by Lyn Cote
"Yeah. Hansen still owes me a few favors, and the state lab could hold this up for weeks. I'm sending the evidence off right after I hang up—"
"Wait." Rodd stopped him. "You have to head straight to the high school first."
"Why? Did something else happen?" Burke's voice rosin disbelief.
"Keely Turner called. She needs to see you right away. Your nephew's sitting in her office. I meant to tell you right away."
A lead ball landed in Burke's gut. He'd known Nick would give him trouble, but this wasn't good timing. One thing on top of another and it was only the first full week of school. Another danger was that Keely might start classing Nick as a troublemaker. He knew how a reputation could dog a kid. "Thanks, Rodd," he said dryly.
Within ten minutes, Burke walked into the principal's area at LaFollette High. He knew how to handle an investigation. He knew how to avoid unwanted questions from Turner. But how did he handle being the guardian of a kid in trouble at school? Especially when the principal was an attractive woman he couldn't get out of his mind?
He paused just inside the door. Keely had her long, slender back to him, leaning against the counter talking to a woman, probably her administrative assistant, behind the counter.
Keely's hair was pulled up high again. Little wisps trailed at the back of her neck. She wore a suit—pale yellow linen, expensive. Again, everything about Keely's appearance belied her position here. She didn't look like she belonged in this shabby building.
Well, she didn't, according to her father. Why was she here? Why had she stayed in LaFollette and taken on the job as principal at a small consolidated high school? Burke didn't think her father's opinion weighed much with her obviously. but what made her tick?
His mind snapped back to reality. Nick was depending on him. If Nick was guilty, Burke would make sure that he got a reasonable punishment. But if he wasn't guilty, he wasn't going to let Nick be the fall guy just because he was new here. Keely didn't strike him as unfair, but you never knew. He'd just met her father. Did the acorn fall far from the tree? After meeting the elder Turner, he had trouble putting them together in the same family. Burke pulled himself together. I'm here on business, unpleasant business. Stick to business.
"Are you sure you feel well enough to be at school today?" the silver-haired assistant was asking, sounding motherly.
"I'm fine," Keely replied. "Really. I'm just a bit tired from not getting much sleep after all the excitement."
Would Keely's father let on to her about his suspicion in last night's incident? His sympathy stirred in spite of the situation with Nick that might present itself. This lady didn't deserve having to deal with the idea that someone might have been shooting at her, not just her school.
They'd called each other by their first names last night, but in this setting, he reverted to formality. "Ms. Turner?"
She turned around. "Officer Sloan."
In the bright sunlight, the purple bruise on her forehead disturbed him even more. The silver-haired woman was right. Keely should be resting today, not here dealing with his nephew. His stomach smoldered. Nicky, if you're guilty of some stunt, you're in for it.
The older woman cleared her throat loudly. "So you're the new deputy." She looked him over and then held out her hand. "I'm Freda Loscher. Been secretary here since the dawn of time. Welcome to the county."
He stepped forward and shook her plump hand. He'd be happy when he'd gotten through all the introductions around here. "Nice to meet you," he said, noticing she didn't mind the term "secretary" which had fallen into disrepute.Interesting. Then he lifted an eyebrow at Keely, bracing himself for bad news. "You needed to see me, Ms. Turner?"
"Yes." She dipped her chin. "I'm afraid that your nephew got into trouble this morning." She nodded toward a small room off to the side. Through the open door, he glimpsed his nephew sitting with his head down. Nick didn't look up.
"He was a busy bee in the parking lot," Freda inserted in a chatty tone. "He let the air out of a whole row of tires. Mine included. What's his problem?"
"Freda," Keely said repressively, "I'll take the deputy into my office and discuss this." She motioned him toward her door.
Her prim tone did the trick. Freda hurried back to her desk. Franklin Turner was right about one thing: Keely knew how to run a taut ship. Which meant Nick could be in for it. Burke entered her office, across from the one where Nick sat, and waited for her to close the door behind them. Watching her take her place behind the desk distracted him. Focus on business. He sat. "Are you sure Nicky is the one responsible?"
