by Chris T. Kat
Flatly, I replied, “Sure, as soon as I get over my trust issues with you.”
Silent and fuming, he followed me to the door. Snidely, I asked, “Are you capable of keeping your temper in check?”
His eyes blazed. They positively blazed. A devious grin spread over my face. “As much fun as it is baiting you, I think I’m done for today.”
Parker blinked at me, looking so bewildered that I added, “Stop looking stupid and do not ever threaten me again.”
“I won’t.” Parker sounded strangely subdued. More cheerful, he said, “You’re serious about Alex, huh?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Ouch.”
The front door opened as we climbed up the steps. Mrs. Hanson stood in the doorframe, an apron tied around her waist and a dishtowel slung over her shoulder. She could have sprung right out of a fifties advertisement for some cleaning product. I refrained from saying so and instead held out my hand for her to shake.
“Mrs. Hanson, thank you for calling us.”
“Hello, detectives, please come in.”
She ushered us into the house and further down the hall into the kitchen. Last time we were here, she had led us into the living room.
She sat us around a polished wooden table, the smell of freshly baking pie wafting in the air. Without asking, Mrs. Hanson set two expensive-looking coffee cups in front of us and filled them up. Smiling at us, she asked, “Sugar? Milk?”
Parker took both whereas I declined. Mrs. Hanson bustled around in the kitchen while Parker and I sipped our coffee. Overdosing on caffeine was becoming a real threat today.
After sitting there for five minutes and watching Mrs. Hanson stashing dishes in the dishwasher, wiping the counter clean, and putting away cutlery, I cleared my throat. “Mrs. Hanson? I believe you called us to tell us something important?”
Mrs. Hanson tensed up, clutching the dishcloth in her right hand tightly before she let out a breath. Somehow, the noise she made reminded me of a deflating balloon, the air swishing out in a long-drawn hiss. Exchanging a quick glance with Parker, I saw him frowning.
Mrs. Hanson rinsed out the washcloth before she turned around to us. She was very white in the face, and sharp lines showed around her eyes and mouth as she stared at us. Patiently, we waited while she fought an internal battle. Her posture slumped suddenly and tears pooled in her eyes. The change in her demeanor startled me.
“The other day you asked if we had received any kind of threatening letters. My husband believes this is all a bad joke, but I’m not sure and I don’t want to jeopardize Connor’s health. He’s got enough trouble as it is.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she went on, “We received four such letters altogether. The last one arrived a week ago.”
“Do you still have those letters?” Parker asked as he bent forward over the table. Tension and anticipation radiated from him in almost palpable waves.
“Only the last one. Gary, my husband, threw the other ones away.”
Mrs. Hanson made no move to retrieve the letter. I was just about to ask her to get it when she started anew, her voice trembling. “The older letters were scary and made me especially uneasy, but you could still dismiss them. That last letter… there is an ultimatum. It says that he’ll kill Connor on the fourteenth if we haven’t moved away by that time.”
I expected her to break down and cry inconsolably. From Parker’s stiff posture and wary expression, he clearly imagined the same scenario. Mrs. Hanson took in a shuddering breath, dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, and hastened out of the kitchen, saying, “I’ll get the letter.”
Parker and I stared at each other. Very softly, he admitted, “She’s kinda freaking me out. A little bit.”
Raising my eyebrows, I responded, “A little bit or a big bit?”
He stuck out his tongue at me.
“How very mature.”
“We already established I’m not acting mature, so why should I bother?”
I didn’t bother replying to his rhetorical question. Mrs. Hanson came back, strode to the table, and laid an envelope on it. Parker and I snapped gloves on our hands before we pulled the letter out of the envelope. The content was an exact copy of the one Alex had shown us, except for the “be-out-of-town-by” date.
Mrs. Hanson stood next to the table, her face impassive, waiting for us to comment on the letter. Carefully, I said, “Mrs. Hanson, we would like to do some tests on this letter. It might be possible to find out who the originator of it is.”
“You’re taking this seriously, aren’t you? I knew you would take it seriously! I told Gary that this isn’t something to be dismissed. I told him!”
Mrs. Hanson exploded into motion, surprising Parker and me. Pacing the kitchen, she rambled on and on about how she had told her husband. She stopped as suddenly as she had started and fixed us with a fierce look. “Will the police protect my son?”
“We’re taking this threat seriously, Mrs. Hanson, and—”
She cut Parker off. “Will the police protect my son? Can you guarantee the safety of my son if we stay here?”
“I’m sure we can arrange protection for several days.”
“Several days? What if whoever is threatening my son won’t take the risk of harming Connor with the police hanging around? What if he waits until you aren’t protecting Connor anymore?”
“Mrs. Hanson, the police—”
This time she cut me off. “No. You listen to me. I’m sure you’re going to do your best and I’m glad I showed you the letter, but you can’t guarantee the safety of my son. Hence, I’ll be packing and taking Connor up to my sister’s. I’m not putting him at risk. I almost lost him a few years ago; I won’t go through that again.”
All our attempts at soothing her fell on deaf ears. She ushered us out of her house, claiming she had to inform her husband about her plans. I wondered where the woman who had seemed so afraid of her husband yesterday had vanished to. We made her give us her sister’s name and address so we could reach her; then we let her walk us out.
