Kimber entered the office and stood beside her chair. Denise lifted her feet so Sprocket would move and pulled Kimber in front of her. “Tell me what happened in class today.”
Kimber turned her head toward the teacher, her eyes downcast.
Swear to all that is holy, if that teacher threatened her, I’m taking a baseball bat to her car.
She grasped Kimber’s chin and made her look at her. “Hey. Just you and me, okay? Tell me.”
“We were doing math worksheets and I finished mine really fast, so Miss Neville started writing problems on the board and I kept getting them right. She kept putting harder and harder ones up and I was doing them. Then she put a really hard one on the board and she said, ‘let’s see you get this one, Smarty Pants.’”
The woman scoffed and Denise cut her eyes toward her, daring her to open her mouth. She rolled her eyes and looked out the window.
Bitch.
“What happened then?” Denise asked.
“I got it right, but Miss Neville said I didn’t. But I did! I know I did!”
“Okay, calm down.” That was rich, coming from her. Oh well, those that can’t do… “Where did the arguing come in?”
“I tried to show her what she did wrong, but she told me I didn’t know what I was talking about because I’m just a kid. Then she sent me here and told Mr. Silverman I was d—d—disrespectful, but I wa—wasn’t!”
Kimber threw herself into Denise’s arms, crying almost hysterically. She’d always been sensitive and had never liked to be told she’d done something wrong. Being sent to the principal’s office probably felt like being told she had to go to jail.
Denise patted her back and made shushing noises while glaring at the vice-principal. He rubbed his chin and looked at Miss Neville, as if this was the first time he’d heard Kimber’s side of the story.
Dick.
She pulled Kimber away from her shoulder and whispered in her ear, “It’s going to be okay. I’m very proud of you for sticking up for yourself.”
Kimber hiccupped and stood upright. “Really?”
“Yes. Go wait outside.”
She sniffed and wiped her cheek. “Can I take Sprocket?”
Denise took a deep breath. She’s a child. You’re an adult. You can suck it up for five minutes. “Yes.”
Kimber bent and grasped Sprocket’s short lead, taking her out with her.
Waiting until Kimber was in the outer office, she turned back to the teacher. “Was she right?”
The woman cut her eyes to the side. “That’s not the point.”
Denise shut her eyes, stretched her neck, and counted to five while blowing out a breath. “So let me get this straight—you got intimidated and embarrassed by an eight-year-old and your ego couldn’t handle it. So instead of being a fucking adult about it, you abused your authority as her teacher to get her in trouble. That about it?”
She sulked and didn’t respond.
You cannot throat punch her. “Is there another class Kimber can go into until we transfer at the end of the semester?” she asked the vice-principal.
“That won’t be necessary. Miss Neville is a substitute and we won’t be using her services after this incident.”
“What?” Her outrage bordered on a shriek.
“Perhaps next time,” Denise said as she stood, “you’ll ask the student in trouble for their side of the story before deciding they should be punished. Just because someone is a child doesn’t automatically mean they’re lying any more than being an adult means someone is automatically telling the truth.”
She left the office and went to the secretary’s desk. “I’d like to pull Kaden out for the rest of the day. Can I go get him or does he need to be brought here?”
The older woman smiled. “I’ll call down to his class and ask his teacher to send him here.”
Sitting next to Kimber, she pulled out her phone and looked up the number her mom had sent her. Sprocket rose from her position on the floor and laid her head on her lap, looking up at her with her soulful eyes.
Denise closed her eyes while the phone rang and rubbed her dog’s ears. The familiar gesture helped calm her emotions and lower her blood pressure. She timed the movement of her hand and pace of her breathing to the ringing in her ear.
On the fifth ring, it picked up. “Yumi Morris. May I help you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Morris. This is Denise Reynolds, Karen Reynolds’s daughter?”