She sighed, sounding fatigued. "Yes, he didn't even attempt to hide what he was doing. A teacher on the second floor looked out and watched him go from car to car, uncapping tire stems and unscrewing valves."
What did Nick hope to accomplish with this stunt? "Why didn't the teacher report it right away?" Burke complained. Lax discipline here wouldn't help him turn Nick around.
"The teacher did, but by the time a student got to me with the note, your nephew had finished one row of cars and started on the next. He was supposed to be in his first class too." She sounded as if she were trying to give Nick the benefit of the doubt. But Nick had forced her hand.
His hand too. Cocky kid. Wanted to be caught, I bet. Had Nick done this just to embarrass Burke, the new deputy? Did a seventeen-year-old kid think like that? I'm out of my league here.
Then what had happened here last night rushed through him once again. Seeing Keely face down on the floor had affected him. In the big city, victims were usually strangers. He could see now that keeping the law in a small town would be different. He'd know more of the victims and lawbreakers as people.
"Burke?"
"So he was skipping class and vandalizing cars?" Burke repeated dryly.
"Yes, that's it unfortunately. But no property was destroyed and no one was hurt."
He nodded, frowning. Compared to the possibility that Nick might have shot out her windows last night, this wasn't as serious. But he couldn't let Nick get away with this just because it looked so innocent by comparison. Another situation made sitting here uncomfortable. Grady was a suspect in last night's incident too. The fact that both their relatives were suspects in the same case made the whole situation ...sticky. "What's the punishment for this type of prank?"
She raised her eyebrows at him. "A one-day suspension—after he gets an air pump and reinflates all the tires he flattened."
"Is that all?" He slid forward on his chair. "Sounds like—"
"Let the punishment fit the crime. I'll save the big guns for ...well, if I need them in the future. But let's hope this will be enough to prevent a further incident."
"Okay." He moved to stand.
She stopped him with a raised hand. "Before you leave, I'd like to ask—what do you think your nephew was trying to accomplish today? I need some hint of how to handle him if the staff and I are going to help him get settled in here."
Discussing how to handle Nick only emphasized how out in left field Burke felt. He hated to have to bare his nephew's problems to someone else—since his neglect had contributed to Nick's difficulties. Burke had put duty to the MPD before his family, and now Nick might pay the price. Burke gripped the wooden arms of the chair and then met her eyes. "I don't usually deal in rehabilitation. But I suppose you need to."
She smiled with sympathy and moved from behind her desk, settling herself on its edge. "Yes, I do because I'm in the business of helping teens mature so that you won't have to deal with them later."
Her nearness distracted him. He wished she'd stayed behind her desk. But he admired her for offering him help with Nick. Her whole handling of this prank impressed him. Though his nephew might not recognize it, he'd lucked out with this new principal. Still, this thought didn't ease Burke's feeling of shirking his responsibility.
"Okay," he started grudgingly, "my nephew didn't want to come with me to Steadfast. But my family—especially my father—thought Nicky needed a stro
ng male influence."
"I see." She nodded. "Well, that helps me understand this better. I will say this. Nicky wasn't rude or disrespectful when caught—"
"Why should he be? He wanted you to catch him. He may think that if he acts up enough I'll send him home." No way, Nick.
"That fits teen logic." She grinned.
Her amusement loosened a tightness inside him. That's right—he just let air out of some tires. No bloodshed. "It also won't work. He's here for the year and I'll tell him so." Burke stood up. "If that's all, I'll run him over to the garage and pick up an air pump."
"Good. I wish all guardians were as cooperative."
"I'll make sure Nick takes responsibility."
She accompanied him into the outer office. There, a kid of medium build and with spiked blond hair stood, propped against the counter. "Hey, Sis, I need a pen. Lost my last one."
