Teaching Ms. Riggs

by Stephanie Beck

  Ben nodded at his thoughtful words. It was something she’d been told a few times by school board members and fellow staff, and it had made the transition sweeter. No one she’d spoke with regretted coming home, and she didn’t think she would either.

  “I’m glad to be back.”

  When Mark took a second at a stop sign to turn and smile at her she smiled back. He went back to driving, and she missed the joy his expression had shared but they were nearly to her place. It was probably best she didn’t get addicted to his presence.

  “I’m on the north side of the building.”

  The car driving in front of them turned onto a side road. Nothing about the vehicle stood out, but when the driver was in sight for a split second Ben gasped.

  “Whoa, all right there, Ben?”

  She wasn’t all right. If the driver was who she suspected, Ben was a long way from okay.

  “Um, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? Did you know someone in that car? I think she waved,” Mark said, and Ben fought the urge to jump out of the truck and run to the safety of her apartment.

  “No, I didn’t know her.” Ben looked between the windshield and rearview mirror as Mark pulled the truck to the curb. She didn’t know if the car would return or not, but if it did she had to be ready to run.

  “I can try to catch her if you want,” Mark offered.

  Her stomach turned at his words. “No, God, no. Why would you do that?” She grabbed her grocery bags in one hand and jumped out of the truck before she said something more. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Hey, no problem,” he called. “Is everything okay, Ben?”

  She waved but didn’t look back as she made a beeline for the building. She had to get inside.

  The renovated Victorian house had homie touches like the front porch and shared hallways Ben liked aesthetically, and for safety sake, they provided an openness that made it difficult for intruders to hide. Ideally she would have moved into a second or third floor apartment, but only the lower front had been available. After she’d found out her husband hadn’t been killed randomly, those things had become important.

  He’d been murdered by a woman he’d been seeing for over a year. Ben had never met her, had never known about her, until the police had shown her pictures. When she’d begun to get frightening messages in Chicago, she’d known it was time to go home.

  Ben vaulted up the porch stairs and closed the main door behind her, telling herself she was overreacting. She walked to her door and blew out a relived breath when she found it locked as she’d left it. The police in Chicago had told her not to worry, and she tried to follow their advice. That didn’t stop her from triple locking her door.

  Chapter 4

  The calls started at dusk. Ben looked at the phone and waited. It could be anyone, but she knew it wasn’t. Only one person called her at dusk. She chewed her thumbnail, a horrible habit she’d broken years ago, but it was back. Just like the harassment.

  She considered not answering the phone or just turning it off, but Ben knew it wouldn’t work. If she didn’t answer, rocks started coming through her window, or worse. Ben didn’t think she could handle worse again. The door was locked and had the chair in front of it. Her bedroom was also bolted shut. The windows were locked, and all the shades were drawn. Her world was as small and protected as Ben could make it. All but the phone. The new number didn’t matter, and the fact that it was unlisted seemed like no deterrent at all against her stalker.

  The phone rang again. Ben tasted blood on her lip and realized she’d bitten through the skin on her thumb. She wiped her abused nail with a tissue and lifted the receiver to her ear.

  “Leave me alone, please, leave me alone.” She was begging. She needed peace and if begging was what her stalker wanted, she’d push aside her pride and do it. “I’d give you money if I had any. Please, just tell me what I can do to get this to stop.”

  “I don’t want your money, Bennie. Don gave me plenty.” The voice. It wasn’t often that the woman actually spoke, but every time it gave Ben chills. There was something wrong with the woman. Something evil.

  “Then what? Please. I want this over.”

  “Oh. I don’t know, Bennie, there’s so much.” She laughed, a nearly sweet giggle that made her sound like she was flirting, and Ben cringed. Between the front door lock and the bolt on her bedroom door only feet away, she was safe. She knew that, but the knowledge didn’t stop her from shaking.

  “What do you want from me?” she demanded again, checking the windows.

