Hatred returned to the boy’s eyes. “What about him?”
“When was the last time you hung out with him?”
“Don’t hang with him anymore. Not since he moved to his grandmother’s.”
“His house got robbed a couple of months ago. You know anything about that?”
“No.” He propped his arms on the table. “Why should I?”
“It’s why you were running from me.” Bret leaned back in his chair, crossed his hands in front of him and waited. “Who helped you with the robbery? Rory?”
“You got nada on me.” His hands were trembling.
“We’ve got your prints in Diego’s house. Right, Chief?” Bret pushed.
Chief Hudson nodded from his position against the wall. “Good clear ones, too.”
“Oops. Another felony charge. You’re racking them up, Esteban.”
A muscle twitched in Esteban’s cheek, but he didn’t answer. Tom stepped away from his spot by the door and walked to the table.
“This is a waste of time,” Tom said. “How about we bring in Rory and we’ll put the two of them in a cell together for a while? One of them will talk.”
Esteban’s eyes closed, his lips firmed, his entire body tensed. Something was there, something going on between Esteban and Rory. Tom had picked up on the same thing he had.
“Or maybe we should bring in Tawni?” Bret gauged the boy’s reaction.
“You leave Tawni out of this.” The emotion in his hiss swamped the words.
Tom pulled up a chair at the table and sat. “Now how can we do that, Esteban? We know she’s in this up to her pretty neck. Tobias, Rory, you, Tawni. Who else?”
He studied the crack in the ceiling again, but his expression was less closed, less sure than it had been before.
“She doesn’t know what she’s doing.” The words seeped out, like he hadn’t intended to speak, but couldn’t help himself.
“Tawni’s in over her head with Tobias, Esteban. You know it. I know it.” Bret mentally reviewed the rap sheet he’d read on Tobias, looking for anything that he could use to inflict more doubt.
“She’s so sick of this town, of being who she is. She thinks he can get her more.”
“Can he?” Tom asked.
“Not the way she thinks.”
“We can’t help her if you don’t tell us what’s going on, Esteban. The robberies—who started it?”
The boy sat silent for several long minutes. Bret watched the emotions play over his face and just when he thought he’d have to push harder, Esteban caved. “Tobias started it. Said he was bored with country living. He said he missed L.A. and was going to generate some excitement as long as he was stuck here.”
“How did you get involved?”
“He hooked up with Tawni at school. They had economics together. She lives next door to Rory and I was hanging with Rory.”
“Anyone else?”
“Tobias’s brother Ace and another guy. I don’t know his name.”
“Who hit me? Tobias?” Bret took a shot in the dark.
“The other guy.” Esteban shifted in his chair. “My uncle came looking for me and dragged me out to his trailer to get me out of trouble. I missed a couple of robberies. We have a pact and Ace and the other guy came looking for me. So did you.”
Another shift in his chair had Bret eyeing Esteban with speculation. Something else was bugging the kid, something besides his current dilemma. His face flipped back and forth between pissed-off defiance and the need to confess something that was eating at his insides.
“How did this all start?” Bret asked.
“We were all at a party one night. Got to drinking.” Esteban hesitated, then the defiance glinted in his eyes again. “And smoked a little pot.”
Bret didn’t react. “Go on.”
“Tobias started talking about how he was bored and wanted to mix it up a little, have some fun. He suggested the first hit. Four houses, we each picked one. After that we took turns depending on who was pissed off at someone.”
That’s why they couldn’t detect a pattern. “What did you do with the stuff?”
Esteban sighed. “That was Ace’s department and the other dude.”
“Can you describe this other man?”
“Anglo. Blonde. A bit taller than Ace, but lean. Dressed good. Said it was for his job.”
“He works somewhere in town?” Bret let the description sit. It wasn’t specific enough to be helpful.
“Yeah. Salesman or something.”
“And the truck driver we apprehended?”
“He was taking the stuff to Dallas. Man, Ace was pissed. The guy got arrested with most of our few hauls. No payoff. We slowed our robberies after that. The other guy said we didn’t have an outlet to get rid of the goods until he made another trip to Dallas and got us connected.”
“Did you all participate each time?”
“Yes, we were supposed to, except for the three I missed ‘cause of my uncle.”
They say confession is good for the soul, but Esteban kept shifting in his chair, tapping his foot, as if he was waiting for something or there was more to the story.
Bret eyed him, sifting through the robbery details they knew. “Were you guys armed, prepared for trouble? Or did you watch the houses so you knew who wasn’t home?”
“Sometimes we watched. I had no weapon. Neither did Tawni. I don’t mess with that stuff. I wanted my share of the money. Wanted out of this town. Tobias carried. Rory tried to carry, too.” A scared look flashed in his eyes.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on, Esteban?”
“What?” His try for innocence failed miserably.
Bret frowned, sure he hadn’t misread him. “There’s something sticking in your throat, something else you need to tell us. Spit it out.” Bret leaned forward slightly, crowding his space.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Esteban bit his lip.
“Sure you do.”
Bret waited, watching Esteban’s face. He cracked, some internal worry the hammer.
