Covert Lessons

by Mari Carr

  Mac entered the room just as the students were pulling out their literature books.

  “Class,” he said, nodding to the kids. “Sorry to be late, Ms. Finch. Car trouble.”

  She studied his face and realized while there was trouble, she doubted it had a thing in the world to do with his car.

  She began her lesson, concerned by the distracted air surrounding Mac. Clearly his mind was on other things and she wondered what had happened during their absence from school on Friday.

  The snowstorm had passed through quickly, followed by unseasonably warm weather which left piles of wet slush that the state maintenance vehicles had no trouble clearing. Once the roads were safe enough to drive on, they’d called a tow truck which picked them up and drove them back to Mac’s car. It was a simple job to tow them out of the ditch and they’d headed home with plans of spending the remainder of the weekend in Kelly’s bed. Unfortunately, as soon as they hit the town limits on Saturday evening, Mac received a call on his cell phone from Rodney, who’d mentioned something about “all hell breaking loose” while they were gone.

  Mac had dropped her off at her townhouse with an apology and a quick, sexy kiss and she hadn’t spoken to him since. Forcing herself to concentrate on her job, she pushed her worries about him away as best she could.

  As the class began to wind down, Ryan repeated his earlier question and she realized she’d forgotten to answer it.

  “Seriously, Ms. Finch, were you sick or something? You never miss school.”

  “Oh no, Ryan. I was fine. I attended a conference.”

  “What kind of conference?” Neesha asked.

  “Actually, I’m glad you asked. I meant to bring it up myself. I learned about gangs and their presence in high schools.”

  “Shoot,” Neesha added. “You didn’t need to go to a conference to learn about that. I could’ve told you, there are gangs and they’re at Lowell. Could’ve saved you a trip.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Mac’s attention shift to the classroom conversation and for the first time since he’d entered the room, he seemed more like himself.

  “Well,” she continued, “I think we’d all be fools if we didn’t realize that there are gangs in the world and chances are good some members of those gangs attend this school.”

  “I’d say chances were better than good,” Ryan said. “Just look at all the kids who belong to that BT gang.”

  She noticed several heads turning in Ryan’s direction and watched a flush creep up the boy’s face. “Not that I know any of their names or anything,” he mumbled quickly.

  “I think kids who join gangs are stupid,” Neesha added. Kelly grinned at her comment. Neesha was one powerful girl at fifteen. She knew her mind and spoke it—often. Kelly was almost frightened to consider what the young girl would be like as a grown woman.

  “Maybe some people have a good reason for joining gangs.” José, who usually remained silent throughout class, threw the comment in from his spot in the back of the room and she struggled to keep her face impassive. She knew José’s comment would only serve to feed Mac’s suspicions about his involvement with the BTs.

  “Yeah, right. Sex and drugs and an excuse to beat people up. Those are some real good reasons,” Neesha answered sarcastically.

  José lowered his eyes at Neesha’s words and Kelly decided it was time to get the class back on track.

  “Both of you are raising interesting points and this fits in quite nicely with our lesson on persuasive speeches, so tonight for homework,” she paused until the students’ complaints and groans died down, “I want at least two paragraphs on your view of gangs. For them or against them, and I want you to give me three reasons why you feel the way you do. Pick a side and support it. These will be due on Wednesday, but you have a few minutes to get started on them now.”

  As the students pulled out paper and pencils, she silently congratulated herself on the impromptu assignment. She wasn’t sure what they might reveal, but maybe the students’ observations would help Mac’s case.

  Glancing in his direction, she noticed that his gaze throughout the entire conversation never wavered and she felt a surge of protective anger when she realized his sights were poised on José.

  He insisted on focusing his energy on the dear boy—and José’s damn comment about gangs wouldn’t help that fact. Kelly couldn’t explain her reasons but she knew, deep down in her soul, that José would never belong to a gang.

