Florida Heat

by Rainy Kirkland

  “I take it you don’t care for Ms. Johnson.”

  Diana shook her head. “No, not really. Betsy is a good teacher in her own way. We just have very different styles. But if she thinks she can cancel my event because she doesn’t like to be out in the heat she has another thought coming.”

  “And what will you do?” Intrigued, Kate leaned forward.

  “Parents,” Diana said with a sly smile. “I’m going to make a few phone calls and then we’ll see who’s got the weight around here.”

  “Fascinating,” Kate shook her head. “Now, if I could ask you some questions about Christian?”

  “Sure, it’s really a shame about his father. What do you want to know?”

  “What can you tell me about him?”

  Diana thought for a moment. “He’s a loner. Always stays on the fringes of the group if given a choice. Has a temper, but that’s usually directed at himself. He’s not very athletic and he’s critical of his own skills.”

  “Does he have any problems with any of the other children?”

  Diana shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. I know that Bruce sometimes picks on him, but Bruce picks on everybody.”

  “And how does Christian react when Bruce picks on him?”

  “I think he just tries to get away.” Her eyes went wide. “Do you think that’s what happened? Did Bruce do something to make Christian run away?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  Phyllis Perry joined Kate next. “I taught Christian in kindergarten,” she offered. “He was a cute little kid but never prepared. I met his mom, and if memory serves me, Mrs.Witmore always seemed a little scattered. I never met his father but I was sorry to hear of his passing. Have they scheduled the funeral yet? We haven’t heard anything.”

  “I believe it was originally for today but Mrs. Witmore postponed it due to the circumstances.”

  Phyllis sighed in sympathy. “That poor little kid. Does anyone have any idea why he took off?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. Can you tell me anything about Christian’s problem with a boy named Bruce?”

  “Our resident bully?” Phyllis shook her head. “He transferred here in the middle of last year. I think he had some type of problem at his other school but that’s just rumor. You’d need to speak with Mr. Phelps to get the true story.” She glanced at the clock and rose. “I’ve got to get going. I sure hope nothing has happened to the little guy.”

  “Me, too,” Kate added, “thanks for your time.”

  After learning none of the other teachers in the room had Christian in their classes, Kate made her way back to the office to request that Bruce be summoned.

  Bruce entered the office, and flopped in a chair as he gave Kate the once over. “So what’s up? I didn’t do nothing.”

  “Now, Bruce,” Principal Phelps cautioned.

  “That’s okay,” Kate interrupted. “No one said you did. I’m Detective Snow and.…”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re a cop and you’re looking for the little creep that’s gone missing. So what’s that got to do with me?”

  She kept her smile even. “Why don’t you tell me, Bruce? What’s your relationship with Christian Witmore?”

  “Relationship?” He choked back a laugh. “That’s a joke. I don’t have a relationship with little runts like him.”

  “Ah ha, and what grade are you in?” she flipped open her notebook.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  Kate smiled sweetly. “Just answer the question please.”

  “I’m in sixth. What’s it to you?”

  “Bruce,” the principal warned. “Watch your manners.”

  “And how old are you?”

  Now he stiffened. “I’m thirteen.”

  “Um hum, isn’t that a little old for sixth grade.”

  “Look, I didn’t do nothing and I don’t have to sit here and take this shit.”

  He started to stand when Kate pinned him with a hard stare. “Sit down.” Her voice had gone hard and her eyes were now cop flat. Bruce eased himself back down in his chair.

  “I’d like to know why someone your age would be picking on someone nearly five years younger than you.”

  “I never picked on nobody.” He tried for a sneer but his bravado was leaking.

  “Gee, that’s not what I hear.”

  “Now, Detective Snow,” Mr. Phelps interrupted, “we don’t tolerate bullying. We don’t have that kind of problem here.”

  Kate watched Bruce smile and sit a little straighter in his chair. “Yeah, we don’t have that kind of problem here.”

  “I see,” she said, her smile back in place. “And as a student that’s, what, nearly fourteen, you enjoy ‘playing’ with the third graders?”