“Oh, yes! She said you might be calling. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you.” Kimber was watching her, so she smiled to let her know everything was all right. “I’m calling to see if you have time to fit me in this afternoon to come by to discuss enrolling Kimber and Kaden. I know it’s very last minute, so I understand if today doesn’t work.”
“Hang on, let me see.”
Denise leaned over and kissed Kimber on the head while she waited for Yumi to come back on the line.
“You’re in luck, dear. I can move some things around if you can be here in the next thirty minutes.”
Kaden entered the office and made a beeline for the chair next to Kimber, throwing his arm around her shoulders when he sat.
“We’ll be there. Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome. I look forward to meeting you and your children.”
Her heart squeezed a little tighter. Not in the way it usually did that left an ache. More like a pulse of happiness. Her children.
She stared at her cell phone for a moment, then looked at K-Squared. “Let’s go on a field trip.”
“So, what did you think?” Denise asked as they walked out of the school toward the visitor parking lot.
Kimber skipped beside her. “It’s awesome, Aunt Denny! They have a math club!”
“You’re such a nerd,” Kaden said.
“You’re a geek,” Kimber replied. “I saw you jump when Ms. Morris mentioned the robots.”
“Robotics lab. Robots are cool.”
“So’s math.”
“Is not.”
“Is too.”
“Guys!” Denise said. “Quit fighting. You are both smart and cool.” Holy cow, how had Sarah handled this all the time? “I take it you both like the school.”
“Yes!” they said in unison.
“When can we go here?” Kimber asked.
“Well, that’s the thing,” Denise said as they reached her SUV. “The plan was to wait until next year after we move to Bree’s house during the summer. But if you guys want, we can see about moving sooner and you can transfer sooner.”
She opened the back door and Sprocket jumped in, sitting in the center of the seat. The kids climbed in and Kimber got bathed in doggie kisses as she shuffled to the far side.
“You’re letting us decide?” Kaden asked.
Denise leaned into the car. “Here’s the deal. This affects you two, not me. You’re the ones who have to move to a new house and change schools and leave all your friends behind. I want you to have a say in when we do it. I thought waiting until summer would be easier for you, but if you want to transfer now, I’ll make it happen.”
They looked at each other for a moment.
“I’ll miss my friends,” Kaden said. “But we’ll make new ones.”
“I’ll only miss Melody and she can always come over to play on the weekends.”
It was a lot to ask of them, to make a responsible decision like this, but she’d never had the option growing up. They’d just always moved. While they needed to move houses—and schools—she wanted them to feel like they were part of making the process happen instead of having the process happen to them.
“I really like this school,” Kimber whispered.
“Me, too.”
They looked at Denise. “Can we move tomorrow?” Kaden asked.
Denise laughed and ruffled his hair. “Not tomorrow, buddy. I need get you guys registered and make arrangements with Bree to move into her house. We can probably make it happen in a coup
le of weeks, though.”
“Okay.”
“Now that that’s settled, how about if we go bowling?”
Chapter 18
“Pleeeeease, Aunt Denny? It’s my favorite song.” Kimber folded her hands under her chin in supplication.
Denise’s eye twitched. It was only a song. If she lived through the next three and a half minutes, she’d delete it from her music folder. Oops. Sorry, honey, I don’t know what happened.
“One time. We’re not listening to that song on repeat the whole way home.”
“Yay!”
Kaden groaned. “Are you really going to make us listen to Taylor Swift?”
“Yes!” Kimber bounced up and down in her seat.
Denise pressed her thumb against the home button on her phone to unlock it and passed it back to Kimber. “Here you go.” She turned south onto 401 as the first strains of Shake It Off came through the speakers, immediately regretting installing a new stereo system in her SUV.
“Aunt Denny,” Kaden complained.
“Dude, I’ll turn on Octane as soon as the song is done and let the soothing sounds of hard rock purge our eardrums. Deal?”
“Deal.”
She glanced back at him through the rearview mirror. His arms were crossed and he was sulking, but his lips were moving, singing along to the song.