  Besides, there were other kids whose reactions to Ryan’s reference to the BTs were just as telling. Zane Brewster nearly broke his neck to throw Ryan a dirty look after his remark. Why wasn’t Mac checking him out? Zane was a fairly new student to Lowell and she was having trouble warming up to the young man. He walked with a cocky swagger and went out of his way to intimidate most of the smaller kids.

  If anybody was a member of the BTs, she decided, it was Zane. Maybe she’d mention that to Mac. Maybe that would help to turn his focus away from José.

  Yeah, and maybe the pope is Santa Claus.

  The bell rang, finally distracting Mac from his chosen target as the kids began to file out. She tidied her papers and prepared for the next class, trying to push aside the irritation she felt over Mac’s reaction to José. She realized it was irrational to feel so angry and chalked some of her annoyance up to exhaustion. Her phone had rung three times during the night, always just after she’d managed to drift back to sleep. Every time she’d answered it, the person on the other end hung up. Stupid pranksters.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning toward her across the podium. “I’m going to head up to the main office. The shit hit the fan on Friday. Somebody slashed all four tires on Mr. Hallstrom’s car, they threw a cinderblock through the assistant principal’s window and then they found some graffiti in a bathroom over the weekend that’s definitely gang-related. I’m going to take a look at the video to see if we can pinpoint some suspects. It might be a break for us.”

  The school had recently installed hidden cameras in the hallways due to the rise of fights, vandalism and suspected sales of drugs.

  “Fine, I’ll hold down the fort here.”

  He grinned at her annoyed expression. “It’ll probably take a while.”

  “It’s not a problem, Mac. Take your time. I hope you find something.” She was unable to add more as the next group of students entered the room.

  “Cool assignment, Teach,” he whispered. “Thanks.” With that, he winked and walked out. From the haggard appearance on his face, she suspected he’d worked day and night since he’d dropped her off Saturday.

  Clearly he was a workaholic and she intended to have a long talk with him about it the next time they were alone. No one could exist on pizza and three hours of sleep a night.

  Besides, neither of them had discussed anything of a personal nature since their marathon night of sex, and she was bothered by the troublesome doubts that had plagued her for the remainder of the weekend. What if she’d imagined his desire to engage in a serious relationship? What if his mentions of birth control and ownership were nothing more than pillow talk? What if he’d changed his mind altogether? She hated being such a pessimist but with her dating track record, Mac simply seemed too good to be true. She constantly found herself trying to figure out what the catch was.

  She tried to push the maddening worries away. She and Mac needed to sit down and have a long discussion—and soon.

  The bell rang before she could worry any longer and she began her lesson. When the class ended, she took a few minutes to tidy up her room before heading to the faculty lunchroom. Voices raised outside her classroom caught her attention. She struggled to suppress a groan at the idea of breaking up yet another fight. She was pleased to discover it was merely three boys talking by their lockers. Two bigger guys had their backs to her and she was just about to return to her room when she realized the conversation was far from friendly.

  “Looks to me like you need a little reminder abo
ut how things are done around here.” She recognized Zane’s voice. Glancing over his shoulder, she saw Ryan’s terrified face.

  “I didn’t say nothing. You heard me.” Ryan’s voice was insistent, borderline whining.

  “I heard exactly what you said, you stupid prick,” Zane snarled.

  “Okay, that’s enough!” She came out of her room and as she approached the group of boys, she saw surprise on Zane’s and the other bully’s face, while Ryan’s showed utter relief.

  Zane, as was his custom when caught red-handed, piled on the charm. “We were just having a little friendly conversation, Ms. Finch.”

  “I heard your conversation, Zane, and there was nothing friendly about it. Now let’s go.”

  The other boy looked at her, his face a perfect mixture of anger and belligerence. “Go where?”

  “What’s your name?” she asked when she realized she didn’t know the boy. She’d assumed when she’d approached the group that all three students were from her class.

  “What’s it to you?” the boy replied hostilely. There was something a bit disturbing about his face and voice, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

  “Excuse me?” Her face flushed with anger and her eyes narrowed. “I asked you for your name.”

