by Helen Gray
“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” her husband said after he hugged the boys and kissed her good-bye. He had a charter flight and a business meeting that would keep him gone from home overnight. This kind of thing happened more often than they would like, but not as often as when he first started his own business.
Once at school, Toni entered her classroom, anxious to get some lab preparations done.
Loaded bookshelves lined the front half of the right wall. A row of computers occupied the back half. An emergency eyewash station stood at the front of the left wall, and a multicolor DNA spiral occupied the rear. Student desks and lab tables filled the center of the room. A centrifuge and a thermal cycler, used in genetic fingerprinting exercises, sat on the counter along the back wall. An aquarium inhabited by a turtle and a lizard stood in front of the windows. Test tubes and micropipettes graced the desks.
There were seven class periods in a day. Toni’s class schedule consisted of three sections of General Biology, one of Advanced Biology, one of Forensics, and an A & P class that she taught from as much of a medical perspective as she could at a secondary level. She added units for activities to the Forensics class as new ideas evolved from workshops, conferences, or her own thoughts. Each teacher had one hour free for class preparation, errands, and meetings. Hers happened to be third hour.
The morning went quickly, getting the week off to a good start. But during lunch in the cafeteria, Toni was dismayed to hear that a vending machine had been vandalized and all the money and snack items taken from it.
“What’s happening around here?” John asked, echoing her thoughts. Apparently more of the teachers seated at their table felt the same, judging by their looks of consternation.
Ken Douglas, who had related this most recent incident, shook his head in a weary gesture. “I don’t know, but vandalism has increased to the point that we think we need the police to help us. We think someone’s instigating this stuff, but we don’t know who.”
“Maybe older boys are bullying younger ones into doing whatever they dictate,” Toni speculated off the top of her head.
The principal’s mouth pulled back at the corners, but the result was not a smile. “I’m just asking all of you to watch for students who seem to have an abundance of money, especially among those who live in poverty, and report any signs of drug use.”
Toni didn’t like the vibes she was getting from this conversation. It was a relief when the bell rang for them to return to their classrooms.
During sixth hour, she stood next to an anatomical model of a human skull on a stand to address her A & P students. “Let’s start our study of the skull bones with the only movable one in it, the mandible.” She ran the fingers of her right hand over it. “After I’ve identified each bone, I’d like each of you to trace the outline of it.”
After they discussed the mandible, she moved on to the nasal bone, and then the parietal bone. When she ran her fingers over the occipital bone in the back of the head, that area of her own head experienced phantom pain at the memory of the blow she had so recently experienced in that area. The sensation was so strong she closed her eyes, reliving the attack.
“Are you okay, Mrs. Donovan?”
Toni jerked her eyes open and took a deep, steadying breath. “I’m fine, Natalie. I was just a little dizzy for a moment. Thank you for your concern.” She smiled at the student and resumed her demonstration.
After school she headed to the van. They boys trailed after her, Gabe lugging his trombone case, and Garrett his saxophone. Toni was glad the band director was cracking down on lack of practice, insisting that students take their instruments home. Gabe had been playing long enough that his practicing didn’t hurt her ears too much. This was only Garrett’s second year of band, and he still produced some ear-drum-splitting shrieks at times, although not nearly as bad as last year.
They plunked the cases in the back of the van and bounced into their seats. Today Garrett was riding up front beside her.
“Since Dad’s not coming home tonight, why don’t we pick up take-outs from the restaurant?” he asked, dimpling at her.
Toni started the van. “That sounds like a good idea.” She didn’t tell him she had planned to make his favorite casserole.
By the time the boys were in bed that night, their bedroom door tightly closed, Toni was exhausted. She took a shower, crawled into bed, and had started to drift asleep when the sound of a passing vehicle caught her attention. As her eyes opened, lights flashed past the house, visible through the light colored curtains.
This was a small subdivision—if only one street qualified it as a subdivision—so whoever was out there this late had to be looking for a particular house.
Curious, and growing uneasy, Toni slipped out of bed and went to the window. She eased a narrow opening between the curtain and the window and peered outside. She could barely make out the shape of a car parked up the road. She thought it was dark colored, but she couldn’t tell if there was a driver inside it, or see the license plate.
She wasn’t sure why, but her body tensed. She backed away and slipped into her robe. Then she hurried to the living room and peeked out from behind the drapes, hoping to get a better view. As she did, she spotted a dark image moving across the side of her yard and heading around the end of the house.
In growing alarm, Toni sprinted back to her bedroom where she had left the cell phone next to a small flashlight on the bedside table. Wishing Kyle were home, she grabbed the items, turned, and swallowed a gasp as she heard a scraping sound at the door that opened onto the back deck. The prowler was trying to get inside.
She snapped the flashlight on and shined it on the phone. With trembling fingers she located and dialed her dad’s cell phone number. As it rang, she padded at a run back down the hall. At the living room she detected the sound of metal on metal. The lock on the door was being picked. Alarm turned to full blown panic.
“Hello.”
