The Connection (The Claudia Belle Series Book 3)

by C. S Luis

  “For convincing Michael to check him out,” she said with a beautiful smile; it was making me helpless.

  “I only have one question,” I said; she curiously blinked up at me. I liked the way she did that. Her eyes were so full and innocent. “Why weren’t you able to read his mind?” I boldly asked her, and she blushed and lowered her gaze and turned her head sideways, biting down at the beautiful lip again. Perhaps she had asked herself the same question.

  “I did,” she suddenly said. “But I couldn’t find anything.” She looked up at me; I was lost in her eyes for a moment. I cleared my throat and looked at my watch. It was now half past nine. Where had the morning gone?

  “So,” Claudia said very nonchalantly; she seemed to be growing comfortable with me, and it made me feel good. “What should I do?” She asked.

  At that moment Mrs. Wallace appeared at the entrance, carrying a few copies in her hands. Great, more interruptions.

  “Well, here are the rest of the copies. I’ve already given a few to Mr. Claypool and Mr. Vasquez. They’re out distributing them to the teachers. Of course we can always have Mr. Thomas and Sam distribute the rest,” she suggested.

  Claudia said, “Why can’t we just put them in the pigeonholes this morning? Usually the teachers just come to get their mail in the morning. But of course now it’s a little late.”

  I smiled, almost wanting to laugh. Mrs. Wallace rolled her eyes; perhaps, she wasn’t appreciative of Claudia’s little suggestion.

  “Have Mr. Thomas and Sam distribute the remaining ones,” I told Mrs. Wallace, and she nodded and walked out the door. Claudia looked confused.

  “You should have been my secretary,” I said to her. Claudia blushed, looking away, and I knew I had to control what I said to her before I scared her off again. Claudia was very shy and nervous around certain people. I had come to realize that. I liked the idea that she was feeling perhaps a bit comfortable with me now.

  “What should I do then?” She suddenly asked me while watching Mrs. Wallace disappearing out the door.

  “Have breakfast with me,” I suddenly said forgetting myself.

  Claudia blinked up at me.

  “You’re hungry. I know I am,” I said, trying very hard not to be Slater, the lady’s man I was obviously. I was instead trying to sound like someone that she could be comfortable with.

  10

  Claudia

  I admired his red tie; it looked great with the black suit he was wearing, and when he suggested breakfast, it did sound kind of nice. I suddenly felt my stomach growl at the mention of food. But I wondered where we would go.

  “What would you like?” He asked me, but I wasn’t sure. Dr. Black walked over to his desk, and I watched him as he got on his laptop. All I heard was the clicking and typing of keys. God, he was quick. He looked over at me from behind the computer and smiled when I came to stand in front of his desk.

  “Would you like a breakfast biscuit?” He asked, looking at the screen and then up at me as I stood close to the edge of his desk.

  “What does it have?” I asked as Dr. Black blinked up at me curiously. “I don’t eat red meat,” I said, and he looked surprised.

  “You don’t?”

  I shook my head. “Unless it’s turkey sausage or a chicken biscuit,” I said.

  Dr. Black laughed, “Well, looks like that’s all they have.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, sounding a bit disappointed.

  “No, no wait,” he again said. “What about hash browns? You do eat potatoes, right?” Dr. Black asked, sounding slightly silly. I laughed and nodded.

  He smiled back. “I can get you that and maybe some orange juice? Oh here, they have blueberry muffins. Would you like one of those?” He asked with a smile.

  “Okay,” I said. Dr. Black clicked a few keys and sat back, closing the laptop.

  “Well, it’s out there,” Dr. Black, said grinning. “Now we just wait.” He smiled and stared at me for a long time.

  “So,” I said, hoping to end the awkward silence. “What time is school letting out? Don’t you have to make an announcement?” I asked him. Dr. Black blinked and then quickly rose, grinning and hitting the top of his head.

