Pastor's Assignment

by Kim O'Brien

  As Rock walked into sight, Thomas automatically stepped closer to his sister. Rock moved past them without speaking. His entire attention was centered on a tall, painfully thin man with a long neck that jutted forward like the neck of a turtle coming out of its shell.

  “That’s Judge Gray,” Thomas muttered. “He’s probably filling his ear with how you tried to off his mother with the M-54 in the lasagna pan.”

  Laney shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” Strangely it didn’t. She, who had once cared so greatly about people’s respect and opinion, had discovered it wasn’t so important after all. Rock could tell everyone she had rabies and howled at the moon. As long as people were talking about her, they would leave Ty alone. She gladly would take full responsibility for the fruitless locker search if it meant removing the blemish from Ty’s record.

  Suddenly someone’s warm hand touched Laney’s arm. She turned and saw Ty Steele standing there. “Ty?”

  The small lines around his mouth etched deeper into his face. His eyes, dark and deep-set, had tiny red lines of fatigue. “We need to talk,” he said.

  Laney nodded, but Thomas frowned. “You don’t have time to go anywhere,” he said. “We’re just waiting for Dad to give the word before we start.”

  Ty pulled a worn paper from his pocket. “This can’t wait.” He spoke as if he and Laney were alone. “As I was driving here, I remembered what you had said about miracles, about asking for one.” His eyes held hers in a steady gaze. “So I did.”

  Laney nodded. “You asked.”

  “And nothing happened,” Ty said. “Instead, I kept having a nagging feeling I’d missed something about the locker search.” He lowered his voice. “We didn’t search the corn chip bag. There could have been bullets inside. It was heavy enough. And there’s something else, too.”

  Thomas laughed. “Bullets in the corn chip bag?” He shook his head. “You’ll have to come up with something better than that. Even Laney would never believe something so farfetched.”

  Even Laney? She wanted to step hard on her brother’s shoe.

  Ty scowled. “I figured out the code. It’s so obvious.”

  Her father walked over to join them. He frowned on seeing Ty Steele—maybe because she was standing so close to him. “You ready, honey?” He took Laney’s arm and pulled gently. “I’ll walk you to the podium.”

  “The numbers on the paper were a time,” Ty said, ignoring her father. “If I’m right, something could happen about fifteen minutes from now. We can’t waste a second.”

  “Do you see how he’s trying to use you, Laney?” Thomas’s eyebrows nearly touched his hairline. “If you leave now, it’ll look bad for Dad. All Steele’s trying to do is get back in the sheriff’s race.” He glared at Ty. “Some hero you are, figuring this out just now.”

  Ty shrugged. “I’m going to search the lockers again. I need you and Angel.”

  “This is so low, trying to get at my father by manipulating Laney,” Thomas whispered furiously. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

  Ty held Thomas’s gaze. “This isn’t an attempt to do anything but prevent a school shooting.”

  “If you go near the school, you’re fired,” Laney’s father said flatly. “We both know this is nothing more than a campaign ploy.”

  Laney wavered. Her father was counting on her. His need projected itself clearly. The desire to please him, to gain his approval and therefore his love, filled her more forcefully than ever before. If she ran out on him now, he might never forgive her. Please, God, help me do the right thing.

  “Come on, Laney,” her dad urged. “For once in your life listen to reason.”

  Is my father right, Lord? She imagined the long line of her failures soaring to the sky like a kite on a windy day.

  Her father seemed to sense her indecision. “You’d only be encouraging Steele to throw away what’s left of his career.”

  Laney looked from her father to Ty. She wanted to please both of them and couldn’t. Maybe her father was right. By refusing to help Ty, she’d be doing him a favor. And then she realized it didn’t matter what either of them wanted for her. She needed to do what God wanted for her.

  You know me, God, better than anyone. Where do You want me?

  Laney opened her eyes. She threw her shoulders back and tilted her chin to meet Ty’s gaze. If Rock had taught her anything, it was that if she didn’t take herself seriously, no one else would either. “I’m going with you.”

  Her father’s jaw tightened the way it always did when he attempted to control his temper. “If you walk out of here, Laney, don’t plan on coming back.”