“Wow,” Parker said as we strolled to the car. “She’s really protective, huh?”
“That she is. I’m curious whether she’ll be able to stand up to her husband. Maybe a patrol car should drive around here a few times today and tonight.”
“You think the husband will go ballistic?”
“I don’t know, but how would you react if your wife said she’d take your child and run away?”
We climbed into the car where Parker stuffed the letter into an evidence bag. “Thank God I’ll never be having that kind of trouble. We need to find a hint, anything. This could be very serious, Jeff. This is very likely only the tip of the iceberg.”
“We’ll get the letter to forensics, inform Williams, and drive over to the school. We can’t make a public announcement or anything; the parents would panic,” I thought out loud as I pulled the car onto the street.
“So it’s better if a few of them lose their children?”
“What?” I asked, startled. Throwing a glance sideways I said, “We don’t even know for sure that someone will attack those children.”
“Why did you stay with Alex and Sean, then? Why is Chandler staying with them today?”
“That’s different,” I grumbled.
“No, it’s not. You can pretend it’s different, that you only took the opportunity to be close to the boy, but that’s not all of it. You are worried and so I am,” Parker said grimly.
“Let’s talk to Williams.”
Chapter 21
BACK at the station, Parker went downstairs to forensics in big, long strides, conveying aggressiveness and a whole lot of urgency. Parker had been unusually quiet on the ride here and I watched him walking away with an uneasy feeling. Hopefully, he’d keep his temper in check. I really didn’t want to deal with having him blow up or, worse even, lashing out physically at someone in forensics. Shaking my head, I prayed for Parker to keep his cool. Maybe it would even work.
/> I knocked at Williams’s door, stuck my head inside, and saw him sitting behind his desk, talking to someone on the phone. He held up his hand and mouthed “five minutes” at me.
I nodded, withdrew, and decided to call Alex. He picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”
“Hey, Alex. How is it going?”
“Sheesh, you’ve been away for, what? Two hours? Three hours? Everything is peachy over here,” Alex drawled in what surely should have been pure exasperation. I heard Sean whistle piercingly loud in the background.
“Yeah, that sounds peachy.”
“He’s not happy about not being allowed to go to school, especially since I didn’t really explain it to him. He’s also curious about why Chandler is staying with us and… well, he’s perceptive enough to know something is going on and that I’m not being honest with him.”
“It’s in his best interest.”
“Is it?” Alex sounded exhausted and I had the sudden longing to reach through the phone and hug him. My, this was getting out of hand!
I cleared my throat. “Stay put and do as Chandler tells you. I have to go.”
The line went dead. Slightly stunned, I stared at the receiver in my hand. I shouldn’t have been surprised by Alex’s reaction, I really shouldn’t. Yet, I was. While I was debating if I should call again to relieve myself of my guilty conscience or pretend to be unfazed by Alex hanging up on me, Williams took the decision out of my hands.
“Woods!” he called out.
I put the receiver back on the cradle and walked into his office. “Sir. Trenkins will be here too in a few minutes.”
“All right, shoot.”
In short order, I informed him of the letter Mrs. Hanson had given us and everything she had told us. Williams’s face turned to stone as he took in all the information. I had just finished when Parker knocked at the door. He entered without waiting for an answer, which earned him a raised eyebrow. Parker either didn’t recognize Williams’s disapproval or he ignored it. I always puzzled over their little cat-and-mouse games.
Without preamble, Parker said, “Forensics is mostly done with the first letter. They did find some fingerprints but they think they belong to the boy, uh, to Mr. Fisher. We have to bring him in and take his fingerprints for comparison. The paper can be bought anywhere and there’s nothing that gives a clue about the identity of the author.”
Clearly frustrated, Parker threw himself into a chair, scowling darkly. I didn’t feel much better. Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose and muttered, “Maybe they’ll find a hint on the other letter.”
“Like what?” Parker snapped.
I opened my eyes to glare daggers at Parker. “I don’t know. Maybe they’ll find a saliva sample on the envelope or something.”
“I doubt that. Whoever is sending out those letters is extremely careful. Forensics thinks he wears gloves. The only thing they could say is that he’s using an ink jet printer, which does not help us at all!”
“Well, we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way, don’t you think?”
“The first ultimatum is due today, we don’t know how many other parents received similar letters, and we don’t know shit!” Parker jumped up to pace around the room with his arms tightly crossed on his chest.
“Lamenting won’t help in enlightening us either,” I pointed out.
Parker whirled around, probably ready to rip my head off when Williams calmly cut in, “Enough.”
Parker stopped in his tracks but opened his mouth anyway. Williams straightened up to his full height, repeating, “I said enough.”
Vaguely amused, I watched this show of dominance. Parker clicked his mouth shut and neither of us said anything for a whole minute.
Williams spoke up first. “We’ll provide Mrs. Hanson with protection; I’ll see to it.”
“I don’t know if she really wants it. She mentioned going out of town for a while to keep her son safe.”