  Bruce looked at her like she had grown another head. “What?” he jerked in protest. “Jeez lady, I don’t play with those little twerps.”

  “It’s Detective Lady to you,” Kate said easily. “Let’s see, in the past few minutes you’ve called the younger students, creeps, runts and twerps. Do you have a problem, Bruce?”

  “I ain’t got no problem,” he said. “I ain’t the one missing.”

  “And what would you know about Christian’s problem that would make him go missing?”

  Bruce shrugged. “You’d have to ask him.”

  “Oh and I will,” she said easily. “Did you know that assault is a crime?”

  Now he sat up straighter again. “I never hit him.”

  “But you don’t have to actually hit someone to have it labeled assault. If you give a verbal threat against someone, that’s considered assault.”

  “Well you’ll have to get him to say that I did it,” he started to smile again. “And since he’s not here, I guess we’re done.”

  Kate surprised him by nodding in agreement. “You’re right,” she beamed a smile at him. “You’ve given me all I need to know.”

  Now Bruce frowned. “I didn’t give you nothing.”

  Kate leaned over and patted his arm. “You just keep thinking that. Now, Mr. Phelps, if you could have Bruce sent back to class I think we’re done here.”

  “But I didn’t give you anything,” Bruce stammered. “What’s she talking about?”

  “You can go now, Bruce,” the principal looked equally confused. “Get back to class and don’t dawdle on the way.”

  Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, Bruce left the office.

  “Now, Detective Snow, I’d like to know what’s going on here.”

  Kate closed her notebook. “What’s going on here is a problem that you need to address. That ‘child,’ and I use the word loosely, is terrorizing your younger students.”

  “Then why haven’t I heard of this?” he snapped.

  “Maybe you need to listen better,” she said, rising to go. “Oh, and you can tell any of the teachers that want to help, a table is being set up at the community center with flyers that need to be handed out.”

  * * *

  Sitting in history class, Julie struggled to pay attention but her eyes kept wandering to the clock. Fifteen more minutes, she thought with a sigh. Her hand still clutched her phone in her lap. Marques had texted her during class and her heart had yet to stop fluttering. Meet me at the flagpole, it had said. Was he waiting until the last minute to ask her out? Heck, it was already Friday afternoon, but if he was thinking of them as a couple, maybe he didn’t feel he needed to give her more notice. He’d just assume she’d know they were going out. That certainly was her dream. She sighed and looked back at the clock. Fourteen minutes to go. Maybe he’d want to take her for coffee again. Or maybe, she thought, sitting up a little straighter, he’d ask her out for dinner since there wasn’t a home game tonight. But if that was the case how was she going to get around Mom? Mom wasn’t happy that Marques was a musician. Maybe she’d just call and leave a message. “Staying after school for project, be home a little later.” Yeah, that could work. If she
got out of class as soon as the bell rang she could stop in the girls’ room and touch up her lipstick. Julie glanced around. Mr. Fairbanks was droning on about some war and most of the class was nodding off. Usually she found his stories funny or at least interesting but today she wished he’d just stop talking and assign something so she could stop pretending she was paying attention. Thirteen minutes to go. Wait, she thought. If I put my lipstick on now, then I wouldn’t have to stop at the girls’ room. Carefully she reached into her purse and found her lipstick and the tiny mirror she carried. Palming the mirror she put her head down and tried to reapply the Tangerine Dream that was now her favorite color.

  “This isn’t beauty class, Miss Finch,” Mr. Fairbanks said calmly.

  Julie felt her face go rosy with heat. “Sorry,” she mumbled as the class laughed. She slipped the lipstick and mirror back in her purse and struggled to act like she wasn’t embarrassed. Twelve more minutes, she thought.

  When the bell finally rang, Julie was out of her seat so quickly she nearly knocked over the chair.

  “Miss Finch, I’d like to speak with you.”

  Not today, she groaned silently. “Yes, sir.”

