Take a Chance on Me (19 page)

They rounded the corner of the building and walked behind the portable classrooms set into the hillside. The boy scuttled into the shadows between the buildings, eyes darting from side to side as if afraid of being overheard.

Tom reached out and touched Greg lightly on the shoulder. He kept his gaze calm and steady. “First, why don’t you take a deep breath,” he suggested.

“I don’t have time.” The boy pulled away, pacing back and forth in the chill night air. “It’s probably already too late.”

A deep sense of foreboding settled in Tom’s gut. “Too late for what?” When the boy didn’t answer, he reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him back around. “Too late for what?” he repeated.

“He said he couldn’t live without her,” he blurted, shoving a hank of hair off of his face.

“Who said?” Fear and adrenaline coiled in his stomach like twin rattlers preparing to strike. “Greg, you have to give me more to go on.”

The boy looked at him with haunted eyes. He sucked in a breath and then blurted out, “Mark freaked out when he heard Lisa asked Scooby to Tolo. He’s here, and he has a gun.”

Chapter Twelve

For one brief, devastating moment, Tom was sucked back into his worst nightmare. A gun—a relationship gone bad—a moment too late. His mind whirling, he forced himself to focus on the panicked young man in front of him.

“Where is he?” Tom spoke slowly and clearly, trying to calm the boy. “Tell me where he is.”

Greg shoved his hands in his pockets. “He was heading in from the parking lot.”

“Go back to the dance and stay there,” he ordered. Tom took off at a dead run, gaze focused intently on the entrance to the cafeteria. Everything appeared normal for a school dance. His eyes scanned the exterior of the building. No shadows lurked, no figures pushed their way back into the school.
Too late, too late
, his mind taunted him.

As he drew closer, he slowed until he was merely striding at a brisk pace. The last thing he wanted to do was call attention to himself, raising suspicions and frightening the students. Panic would only make the situation worse.

He walked inside the double doors, searching out the dark pockets of the room. No lurking figures, no obvious trouble spots. But he knew from experience that sometimes trouble happened where you least expected it. Sighting Celeste, he walked swiftly to her side and placed a hand on her elbow.

“Yes?” Outwardly, Celeste’s expression was calm, but Tom had worked with her long enough to know she had picked up on his tension.

Tom leaned forward, lowering his voice so he wouldn’t be overheard. “I need your cell phone.”

If she was confused by his request, it didn’t show. She dug in her purse and handed him the phone. “What’s going on?”

He dropped his voice even more. “Possible weapon on campus. Mark O’Brien. Keep an eye out but do not approach. Witness is heading in from the parking lot now. If you find Lisa Dolan get her to a safe location, but try not to panic the rest of the students. The last thing we need is kids noticing that something’s up.”

She nodded briefly and turned back to the dance floor, eyes scanning the teeming crowd. Tom flipped open the phone and dialed 911 as he headed back out the door.

Greg was standing in the entryway to the dance, which meant one less thing to worry about. Tom gave the emergency operator the specifics and clicked the phone off again, tucking it in his pocket. Greg was watching him with a worried expression.

“Is Mark going to be in a lot of trouble?”

Tom crossed his arms. “If he really has brought a gun on campus, yes. But if we can keep the situation from escalating, hopefully it won’t mess up the rest of his life.”

If he has a rest of his life, that is. Please, God, don’t let another kid die.

He looked at Greg. “Do you have any idea at all where Mark could be?”

Greg thought for a minute, his nose scrunching up with the effort. “You might try the theater. He seemed to like working on the play. And he’s got a key since he’s the stage manager.”

The theater. Had Jessica ever returned to the dance? Tom ruthlessly forced down the wave of panic that threatened to wash over him. Maybe Mark was somewhere else. Maybe Jessica had gone to her classroom, or the staff lounge, or even left early. There was no reason to think she was in danger.

He had to hold on to the belief that she was safe. He’d already lived through one nightmare and had finally started to forgive himself. If anything happened to Jessica, forgiveness would not be an option.

She hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. A strip of tiny orange marker lights, added at her insistence when she started rehearsals, glowed from the end of each row. They gave enough illumination to walk down the steps without tripping. She’d found a seat near the back of the theater, and in the twenty or so minutes since she’d slipped inside, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness.