Williams looked at me sharply. After expelling a long breath, he said, “All right. Call her and ask if she wants protection and tell her that if she does, we will provide her with it. I want you two to speak to the teachers and people that belong to that school, see what you can find out. I’ll get more detectives on this case and send them out to the parents again. The detectives will make sure the parents know there’s a big possibility their children might be hurt if they don’t cooperate. You said something about several accidents in the past few months. Where’s the info about those?”
“On my desk,” Parker replied. “You want us to unroll those cases again?”
“It can’t hurt. Something is wrong at that school and I’ll be damned if we don’t get to the bottom of it. See that you find all the accidents in connection with that school for… let’s say the last two years. Anything. Woods, you call and bring Mr. Fisher in today.”
Parker and I nodded. I did my best not to cringe too obviously. I doubted Alex would be delighted with the prospect of having his fingerprints taken. We turned to the door when Williams said, “Woods, you go ahead. I need to have a word with Detective Trenkins.”
Parker stiffened but stayed. I walked out and closed the door behind me. At the desk, I logged into my computer and quickly searched for any kind of accidents associated with St. Christopherus and its students. A surprisingly large number of accidents popped up on my screen. I scribbled down the file numbers to retrieve them later when Parker ambled over to me.
His fingers drummed a rapid beat on my desk when he said, “Let’s go and drive to that school.”
Without looking up, I jotted down the remaining file numbers. “Just a second. You wouldn’t believe how often the name of that school comes up in accident reports. Are you unbruised?”
At that point I looked up to catch him grimacing in distaste. “As you can see.”
“Good. I’d hate to explain to the teachers why one of the lead detectives was beaten up by his boss.”
“Thanks so much for your concern about my health.”
I grinned up at him. Parker sighed but couldn’t fight off the reluctant smile on his own face. “Yeah, yeah, sorry for behaving like an ass today.”
“Hey, it’s your ass on the line.”
Parker flushed and turned away. He called for me over his shoulder, “You coming?”
“On my way.”
I could call Alex later. Maybe we could pick him up when we came back from the interviews at the school.
EVEN though we had called in advance, Headmaster Gordon Clark clearly wasn’t happy to see us again. Wary and anxious, he chattered constantly about the quality work at his school and the professionalism of his teachers. We listened politely while he summoned the first teachers up to their break room so we could talk to them.
Two women, Mrs. Campbell, comfortable-looking in her fifties, and Mrs. Cooper, young with a delicate appearance, entered the room. We greeted them, seated them at the table, and did our best to put them at ease. A pointed stare to leave didn’t register with Mr. Clark, so Parker got up again and whispered something in the headmaster’s ear that left the poor man blushing furiously. Parker smiled at him, a smile that caused my hair to stand on end.
Turning my back to the women when Parker ambled over to us, I whispered, “What did you say to him? The poor guy seemed to be short of fainting.”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Parker.”
His blue eyes sparkled with barely hidden mischief, but he still pulled off a completely innocent expression. “What? I didn’t do anything.”
“No?”
He bit his lower lip, shrugged, and then rolled his eyes. “All right, maybe I did, but hey, what you don’t know won’t hurt you, right? Come on, let’s get started, we have a lot of work to do.”
We did just that.
FOUR hours later I had a thumping headache. The teachers’ initial reluctance to provide information soon had me gnashing my teeth. They eventually became more talkative as soon as we explained t
he seriousness of the threats. Shock was the foremost emotion all of them exhibited. It floored me to see firsthand the compassion in their faces, the fierce protectiveness toward the children, and how much they loved their work. For them, it wasn’t about the disabilities; it was about the children, helping them find their way in our society regardless of all their limitations.
Parker grew steadily more silent and had a thoughtful expression on his face. You would almost think him introverted, a term which I had never before imagined using in connection with him. I didn’t dwell on his reaction too long because these people gave me a lot to think about. Concentrating became an issue and I was actually relieved when Mr. Clark came to us, demanding that we finish for today.
“Did you find any useful information?” he asked.
“You mean did we find any hints as to whether those threats are serious?” Parker shot back.
“Detectives, I’m sure you understand that I have to think about the reputation of our school, and having two detectives interrogating the school’s staff isn’t helping.”
“Well, I’m sure, Mr. Clark, that you don’t want the kind of bad publicity you’d get if it becomes common knowledge that you knew about these threats and didn’t cooperate with the police,” Parker bit out.
Mr. Clark’s color changed dramatically. Positioning myself between Parker and the headmaster, I smiled and said, “Thank you for cooperating with us so far. I’m sure it hasn’t been easy to arrange things on such short notice. I think I mentioned before we need a list of the bus drivers and other maintenance staff, too. Do you have that list ready?”
Mr. Clark blinked before he nodded. “Yes. Mrs. Evans, our secretary, printed it out. I’ll get it. Did you want to talk to her now?”
“That’s not necessary anymore. We already talked to her and your caretaker during the day, thank you.”
He nodded, turned on his heels, and stalked out of the room. Slowly, I turned to Parker and just looked at him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest in a defiant move, which cracked me up. I snorted while Parker looked at me in obvious bewilderment. He caught on swiftly and stuffed his hands into his pockets.