As expected, the room erupted into shouts and laughter.
Mrs. Brown chuckled from her post near the back of the room before she called out, “If you wanted to get them talking, you couldn’t have picked a better topic, Officer Slate.”
“Call me Gen,” she said with a grin.
* * *
“YOU ALMOST LOOK like a freshman,” a woman commented to Gen as she patrolled the halls two hours later. “You’ve got that same scared look they all do.”
Gen smiled. “I’m not scared, I just keep getting lost in this building.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Lunch.”
The gal’s face brightened. “I’m heading there, too. You buying or did you bring your lunch?”
Gen held up her brown paper bag.
“Smart woman.” As they left the math wing and walked up a flight of stairs, the other woman introduced herself. “I’m Christy Pardue, by the way. We met the other day. I teach with Cary.”
Recognition clicked in. “Now I remember. You had your hair up and glasses on before, right?”
“Yep. Good memory.”
Gen nodded in acknowledgment. “Thanks for helping me through this maze.”
“No problem. How’s your day going?”
“It’s going.”
“Have you done this before? Been assigned to a school?”
“Not in a long time and not by myself.” Feeling as if she should be more positive, she added, “It’s a nice change of pace, though. Far better than directing traffic in the rain.”
“Especially if you catch whoever’s been causing so much trouble. The batch of pranks has got us all on high alert. Things like this just don’t happen around here. At least I didn’t think so.”
“In my experience, unexpected things happen everywhere. They just make more of an impact in a small town. But I’m confident we’ll find out who’s behind all this. Spray painting my cruiser was so blatant I think he or she wants to get caught.”
To Gen’s surprise, Christy looked at her for a long moment. “Maybe he or she does,” she murmured before making another turn. Christy then stopped and opened the door to a large staff room.
“We wondered if you were ever going to take a break,” an older man in wire-rimmed glasses said as she and Christy claimed two chairs. “How’s your first day going?”
Christy gave everyone a knowing look. “Right now, Officer Slate is attempting to negotiate the labyrinth we call Lane’s End High.”
“Good luck,” another teacher called out. “Took me two weeks to find the copy room.”
“I can believe it,” Gen said with a laugh. “I took two wrong turns and ended up in the wrestling room.”
As others introduced themselves, Christy put change in a pop machine and pulled out a Coke. Gen did the same.
After they sat down, the older guy spoke again. “So have you run into Matthew Reid yet?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’d know him if you saw him. He’s currently wearing a skull-shaped nose ring.”
“It sets off his bald head,” another teacher said.
“No, I haven’t seen him,” Gen replied. “What’s he like?”
“Smart as a whip. Sarcastic. You’re going to love him.”
“I’ll be on the lookout for him, if I get the chance. Maybe he’ll stand out in health class.”
Christy nodded as she opened up a carton of yogurt. “Evan was smart to place you in Pat Brown’s room. She’s a good teacher and she’s got a nice rapport with most everyone.”
Two more teachers entered the room, speaking excitedly, their conversation grabbing everyone’s attention.
“What’s going on?” Christy called out.
“We just broke up a fight. Jimmy Aiken and Brian McCullough.”
Gen tensed. Those names she recognized. Brian was Melissa’s boyfriend, and she’d dated Jimmy twice before him.
Christy shook her head in mock surprise. “Goodness, I wonder what that could have been about?”
As everyone laughed, Gen turned to Christy. “Melissa?”
Christy sighed. “Yep. Always Melissa.”
The taller of the two men who’d announced the news grabbed a paper sack out of the refrigerator and joined them. “When is Jimmy ever going to get it through his head that Melissa isn’t going to give him the time of day? The poor kid practically tackled her on the way out of class.”
“What happened?”
“They were walking out of History when Joe Kelly dropped a book. Melissa knocked into him, and Jimmy went to the rescue, trying to catch her before she fell.” The teacher rolled his eyes. “He put his arms around her, Melissa yelped and Brian went into rescue mode.”
“Ugh,” Christy said. “Hey, Dave, do you need professional help with the fight? We’ve got a real live cop here to restore order.”
“Thanks for the offer, but no. The last thing anyone in that trio needs is fuel to fan the situation. I told them to cool off. They will,” Dave said with an Eddie Haskell–looking smirk. Turning to Gen, he held out a hand. “Hi, Officer Slate. I’m Dave. I teach math down in the catacombs with Cary and Christy. My fifth-period class could give any daytime soap a run for its money.”
“Call me Gen.” Intrigued in spite of herself, she asked, “So Jimmy grabbing Melissa is what set everyone off?”
Dave glanced at other interested teachers. “Not quite. After Brian pulled Melissa out of Jimmy’s arms, Jimmy made a comment about Brian not appreciating her.”
Christy put her sandwich down. “Wow.”
“Then Brian said Jimmy was just upset because he failed yet again to get Melissa to break up with him.”
Dave waggled his eyebrows. “I told you it’s better than As the World Turns.”
“This bickering has been going on for weeks,” Christy explained.
“And it’s not getting any better. After Jimmy said that, Brian laid into him, and finally Melissa started crying and ran out of the room. I wasn’t sure Cary wanted to get involved, but I had to tell him what was going on since Melissa was in the middle of it.”