  “I watched you at the funeral, and you cried and I liked that. I want you to cry while I watch. I want to taste your tears.”

  “I’ve cried,” Ben confessed, the tears threatening again as helplessness filled her. “All the time.”

  “Good, then you’re doing something right,” the stalker replied, the bubbling flirt so strong in her twisted words Ben felt dirty just listening. “Don’t worry, by the time I’m done with you those itty bitty tears will be the least of your worries. You just wait and see.”

  The line went dead again, but Ben didn’t let go of the receiver for a long moment. She stared at the phone and at her bedroom door, straining to hear if there was movement in the rest of her apartment. She was going crazy.

  But this time she wasn’t running. She had nowhere to run. She set her phone beside the cradle and pulled her cellphone from her nightstand. It was a pay-by-the-minute plan and wickedly expensive, but in Chicago the police had used her hanging up the phone as a reason not to pursue the threatening phone calls.

  Ben turned on her cellphone. She’d made enough mistakes to know if she started making them again she’d be dead. As much as she didn’t want to bring anyone into her problems, she couldn’t handle them herself. Praying for patience and for the help she so desperately needed, she dialed nine-one-one.

  * * * *

  Ben didn’t know how she was going to stay awake. Her normally uncomfortable stool at her desk was worse than usual, but that still didn’t keep her eyes from drooping.

  After calling the sheriff, she’d agreed to go down to the station to give the full details while an officer looked over her apartment. She’d gone over all the sordid details of her past with the sheriff and one of his deputies. The ugliness was all Don’s and, unlike in Chicago, the Flathead Falls police left the blame on him and let her be the victim.

  In Chicago, superficial attempts had been made to catch Don’s killer, but in the police’s eyes, Victoria had done them a favor in gunning Don down. Ben shivered when she remembered one of the detectives telling her that word for word. They had never, and would never, waste manpower to chase down a woman who had done a public service.

  Asleep on her feet, Ben finished her attendance papers and locked her classroom door at four o’clock. The sheriff had advised against walking alone after dark, but since it was still early fall, she had a few more weeks until she really needed to use her car. Ben waved to a deputy as he made a drive past her apartment complex just like the sheriff promised.

  Hope filled her for the first time in months.

  She was about to stop at home when she remembered her aunt had asked her to drop by the nursing home and say ‘hi’ to one of her old friends.

  Ben never minded doing her aunt’s bidding, especially if it meant Whilemina Riggs would stay out of her everyday life a little longer. She smiled as she turned toward the nursing home. The good thing about small towns was the distance between places, and of course, the fact that her aunt had sworn never to live in one again.

  She loved her aunt, she really did, but the elder Riggs was a pill and a half. Ben turned onto the path leading to the nursing home. She’d visited often with church groups throughout the years and mentally added it to places to escape to when the evenings in her little apartment got too long.

  A honk came from behind her. She froze, but after she turned and saw who it was, she smiled. Deputy Teddy Williams, the one who answered her ca
ll the night before, had kept an eye on her. He waved as he passed. The hope that had started to bubble became something more and she felt safe. It was so foreign it made her feel a little giddy.

  She walked to the front desk and smiled when the receptionist gave her a puzzled look. Ben toned down the wattage on her smile when the other woman showed no signs of warming up.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Mable Hampton.”

  “You must be Ben.” A nurse from behind the desk shuffled paperwork before she finally looked up. “Mable is already sleeping for the night. She had a tough day.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Ben replied.

  “But I’ll let your aunt know you did indeed come by,” the nurse said with a smirk.

  “She’s called?”

  “Four times,” she answered, and Ben enjoyed the bit of camaraderie that she wasn’t the only one her aunt drove crazy. “I’ll let her know you stopped by, and if you would like to see Mable, and she’s a dear so you’ll both enjoy it, Thursdays are usually better.”

  Ben swung her tote higher on her back and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try back on Thursday. Thanks.”