Still, when the door next to the light booth opened, she couldn’t identify the person standing in the entryway. “Tom?” she asked quietly, not sure who else would be wandering around the building during the dance. The only answer was silence.

A shadowy figure slipped into the room, backlit by the emergency hall lighting. The person was too slight to be Tom, Jessica realized, suddenly nervous at how vulnerable she was. Alone in the theater—and she hadn’t bothered to tell anyone where she was going. “Hello?” she said, louder this time.

“I thought it would be empty,” a low voice mumbled, and Jessica almost slumped down in her chair as she recognized Mark’s voice.

“I hope you’re not looking for a romantic getaway with your date,” she teased. “Theater’s off limits for tonight.”

He stood next to the lighting booth, one shoulder leaning up against the utilitarian wall. “I don’t have a date,” he replied, a note of anger in his voice.

“Oh,” she said, a little puzzled. “Then why…?”

“I can’t believe she asked him out!” Mark pushed away from the wall, pacing back and forth in the cramped space between the doorway and the last row of seats. “My God, what was she thinking?”

Jessica nodded slowly, sympathy welling up. “You heard about Lisa and Scooby.”

“I have been waiting for her for six years. Six. I mean, it’s not like she didn’t know I was interested. I rearranged my whole life just so I could be near her. But all I ever heard was, ‘I’m not looking for a relationship’. She said she only wanted to be friends. But I waited, because I thought, you know, if she changed her mind…” He groaned and dropped into the nearest seat, burying his face in his hands.

“If she changed her mind, you’d be there,” Jessica supplied, her heart aching at the pain evident in the young man.

“But all that didn’t matter. She said she didn’t want a relationship, but what she really meant is that she didn’t want a relationship with me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jessica said softly, wishing she could do more, say more. “It’s always tough when you care for someone and they don’t feel the same way.”

“You don’t understand,” he muttered. “Nobody understands what I’m going through.”

Jessica was silent. She did understand, but she knew he wasn’t ready to hear it. He needed to vent, to grieve, to be the center of someone’s attention for a while. She stood and walked over to where Mark was sitting. She knelt down next to him and waited for him to continue.

“I can’t do it,” Mark mumbled. “I can’t come to school and watch the two of them together. I just can’t.”

“It’ll be hard,” Jessica said. “But you’ll get through it. You have friends, you’ve got the play to keep you busy…”

“No. No way. I can’t spend every afternoon in the same place as her. Not a chance.”

“Don’t give up now,” she insisted. “Let’s see if we can work things out. Maybe we can schedule you to work on days she’s not rehearsing. You’re an important part of this show, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, scuffing his shoe along the marker lights. His jacket gapped open as he slumped even further into his seat.

Jessica stifled a gasp as she glimpsed a flash of silver in the inside pocket of his jacket. Now she knew just how hopeless he thought the situation was. Mark was carrying a gun.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Tom said, placing a calming hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We’re going to find Ms. Winters. You and she are going to wait out front for the police.” His grip tightened as the boy tensed. “You’re not in trouble, Greg. But you’re a witness, and the police will want to ask you some questions.”

“Oh, geez,” Greg moaned. “Mark is going to kill me.”

Tom swallowed hard. “I’ll check the theater to see if Mark’s there,” he continued. “If you think of anything else, tell Ms. Winters or the police. Got it?”

The boy nodded, his face pinched and miserable. Tom patted him on the shoulder and moved forward, motioning to Celeste. She walked briskly over to them, tension visible in her shoulders.

“Greg has some information for the police,” Tom said. “Would you stay with him until they arrive?” At her nod, he walked back into the building.

Gabriella pounced the moment he walked through the door, wrapping her hand around his elbow and pulling him close. “You just keep running off, you bad boy. I want one more dance.”

“Not now,” he growled, tugging his arm from her grasp.

She pouted, crossing her arms under her ample bosom. But before she could protest, the sound of sirens cut through the temporary lull in the music.

The students closest to the door turned around slowly, concentrating more on their conversations than the noise outside. But as the sirens drew closer, followed by the flash of red and blue lights, a crowd jammed the doorway.

