Holding Off for a Hero

by Gail MacMillan

  She tried the door. Locked as she’d left it. She inserted the key, turned it and opened the door, and stepped apprehensively inside. During her drive back to Loon Lake, she’d grown more and more suspicious of the man who’d identified himself as a forest ranger. She’d trusted him on his uniform alone and hadn’t asked for ID. Not a wise move. Anyone could fake or steal one of those getups. The more she thought about it, the more implausible the rabid bear story had become.

  Gingerly she began to inspect the cabin for signs of anyone having been inside. The door might have been locked, but she knew keys could be stolen, copied, and used. She’d never been overly careful with hers, not even around the school.

  Just when she was feeling reassured that everything was in order and that she’d been paranoid, she saw it. Her stack of CDs weren’t in the same place. Thinking about fingerprints, she went into her bedroom, took out a pair of gloves, pulled them on, and examined the collection.

  She searched through them, trying to handle the cases as little as possible. A third of the way through, she stopped, puzzled. She flipped through the CDs again, this time looking for something specific. They definitely weren’t there…her two CDs by The Sound.

  Puzzled, and with an eerie feeling of having had her personal space violated, she sat down beside the stereo, an unpleasant quiver invading her stomach. She remembered the Goldilocks fairy tale. She arose and tiptoed toward the bedrooms and was relived to see whoever he or they had been, they weren’t sleeping in either of her beds.

  She pulled her cell from her pocket and started to dial Frasier’s number. Then she paused. What if he’d taken her CDs? He’d made it clear he didn’t want any reminders of his days with the band.

  She dropped the cell onto the coffee table and went to let the dogs out of the car. She would allow them only a quick run before shutting them up in the cabin with her, just in case that ranger had been genuine and there really was a very sick bear wandering around nearby.

  ****

  Frasier found his mind wandering in the meetings that weekend as he waited for his cell to vibrate against his hip. Several times the Professor had to bring him back to the moment with a sharp remark. He was relieved when the conference ended on Monday morning and he could head back to Loon Lake.

  He was passing through Carleton when his phone finally did ring. He pulled into the supermarket parking lot and answered.

  “Frasier?” Emma’s voice. “Where are you?”

  “In Carleton. Are you okay?”

  “Yes…well, sort of. Will you drop by the high school? It’s important. I’ll explain when you get here.”

  ****

  Ten minutes later, Frasier entered the principal’s office at the high school. Emma and Jesse Jones occupied chairs in front a big man seated behind a cluttered walnut desk. The expressions on all three faces were grim.

  “Frasier.” The relief in Emma’s voice told him something serious was underway. She got up quickly and went to draw him into the room, toward the desk and the man behind it.

  “Frasier, this is our principal, Thomas Pentland. Mr. Pentland, this is Frasier MacKenzie, the man I was telling you about. He’s my neighbor up at Loon Lake, a biologist working on a research project for the University of New Brunswick.”

  “Professor MacKenzie, good of you to come.” The man arose and extended a hand.

  “Associate Professor.” Frasier modified the title as he shook hands. “No problem, Mr. Pentland. I was passing through town when Emma—Miss Prescott—called. What’s this all about?”

  “Take a seat.” The principal indicated a third chair in front of his desk and sat down again as Frasier accepted his offer.

  “Now.” The principal steepled his fingers. He was a tall, balding man with broad shoulders and a protruding belly. A former athlete losing muscle tone, Frasier decided. “Some serious charges have been laid. Miss Prescott believes you may be able to shed some light on them.”

  “Certainly, if I can.” Frasier glanced over at Emma. Her expression reflected tension and distress.

  “Miss Prescott claims she gave Jesse here two thousand dollars in cash to purchase sports equipment for the school. Jesse says the only money Miss Prescott gave him was a couple of hundred to purchase marijuana for a bachelorette party she hosted up at her cabin. Which story can you support?”

  The accusations hit Frasier like hailstones. He glanced from the apparently complacent principal to the sneering teenager to Emma. Suddenly he knew how Jesse had gotten Penny released. Aside from agreeing to keep his mouth shut, he’d handed over Emma’s two thousand dollars.