“Dad, it’s Toni,” she whispered urgently. “Kyle’s not at home, and someone’s trying to get into our house.”
“Be right there.”
Her dad was a retired trooper and still able bodied, but she couldn’t wait for him. The intruder could get in at any moment. She shoved the phone in her robe pocket and raced to the den. The first thing that caught her eye was an extension cord that one of the boys had left on the desk. She grabbed it, folding it in half as she raced back toward the living room. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it could wield a strong lash. Just as she reached the room, the door clicked and eased open.
Chapter 6
In a burst of adrenalin, Toni simultaneously hit the light switch, flooding the room with light, and lunged forward, swinging the extension cord at the cap covered head of her uninvited guest.
His hands went over his head protectively, and he backed up, apparently too startled to use the gun she spied in his hand.
Suddenly headlights glimmered through the open doorway from across the field beyond, moving toward the turnoff to the subdivision. The intruder ducked and backed away as she continued swinging the wire cord at him. Then he turned and fled out the door.
Toni darted after him, but stumbled when her foot hit the edge of the deck at an awkward angle. She grabbed the post and righted herself, but by that time the intruder had rounded the corner of the house and disappeared from sight.
A motor roared up the street. Then the approaching vehicle skidded to a stop. Moments later her dad came running around the end of the house opposite from the one where the intruder had gone. “What happened?” he demanded. “Where is he?”
Toni pointed to her left. “He went that way.”
Together they ran to the front of the house. Suddenly headlights beamed from up the street where she had seen a car in the darkness. Then the motor roared to life, and the vehicle shot into motion.
“He’s getting away,” she yelled as it peeled tires and careened up the street.
Russell made a sound of disgus
t and ran back to his truck. By the time he got it turned around and drove after the fleeing car, it had a huge lead. Toni watched taillights turn onto the main road, speed up again, and then grow dim and fade into the distance. As she stood watching, not sure what to do, the flashing lights of a police car appeared, moving toward the fleeing car and her dad’s pursuit truck from the opposite direction. It stopped, did a U-turn in the ditch, and went after the fleeing car. Another police car appeared, but this one continued toward the house rather than stopping.
It entered the subdivision and turned into her driveway. Chief of Police Buck Freeman emerged and strode to her. “We got a call about an intruder here.”
Toni should have expected that her dad would have called Buck while on his way here. She stepped onto the patio, turned on the porch light and pushed the door closed, hoping the boys would not wake. They were sound sleepers, and extremely tired. Since they hadn’t been disturbed so far, she might possibly get through this without rousing them.
“I startled the guy and hit him with an extension cord. He ran to his car and got away. Dad went after him.”
Buck nodded, an ever so slight tug at the corners of his mouth as he eyed the cord in her hand. “I met them. But I wanted to be sure you’re okay.”
Using the transmitter on his shoulder, he relayed information to whoever was on duty at the police station, and then returned his attention to her. “Can you describe the intruder, tell me what he drove?”
“The car was dark colored and older. That’s all I could see. I think it was the same guy who jumped me on the school parking lot. Same build. Same height. I get the feeling he’s not used to this kind of thing.”
Buck tipped his head. “Why?”
“He scared too quickly. I startled him when I turned on the lights and started swinging this at him.” She raised her hand that held the cord.
“Quite a weapon you got there,” he said dryly.
Toni ignored his amused sarcasm. “Mrs. Adams scared him when she caught him during that attack on the school parking lot. I think he’s jumpy, on edge.”
The chief’s bushy white eyebrows drew together in a frown. “What do you think he’s after?”
Toni shook her head. “I’m clueless. But it’s not robbery.”
Buck’s face registered surprise in the glow of the porch light. “You think his purpose is to hurt you?”
Jake’s murder came to mind. “I get the gut feeling he wants to shut me up. Permanently.”
“Why?”
“For some reason he thinks I know he killed Jake and can identify him. But I don’t. I can’t.” The last was uttered in sheer frustration.
In the distance, the lights of Russell’s truck appeared, returning to the subdivision. Buck waited with her, and walked with her across the yard to meet Russell when he pulled alongside the edge of the lawn.
“He got away,” her dad reported as he emerged from the truck. “I lost him at the other end of town. He could be halfway to the lake by now, or heading toward Poplar Bluff. Either way, I suspect he’ll turn around and come back to town as soon as he’s sure it’s safe.”
Buck nodded. “You think he’s local. Can you describe the car?”
“It was either black or dark blue or green, an older model Camry. It was dark here in the subdivision, and he got too much of a lead for me to get more than a glimpse of the license plate. I think the first three digits were LX2. It’s a good thing it’s late. He drove through town like a banshee. If there had been any traffic, he would have run the stop light and caused no telling what kind of accidents.”
Buck jotted something in his little notebook.
Russell’s attention shifted to Toni. “Are you all right, Quizzy?” His use of her childhood nickname was gruffly endearing.
