Relative Danger Page 8

  I hadn’t noticed anyone who appeared especially bothered by the man dying. And I didn’t want to come back here. I had learned to say no and prided myself on that major achievement.

  “Cealie, Kat has an extremely high average. But some of her teachers mentioned that she missed their classes this week. That’s so unlike Kat. And if she doesn’t attend every class and get the rest of her teachers’ instructions for finals…”

  Her other words washed over me. I finally left Hannah’s office, surprised to see some faculty members still in the hall. Coach Millet and Miss Gird looked different merely standing still. They peered solemnly at the obituary posted outside Tom Reynolds’s office. I paused near them, wanting to get their reactions. “Such a pity, that young man dying,” I said.

  Coach stuck his thick finger on Grant Labruzzo’s picture. “Called himself a janitor. He didn’t even empty our trash cans.”

  “Hmp,” Miss Gird said, nodding toward the vice-principal’s office, “and Tom got the man hired. So how does that look on him?” She and Coach stomped away.

  I shivered, watching the full-bodied man and the small woman both pumping their arms with their strides. Together, that pair could easily shove someone off a balcony.

  The detectives stood on opposite sides of the main corridor. They were speaking to adults I didn’t know while writing on pads. The administrators would tell them what I’d heard about Sledge. I hoped the police were learning what they needed. I hoped the man’s death was accidental. It was dreadful, the loss of any life was, but I prayed that no one here, especially Kat’s mentor, had caused his fall.

  The skin between my eyes tightened. Why had Kat eluded me in the girls’ restroom? Soon I’d have to find out.

  Students bustled out the school. A few sat on benches, talking and flirting. Two custodians, a thick-shouldered male and a squat female, swept floors. Teachers appeared exhausted, lugging sacks of papers. From what I’d experienced, I would forever appreciate today’s educators.

  My avocado mail truck stood out in the nearly emptied parking lot. I wished I’d learned more, but Sidmore High had given me a quick education. With trying to keep order in classes and worrying about finding the restroom and food, I had done all I was capable of achieving in one day.

  I drew closer to the mail truck, anxiety building inside my chest. Had anyone messed with my vehicle?

  Teenagers were touching various parts of my truck. A gangly fellow had the driver’s door open. All of the kids turned when I neared. I rushed forward, expecting them to run off. “We’re scoping it out,” a girl with an earring clamped to her eyebrow said to me.

  A boy of Asian descent smiled. “This is one cool set of wheels.”

  I could see no scratches, no dents. “Thanks.”

  The teens moseyed away, nodding and glancing back at the mail truck. Hey, I’m cool, I told myself, climbing inside. The threesome hopped into a Jeep and tooted when I drove past. I turned on my oscillating fan, returned the kids’ waves, and considered buying the vehicle I drove. An unusual truck with a unique color. I could have it shipped wherever I went.

  A light drizzle began and smeared my windshield. I drove into a gray sheet that separated the sunshine from rain. Wanting to return Gil’s call, I pulled my phone from my purse. I set it on my lap, found the windshield wiper knob, and turned it.

  No wipers came up. Rivulets twisted down the glass in front of me, but I could still see. Until thunder crashed. It ushered in a downpour. Waves smeared across the windshield, and water gushed in my door’s big square window. I gripped the knob and turned it like a churn.

  Sadly, I discovered why this creation hadn’t sold. My door had no window.

  I squinted to see while my truck rumbled down the road. I wanted Gil’s balmy shelter. His terrific meals and his comfy body.

  My side was soaked and the right side of my hair was all stringy by the time I drove out of the rain. My muscles all felt stressed to the max. I should go home, fix my hair, and change clothes. But the flip-flopping in my tummy won out. I headed my truck for Cajun Delights.

  Who cared what I looked like when Gil saw me? He had vacated my life and had Legs now. Food was the only thing I was after.

  Chapter 8

  “I couldn’t find the cafeteria in time for lunch,” I told Gil when I strolled into the restaurant and found him standing near the checkout counter.

  Gil’s head leaned back with his hearty laugh. Then it bent toward me. I was tempted to kiss his lips and cling, knowing they’d make me warm. So would his body. Especially his body.