  “First, let me say the charge against Miss Prescott is so ridiculous as to defy addressing.” He drew himself up in his chair and spoke with authority. “I saw Emma…Miss Prescott…give this young man a thick roll of bills on October fourth when I came to pick her up for lunch. As I opened her office door, I overheard her explaining to him that he was to purchase sports equipment with it, that she and the students had worked hard to raise the cash, that he was to get the best deals possible, and bring back receipts. I don’t know the exact amount, but from the size of the roll, it could easily have been two thousand dollars in twenties.”

  “What do you say to that, Jesse?” The principal looked calmly over at the teenager, but his hazel eyes behind steel-rimmed glasses were penetrating.

  “He’s lyin’.” Jesse stared at the floor. “He’s playin’ house with her up at the lake. He’d say anything not to lose his main squeeze. Hey, he even tried to buy a few joints off me at the dance last Friday night, and then threw me out when I said I didn’t have any.”

  “Jesse!” His name was a shocked gasp from Emma. “You know very well Mr. MacKenzie did no such thing!”

  “I have to believe Miss Prescott and Mr. MacKenzie, Jesse.” The principal drew himself up in his chair with a sigh. “I can’t envision an associate professor from the University of New Brunswick attempting to buy drugs from a student at a high school dance. I also believe Miss Prescott gave you a substantial sum of money to purchase sports supplies. What you did with it I have no idea. Therefore, I see no other solution than to suspend you. I’ll discuss the duration with the superintendent.”

  “Great! Just great! This place sucks anyway!” Jesse flung back his chair as he bolted to his feet. “Happy hunting! You’ll never find proof that I did anything wrong! It’s them who should be gettin’ the boot! She had a big drug party up at her cabin last month! She even had a male stripper…just ask her!”

  He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

  “Well.” Principal Pentland drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “I wonder how many more crashes that poor old door can weather.”

  A twinkle brightened the man’s eyes.

  “Quite a party, was it, Emma?” Thomas Pentland stretched as he sucked in a deep breath. “Gave Mandy a proper sendoff, did you? Good. She’s a fine teacher who works hard and deserves some fun. By the way, my wife enjoyed the shindig immensely. She needed a night away from the kids. She described Mr. Roc Hard and his performance in some detail, but I can’t recall her mentioning any pot being involved.”

  He grinned over at Frasier. Associate Professor MacKenzie relaxed and grinned in return. But how did Jesse know about the stripper, he wondered, unless the drug dealers, those peeping toms, and the kids at the school were somehow connected.

  “If there’s nothing more, I’ll be going.” Frasier stood. “I’ve been away for a couple of days. I’d like to get home.”

  “Of course. Thanks for coming in.” Thomas Pentland got up and extended his hand. “I knew Jesse’s accusations were false, but I had to give him a hearing. I only wish Emma and I could come up with a solution to that boy’s problems. We’ll meet with the superintendent this afternoon, Emma, and get his opinion. Wish us luck, Associate Professor MacKenzie.”

  ****

  “Emma, check and see if Penny is in class.” Frasier caught her by the arm after they’d left the
principal’s office. “That kid was definitely under duress.”

  She nodded and hurried away.

  Five minutes later she was back.

  “She’s in class, but she’s white as death. Maybe they threatened to abduct her again if Jesse didn’t do as they instructed.”

  “Keep an eye on her, but I’m sure she’ll be okay. Jesse obviously did exactly as he was told.”

  “Oh, Frasier, those poor kids! What a mess they’re in.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ve got us on their side. Now what about Scout and the Pug? Do I pick them up at Doggie Day Care?”

  “No, they’re both in my cabin up at the lake. You said you’d be home this morning.”

  “Fine. I’ll head up there and let them out for a run. Thanks for looking after my boy while I was away.”

  “Frasier, don’t try to con me. You left Scout with me as protection.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I appreciate your caring. Really I do. Maybe you were right to be concerned. A curious thing happened up at the lake while you were gone. I’ll tell you all about it tonight.”

  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried off down the corridor.