So this was Keely's baby brother and another suspect? Burke looked him over, recalling the anonymous call referring to him. Burke noted the kids' resemblance to Turner. More to the point though, he didn't like the insolent way the kid looked at his sister.
"The school store," she said, "will be open during lunch—"
"But I'll lose points for not having one in my next class," the kid complained.
"That's unfortunate—"
"This your brother, Grady?" Burke asked to cut off the wrangling, make the kid aware of him.
"Yes. Burke Sloan," she performed the introduction, "Grady Turner."
Burke offered his hand to the teen. "I hear you were in town last night."
"Couldn't have been me." The teen dropped Burke's hand. "I was grounded."
To Burke's experienced ear, Grady's too quick, too casual denial rang false.
Grady turned to his sister. "So you can't afford to give me a measly pen?"
"If this was the first time you'd asked . . ."
While Keely lowered the boom on her brother for his careless attitude, Burke watched Freda open the door to the small adjoining room and shoo Nicky out to him. Grady was blond. Nick was dark like his dad, and he had a cocky grin on his face, too.
Burke straightened. "Wipe that smirk off your face, Nicky—"
"Don't call me that," the teen snapped, "Uncle Burke-ee."
Grady barked a laugh that sounded more like a sneer. "So the new kid's uncle's a cop?" Before anyone could respond, he left, slamming the door behind him.
Ignoring Grady's dramatic exit, Burke regretted the slip. Maybe Nick hadn't wanted anyone to know about their connection, but in a small town it wouldn't have taken long to get around. "Nick, apologize to Ms. Turner for behaving like a jerk this morning."
Nick glared at him.
"Do it—" Burke stiffened his tone—"or you won't be driving yourself to school tomorrow."
Nick flushed. "I apologize, Ms. Turner." The words sounded wrung from him.
She nodded and then turned to Burke. "One moment please. I heard that Walachek was arrested again last night. Why?"
Burke didn't like this line of questioning. It was too close to his real suspicion. "Walachek was harassing the cashier at the cafe in town here. I arrested him and turned him over to another deputy to run in."
"I see. It's over Carrie's custody, right?"
You're too smart, Keely. Hoping she wouldn't guess that Walachek might have shot out the windows, he said, "Don't worry. Walachek isn't going to get out this time. No judge is going to let him put up bail a second time. The man beat his daughter and has threatened two women two nights in a row. That can't be ignored."
She nodded again but with pursed lips.
"I'll call when I have anything on the shooting." With a hand at the back of Nick's neck to urge his nephew out the door, Burke walked out.
Keely hesitated outside the doorway of her office. Watching the deputy walk away through the sunlit main entrance held her in place.
His effect on her students was no less striking. The hallway as usual was clogged with noisy students, rushing to their next classes. But Burke parted them like Moses parting the Red Sea.
She heard the students' voices: "That's the deputy. . ."
"From Steadfast. . ."
"What's he doing . . ."
"Maybe they caught whoever shot . . ."
Memories rushed though her—Burke helping her up last night, his tender touch, his sympathy. And today his no nonsense, right to the point manner impressed her. What a nice change from most parents. Don't be too hard on your nephew, Burke. This was Nick's first trick, and no one was hurt.
Coming back to the present, she tried to tighten her control over herself. I can't stand here gawking at Burke. Not with Freda watching. Keely couldn't let anyone here even suspect that she'd noticed the man and start the gossip train.I should turn and walk into my office. But she couldn't bring herself to move or stop watching Burke until the outside door closed behind him. That finally broke their connection. She turned to find Freda right behind her.
"My, so that's the new deputy," Freda cooed.
Keely felt her cheeks warm. "Yes, he's very efficient—"
"I should say so. That was the first word that popped into my mind when I saw him. I said what an efficient-looking man." Freda patted her heart. "Oh my, if I were only thirty years younger."
Keely refused to give Freda any reaction. Matchmaking was a popular hobby around here, especially with the ever-romantic Freda. Keely would have to be more careful how she behaved around Burke. She walked into her office.