  “I told you that you should have been my secretary,” Dr. Black again said to me, walking to the entrance of his office and stepping over to Mrs. Wallace’s desk. She was now behind her desk, typing away at an old typewriter. She was old-fashioned. She had her computer at the end of the desk but liked or perhaps felt more comfortable on the old machine. I walked out with Dr. Black, dropping my school bag beside a chair near Mrs. Wallace’s desk.

  “Mrs. Wallace, can you watch my bag while I’m gone?” I asked.

  “Sure, dear,” she kindly said, never stopping her typing.

  Dr. Black stood at the other end, lifting the intercom to his lips; he stopped when he saw me walking towards the door.

  “Don’t forget we have breakfast arriving in twenty minutes,” Dr. Black said to me as I glanced back at him.

  “I haven’t,” I politely said. “I just have to run to the lady’s restroom.” I blushed slightly, and Dr. Black curved a smile and then winked.

  “Just making sure,” he again said as I stepped out into the hallway.

  11

  Dr. John Black

  As I watched Claudia walk out, I took a deep breath. Already knowing what I was going to say, I pressed the button on the intercom and said, “Attention students and faculty: as some of you may have been aware, we have a sinkhole in the parking lot, and because of this unexpected event and for the safety of staff and students, I have no choice but to close the school down until we have more information regarding this problem.”

  Was it me or was I hearing cheering in the hallway?

  “Letters have been sent to each homeroom teacher to take home to your parents regarding this closure. Because Milton will be closing down until the issue is resolved I have also made arrangements with Principal Dr. Robertson from Harold James High School to take our students until further notice. Buses will pick up students from the same routes, and they are instructed to drop off and pick up students to and from Harold James; instructions are on the letter. Please discuss this with your parents, and if there are any questions or if they wish to contact me they are welcome to do so, and I will be happy to answer any further questions. To the staff: if you have questions regarding whether or not to come in, I have prepared a separate letter with instructions to be placed in your pigeonhole, but as always, you are also welcome to come see me if you have further questions.”

  I hated to say that because I just had this nerving feeling I was going to see a lot of unhappy teachers as well as receive a lot of calls from parents on what to do despite the fact that the instructions were clearly on the letter.

  I looked at my watch; it was now ten. “So in regards to the events of today, I’m allowing school out at half past ten. Thank you.”

  I put the intercom down and let the information sink in.

  Mrs. Wallace finished the letter for the teachers and staff. I glanced over it and instructed her to put one in each teacher’s pigeonhole, and she did. I walked back into my office, glancing back at Claudia’s bag. She’d be back. I took a seat behind my desk. A few minutes passed, and I heard Mrs. Wallace again.

  “Dr. Black, you have a delivery,” Mrs. Wallace said, coming into the office. There was a young man with her, and he had a bag in one hand and two drinks in the other.

  Our breakfast had come more quickly than I’d expected it to. The young man came in with her and stepped past her to put the bag on the desk, and then he placed the drinks on the other side of it. I handled him a twenty as I checked through the bag.

  Everything was in order, and he handed me the change back, but I told him to keep it. He thanked me and walked out the door.

  Mrs. Wallace looked over the items briefly, slowly walking out the door. I called her back, and she very slowly turned around to me.

  “Alice, h
ere you go. I got you a little something. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

  She looked thankful and put a hand on her chest, and slightly her mouth dropped.

  “Oh, Dr. Black, you didn’t have to, but thank you, Sir. I love their breakfast sandwiches,” she said, taking the sandwich and hash brown I had ordered for her. As she walked out the door I wondered if Claudia would return. I didn’t want her breakfast to get cold.

  Above the bell rang suddenly as I looked at my clock; time was sure in a hurry. It was now half past ten, and I heard the rush of students in the hallway cheering as they emptied the school.

  I pulled the lid off of the coffee cup, which was black with no sugar or cream, just how I liked it. Michael entered my office; he looked troubled almost, or in shock, dropping on the seat facing my desk before I could offer it.