  She had time she didn’t know what she was going to do with, but suddenly that didn’t seem like such a bad thing. With a lighter heart she headed back into the heat. The building was surrounded by gardens with paths, so she picked one and strolled through the flowers. If she came across one of the residents, well maybe she could visit with them for a while. Otherwise it was just nice to be in the quiet, surrounded by pretty things.

  When she came to a fork in the path, she took a long moment to decide her next direction. Finally, she took a side path and was thrilled when it narrowed slightly and ended at a fountain. Unfortunately, the sweet trickling of water didn’t meet her ears as it should have. She stopped short when a denim-covered butt under one of the electrical panels caught her eye. It was a little naughty, but as she quietly ogled, she couldn’t help but think it was familiar.

  The left pocket was torn, allowing a bit of white from beneath to show. The shoes were nondescript, but very white. So familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on who it was until she saw the baseball cap lying beside him with a few tools. Feeling freer than she had in months, she grinned.

  “Wow, the scenery around here sure has improved since the last time I visited.”

  He jerked hard and when the blunted sound of his head connecting with the metal box rang out she winced even as she bit back a giggle. She stepped into the landscape and offered Mark Dougstat a hand when he shimmied out, his palm pressed to his forehead.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, checking for blood in case he’d really hurt himself.

  He peeked from beneath his hand, and pink tinged his cheeks. “Um, yeah, I’m fine. Just rung my bell a little.”

  “I bet.” She bit her cheek to stop her inappropriate laughter. She felt giddy, though, at being so bold and carefree with a man. “I should have given you a little more warning. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem,” he said and stood up without taking her hand. A small red abrasion showed on his forehead, but other than the scrape he looked fine.

  More than fine, Ben thought, looking him up and down as he reached to the ground for his hat. Mark Dougstat was a handsome man. Older than her usual type, if she even had one anymore. She didn’t even want to think about her lack of dating skills. Instead she smiled again and just let herself enjoy Mark smiling back at her.

  “So, you volunteer for the school board and here too? What don’t you do, Mr. Dougstat?”

  He flushed again, like he was embarrassed by the praise, which Ben found all the more endearing.

  “I help out with maintenance here, along with a few of the other men from my church. The nursing home had to cut one of the maintenance positions because of cost this year, so we’re stepping in when we can,” he explained.

  He was too good to be true, Ben thought as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dusted his hands off. Or maybe it had just been too long since she’d been around a man who wasn’t scum. She worried the latter was true, but at the moment that past didn’t matter.

  “And what are you doing here, Ms. Riggs?” Mark asked, his tone playful. “Doing a little catching up?”

  “I tried to. One of my aunt’s friends lives here, but Mable is snoozing so I’ll be back Thursday.” She tried not fidget under his gaze.

  She felt his focus solely on her, and that wasn’t something she was accustomed to. Even in class when everyone was supposed to be paying attention, she knew they didn’t. Mark’s gaze didn’t waver, and she felt like she was the only one in his world.

  “That’s nice.” He nodded. “It’s great that you’re jumping right back into Flathead Falls.”

  “Yeah, I think so,” she replied.

  “I suppose you walked again?” he asked, maintaining eye contact even as he gathered up the tools and plastic covered manual beside him.

  “I sure did. I thought I might as well make the most of this Indian summer we’re having.”

  He nodded again, and she loved how expressive he was. With Mark, she didn’t have to look deeper because she didn’t think there was a next layer on him; he was just a genuinely caring, playful man. Simple in the best way.

  “I’m through here for now. Can I give you a ride home?” he asked.

  “Are you sure I wouldn’t be out of your way?” she replied, watching his eyes light up at the slight flirt in her voice. It was so nice to tease.

  “Darlin’ the city is twenty blocks total.” His voice was all smooth southern drawl and sexy. A shiver ran up her spine as he winked. “And nothing is out of the way when it comes to helping a pretty woman.”