“I don’t mess with guns.”
“Nobody said you did.”
“Tobias does. He’s hooked Rory. They’re going to get Tawni hurt.”
“How?”
Esteban bit his lip, before blowing out a big breath. “Last time we partied, Tobias talked about taking his gun to the high school and scaring a few people. Rory was on board with it. He’s been pissed at his geometry teacher, said he’d show her. I didn’t want any part of it. Tawni was too drunk to understand what they were talking about.”
Bret’s gut tightened. He looked at Tom and the chief and saw the same concern in their eyes that he was feeling.
“Rory and I argued bad, got in a fight. I quit hanging with him.”
“When was this conversation?”
“About three days ago.”
“They have a time frame for when they wanted to do this?”
“Today.” Esteban straightened in his seat. “They talked about today.”
Bret slid back his chair. The chief left the room. “When today?”
“I don’t know for sure, but probably this afternoon. That’s when Rory had his geometry class, after lunch.”
Bret rose, rounded the table, and put his hand on Esteban’s shoulder. “You did the right thing.”
Esteban dropped his head. “I don’t want Tawni to get hurt. Please don’t let Tawni get hurt.”
“We’ll try.”
Tom walked to the door and signaled Lopez who came and took the boy to the holding cell.
Bret stood for a moment and watched him walk away. For a millisecond, sheer terror froze his muscles. The need to rush out the back door and go lights blazing to the high school, run to Meg’s room and spirit her away overwhelmed him. His training finally asserted itself. He had a duty to the community and the rest of the students, too. Hard to make that a priority, though, when all he could think about was Meg and how stupid he’d bee
n. He didn’t want to lose her.
He looked over at Tom.
“I know,” Tom muttered. “But we have to prepare.”
Bret took a deep breath. They both started down the hall.
Chief Hudson came out of his office and moved toward them. “I called the high school. They’re going to lock down and do a head count. Make sure they aren’t already in the building. Dana activated the emergency call list. Every officer will be here shortly. Suit up. Vests. Lock and load. Meet in back in five minutes. We’ve drilled this. Let’s don’t become a byline on the national news tonight.”
Bret forced the emotion from his mind, from his heart, locked it down as effectively as the principal would lock down the high school. He prepared his equipment, all the while focusing on the procedure as they’d practiced it. After this was all over, he’d think about how he felt and tell Meg he was ready to try, ready for whatever she wanted.
It was a beautiful day outside. The temperature was in the upper-eighties. A month until school would be out, the major state testing was complete, and the flowers were blooming, the birds chirping. Friday was here and Meg’s students were planning their weekend and their summer vacations instead of their final essay on a book of their choosing. She couldn’t blame them. Her class had returned from lunch and still had to settle down. Of course, she wasn’t trying very hard either.
She hadn’t talked to Bret for over a week. Some was job interference on his part. Some was design on hers. She ached, every second of those days, desperate to hear his voice. But the argument about his mother and letting her into his life sat between them. Still upset, she was about to break her promise and beg him to love her, to change. So she stayed away. She believed in keeping promises. She didn’t make this one lightly, wouldn’t break it. It wasn’t her way. So she ached and tried to figure out if she could live with the pain.
The noise in her classroom increased and she forced her attention back to her lesson plan.
Rising, she motioned everyone to be seated. When they had complied, she began class. “I’m going to start the movie we voted on yesterday. One at a time I want you to bring me the rough drafts on your book reports, so I can look them over.”
She started back to her seat, but the door to her classroom opened and in rushed Lisa Danvers and Glory Miller. For a second, the heat of embarrassment flushed her cheeks from her memories of Valentine’s Day and the girls finding her in the bathroom. She registered the looks on their faces.
Utter terror.
“What’s wrong?” She reached for both girls enfolding them in her arms.
“Rory Cook and Tobias Gordon, the new kid...they’re in the s-side p-parking lot.” Glory stammered.
Meg shook her head, a moment behind in comprehending.
“With guns!” Lisa shrieked and started to cry. Her classroom erupted, only steps away from mass hysteria.
“Stop!” Meg commanded. Everyone get on the floor against this wall. Now!” She pointed to the wall with no windows where no one could be seen from the door.
They rushed to comply.
“I need everyone to be quiet. No noise. I want them to think this room is empty. Clear?”
It took a few moments, but the majority nodded back at her. Their eyes were fearful. Some began to cry softly.
She hurried to her door. Opening it, she checked the hall for other students. There were none. Concern for the other classes on this wing of the building flooded her, but she had to call it in first. She closed the door and flipped the lock.
Making her way to her desk, she took out her cell phone. A debate over who to call lasted only a half a breath before she hit the speed dial and called Bret. He answered on the first ring.
“Meg?”
“Tobias and Rory are in the south parking lot with guns. I don’t know if they’re in the building yet.”
“How long ago were they seen?”
“Less than five minutes.”
“Stay put. We are already on our way. Almost there.” The command in Bret’s voice steadied her. “Lock your classroom door.”
“Done. How did you know?”
“Esteban. Where’s Joyce Sanchez’s geometry class?”