  “Michael?” I asked, putting the coffee down. He blinked up at me.

  “Michael, is everything okay?” He looked up as if he was seeing me for the first time.

  “Where’s Claudia?” He asked me, looking around my office for her.

  “She stepped out to the lady’s restroom. Is everything okay? Did you talk to Mr. West?” I again asked, examining him as he finally looked up at me.

  “Yes, I spoke with him,” he simply said.

  “Well?”

  To be honest, I didn’t except to hear much of anything; perhaps I’d hear that yes, this stranger was nothing but a creep and that perhaps Mr. West had broken one or two laws. And I was ready to offer Michael some much-needed legal advice.

  “It’s true…all of it,” Michael said, offering nothing else. I had to again ask what he meant.

  “True? What’s true?” I asked, picking up the cup of coffee, which was still too hot for me to fully drink.

  “The man from today,” he began. “He’s Claudia’s uncle.” There was sadness in his eyes, like he had just lost her to someone else. I suddenly felt the same myself. But I didn’t believe his claims even if he had heard it from an attorney. I had my doubts for many reasons, but mostly because I didn’t like the man upon first meeting him. Something didn’t feel right, and John Slater was usually right about vibes, like a sixth sense.

  I shook my head at him, and he looked up at me.

  “It’s true,” he again said; he was a believer.

  “How?” I doubtfully asked. “Just because some attorney said so?”

  “No,” Michael whispered, looking down at his hands like they were foreign things to him.

  “Then?” I asked. “Did he show some papers or documents to prove his claims?” Not that it mattered; anyone could forge documents. I forged them all the time.

  “Yes,” Michael whispered. “And… letters.”

  “Letters?” I asked, frowning back at him.

  “A letter from Neil,” Michael again said. “They were corresponding back and forth.”

  I rose and stood over him. “So what’s this creep say? That he has letters from Dr. Edwards that what prove what?” I asked, raising my voice and walking over to the windows of my office with my hands over my hips, watching the kids scatter in the front of school.

  “It’s not what he said,” Michael again said, looking up at me as I turned back around and faced him. He looked extremely sad.

  “Then what does he claim now?” I again asked, coming over to my desk and lifting the cup of coffee to my lips. I looked over Claudia’s breakfast, knowing it was getting cold. I was beginning to worry she had been gone too long, especially with the Retrieval Team outside doing their snooping.

  “It was Neil; it was he who found him. It was Neil who wrote the letters and found him, Isabella’s brother.”

  I knew the story quite well, even as Michael was trying to explain it to me. I already knew from reading the notes Bryce had sent me of Claudia’s family. Isabella, Claudia’s mother, had a brother. That much was true.

  “It seems Isabella’s mother died at childbirth while giving birth to fraternal twins, Isabella and Christian. There’s no record of their father. They were put up for adoption and separated; one family adopted Isabella while another adopted her brother Christian,” Michael said with a shocking tone in his voice.

  “According to Neil’s notes, Christian had joined the military at eighteen, straight out of high school, and he was shipped to Iraq when the war began years later. He was presumed dead. Neil never mentioned this to me. I never knew until now. I guess he didn’t tell me everything.” Michael sounded betrayed as he continued.

  The Company had very little information about him; at least, that’s what I had received from Bryce. I now sensed there was more to the story.

  “He had school records and the family name of Vega, but there was nothing else regarding the adopted family.”

  According to The Company records, Christian Vega was deceased.

  “I don’t think Isabella ever knew him, and if she did, she never shared it with her family.”

  How did Dr. Edwards know then? I didn’t believe he was alive. I didn’t believe one word of it.

  “It’s him,” Michael whispered. “I’ve seen Christian’s picture, and he looks just like him. There’s no doubt about it.” But I could see the doubt in his eyes. I wrinkled an eye; the man hardly looked like the picture.

