,’ Lucinda said and walked out the door. Returning to the car, she was joined by Robin a few minutes later.

  Leaning against the car, Robin spoke through Lucinda’s open window. ‘Yes, indeed,’ she said. ‘Kevin Blackwood has been in the hospital since a week before the explosion. His grandmother was there and she said he still has more surgeries before he has physical therapy to walk again.’

  ‘Well, that sure was a dead end. Let me know if you find anything else.’

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Returning to the Justice Center, Lucinda worked on a handwritten report about her morning’s hunting expedition. Across the top of it she wrote: ‘For Captain Holland’s Eyes Only.’ In the middle of writing about her interview with Tilly Campbell, she picked up the phone and called Marguerite Spellman. ‘Hey, Spellman, am I remembering correctly that you said the explosion at the high school might have been caused by a fertilizer bomb?’