  I spied Legs. Her pretty heart-shaped face glanced out from behind the buffet.

  I tilted my head to indicate her and asked Gil, “That wouldn’t happen to be a daughter or niece of yours that you didn’t tell me about, would it?”

  He looked at her. When he turned back, I hated the smirk he gave me. Gil shook his head, and my earlier enthusiasm vanished. “You couldn’t find a cafeteria?” he said.

  “It’s been one of those days I’ll have to write about in my memoirs.” The less I thought about the day, the better, especially considering what Hannah just asked me. And I didn’t want to tell Gil I’d shoved into Kat’s school. “But now,” I said, “I need food. You have some?”

  “Anything you could yearn for.”

  I could yearn for other things, especially with him so close. But I was weak from hunger, and his girlfriend was here. Maybe she was co-owner now, sharing his responsibilities. And his bed?

  My mind answered that question affirmatively and caused my throat to make a deep growl. She might come over and sit with us. I dreaded meeting the cute young thing, but worse things could happen. I had seen that at Sidmore High.

  Most tables were empty since it was mid-afternoon. I joined Gil at the place where he’d sat before, and he ordered for me. For himself, he asked for a light whiskey sour. Then he turned to me. “I was wondering whether Kat made a decision about school.”

  I shrugged. “Wish I knew for sure.”

  “In a couple of weeks I’ll be leaving to start up a restaurant in Tennessee. I wanted to make sure I’d still be around if she graduates.”

  Gil would soon leave. I would, too. But knowing he’d depart brought about a strange tugging in my chest. “Where in Tennessee?” I asked, voice pitched too high.

  “Gatlinburg.”

  I nodded. “It’s a lovely town.”

  He scooted his chair close. “Well now you have to tell me what my friend Cealie has been doing since she left me.”

  His friend? And I left?

  Yes, I did, I recalled. I’d lost Cealie sometime during my long marriage and was now discovering her again. I liked that. I could smell Gil’s skin. Distinctive. Manly. I controlled my voice. “I’ve traveled, seen some exotic places that I hadn’t been to before.” I smiled as though I’d enjoyed every minute.

  “That’s what you wanted.” He leaned back hard in his chair.

  Not long before we’d separated, Gil had appeared sad but said he wouldn’t become baggage that I’d have to lug around in my freedom. I have to tell you, Cealie, I’ll live by your decision. But parting from you isn’t my choice.

  It was my choice. Then why did the back of my eyes burn and their fronts feel all misty? I swiped a hand across them and scanned the buffet. Didn’t see his new woman. It sure hadn’t taken him long to get over our separation. Why was his girlfriend just lurking while I was sitting here with him? Probably he’d told her I was an old friend. Well, ancient compared to her. “I like your restaurant,” I said, shunting the conversation to a new direction because if he asked more about my adventures, then he’d tell me about his. With that woman? No way.

  Gil’s dark eyebrows crimped. He didn’t like a chilled, indirect conversation. He knew that I didn’t either, but if I’d shifted our talk another way… He peered across his establishment. “I’m pleased with it, too.”

  A waiter brought drinks and my salad, and I dug in. Gil lounged back and watche
d. His gaze made my face heat up, its warmth spreading down my body. I avoided looking at him. I ate my cup of chicken and andouille sausage gumbo, my belly quieting with the comfort food, and then my entrée arrived. The Seafood Sprinkler held bite-sized fried catfish tidbits and jumbo shrimp stuffed with crabmeat. The soft-shell crab was to die for. I eventually shoved my plate aside. “Why don’t you have some?”

  A great smile lit Gil’s face. “I’ve eaten. You go on, do it some real damage.”

  I finished damaging his food and my diet. “I can’t eat another bite,” I announced. Spying an oyster hidden beneath fries, I grabbed it.

  The smile lines near Gil’s eyes deepened. He sipped his drink, and our talk after the meal remained guarded. We were no longer lovers. We both tried to present ourselves to each other and the world as almost strangers. We succeeded fairly well.