  “You seem a bit distracted today, is everything okay?”

  “Um, sure.”

  “You’re not having any problem with your project or your research?”

  My only problem is you, she thought, trying not to show her impatience. “No, sir. I never knew bird smuggling was such a thriving business in Florida.”

  “Would you like to go over your outline then?”

  “Ah, I’d really appreciate that, Mr. Fairbanks, but I can’t.” When he just continued to look at her, Julie stammered on. “I, ah, I have another appointment right now.”

  “I see, then you’d better get going. But let me know if you need any help organizing your outline.”

  “Sure, thanks.” Julie turned and all but ran from the classroom. Darn, why today? What if Marques had gotten tired of waiting for her? What if he was already gone? Her stomach started to jitter with the thought. When she reached the door of the building she made herself stop and take a breath. Don’t look anxious, she thought. She took another deep breath then pushed open the door and stepped out.

  Marques was at the flagpole as promised, but so were about two dozen other kids. What the heck was going on? Julie forced herself to casually walk over to the group.

  “Hey, you made it,” he said with a smile. “Look, we’re going over to the Community Center to help with the search. I thought you might want to come, too.”

  “Help with what?” Her brain couldn’t take in what was happening. He wasn’t asking her out?

  “That little kid is still missing,” Marques said. “The Community Center needs volunteers to help put up flyers with his picture. So are you in?”

  “Ah, sure, I can do that,” Julie struggled to keep the disappointment from her voice.

  “Great, do you need a ride?”

  “Yeah, I .…”

  “No problem, Zeke has room in his car.” Marques turned back to the group. “We’ll all meet up at the Community Center.”

  Julie felt her heart sink as she watched him turn to go. His brother, Nigel, and two guys that she knew were in the Jazz Band followed him. At least he wasn’t taking a girl, she thought miserably.

  “Hey, Finch,” Zeke called. “You coming or what?”

  Julie gave herself a shake. “Yeah, I’m coming.” She climbed into the backseat of Zeke’s car and tried not to look for Marques’ blue Honda.

  Julie was surprised by the number of people that crowded in front of the Community Center. It seemed everyone wanted to help find the missing boy. She made her way up to the front where Marques was now talking with Willow.

  “These are great,” he said holding two of her posters. “You outdid yourself, girl.”

  Willow beamed. “Thanks, but they weren’t hard to do.”

  Nigel took the posters from his brother. “Wow, these are eye catching. Someone is going to actually stop and look at the kid’s picture because of this.”

  Julie edged closer to see. “Did you make those?” She looked at Willow in surprise. “I didn’t know you were such an artist. Nigel is right, these are great.”

  “You think these are good,” Zeke interrupted. “You should see the 3D project she’s got going in the art room. This is nothing compared to that.”

  “Wow and wow again,” Julie said. “These are amazing.”

  “Hi, guys,” Sherry Reid walked over. “Willow those are really great.”

  Willow gave a half smile and turned to Zeke then rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, let’s get going,” Marques turned back to Willow. “Thanks again these are really great. You want to head a team?”

  “Sure.” Willow picked up a handful of flyers. “I’ll take Julie and Zeke and we’ll go north.”

  “I’ll go with them,” Sherry piped in, ignoring Willow’s startled look.

  Marques nodded. “Great, be sure to tell the lady with the map which streets you cover so she can mark it in. Nigel, you grab some friends and go that way, and I’ll take the guys and head in the opposite direction.”

  Julie felt her good mood slowly drain away as Marques walked over to his friends. Thoughts of coffee and dinner now a distant memory, she struggled to keep her smile in place. Okay, so she wasn’t going out on a date, she thought miserably. He still had wanted her to help out, and that meant he was still thinking of her. And maybe he was just as frustrated as she was that things had turned out this way. Trying to convince herself that was the case, Julie took the fliers and stapler Zeke handed her and left to follow Willow.

  “So are you going out tonight?” Sherry asked walking beside Julie.

  “Um, I don’t think so. I’ve got a big history report to work on.”