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
“She played cowgirl with that extension cord,” Buck informed his old pal. Then his half grin disappeared, and he spoke to Toni again. “Lock your doors, and call if you have any more trouble.”
“I will. Thanks for coming,” she said politely.
“I’ll keep my eyes open for a car matching that description.” With that he returned to his cruiser and left.
Russell gave her a measuring look. “Will you call someone to come and stay with you? I know your mother would if you ask her. Or I will.”
Toni shook her head. “That’s not necessary. The guy’s too scared to come back tonight. I’ll lock everything up extra tight, and leave the back porch light on,” she added as an assurance.
Her dad stood studying her in his cop-like stare for what seemed forever. Then he heaved a father-like sigh of resignation. “All right, but keep your cell phone at your side. If you hear or see anything suspicious, don’t waste a second calling.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “I will, Daddy. Thanks for coming so quickly.”
Sleep was slow in coming, but Toni finally fell into a restless slumber. She woke the next morning at her usual time and started to get up, but flinched from stiff muscles. She eased out of bed and went to the bathroom for a couple of muscle relaxers. After downing them, she started to the kitchen, but a thread of caution made her go peek out at the road from behind the curtains to be sure no car had returned. Seeing nothing, she breathed easier and went to fix breakfast.
When the boys were seated at the table, Gabe said the blessing and reached for a slice of toast. But Garrett sat silent, his face solemn.
“What’s wrong, Son?” Toni asked.
He shook his head back and forth, as if puzzled, or just uncertain. “I dreamed last night,” he said slowly.
Toni stared at her youngest son, her body going tense. “What did you dream?”
He frowned “It was confusing. There were two dreams, and they got all tangled together. I saw handwriting on a wall, but I couldn’t read it.”
“Your Sunday School lesson last week was about Joseph,” she reminded him.
“That’s right,” Gabe said. “We talked a lot about the writing on the wall that the king couldn’t read, but Joseph could.”
Garrett’s expression cleared somewhat. “Yeah, that was a good lesson. That must be what I was dreaming about.” He paused a moment, and frowned again. “Then the dream changed, and I saw this car. But the key wasn’t in it.”
Now Toni frowned. “So what was it doing?”
“It roared.”
“That’s all?”
“Uh huh.” He reached for his toast.
Garrett’s dreams troubled Toni. It was perfectly normal for little boys to dream. What wasn’t normal was the uncanny connection some of her youngest son’s dreams had made to some real events. All she could connect of this latest revelation was that his sleep had been disturbed by the car of last night’s prowler roaring away.
“Do you guys want to wait for me while I attend a faculty meeting this afternoon, or ride the bus to Grandpa’s after school?”
“Grandpa’s,” they chimed without hesitation. Grandma was working a full shift at the clinic today, but Grandpa loved having what he called his little troopers any time he could get them.
“I’ll call him.”
After breakfast she made the call and hurried to get ready for school.
That afternoon Toni entered the school library for the regular monthly faculty meeting, and the feeling she got when she saw their principal’s rigid expression was that this would not be as hum drum as most regular meetings tended to be.
“As I’m sure you’re aware,” Ken Douglas said when routine orders of business had been dealt with and new business announced, “we’ve had an inordinate amount of vandalism throughout the district in the time we’ve been in session this fall. Before we go any further, I want to emphasize that this subject is being addressed in the junior high, middle school, and elementary as well as here.”
He cleared his throat. “I attended a conference on student gangs, and I want to share some of what I learned. We were given some insight int
o what our administrators have come to fear is happening in our district.”
“We tend to associate gangs only with large cities,” he continued. “But they’re spreading to suburbs and smaller cities. Under pressure from police and rival gangs, they’re seeking new territories.”
As he spoke, Toni heard some smothered gasps and noted expressions of horror and disbelief flashing across faces.
“You’re probably thinking this isn’t possible in our small town, but the other two principals and I have met with our superintendent, and we agree that some of the incidents we’ve experienced recently have a gang-like appearance.”
A hand shot upward.
“Yes, Dorothy.”
“Why is this happening?” the wide-eyed teacher asked.
“According to the instructors, gangs occur in schools for many reasons, but the main attraction students have for gangs is that they offer kids status, acceptance, and self-esteem they haven’t found elsewhere. Financial gain is a powerful motive as well, but only a few adult gang members make large sums of money. They know that courts treat juveniles far more leniently than adults, so they use juveniles and hide behind them.”
Toni raised her hand. “Does that mean adults are behind whatever’s going on here?”
Ken grimaced. “We’re afraid that’s a strong possibility. We’ve had a high rate of transfer students this year. If that is truly what’s happening, the older ones could have gang familiarity and be leaders, but there could be an adult or two in charge.”
“What should we do?” someone asked without raising a hand.
“Keep your eyes open,” he responded instantly. “Watch students for signs that they’re involved in a gang. Those signs include having unexplained money or items, wearing similar clothing, like baseball caps worn backward, and usually a dark color, using special hand signs or special slang words, worsening attitudes, and heaven forbid, carrying weapons.”