  Michael seemed to be going through a possible struggle of his own, just like Claudia had. And just like Claudia, he wanted to believe it.

  “Picture?” I asked. Even The Company had high school photographs of Christian; he was a skinny kid with very dark hair and piercing dark eyes in high school, like Claudia. It said in the notes that the last-known pictures of Christian were the few of him in uniform as a grown man, muscular and vigorous. It appeared Michael only had high school pictures perhaps to make the connection.

  “I found Neil’s notes. I found old photographs. I don’t know how he found this information, how he knew, but he found him, and he was comparing photographs he had with those now.”

  Had Dr. Edwards been doing some investigating of his own? Had he discovered something that troubled him enough to find himself comparing old photographs with those of the present? I was starting to wonder too. I was starting to wonder whether there was more I had missed. I had only brief information, basic information regarding Claudia. I wondered if there was any current activity on Christian Vega I could get my hands on.

  “I’ve invited him over for dinner,” Michael suddenly said. “I want Claudia to get to know him.”

  “What? I don’t think that’s a good idea Michael. What do you know about this guy?” I asked, standing over him.

  He immediately looked up at me. “I know he’s Claudia’s uncle,” he growled at me, rising to his feet. “And I’m her guardian. I get to say what’s best for her.”

  I was speechless for a moment, until he became calm and almost apologetic. Perhaps I had crossed the line. He was right; he was her guardian. But I cared about her more than I dare admit now, and I wanted nothing bad to happen to her.

  Michael glared at me and lowered his voice and then said, “She has to know him.”

  “Know who?” A voice said from the entrance; we both turned, and Claudia was standing there at my office doorway.

  12

  Claudia

  Claudia

  _______________________

  * * *

  I walked into the hallway; it was quiet, and the hallways were dim like every morning. And as I walked down that long corridor to the end where the cafeteria was and around the corner to the restroom, I thought about Dr. Black. Perhaps he wasn’t such a bad guy. He was something else, I thought, funny and, well, maybe a little misunderstood.

  I thought of how he had stood in front of me, blocking the stranger that had come into the office claiming to be my uncle. I thought of how he had stood between us so protectively. But it was the stranger that now I thought about, the stranger who claimed to be my uncle, and I wondered whether perhaps he was my uncle, and if so, was he one of the things my grandfather had
meant to reveal to me?

  Oh God, why didn’t I listen to him when he was alive? Why didn’t I listen?

  I came around the corner. Above me I heard Dr. Black’s voice over the intercom, and I realized he was making his announcement to the entire school. He sounded so professional. His voice was charming and handsome, if that could even be said about a voice. I think if I hadn’t known him or had never seen him before I would have thought he had a handsome voice.

  He had that kind of voice that was strong and yet soft and tender. There was something about it, something that demanded attention, because that’s what it sounded like when he spoke, like he was demanding the floor. And that’s how it sounded now: demanding and forthcoming. He had that strong boldness about him, the demanding persona. Could it be maybe that’s why I felt nervous and uneasy when around him? Because he had that demanding persona, and I wasn’t anything like that. I was shy and a wreck around people. Perhaps, I thought, he seemed to have it all figured out because he was an adult, and adults were supposed to have it all figured out.

  I went into the bathroom and after finishing my business and washing my hands I came out. I stopped by the bathroom entrance, turning as I heard someone whisper. When I turned I noticed a face poking out of the cafeteria side door; it was Alex. She ducked when she caught me looking back at her, and then she came back out and waved me over. She came up again and waved to me from the other end of the door.

  I looked around and immediately raced to the cafeteria side entrance; she grabbed me and pulled me in. I nearly fell against her and almost screamed as Alex put her hand over my mouth. I pulled away.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, scared out of my wits but relieved it was only her.

  “Hiding,” she simply said. Obviously, I thought, feeling slightly guilty when I realized I already knew why. Or did I?