“What’s going on, Tom?” Gabriella had grabbed his arm again, and even if she hadn’t he wouldn’t have been able to fight the crush of rubberneckers penning him in on all sides.

“Move back!” His voice cut through the babble, quieting the crowd surrounding him. Even Gabriella voluntarily let go of his arm. “Please step back from the door!”

“Thank you,” a uniformed officer replied as he pushed through the crowd. “We need this area cleared immediately.”

Tom’s heart was beating triple time, urging him to run, get into the school, to find Jessica and make sure she was safe. But he knew the students could easily panic if order wasn’t established right away.

He recognized the police officer as one who’d been to the school before, for minor drug offenses and an assault or two. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Hello, Rick.”

“Tom. Did you call this in?”

He nodded, helping to urge the students back inside the cafeteria. “You’ll want to talk to the young man with Ms. Winters out front.”

“Duffy’s with them now,” Rick replied, his attention focused on the teens reluctantly moving away from the doors. “We’ll need to talk to you too. What can you tell me?”

The entryway was cleared, although Gabriella hovered on the periphery. Tom glanced around, teeth clenched. He should be in the theater by now.

Speaking rapidly, he sketched a quick overview of the situation. “I think he’s in the theater. I was on my way there when you showed up.”

“Good thing we did then. I’ll go check out the theater. You remove the students to the parking lot.”

“I know this kid,” Tom protested, but Rick cut him off.

“Stay away from that theater. Let us do our jobs and you do yours.” With a hard look, the officer walked out of the building.

Tom stood rooted to the spot, fists clenching and unclenching as he fought down the surge of anger and frustration threatening to overwhelm him. He couldn’t stop Mark, and he couldn’t protect Jessica.

And the idea of her in danger was the most frightening thought of all.

“What’s going on, Mark?” Jessica winced at the tremor in her voice. She needed to be calm, rational, collected. Mark was unstable enough to bring a gun to a school dance, so she needed to tread carefully so he wouldn’t slip over the edge.

Mark mumbled something, his shoulders hunched inside his oversize jacket. So far, he didn’t seem aware that she had seen the gun.

Jessica clenched her hands at her sides. She frantically searched for something to say—why didn’t they cover this in teacher’s ed? Dimly, she became aware of the wail of sirens growing louder.

Unfortunately, Mark noticed them at the same time. “Damn!” he exploded, leaping up from his chair and charging towards the door. He cracked the door open a bit, and the emergency sirens increased in volume. “Dammit!”

Jessica stood and took an involuntary step backward. “What’s wrong?”

He reached into his jacket and took out the gun. “This is what’s wrong,” he cried, waving the firearm in a wide arc. “I knew I couldn’t trust him. I can’t believe he narced me out!”

“Who?” Jessica stepped back again, trying to avoid the gun’s path. “Mark, why do you have a gun? What’s going on?”

“I wasn’t going to hurt anyone,” he protested, one hand still gesturing with the gun, the other wrenching at his hair as he paced. “I just couldn’t live without her. But now the cops are here. Everything is ruined!”

“No, it’s not,” Jessica soothed, wondering if she would have the guts to wrestle the gun away from him on his next pass. “Everything is going to be okay now. Just put down the gun and let’s go talk to the police.”

“Are you kidding?” Mark shot her an incredulous look. “Bringing a gun on campus is an automatic expulsion. I’ll be out of school for at least a year. I’ll have a criminal record, for God’s sake! Nothing is okay!”

“At least you’re still alive,” she said quietly. “You didn’t hurt anyone, including yourself.”

He stopped in mid-pace and looked at her. His eyes were filled with anguish and fear. Slowly, his shoulders drooped, his hands sliding to his sides.

Jessica drew in a shaky breath and stepped forward, her hand outstretched for the gun. Suddenly, footsteps sounded in the hall outside the theater. Her attention divided, she turned to look at the door.

In that moment, Mark lunged forward and wrapped an arm around her neck. Jessica felt the barrel of the gun bite into her ribs. “Stay back!” he screamed to the closed doors. “I’ve got a hostage. Everybody keep back or she could get hurt!”