  “Spongebob Squarepants.”

  “That’s it. We’re going to the office. Then you can tell Mr. Hallstrom your name.” She gestured for the boys to proceed. Zane turned to move but the other boy refused to budge.

  “Move it, Spongebob,” she insisted, a tinge of worry creeping up her spine. The young man was quite large and his face was filled with malice. If he refused to obey her, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. The halls were clear as everyone had moved into the cafeteria for lunch.

  “Is there a problem here?” Mac’s voice at that moment was as welcome as Christmas morning.

  She turned to him. “Actually, Mr. McNally, I was just about to escort these boys to the office.”

  She watched as Mac took in the scene then silently thanked God when he took a step toward Spongebob.

  “I’ll go with you,” he said, his gaze burning into the boy’s face.

  “This is bullshit!” the boy proclaimed, and she was grateful once again for Mac’s presence when the boy caught Mac’s “don’t mess with me” look and started toward the main office.

  “I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” Mac continued to trail closely behind the group of teens and the angry boy didn’t offer any more comments.

  When they reached the office, Mac escorted the two bullies to the principal’s office while she stayed behind with Ryan.

  “Ms. Finch, I don’t want any trouble.”

  “Ryan, those boys were harassing you. All I’m asking you to do is tell the principal. Tell him why they were picking on you.”

  Ryan shrugged dismissively and she suspected he’d never open his mouth to tell on the two thugs. Why did teenage intimidation defeat adult help every time?

  “Ryan,” she began, but Mac interrupted her.

  “It’s okay, Ryan. Why don’t you go on to lunch? We can take it from here.”

  Ryan looked as if he wanted to say more, but in the end, he merely walked out.

  “What do you mean ‘it’s okay’?” She whirled on Mac in a fury. While she was grateful for his help in the hallway, she didn’t appreciate him dismissing her attempts at seeing justice done.

  “I just spoke to Mr. Hallstrom. I was actually looking for those two guys when I ran into you. They were seen on the video.”

  She glanced around to make sure they couldn’t be overheard. “So they did the graffiti in the bathroom? They’re members of the BTs?”

  He shrugged. “We won’t know that until we search their lockers.”

  “Why are you searching their lockers?”

  “They used black Sharpie markers for the graffiti, but that’s not all we expect to find.”

  “What else?” she asked.

  “Drugs.”

  “Drugs?” she whispered.

  “That one boy, the rude one—”

  “He wouldn’t tell me his name,” she added.

  “It’s Mitchell Johnson, and I suspect he’s under the influence of some sort of narcotic. Did you notice his eyes? After we search the locker, we’re going to have him take a drug test.”

  “I thought there was something a bit off about him.”

  Mac’s face, which until that point had been merely stern, turned absolutely fierce. “And once again you put yourself directly in the path of a speeding car. You’re lucky the boy didn’t turn on you.”

  “Don’t start with me, Mac. There’s no way in hell I’d ever let a student be bullied outside my door.”

  “Christ, Kelly, every classroom has a phone! Couldn’t you call the office to ask for help before throwing yourself into the burning building?”

  She grimaced. He had a very good point. She’d known the second Mitchell turned around and opened his mouth in the hallway she’d bitten off more than she could chew, and she was lucky Mac had happened along at that moment.

  “I’m sorry,” she conceded. “You’re right. I should have called for help. Next time, I will. I promise.”

  She stifled a giggle at the obvious shock that flashed in his face at her quick acquiescence. No doubt he’d expected a fight. “I’m not always unreasonable, Mac,” she added with a grin.

  He laughed. “I never said you were, sweetheart.”

  “So who is this Mitchell kid? I’ve never seen him before today and I thought I knew most Lowell students.”

  “Apparently Mitchell spends as much time out of school as he does in it. Hallstrom says his list of detentions and suspensions would give War and Peace a run for its money in length. He’s nineteen and classified as a tenth grader.”