  He walked me to the door, and I shifted my feet while he remained still. Inches apart, we gazed at each other. Gil leaned down and said my name from that spot deep in his throat. I rose on tiptoe, my lips nearing his.

  Legs leaned out from behind a wall.

  I dropped flat on my feet. My hand shot out. “Thanks for everything,” I said to Gil, grabbing his hand and shaking it.

  “Any time.” He spoke with lackluster eyes. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “No, it might still be drizzling.”

  “I’ll get you an umbrella.”

  “Thanks, no.” If I used one, I’d have to return it. And coming back around Gil and leaving him again wasn’t an experience I cherished. When I did that before, a void opened in my heart. It remained unfilled.

  And now he had someone new. She’d probably ask him if I always looked so disheveled. Gil hadn’t mentioned my drenching. He’d surely noticed, but was too much a gentleman to say anything.

  The sky had cleared to a baby blue, I saw when I went outside. I wiped the wet seat of the mail truck and drove to my condo, emotions swirling with my thoughts. Faces of people—possible murderers—a student or teacher. Kat. Legs and Gil. Being near him had felt disturbing. Wonderful.

  No. You know what you want, I reminded myself. I wanted freedom, no more major responsibility. No more waiting for plumbers or worrying about children, like I was doing right now, worrying about the child of my son. Of course I cherished Roger and Kat, and I’d stay near and take care of them, but they’d let me know I wasn’t wanted for that task any longer. Domesticity was no longer in my life’s blueprints. And that included romantic entanglement. I’d never make love with Gil again.

  I stomped the foot pedal. Passing a stretch limo, I tried to peek into a shaded window. Nothing was visible, but the image made me mentally concoct the long svelte legs poured into Gil’s partner’s black stockings. Ugggh.

  * * *

  By the time I reached the condo, I had pushed Gil and his woman from my mind. Trying to make sense of the day, I paced. “Why would any person with a grain of sense want to become a teacher today? Those students are really something,” I said to my cactus Minnie in the kitchen. “And I used to think teachers were intelligent people.”

  The pink puffs on Minnie’s head appeared to be spreading. She didn’t look quite as healthy as when I’d bought her. A bath would probably jolt her ailing system back to heath. I dumped water on her and said, “I hate teaching!”

  Anger curled through my stomach. Hannah Hendrick had asked, using Kat as enticement. Pounding inside my chest told me I had done something stupid. Dread of the unknown, and especially the known, made my arms quiver. I had given in. Tomorrow I would again be a teacher.

  “But Ms. Hendrick spoke about Kat’s problem,” I explained to Minnie, trying to placate me. I walked a small circle in the kitchen. “I need to go back to Sidmore High to make sure Kat keeps going.” Minnie appeared stronger with water droplets holding to her head. Talking to plants was good, I’d once heard. I touched her soft prickers while students’ reactions ran through my head. Kat had avoided me in the restroom. Some kids had slept. Sledge had seemed threatening, and then there was Roxy. “When kids turn thirteen, they should be put to sleep until they’re twenty,” I suggested to my friend Minnie.

  Her stem slanted. Maybe hearing too many problems would upset her. With plants, who knew? How much study had been done on plant feedback? I left the kitchen. I wasn’t ready to talk to Kat yet. Still too much turmoil inside me from her behavior and from being around Gil. Sprawling on the sofa, I checked the day’s top news stories on my cell phone. The temperature in San Francisco was fifty-six. I touched the memory button for my office there, but stopped when a rock-hard knot formed in my throat. Freddy and I had moved there and started that business in our home, editing papers for college students and brochures for local companies. I smiled, recalling the rickety typewriters we’d used. How much time it had taken to determine the space we’d need to leave at the bottom of pages for term paper footnotes.

  I rubbed my eyes, not surprised to find them damp. I’d loved Freddy. Still did. But he’d left. I understood Roger’s plight. Of course he wanted Nancy to still be with him. But she couldn’t. And Kat needed her dad. I needed to make certain I’d get her to school tomorrow before I could focus on how to help him.