Pulling into a straightaway on the two-lane country road, she was nearly blinded by the high-beam headlights of a truck approaching from the rear. She was doing the speed limit, mindful that deer were prevalent on this stretch of road at night. The last thing she needed to do was take one out with the kids in the car.
She flipped the rearview mirror and put her hand up against the window to block the glare from the side mirror. “Go around, asshole,” she muttered, slowing down so the driver could pass them.
Too late she realized he wasn’t going to pass them.
“Shit!” She pressed the gas pedal, hoping to gain some speed before they were—
Crunch.
Kimber let out a little scream.
“What’s happening, Aunt Denny?” Kaden asked.
She checked all the mirrors. The jolt had sent them forward, but the truck was approaching again. “I don’t know, Kaden. Do me a favor. Turn off the music and dial nine-one-one.”
“The screen’s locked.”
She hit the power button on the radio to shut off the music. In the sudden silence, she heard pipes approaching from the rear. Two Harley-Davidson motorcycles pulled alongside them as they were bumped again. Kimber screamed again and started crying.
“Guys, I need your help. I can’t unlock the screen and drive. Kaden, hit the emergency call button and dial nine-one-one.”
Sprocket growled low in her throat and snarled out the window.
“Sprocket, down. Go to Kimber.”
One of the bikes pulled ahead of them and its taillight flashed, forcing her to brake so she didn’t hit it.
“We’re in my aunt’s car. Someone is hitting us,” Kaden said.
“Kaden, put it on speaker phone.” She checked the rearview mirror. The truck was riding her bumper, only the dark silhouette of the driver visible.
“—what’s your emergency?”
“My name is Denise Reynolds. I’m driving south on Highway 401, approaching Fayetteville. I have my niece and nephew in the car and we’re being boxed in by two motorcycles and bumped by a truck behind us.” A glance to the right showed no shoulder on the two-lane country highway. One of the reasons she loved this stretch of road was the lack of traffic. Fuck.
“Ma’am, your nephew said you were hit. Is that correct?”
She was losing speed trying not to hit the rider in front of her. Movement in her peripheral made her look left. The guy on the bike wore a mask that covered the lower half of his face and he was pointing a gun at her. He wagged it, telling her to pull over.
Her heart stuttered. She wasn’t afraid of guns, she’d had more than a few pointed at her, but Kaden and Kimber hadn’t. These motherfuckers were putting her kids in danger. Just bumping her to make her lose control had been enough of a risk.
“Guys, keep your seat belts on and lay on the seat.” Her fingers itched to pull her own gun and point back, but Kimber’s muffled sobs stopped her. Shooting the asshole wasn’t an option with the kids in the car. Sprocket’s tags jangled, but she couldn’t take the chance to look.
“Ma’am, please don’t make any aggressive moves toward the other vehicles. Proceed as quickly and safely as possible to the nearest police station.”
Fuck that noise. “Right. ‘Cause I know exactly where that is. Kaden, the pass code to my phone is one-two-three-five-eight-zero. Can you find the map app and find a police station?”
She eased down on the gas pedal, slowly picking up speed, forcing the bike in front of her to do the same or get bumped himself. His taillight flashed, but she ignored it. His bike jolted forward and wobbled when she refused to back down. A quick glance out of the corner of her eye showed her the guy on her left had become more insistent with his signal to pull over.
“I think so.”
Another bump from behind snapped her neck forward. These assholes were seriously beginning to piss her off. A “curve ahead” road sign flashed by and she knew exactly where they were. A large culvert ran perpendicular to this particular section of highway. All she needed to do was clear the path ahead of them and pick up some speed.
And hope the asshole on the bike didn’t try to shoot out her tires.
“Okay. Hang on. I’m getting us out of here.”
The voice on the phone continued to babble, but she wasn’t listening.