  “Geez, what an exemplary student.”

  He shrugged and then surprised her with a quick change of subject. “Kelly, I think we need to talk about last weekend.”

  Although she had been thinking the same thing, now that he was suggesting it, she felt sick to her stomach.

  “Okay,” she said softly, hoping the slight quaver in her voice didn’t betray her nervousness.

  “Tonight, I’ll come by and…” He paused as Mr. Hallstrom led the two boys back to the front office.

  “Mr. McNally, I was about to escort these boys to their lockers and conduct a search. I’d like you to come along.”

  “Search our lockers?” Zane’s voice was loud and angry. “You can’t do that! We got rights! That’s a violation of our personal property.”

  “Oh, those lockers are personal property, Mr. Brewster, but I think you’ve got the ownership wrong. They belong to the school and we can search them anytime we want.”

  “You can’t!” Zane glanced over at Mitchell, no doubt hoping the boy had some magic answer to getting them out of trouble, but Johnson never looked Zane’s way. In fact, he never took his eyes off Kelly—and she began to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

  “Shall we, gentleman?” Mr. Hallstrom led the way as Zane slowly slumped after him like a prisoner being led to the gallows. Mac stood back and held the door open, waiting for Mitchell to exit. The boy started forward, facing Kelly as she stood just inside the doorway.

  He mouthed the word “bitch”, his eyes simmering with undisguised hatred as he surreptitiously brought his hand up—and quickly slashed a finger across his throat before nonchalantly scratching his neck.

  She struggled to remain stone-faced as she watched Mac. From where he stood, he hadn’t seen any of it. Mac gave her a quick wink as he followed the boys into the hallway.

  As soon as they left, she stumbled over to a chair and fell into it. Never in her teaching career had she been so frightened by a student. She had absolutely no doubt that Mitchell was the young man who had assaulted and threatened her by her car.

  If she confessed what had happened to Mac now, he’d go ballistic. He’d be pissed as hell at her for hiding s
uch a huge secret. He might even accuse her of attempting to sabotage his investigation. And what would happen after the anger died down? While Mitchell’s threats at the car had frightened her, the thought of Mac leaving terrified her. Even though neither of them had mentioned a future together, she couldn’t help but hope for one.

  Their relationship was just getting off the ground and in a moment of foolish fear, she had failed to give him the one thing she knew he’d never stick around without—trust.

  She sighed heavily.

  Now what?

  Chapter Ten

  It was nearly eight o’clock when Kelly heard a car door slam outside her townhouse. Mac had called a few minutes earlier to say he was on his way and he briefly filled her in about the results of the locker search on the phone. She attempted to steady her breathing. She knew the coming discussion wouldn’t be easy, especially in light of the fact she’d decided to come clean about her suspicions regarding Mitchell.

  To add more fuel to the fire, she’d had two more hang-up phone calls since she’d come home from work and she was beginning to suspect it wasn’t a prankster, but a gangster.

  According to Mac, they’d only found drugs in Zane’s locker and the boy was immediately suspended and now faced probable expulsion. She and Mac concurred that it was likely Zane had been set up as a fall guy and no doubt Mitchell was the true pusher. He didn’t mention the results of Mitchell’s drug test, but he did say he thought the boy would probably only receive a five-day suspension and be back at school in a week.

  She knew the only way to have Mitchell removed from the school permanently was to confess about the attack. Silently, she sent up a prayer that Mac would understand why she’d held her peace originally and why she was speaking up now. Mitchell was a definite threat to the other students at Lowell.

  Shit. The more she thought about it, she wasn’t even sure why she’d kept it a secret. She’d just been so frightened and confused. She should have called Mac the second she’d gotten home that night. God knows she hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since the incident. She’d had nightmares every night except the single evening she’d slept in Mac’s arms. Whether her peaceful sleep that night was due to the fact she felt safe with Mac or sheer physical exhaustion brought on by their lovemaking, she didn’t know.