  What had gone on in his absence? Had the professor made a not-too-subtle attempt to get rid of Emma on his own?

  ****

  Frasier waited in his SUV until he thought Emma had had time to return to her office. Then he got out and went back into the school.

  “May I see Principal Pentland?” he asked the secretary.

  “Just a minute, I’ll check.” He could see she was puzzled as she went to the door behind her desk, knocked, then stepped inside, closing it after her.

  Wondering why I’m back so soon, I guess.

  She emerged from the inner office. “You can go right in, Mr. MacKenzie.”

  “Thank you.” Frasier furnished her with a smile. She blushed and lowered her gaze.

  He wished he had that effect on Emma Prescott.

  “Associate Professor MacKenzie.” Thomas Pentland indicated a chair in front of his desk. “Didn’t expect you back so soon. What can I do for you?”

  “What do you know about the fire at Emma’s apartment last month?” he asked, taking the proffered seat.

  “Not much, but the fire marshal did say it was of a suspicious nature. His findings were in the local newspaper. Emma chose to ignore the implications. She’s a trusting young woman, as you no doubt have come to understand.” He spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. “Don’t get me wrong. I admire trusting people. I just wish Emma would be a little less so, with some of these students.”

  “So you think maybe Todd Stoddart or some of his drug-involved friends might have torched Emma’s apartment?”

  “That’s too serious an accusation to make without sufficient proof, but, between you and me, I believe it’s highly possible. I was relieved when Emma chose to move out to Loon Lake. At least there she’s far enough away to keep most of that crowd from bothering her on a regular basis.” He looked over at Frasier, and his lips tightened. “Frasier, I’d be grateful if you’d keep an eye on Emma. She’s a special woman, not to mention a good friend to both my wife and myself. We worry about her.”

  “No problem. I’ve been trying to do just that, but she doesn’t make it easy. She’s like a butterfly, never staying put very long.” Frasier arose to leave.

  “And just as pretty?” Thomas Pentland looked over at him, his eyes twinkling.

  “And just as pretty.” Frasier grinned over at him and extended his hand. “I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe…short of putting her in a cage.”

  ****

  “Mr. MacKenzie?” A tall, thin man wearing thick glasses and clutching an armful of books stopped him when he stepped out into the corridor. The books were held tight with one arm against a sweater vest worn over a white shirt while the other hand nervously smoothed wisps back from the man’s receding hairline.

  “Yes?” Frasier paused.

  “I’d like to talk to you…about Emma.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his thin neck. “We could go to the cafeteria. It should be empty just now.”

  “I don’t know that we should be discussing the lady.” Frasier had to stifle his desire to learn more about Emma. It wouldn’t make him appear much of a gentleman if he appeared too eager to gossip about her. But he did want to hear what this man had to say.

  “Please. It involves her safety. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Brandon Worth, one of the English literature teachers here at Carleton High. Emma and I have been…colleagues for several years.”

  “Very well, Mr. Worth. Lead the way.”

  When they were seated in the deserted cafeteria, Brandon Worth deposited his books on the table between them, took off his glasses, and began to polish them.

  “Mr. Worth, if this interview is making you nervous…” Frasier had to make the opening statement.

  “Yes, yes, it is, but I feel I’d be less than fair to Emma if I didn’t talk to you. She’s a wonderful woman, Mr. MacKenzie…or is it Associate Professor MacKenzie?”

  “ ‘Frasier’ will do just fine. Please. Continue.”

  “Well, Emma and I have been friends for several years. Just friends, mind you. She’s much too wonderful to be romantically involved with me. She and I share an enjoyment of the romantic poets. Sometimes, when we both had a few spare minutes, we’d come down here when the room was empty, and I’d read to her.” He hesitated, then continued, looking down at his hands and blushing, “Believe it or not, I do read poetry rather well. At least Emma said so.”

  “I believe you must. Emma isn’t a lady who throws around false compliments.”

  “No, she isn’t.” He paused, a wistful smile drifting over his features.

  “You said you wanted to talk to me about something involving her safety.” Frasier brought him out of his reverie. He understood how a man could easily get lost in thoughts of Emma Prescott.