  Ten minutes later, Ben watched as Mark pulled away from the apartment building’s curb. He was so sweet. They’d laughed through the short drive. The entire time they’d sat and cracked each other up, and she’d had the strongest urge just to hold his hand.

  She adjusted her backpack and headed into the apartment, looking briefly at the front window when she remembered wanting a window planter. She made a mental note to talk to the superintendent about it soon. Maybe Mark could help her put something together. He was awful handy.

  What would an hour with him be like? She wondered how quickly holding hands would progress with a man like him. He’d mentioned church a few times and she also had a strong faith, so that made her think he’d court low and slow. Courting, an old word, but as Ben turned her key in the door lock, she thought it suited Mark.

  She flipped on the light switch and the bubbly, bemused feelings she’d indulged most of the day evaporated. An envelope waited on the floor with her name written in elaborate cursive. Ben didn’t lean down or bother to pick it up. She retraced her steps until she returned to the front porch, then pulled out her cellphone and called it in.

  * * * *

  “Uncle Mark, can I eat the chocolate ice cream?”

  Mark swore as the interruption made him jump, his niece breaking his concentration. Thankfully the jerk hadn’t done any damage to the birdhouse or to his fingers. He unplugged the saw and leaned back from the bench.

  “What chocolate ice cream, Kira? I bought vanilla.”

  “It’s double chocolate chip, and it looks good,” she called, and his memory clicked.

  “Ah, wait up, kiddo. I don’t think that’s ours.” He set the birdhouse higher on the counter so it wouldn’t fall and headed into the house.

  The place was a mess, papers strategically placed all over, dishes in the sink, and the floor needed to be swept. With school starting and the hay needing close attention, who had the time?

  He liked things to be neat and tidy but not enough to spend his whole damn day working at it. When the weather was nice and there were chores to be done, inside the house was the last place he wanted to be. He’d clean in the winter when he was stuck for hours on end and the kids were in school.

  “Who else would have ice cream in the freezer?” Kira
demanded, standing up straight from where she’d been bent over the open chest freezer on the front porch.

  She was out of her school clothes and into cutoff jean shorts and a yellow half t-shirt she called a baby-t. He didn’t complain, not yet anyway. He figured he’d save it for a few years down the road when that sort of shirt meant something more than his little girl was hot and the air conditioner was acting up.

  “Well, I think it belongs to Ms. Riggs, Thomas’s chemistry teacher.” Mark plucked the box from her hand and looped the other ice cream tub’s red handle over her skinny wrist instead. “I gave her a ride home the other night and she must have forgotten it, so paws off, squirt.”

  “Uncle Mark, you’re so weird.” Her tone was a little sassy, but she stopped short of rolling her eyes.

  He was glad her manners were finally coming back. Since she’d come home from France, she’d been an eye-rolling, back-talking little heathen. It had taken a few bouts of chair guarding in the corner, but she’d straightened up relatively quickly and was back to being the girl he’d raised.

  He walked through the kitchen and to the living room. The air conditioner hummed and did its job in the little space, but it was days like this that made him want to put in central air. It was on the to-do list right after finishing the basement and putting in a new chicken coop.

  “Hey, Thomas?” Mark called up the stairs. The narrow staircase was more humid than the other rooms put together, but Thomas still preferred to do his homework in his room rather than at the table like he had as a kid.

  “Yeah?”

  “Where’s the paper your chemistry teacher sent home?” he asked.

  “What do you need?” The squeak from Thomas’s office chair announced he was moving for the request.

  “Ms. Riggs’s phone number. I gave her a ride, and she forgot her ice cream.”

  Thomas’s tall, lanky frame nearly filled the narrow enclave of the staircase. He bypassed his sister’s side room and hung from the pull-up bar he’d begged for years ago. “Here you go. Ice cream, huh? Are you sure you don’t like her or something?”