Burke's question came back to her. Why had he asked Grady if he'd been in town last night? Did he think Grady might have been the culprit in the drive-by shooting? Had Grady snuck out again? But even if that were true, why would he shoot out the school windows?
Waves of worry washed through her. Had Grady known she was at school last night? If he had shot the windows, did he realize that a bullet might have gone astray and wounded someone, maybe her? Or could he have shot at her—wanting to scare her? Her nerves quivered with each wave. How had things gotten so bad between her and her brother that she could even entertain thoughts like these?
The unwelcome answer popped into her mind. Grady was capable of doing just about anything and just to pay her father back. Father had insisted that Grady learn how to shoot and Father had refused to send Grady away to that school in California where he'd wanted to finish high school. She thought her father sometimes went out of his way to antagonize her brother.
The bump on her head started throbbing again. Dear Lord, what's the answer? Who's responsible? Why did this shooting happen? Is there anything I should be doing? I'm at a loss.
Nearly a week had passed and today Burke had to find Keely to discuss the case of the driveby window-shooting at the high school. And he didn't want to go to her Because every day, against his will Burke's mind had drifted to the lovely principal of the high school. It had been years since a woman had entered his mind and refused to leave. And a school principal in the bargain?
He'd tried to figure this out so the solution would break the connection he felt to her. So far, he'd only come up with the fact that besides being good-looking, she was excellent at her job , caring and had a--rarely seen by a cop--quality of transparent honesty.
With a glum and surly Nick beside him, Burke drove over the county roads toward Keely. He wondered maybe his preoccupation with her was all due to the disruption of his life—the move, dealing with Nick, attending church again weekly.... Last Sunday, he'd come home feeling like a peeled onion—layers of his protective covering had been stripped from him. Pastor Weaver had preached on the parable of the unfaithful servant.
Burke had realized that he was like the servant who'd buried his talents, not even earning interest for the master. Burke's remorse over not 'spending himself' in doing what he could to help Nick get through his parents' divorce had expanded inside him, making it hard to swallow. He glanced sideways at Nick. The kid's face was a thundercloud.
And what had prompted his errand
was that, Walachek's bullet hadn't been a match. So the bullet from the high school incident had yet to be identified. Today Burke had no choice but drive to Keely, to pursue the two anonymous phone calls, implicating Grady and Nick. He had to compare bullets from the crime scene with ones from both firearms. He'd had to ask Harlan for a spent bullet from his rifle. And while Harlan would comply with regret, he might need a search warrant to wrest bullets from the Turners' guns. To avoid this, Rodd had suggested Burke talk to Keely first. See if they could come up with a way to get Turner's cooperation.
Burke didn't want to talk to Keely first. It made him feel like a high school kid again—being sent to the principal. And he didn't need the distraction of her now. It was one of the first times Burke could recall not agreeing with Rodd on a case. But Rodd was the sheriff, Burke's boss.
Evidently, however, Rodd had to worry about playing hard ball with the son of the richest man in the county. Burke thought the Turners shouldn't get "gloves on" treatment. He knew what his union foreman father would have to say about that. Burke didn't go farther to think about his dad's opinion of Burke and Keely ever being a couple. A labor union father and a factory owner father. Don't go there.
And today, to top everything off, he'd had just about enough of his nephew's lip and it was only ten in the morning. Fuming, Burke pulled up to the little bungalow a few miles out of Steadfast, The Family Closet. The shop was closed for Labor Day. But when he'd called the Turner home, Keely's mother told him that Grady and Keely were there sorting new donations. Looking through the open garage door, Burke glimpsed Grady rummaging through a box.
Keely must be in the shop. He studied it. He hadn't gotten a good look at the place that midnight visit when he'd sat and talked to Keely on its back porch. Why did everything keep pulling him back to this woman? It didn't help his mood that he'd even thought once or twice this week about calling her—just to hear her low voice.