“What? Why?” Meg looked back to make sure her students were staying put. They were silent, eavesdropping on her end of the conversation.
“Where, Meg?”
“Three doors to the left of mine toward the center of the building. Room S-109.”
She heard a heavy sigh.
“Mr. Marsh was supposed to be instituting a lock down.” The tension in his voice was palpable.
“He hasn’t announced anything yet. The first step in a lockdown is to lock all the doors and make a sweep of the halls, lunch room, and gym. Then he makes an announcement.”
She looked at Lisa and Glory. “Were the doors locked? How did you get in?”
They both shook their heads. “No. They weren’t locked.”
A great many of the doors remained locked during school hours, but there were four sets that did not. The front doors, the back doors by the gym, and side doors on both the south and north sides of the building. It was her misfortune to have a classroom on the south hallway nearest the door.
“Bret?”
He’d gone silent.
“Bret?”
“I’m back, just reporting it in. We’ll all be there in minutes. Wait for me.”
He disconnected and Meg felt lost, cut off from all help and rescue. Panic rose from her stomach to the back of her throat, tightening her chest, choking off her air. She looked at her students, at their trusting faces. She swallowed hard and drew in a quiet breath through her nose. This was not going to happen at her school
She toyed with leaving her students and going to each of the twelve classrooms in this hall, one at a time. Would she have time? Would she end up a statistic? The first teacher shot in the hallway?
She didn’t know the answer. But other teachers and students were at risk. She couldn’t sit here and wait.
~~CHAPTER TWELVE~~
Meg walked to the corner where her kids were huddled. Squatting, she looked at their faces. How necessary was it to try to get to the other classrooms? Could she leave her students vulnerable without her? Honesty forced her to admit she was scared deep. Was she too scared to step into that hall and possibly confront any teacher’s worst nightmare? She looked from face to face, seeing fear, seeing confusion, but also trust. In her. She was responsible for this set of kids. This set. Not the kids across the hall. She had to do her job.
The speaker to the room cackled.
Mr. Marsh’s voice came over the intercom. “Teachers, we are going into a Code Red lock down. Please lock your classroom doors and institute roll call. Report any missing students by calling Mrs. Breen’s phone number. Report any disturbances. Remain in your classrooms with the door locked until you are notified.”
She sat down on the floor, relieved that the decision had been made for her. “Let’s all hold hands. It’ll be all right. The police are already on their way.”
The kids lined up against the wall, moving closer to each other. Before she included herself in the group, she took her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the office, reporting her attendance and her two extra students.
It was all up to the police department now.
Hurry, Bret. Hurry.
Bret sped through the parking lot and stopped next to the chief’s Blazer. He exited the car and tightened the Velcro on his body armor. His weapon checked, he reached into his car and lifted the shotgun from its mounting and examined it as well. Satisfied, he walked to where the other team members assembled.
Out on reconnaissance, Tom came around the side of the building and jogged toward the group. They all clustered around Chief Hudson, waiting for Tom’s information.
“They are still in the parking lot. Arguing about something. If we move now, we can stop this before it starts. I identified one handgun and one rifle between the two boys. Gir
l appears unarmed.”
“Where are they?”
Tom took a piece of paper from his pocket and drew a diagram. “They’re at the end of the parking lot nearest the south entrance standing by a black Dodge pickup. The slots on either side are empty, but the rest of the parking lot is pretty full. We can approach using the cars for cover and surprise them.”
Chief Hudson pointed at the diagram. “Four two-man teams. Lopez and Parker, here. Applegate and Cara here. Vogel and Hallam here. Jurdy and I will come from here. Quiet. No mistakes. Let’s go.”
Bret took a deep breath and shut all the worry about Meg away, compartmentalizing all those distracting feelings for later examination. Purely on training, he moved with Tom, ignoring the twinge in his knee.
They moved with stealth and speed to the side of the building. Peering down the parking lot, Bret checked the position of the three kids. They hadn’t moved from the position Tom had indicated, but the argument seemed to be escalating with the two boys taking swings at each other and the girl screaming at both.
“Let’s go, before they shoot each other.” Bret took point and they crossed the only spot where they would be visible, a ten-yard patch of grass between the building and the parking lot. The three teenagers were so engaged in their argument they didn’t notice.
Bret ducked and ran to the first car. Tom passed him to the next car in a leap-frog action until they reached the Dodge truck with the boys on the other side. Green Day’s latest song blared from the radio, but the boys disagreement was louder. The argument chilled his blood—whose choice it was to shoot which teacher first.
His earpiece hissed. The other three teams reported they were in position.
“Cara. Applegate. You’re on point. Go,” Hudson said.
With pleasure.
Bret exchanged silent communication with Tom. Tom went left to come in behind. He went right to confront them. The other teams would come from the side, to disarm and subdue with overwhelming force.
He confronted them while simultaneously pumping his shotgun. “Police! Drop your weapons!”
The boys froze.
Bret took two more steps. “Drop. The. Weapons. Get on the ground.”
Echo Falls, Texas Boxed Set Page 36