Even though she felt a little zing at Cary’s name, Gen concentrated on the real issue. “What about Brian and Jimmy? What are they like?”
The room erupted in laughter. “Let’s just say it’s no surprise that Melissa ended up with Brian,” Kevin said. “Jimmy’s kind of a live wire.”
“I taught his older brother,” a man standing near the microwave said. “The whole family’s wound too tight.”
“Do you think he’d ever do anything illegal?” Gen asked. Maybe Jimmy’s hurt feelings were displaying themselves in new ways.
Kevin turned to her in surprise. “The question should really be, do I think he’d do anything illegal again?”
* * *
“MELISSA, GUYS ARE jerks. Once you understand that, everything will get easier,” Cary said that evening. Looking out into his backyard at the four pine trees he and Dean had planted almost ten years ago, Cary wondered where the time had gone. The trees had grown...and so had Melissa’s problems. Once upon a time, a bad day for Melissa had meant she’d gotten a splinter.
“Even you?”
“Especially me,” he said, pulling her into a hug.
Melissa hiccuped as she slumped next to him. “I can’t believe they got in a fight. Over nothing!”
“It probably wasn’t nothing to them.” He cast her a sideways glance. “It was over you, right?”
Melissa rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”
He brushed back a long strand of her thick blond hair. “I do.”
“I can’t believe Jimmy said all that stuff in front of everybody!”
“He’s only thinking about you, Missy.”
“I wish he’d stop. He needs to back off, listen to me when I tell him no. I love Brian.”
“Jimmy likes you, Melissa, and he doesn’t understand why you don’t feel the same. I’ve been in his shoes—it’s a frustrating place to be.”
“Is that how you were with Ms. Daniels?”
Hearing Kate’s name made Cary breathe deep. “Yeah. We weren’t serious like you and Brian, but I thought we could be.”
“What about with Officer Slate?”
Now it was his turn to be on the defensive. “Why do you ask?”
Seeing she’d found a touchy subject, Melissa’s pretty blue eyes gleamed. “There’s something between the two of you, Uncle Cary. Everyone can tell.”
“Is that right?”
“Uh-huh. Officer Slate blushes and stammers every time she’s near you.”
Actually, he had noticed the blushing part.
“And you, Uncle Cary, get all tongue-tied.”
He couldn’t deny it. Their relationship was so mixed up on different levels he was all in knots. “You’re right. I like her. I think she likes me, too. But it’s complicated. Unfortunately the older you are when you fall in love, the harder it is.”
“Maybe,” she said with some surprise. “I knew I was in love with Brian when he stayed after basketball practice one day to help me with my geometry homework.”
“When was that? You know I could have helped—”
“Uncle Cary! I didn’t need help. I needed Brian.” Speculatively she leaned closer. “What do you need?”
He needed his life to go on hold for a couple of weeks so he could concentrate on nothing but Gen Slate and the way she made him feel.
Chapter Fourteen
“IT’S THE WEEKEND, Gen,” Cary said when he called at eight o’clock on Saturday morning.
After juggling the phone while she struggled to sit up, Gen yawned. “Is there a reason you called me to tell me that?”
“Get up. Let’s go canoeing.”
Gen’s eyes opened wide. “Because?”
“It’s sunny, it’s almost warm and sharing a canoe will place me in close quarters with you.” After a pause, his voice came over the line soft and teasing. “Ever shared a canoe before, Gen?”
She laughed in spite of her sleepiness. “I’ll let you know in a little while.”
“So it’s a yes?”
“Absolutely.” Peering at the clock, she said, “When do you want to meet? Around two or three?”
“I don’t want to wait that long. Meet me in one hour next to the running store near the bike trail. We’ll walk to Joe’s Canoe Shop from there.”
One hour? Was he insane? “Cary—”
“I never pegged you as lazy. Get yourself out of bed, Slate.”
Who was he calling lazy? “I’ll be there.”
“Don’t forget to bring a bathing suit and a change of clothes, okay? You might need them in case you fall in.”
“I’ll be ready,” she said, snickering as she hung up the phone. If she fell in. Please.
Cary must have forgotten that she was a West Virginia girl who wasn’t afraid of class-V rapids. She certainly didn’t need to be reminded of how to paddle or how to stay in a canoe. But, because she was as eager to be with him as he was with her, she decided to let that secret slide for now. Margaret always said it was good for a woman to have a few secrets.
An hour later, they met next to the trail, fully prepared for their day. Gen and Cary signed waivers, rode an old school bus a few miles to the drop-off place and hiked down a windy path to where their canoe was docked.
Painted bright yellow, it sat on the banks of the Little Miami River, just waiting for them to stop arguing.
“I should definitely sit in the front, Gen,” Cary said one more time. “The river is calm, but there are a couple of sections where some small rapids kick in where you need to paddle hard.”
There was no way Gen was going to let him tell her what to do. “Don’t be quick to judge, Hudson. I’m just as strong as you are.”