  “I’m going,” Laney said flatly. She pulled a paper from her pants pocket and handed it to Thomas. “You’ll need this.”

  ❧

  “Angel’s in the van,” Laney said, pushing the building’s glass doors open.

  Ty eyed the dusty van parked with two wheels on the curb and Angel hanging out the front seat window.

  Laney followed his gaze. “I parked in the shade for Angel.”

  “What shade?” Ty asked. “The parking meter you’ve nearly knocked down?”

  “It’s just leaning a little.” Throwing open the door, she began to climb inside. “We don’t have time to argue about my parking job.”

  Ty slipped in ahead of her. “You’re right,” he said, “but I’m driving. I’ve seen you in reverse, and it isn’t pretty.”

  Laney climbed into the passenger seat. She kept her head held high as the minivan bounced and scraped its way off the curb. He swung the car out of the parking spot and accelerated in a burst of speed that sent Angel’s ears flying. Laney braced her legs and wondered if the minivan had ever gone this fast.

  Glancing at Ty’s profile, Laney saw the stubborn set to his jaw and the tightness of his hands gripping the steering wheel. The reality of what they were doing slammed into her. If he was right, they were about to step into the middle of an extremely dangerous situation. Ty could be shot, possibly killed.

  He wouldn’t hesitate to put himself in front of a bullet if it meant saving someone. Lord, please take care of Ty. Don’t let him get hurt. If I trip or do something else clumsy, please let me trip the right person. In Your name I pray. Amen.

  “Wish I had my siren,” Ty muttered as he pushed the accelerator.

  “Look out!” Laney shouted.

  Ty hit the brakes, and the minivan skidded sideways. “What?”

  “A squirrel!” Laney shouted. “You nearly ran it down. Didn’t you see it?”

  “You’re nuts,” Ty said. He straightened the steering wheel. “Actually, I’m the one who might be nuts.” Shaking his head, Ty looked directly ahead. “I’m paranoid, probably, even to think something is going to happen at the school.”

  You’re not the only one, Laney thought, who’s suffering from paranoia. It had to be her imagination, but she could have sworn she’d just seen a vintage red convertible following them. Why would Rock be tailing them? Had her father sent him to arrest them? No way, she decided, relaxing slightly. He would have sent his deputy in a patrol car.

  “Don’t worry,” Laney said. She gripped Angel more tightly. “No matter what happens, we’re doing the right thing.”

  She checked the rearview mirror once more for Rock’s car and saw nothing. Of course she wouldn’t see anything. Right now Rock stood in the first row listening with rapt attention as her brother introduced her father. Suddenly she had an awful thought. I couldn’t have given him the wrong paper, could I?

  What if she had? Would Thomas read the poem she’d found in church? With a sinking feeling, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

  “Oh, no!” Laney blurted.

  “What?” Ty scanned the road nervously and tapped the brakes. “Another rodent on the road?”

  “No,” Laney moaned. “I gave Thomas the wrong piece of paper. Instead of my speech, I gave him the poem.” She shut her eyes.

  Ty’s frown increased, but he d
idn’t have time to respond. The high school came into sight then, a sprawling redbrick building with two sides coming together in a two-story-high glass wall. He slammed the brakes as the minivan skidded to a halt in front of the school.

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Laney gave one last look over her shoulder, scooped up Angel, and then hurried after Ty.

  Twenty-two

  “I’m sorry,” the receptionist in the front office said when Laney and Ty stopped to register in the front office, “but no dogs are allowed. It’s a school policy.”

  Ty whipped out his badge. “That’s no dog,” he growled. “That’s a canine officer.”

  The woman adjusted her glasses higher on her nose. “I’ve never seen a German shepherd that looked like that. In fact, I’ve never seen a dog with such big ears.”

  “It’s a papillon,” Laney said.

  “Just give us our passes, please,” Ty said. He shifted his weight. All his senses were screaming to hurry, and this woman looked as if she were prepared to spend the afternoon questioning them.

  “I’ll need your identification,” the woman said, still starring at Angel and making no move to register them. “All of you.”