She didn’t ease down on the pedal—she floored it. The maneuver knocked the bike in front of them, sending it sideways and crashing to the pavement. Braking hard, she swerved to the left, sending the gunman into the guardrail along the road. Then she hit the gas again. The screech of brakes echoed as she picked up speed. Checking the rearview quickly, she saw the truck stopped in the road behind them. Guess they were lucky the driver hadn’t been willing to run over his buddies.
She turned the headlights off, taking her chances with the ambient light cast by random street and house lights.
“In four hundred feet, turn left,” the map’s automated voice said.
Noting the odometer, she waited until the last minute before slowing down to make the turn.
“You guys okay?”
“Yes,” they both said.
“Ma’am, are you still there?”
She reached between the seats and held out her hand. “Let me have the phone, buddy.”
He placed it in her hand. “Where’d you learn to drive like that?”
“The Army.”
“Cool.”
Well, shit.
Denise sat at the utilitarian table, absentmindedly scratching Sprocket’s head. Damn good thing they’d let her keep her dog with her. She’d be losing her shit about now if not. It was bad enough they’d separated her from the kids. The only reason she’d allowed that to happen was her parents had shown up at the police station right before the FBI agents.
The door opened and the agents from earlier walked in. They both wore black suits and she fought to roll her eyes at the Men in Black cliché they presented. Something about one or both of them set Sprocket off, making her hackles rise and she growled low in her throat.
“Control your dog,” the woman agent said.
Huh. She wouldn’t have pegged her as the problem child. Not a good way to start an interrogation of a witness. Amateur. “She doesn’t like you,” she said pleasantly.
“We’ll remove it if we have to,” she threatened.
“You’re welcome to try.”
Chris and Phil walked in and sat across from her at the table. Phil nodded tightly and she responded with a small smile. From Chris she got nothing. Not even a good evening. And wasn’t that just the icing on tonight’s cake.
“Ms. Reynolds—Denise. Please br
ing your dog to heel,” Phil asked.
“Sprocket.”
The dog immediately sat and licked her chops but the hair on her nape was still raised with her agitation.
“It’s nice to see you again, even if it’s under these circumstances. We appreciate your cooperation.”
Denise glanced between Chris and Phil and then at the agents who’d taken up positions around the room, effectively boxing her in, and raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”
“We do,” Chris said. His voice was flat. Even. No stress to indicate he was anything more than an agent questioning a witness.
Denise pressed her lips together and cut her eyes to the side. “I’d appreciate it if there was no one standing behind me.” The third agent was beside the door so she could see him in her periphery, but the female agent had taken up residence behind her and she could feel her animosity looming over her.
Phil glanced over Denise’s shoulder and nodded his head to the side. She swore she felt her hair shift in the breeze created by the agent’s sigh, but she moved.
“What do you need?” Denise asked. She’d cooperate as long as it was in her and K-Squared’s best interests.
“Run through what happened,” Chris said.
Another look gave her no indication of what he was feeling. Just another day at the office. The ache that throbbed in her chest made her realize it had gone away—for a while at least. Now it was back. She really needed to learn her lesson the first few times.
Mentally shaking her head, Denise spread her hands flat on the table, fingers splayed, and closed her eyes. She needed to give them the details and take Kaden and Kimber home where they were safe.
She went through S.A.L.U.T.E. – Size, Activity, Location, Unit, Time, and Equipment. Old habits died hard and reporting enemy actions had once been second nature. She froze the moment in her mind, examining it from every angle and running back over the details she’d filed away to recall later. She went through the timeline from the first time they were hit until they pulled into the police station.
“The bike on my side had custom artwork on the gas tank. Yellow or gold flames. I couldn’t see any artwork on the one in front of me. They had on black helmets and the faces were covered by those half masks that look like skulls. Long sleeve black shirts and jeans on one of the guys, black pants on the other. They were both wearing leather vests with Southern Anarchist patches on the back.”
Locked-Down Heart (Combat Hearts Book 3) Page 12