“But that won’t help us if you aren’t prepared—”
“Listen, I can canoe,” she fairly shouted. “I’ve been up and down the New River in West Virginia more than a dozen times. Most likely I’m more experienced than you are. So hop in.”
Cary raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier, before I talked about river safety for twenty minutes?”
She grinned. “Because you seemed to think you knew everything and I knew nothing. I wanted you to realize what a goof you were being.”
“I guess I was being a goof,” he said with a smile. “I just want you happy.”
Just like that, her competitiveness melted. “I am happy.”
“Good.” He waved to the canoe. “All right, get in then. You lead the way.”
She didn’t argue with that. In fact, she couldn’t resist teasing him a little bit as she stowed her gear in the canoe. “Will your feelings be hurt if you sit behind me while I take the lead?”
After a moment, he grinned evilly. “Not in the slightest. As a matter of fact, I’m going to love having you in front of me.”
That little comment just about made her trip on a root sticking out of the bank. Gen saved herself in time and hopped in. Cary pushed their canoe into the river and swung inside expertly. As the gentle current pulled them from shore, Cary got comfortable behind her.
Before she knew it, she was sitting snugly in between his legs, her back against his chest. Although it felt good, she chided, “You know, we don’t have to sit so close together. There’s plenty of room, probably another foot behind you.”
“I disagree, Slate.” To her surprise, he pushed her ponytail to one side and kissed her nape. “I think this is exactly how we should be sitting.”
Gen dipped her paddle in the water, thinking as they floated that Cary might just have a point. His arms felt strong around her, his lips tempting and sure as he brushed them a little lower along the curve of her shoulder.
As the current propelled them forward, Gen leaned back a little more, enjoying the feel of his hands wrapped around her waist. “I’ve never canoed like this,” she murmured. “It’s nice.”
“It’s very nice.”
As a wave of contentment washed over her, Gen closed her eyes for a moment. Suddenly their canoe rocked.
Startled, she popped open her eyes and saw that they were coasting right toward a large boulder jutting out of the water. “Rock! Big rock!” she called out, sounding like an idiot.
Immediately Cary sat up and pushed his paddle into the water. He started rowing backward frantically.
The canoe righted for a split second, then rocked again as Cary scooted away from her. Gen thrust her paddle into the water on the opposite side of the canoe.
That’s when it became apparent that their jerky movements were no match for the river. After floating past the boulder, their canoe pitched once, twice, then promptly tipped over.
Gen and Cary landed in the water with a noisy splash.
Quickly he grabbed at the boat with one hand and her with the other. As the icy currents rushed around them, they treaded water, and Gen was thankful they were strong swimmers.
After tossing both paddles into the canoe, Cary said, “You okay?”
“I’m fine, but my ego’s been better,” she replied with a laugh as she grabbed the side of the canoe, as well. “Maybe I shouldn’t have acted so cocky about my abilities.”
Once they stabilized the boat, they climbed in. Cary laughed. “I think we should concentrate on rowing from now on.”
Too wet to argue, Gen relaxed as Cary got them back on course. Then, as the canoe floated safely through the current again, she knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be on a S
aturday morning.
“Let’s do this again real soon,” she said.
“Anytime you want, Gen. Anytime at all.”
* * *
IN BETWEEN HER TIME in Pat Brown’s classroom and patrolling the school, Gen did some research into Jimmy Aiken’s history. After speaking with several teachers and Jimmy’s parents she found out the boy had been involved with a few minor misdemeanors. When he was fourteen, he’d been caught by the police trying to buy cigarettes. Another time, he’d done some underage drinking.
However, by all accounts, the boy had been on the straight and narrow ever since he’d been chosen to be on the varsity basketball squad. Coach Jackson revealed that he’d had more than a few talks with Jimmy about expectations...and consequences.
Now it seemed the only thing bothering the boy was a certain blonde cheerleader who had eyes for someone else. However, although Jimmy had cleaned himself up, it was still possible he was the one responsible for all the recent mischief. Turned out that Coach Jackson hadn’t held practices during the afternoon Melissa’s tires had been slashed or when Gen’s own cruiser had been spray painted.
While keeping Jimmy in mind as a possible suspect, Gen increased her efforts to discover who might be creating so much havoc in the school. In the meantime, she also did her best to fit in.
It was amazing how things didn’t change as a person got older. Gen still hoped people wanted to sit with her at lunch and still didn’t want to be the new girl. Though she and Cary had sat together a few times, Gen knew focusing on her budding relationship while she was on duty wouldn’t further the investigation or her position in town. She needed to be clearheaded and alert when she talked to other teachers, and being with Cary made everything else fade into the background.
Luckily she’d made a friend in Christy, as well as a few other women.
Gen had also taken pains to get to know Amy better.
The girl really did need a friend. She looked so sad, so eager for attention, Gen couldn’t help but compare herself to her. High school had been hard for Gen, always being in Margaret’s shadow. No matter what Gen did, she never seemed to measure up to her sister’s beauty, grades or reputation. Though she’d pretended she didn’t care, Gen had desperately wanted to be known just as Gen, not as Margaret Slate’s little sister.
Starting Over at Lane's End (Harlequin Heartwarming) Page 12