  “Ah, yes.” Brandon Worth blinked and looked over at Frasier. “Getting back to the business at hand. Emma is a really good woman. She works hard here at the school trying to help troubled students, some of whom, in my opinion, are well beyond anything she can do for them, no matter how much effort she puts into it or how optimistic her outlook. Worse still, some are downright dangerous.”

  “You’re referring to…?”

  “Jesse Jones and Todd Stoddart. Well, mostly Todd Stoddart. I believe he’s involved with a serious criminal element in the area, by whom Emma’s efforts to stop drugs in the school aren’t welcomed. While she was living in town, she had the police nearby in case of an incident, but way up at Loon Lake…”

  “I understand your concern, Mr. Worth. Trust me, I’ll keep a sharp eye out for any suspicious activity. I admire Emma, too, and wouldn’t want to see her come to any harm.”

  “Well, then, good.” Brandon Worth gathered up his books and stood. “Thank you, Associate Professor.”

  He started to lead the way to the door, then paused and turned back to face Frasier.

  “They call you the hermit of Loon Lake.” He looked squarely into Frasier’s eyes. “Does that mean you’ve abandoned interest in women?”

  “No, Mr. Worth, it most certainly does not. Currently my work requires that I live alone and undisturbed, but I assure you I have a healthy interest in the opposite sex.”

  “What about Emma?” He shifted his feet but didn’t lower his gaze. It’s taking all his courage to face me about her. Poor guy. He really cares. Is there a single guy on the planet who hasn’t got the hots for Emma Prescott?

  “Emma and I are friends. As I’ve told you, Mr. Worth, the nature of my work requires I remain dedicated to it.”

  “Fine.” He lowered his penetrating gaze while he readjusted his books. “You’re an attractive man, Associate Professor, and, I would venture to guess, a worldly one. You just might be the type that could seriously interest Emma. I wouldn’t want to see her hurt if you weren’t about to honor
any commitment you may have led her to believe existed.”

  “I appreciate your concern.” Frasier extended his hand. “You can feel confident I will never do anything that won’t be in her best interests. I will take special care to make certain no harm comes to her…from any quarter.”

  Brandon Worth hesitated only a moment before grasping Frasier’s hand. “Thank you, Associate Professor.” He shook it vigorously. “You’re a gentleman as well as a scholar. I feel much better now that we’ve had this talk.”

  On his way out of town, Frasier remembered a bookstore beside the sandwich shop on Main Street. He parked and went inside. When he left fifteen minutes later, he carried a volume entitled Songs and Poetry of Scotland: Robert Burns in a brown paper bag.

  Poor Brandon Worth, reading her romantic poetry when she really loved the earthier works of a Scotsman. She’d probably been too kind to tell him the difference.

  “Frasier MacKenzie?” Her voice made him turn to face a pretty redhead in jeans and a rust-colored sweater that set off large brown eyes.

  “Yes?”

  “I thought so, when I saw you get out of your SUV. I felt reasonably sure it was the one Emma told me about. I’m Mandy Cooper.” She extended her hand.

  “The lady of the antebellum wedding.” He accepted her introduction and smiled. “A pleasure, Mrs. Cooper.”

  “Just Mandy, please. Professor MacKenzie, do you have a minute? There’s a coffee bar at the back of the shop. I’d like a few words with you.”

  “Certainly.” He let her lead the way to the rear of the store. While she took a seat in a booth in a corner, he ordered two coffees.

  “Thanks.” She smiled up at him when he rejoined her. Jeff Cooper is one lucky man.

  “I want to talk to you about Emma.”

  “I guessed.” Didn’t everyone! But still another prime opportunity to learn more about the lady at Loon Lake had just fallen into his lap. “What did you want to say, Mrs. Cooper?”

  “Mandy. Well, I’ve known Emma for a very long time, ever since she and her family came down here for vacations when she was a child. She’s a wonderful person…bright, generous, funny, loving, trusting, and a whole lot more adjectives I can’t even come up with at the moment. When she’s dedicated to anything, she gives her all to it. That’s why…”