  “Jeez, it’s Friday night. Who works on a history report on Friday night?”

  “Someone with good grades,” Willow said then turned her back again.

  Sherry ignored the snub. “I’ve got a date with Ricky,” she sighed.

  “Is that the guy whose picture you showed me?” Julie asked.

  “Mmm-hmm, he’s so cute,” she hugged herself as they walked.

  “Where is he taking you?”

  Now Sherry gave a sly smile. “Someplace special. He won’t tell me exactly where, but he told me to dress fancy for tonight. I can’t wait,” she nearly squealed.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Julie stopped walking. “What happened in the office? You were going to tell us what Principal Bradshaw was going to do after he saw that ad in the paper for his job. I mean did he get fired or what?”

  “It was just a prank,” Sherry said dreamily. “Seems somebody broke into the Guidance Counselor’s office and used her computer. He’s got some geeky computer expert working on it. I overheard him tell Mrs. Dunn they should know who did it by early next week.”

  Julie felt her stomach lurch. She looked over at Zeke and saw he was listening to Sherry, too. At her panicked stare, he just smiled and winked. What did that mean? He had told her the code he gave her would look like it came from the guidance office, but could some expert track it back to her? Had Zeke known that when he gave it to her? And suddenly she wondered if everything was just one big prank with her as the patsy.

  “Why are you letting Sherry come with us?” Zeke asked Willow in a whisper loud enough to be heard.

  Willow turned back and gave Julie and Sherry a dismissive glance. “She can go to the door when there’s a dog in the yard.”

  Zeke laughed hysterically. Sherry pretended not to hear and Julie felt the last of her good mood vanish completely.

  Chapter Nine

  Jo pulled up in front of Aggie’s house and climbed out of her car. It had been a hectic day but it wasn’t over yet. Knocking on the door she glanced around. Despite the heat and lack of rain, the weeds were thriving. A broken toy wagon sat rusting near a boy’s bike with a flat tire. Everything looks so sad
, Jo thought, turning as Aggie answered the door.

  “Did you find him yet?” Aggie’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen.

  “Not yet, but everyone is still out looking for him. I thought I’d stop over to see how you’re doing.”

  “I’m not doing anything wrong,” Aggie folded her arms across her chest.

  “No, this isn’t a checkup visit,” Jo said easily. “I care about you and wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “I guess you can come in then,” Aggie turned.

  Jo pushed open the screen door and had to choke back a gasp. The room was in complete chaos. “Did the police do this?” she asked hesitantly.

  Aggie had perched on the edge of an overstuffed chair with a torn cushion. “Do what?”

  Jo looked around. Clothing was scattered on the floor, dirty dishes covered the table, and several fast food bags were piled on the coffee table.

  “Ah, would you like me to help you clean up some?”

  Aggie looked around. “No, that’s okay. Are you sure they haven’t found anything yet?”

  Jo shook her head, and stepping around the weight bench, sat on the sofa. When she sank down nearly to the floor she tried to scoot herself back up to the edge.

  “Aggie, do you have any idea where Christian might have gone? Does he have a favorite place to play or hide?”

  “Why would he need to hide?” Aggie looked startled. “Is he in trouble? Is that really why you’re here? Is that why he won’t come home?”

  “I’m asking you,” Jo said quietly. “Did anything happen to make Christian think he was in trouble?”

  “I don’t know,” Aggie started to cry again. “He didn’t want to go to school and I made him. But I wrote him a note saying it wasn’t his fault he didn’t have his homework. Do you think that’s what made him run away?”

  “I don’t know.” Jo thought of the unyielding Ms. Johnson. “But if he did want to run away, where do you think he’d go? Are there any relatives he might try to get to? Or any favorite places that you’d taken him in the past?”

  Aggie shook her head and shredded the tissue she held. Little pieces fell to the floor but she seemed not to notice. “We don’t have any family and Danny wasn’t much for going to fancy places.”

  “Well, if you put yourself in Christian’s place, what would you do?”