  Laney pulled out her driver’s license. Ty handed her his badge. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he hoped she wouldn’t demand to see Angel’s identification.

  Finally a machine printed off two self-adhesive badges. Ty ripped them off the machine and headed for the door.

  With Laney close on his heels, Ty climbed the stairs two at a time to the second floor. Bursting into the hallway, he passed students crowding the corridor. Lockers slammed, and laughter echoed through the halls. Boys in baggy jeans shoved each other playfully, and girls with hip-hugging jeans looked at Ty curiously. Ty hoped they were in time.

  As they neared the locker, he stopped and signaled Laney to be quiet. The door of the locker swung wide open as a tall, skinny boy of about sixteen peered into its depths. Ty grabbed Laney’s hand and pulled her into the recess of a nearby classroom door.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered. Her fingers tightened around Angel.

  “Just watch,” Ty whispered back.

  Moments later the boy finished loading his backpack. He slammed the locker door shut and turned toward the stairwell.

  As the boy passed them, Ty pressed Laney behind him to hide Angel.

  “Did you see what’s in his hand?” Laney whispered to Ty. “It’s the same lunch bag we saw last week.”

  “I see it,” Ty said.

  “Shouldn’t we stop him?”

  Ty shook his head. “Not yet.” He silenced the next question on her lips with a glance.

  They heard the noise from the cafeteria before they saw the large, rectangular room. The roar of voices talking and laughing was ordinary and reassuring. The smell of fried food that wafted through the air suggested that cheeseburgers and onion rings, not violence and shooting, were on the menu.

  Laney and Ty paused at the entrance to the cafeteria and scanned the room. Hundreds of students crowded around portable gray tables. Others passed slowly through cafeteria lines.

  Floor to ceiling windows on the far side of the room opened into an outdoor courtyard area and provided a view of the surrounding pine forest.

  Laney touched Ty’s arm. “He’s sitting down,” she said, “all by himself.”

  Ty nodded and led Laney to the table across from the boy. Apparently oblivious to them, the boy sat at the table staring at the brown paper bag in front of him. His long, thin face held little color or expression.

  “Aren’t you going to do anything?” Laney looked at Ty. “Shouldn’t you question him or something?”

  “Just wait,” Ty said.

  “What if he’s waiting for the cafeteria to fill up before he starts shooting?”

  “What if he’s just some kid who wants to eat his lunch in peace and quiet?”

  “What about the corn chips? We should let Angel sniff them.”

  The boy had placed a large, wrapped sandwich, a can of soda, and the family-sized bag of chips on the table.

  “Just wait,” Ty repeated.

  “Do something.”

  Ty frowned. “Like what? Tell him to put down the bag of chips or I’ll shoot?”

  “Of course not.” Laney rolled her eyes. “Confiscate his lunch.”

  Ty frowned. “Sure. I’ll tell him I’m the nutrition police.”

  “He isn’t eating,” Laney pointed out. “Surely there’s something suspicious about that.”

  “Most teenagers don’t,” Ty said.

  “Tell me why he’s just staring blankly at the bag of chips.”

  Ty ran his hands through his hair. He checked his watch.

  “You’ve got to do something,” Laney insisted. “Look at his eyes. Something’s wrong.” She rose to her feet. “I’ll just stroll over there and let him pet Angel. If Angel gets within six inches of that bag, we’ll know for sure.”

  There was no way Ty was going to let Laney near the boy until he was certain it was safe. As she started to rise, Ty placed his hand on her arm. “Start praying for that kid if you want to help.” By giving her a job, he hoped to keep her away from the boy until he understood the situation more completely.

  “Okay,” Laney replied.

  Ty studied the boy. Sure, the kid was gawky. He’d been a bit like that himself at sixteen. He clearly remembered Mickey’s razzing him for the size of his hands hanging off long, skinny arms. None of his parts had seemed to fit, and the mirror told him this most eloquently of all. Yet all kids went through this phase. And if the boy was alone, that wasn’t necessarily a warning signal either.