  I connected with my Deluxe Copyediting office in San Francisco, and my manager Betty Allen picked up. “Hi, Cealie,” she said brightly. To my inquiry, she said they weren’t having any problems. “Only the usual, the client who likes everything on his brochure we created—except for the headline and the visuals. The graphic designer I worked with sure got a laugh about that.” Betty Allen and I both chuckled. “And we just got a call from the marketing director of Mega Hotels, Inc. He wants their work completed yesterday—because he procrastinated in getting the mock-up to us.” Betty Allen snickered. “I just hope our days keep getting warmer.”

  “And how are your sweet husband and new grandson?” I asked.

  “Fantastic.”

  “Wonderful. Give them a bunch of kisses for me.” She agreed to do it, and then we hung up. I phoned Orlando, and afterward Cape Cod. Warm in Florida, still too chilly way up north. Other than that, my managers all said business remained steady. I decided not to call the other cities. People who ran my agency’s offices did their jobs exceptionally well. Conglomerates now mainly used our services, and most of the work was completed online. The agency could be operating with only one or two large offices, but I wanted to keep the individual touch available. There were still so many people without much computer knowledge who started small businesses, and they seemed pleased that we had an office they could drive to, where a person would help them create a brochure. And often still, women retired and decided to write memoirs. They needed help reworking and editing their creations. And most wanted a person they could sit and chat with, especially since many of them didn’t even know how to send attachments. I could easily relate. In many ways, I was still a techno-dummy. But the majority of people I hired weren’t.

  How nice to own a business. How great to work with sensitive, proficient people. The livid faces of teachers at Sidmore High came to mind. The scowling teens, most appearing as motivated as slugs. And tomorrow I’d subject myself to them again?

  No way, I decided. When I’d received my degree in education, children had known about manners and values. In just one more day at Sidmore High, I wouldn’t be able to instill those things in all those teenagers.

  Happy that I’d learned I couldn’t change the world, I phoned Information. “Please connect me to the office at Sidmore High School,” I said to the information lady who answered.

  Instead of me returning to school, I’d somehow bribe Kat to keep attending.

  Satisfaction soothed my tensed muscles. “Sorry, I was in my stupid state when I told you yes,” I’d tell Hannah. “But tomorrow I absolutely will not cross your school’s doorstep.” I smirked, waiting for someone to pick up the ringing telephone. Surely people were still in that office. I had seen many staff members roaming through that area.
Custodians must still be cleaning. I’d tell anyone. Let an administrator know I won’t be there.

  Hours seemed to pass while I waited. I closed the phone, cursing everyone who worked at Sidmore High. No one could have murdered Grant Labruzzo after school hours. Nobody stayed at school that long.

  I calmed my breathing and created new plans. All I really had to do was make certain Kat continued to attend. It was time to talk to her.

  I climbed into my mail truck, wondering why I needed to determine how a stranger died. I wasn’t a detective. I hadn’t needed to sort out such things last month, when I trekked through jungles with men who wore skins and spoke Swahili. The only death I worried about then was mine, if those lions we’d viewed from afar decided to visit while we slept in hot tents.

  Parking in front of Roger’s house, I recalled the last time I saw Kat, when she ran out on me from the restroom. I climbed the steps, rang the bell, and she opened the door.

  Kat’s cheeks colored. Her gaze swung away from my eyes. She was expecting chastisement.

  “Hi sweetie,” I said, kissing her cheek and trotting in without invitation. I faced her in the dark living room. “Come riding with me, Kat.”

  “Where would we go?”

  Wherever it takes to get you to talk. “I need your help with shopping.”

  Her lips formed a half grin. “What do you need to get?”

  “School clothes. Maybe a denim dress with a little schoolhouse.”

  Kat made a real smile. “I can’t imagine you wearing anything like that, Gram. And why would you want a dress that resembles school?”

  Thickness formed in my throat. “Tomorrow I’m going back to Sidmore High,” I said with a shudder, hating to urge Kat to return. Some people in that place gave off horrible vibes.

  She said, “Oh,” and a quiet moment passed. “I heard that more teachers would be out. They often are, on a Friday or Monday.”

  “Why Fridays and Mondays?”

  “Listen, Gram, I’ve—”

  “You ignored me today. I didn’t like that.”