  His eyes moved over the boy and came to rest on the boy’s hands. The kid’s wrist bone was as awkward and protruding as his had been. The bone looked as if everything would catch on it. He wondered if anybody had ever told the boy he would grow into his bones as his brother had done for him.

  As if sensing his scrutiny, the boy moved his arm. The sleeve slid back and revealed a drawing scribbled in blue ink. Ty’s heart accelerated as he saw the same drawing of a bullet as the one he’d seen in the dirt. Okay, Lord—please be with me. Here we go.

  Jumping to his feet, Ty moved in front of the boy. After a long moment of deliberate avoidance, the boy acknowledged Ty’s presence. “What?”

  Ty flipped his police identification onto the table. “Hand over the corn chips, kid.”

  The boy sneered as if Ty had insulted him. “You’re joking, right?”

  “It’s not a joke,” Ty stated.

  “No way.”

  “I need to see your lunch.” Ty kept his voice pleasant.

  In response the boy pulled the corn chip bag to his chest.

  “I just want to see what’s in the bag,” Ty said. “I want to help you.”

  “I don’t need your help.” The boy’s gaze slid past Ty.

  Ty’s eyes narrowed. “I think you do.”

  The boy made a sound that could have been laughter. “You can’t confiscate my chips.”

  “Why do you have a bullet tattooed on your wrist? Why did you leave that drawing on the ground?” Ty extended his hand slowly. “I just want to help.”

  The boy shrugged. “Then leave me alone.”

  “I will if you’ll hand over the chips,” Ty said, aware of how absurd it all sounded.

  “What? And nobody gets hurt?”

  Ty’s head swung around at the voice and saw Rock Weyeth. The district attorney grinned widely at the surprise Ty worked hard to conceal. Behind Rock, Laney shook her head in obvious disbelief.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Rock grinned. “I followed you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Really, Steele, I always knew you were a bully, but stealing a boy’s lunch is a bit much. Even for you.”

  “Who’s he?” the boy asked.

  “Rock Weyeth.” Rock’s shoulders straightened visibly. “I’m the district attorney. Do you want to press charges for
harassment?”

  A bead of perspiration appeared on the end of the boy’s nose and hung on, defying gravity.

  Ty inched closer to the boy. “I’m on your side, kid.”

  “You don’t have to give him your lunch.” Rock circled his ear with his finger. “This guy is officially looney.” He tugged Ty’s arm. “Come on, Steele. You’ve caused enough trouble.”

  Ty shrugged him off. “You don’t know what you’re getting into here, Weyeth.”

  Rock gave a long-suffering sigh. “I know exactly what’s going on here.” His blue eyes rolled to the heavens. “You’re trying to make a big deal over nothing. It’s a last-ditch effort to clinch the election.”

  “And you’re just here to make trouble for Ty.” Laney stepped closer to the table.

  The boy shifted in his seat with his arms around the bag of corn chips. “I’m the one leaving.”

  “First hand over the chips,” Ty added, feeling more foolish than he could ever remember.

  “Making him hand over his chips is a violation of his civil rights,” Rock declared. “There’s no just cause to search his lunch.”

  “Shut up, Weyeth,” Ty said.

  “Oh, dear,” Laney said. She released Angel. “Fetch!” she cried.

  The small dog leaped the table in a furry blur, pulled the bag of chips from the boy, and returned it to Laney.

  Rock grinned. “I guess we can add assault charges to the list.”

  Ignoring him, Laney stuck her hand into the bag. The unmistakable sound of corn chips filled Ty’s ears. He saw his entire career flash before his eyes, and for a moment, he simply stopped breathing. And then Laney said, “Oh, no.”

  Rock’s smile widened. “ ‘Oh, no’ as in there’s a bag of chips here?”

  Laney shook her head. “No. There’s a gun in here.”

  The color faded from Rock’s cheeks. “There’s a gun in the bag?”

  The boy said, “I wasn’t going to use it. I only wanted people to take me seriously.”

  Rock reached for the bag. “You’re joking, right?”

  “I’m not joking,” Laney said.

  “She doesn’t joke,” Ty confirmed.

  “Give me the bag,” Rock ordered. “It’s evident the two of you have lost your minds.”