Wedding Bell Blues (23 page)

"Long before this
unpleasantness
,
as you put it, began, I scheduled today and tomorrow off because of my
sister's wedding. I am taking those two days. Come Monday morning, I'll
be back to work. However, I will make one promise. If the police feel
there is any danger at all, I will not return. I assume that will
satisfy you. If not, then I suggest we take this to Administration and
let them decide."

Now it was my turn to stand my ground, all but daring her to
call my
bluff. Instead, she looked at me in undisguised frustration and anger.
She turned on her heel to leave the room, only to draw up short. Her
shoulders sagged and it wasn't hard to guess why. Not when more than
half a dozen of my fellow teachers had gathered near the doorway.

Peterson
threw a look of undisguised malice at me before squaring her shoulders.
Without a word, she drew herself up to her full height of five feet one
inch and marched out of the room. The moment she disappeared from
sight, I blew out a breath and sagged against the edge of my desk,
shaking my head. If I hadn't been on her shit list before, I most
certainly was now.

"You've got plenty of witnesses, Jess, to what she tried to
do,"
Lynn said as she slipped into the classroom, closing the door behind
her. As she did, I saw the others slowly making their way back to their
rooms. "They're going to write up what they saw and make sure I get
copies. And you can thank Missy for letting me know what was going on."

"Yeah. I just hope Peterson doesn't realize she's the one who
warned
you guys. If she does, Missy won't be allowed in the building again.
Damn it, Missy would already have a job here if it wasn't for that
bitch."

"Easy, Jess. You leave the politics of this to me. That's part
of my
job as union rep here." She gave me a conspiratorial grin as she patted
my arm. "Believe me, word of this will reach the right ears downtown.
Now, finish getting your things together and get out of here. And don't
worry. Auntie Lynn will make sure nothing else happens."

Laughing, trusting Lynn to do exactly what she promised, I
finished
packing up the papers I needed to grade. After a quick conversation
with Missy, one in which neither of us spoke about how she'd made sure
the troops had gathered round to ensure Peterson knew that I had not
only witnesses to what she was doing but witnesses who were willing to
talk about it if need be, I closed my shoulder bag and started out of
the classroom. I knew Missy would do a good job preparing my students
for their exams. Still, I missed being in the classroom and could
hardly wait for Monday to arrive so I could return to the job I loved.

Early as it was, there were a few students already wandering
the
hallways, some going to their lockers, others to see teachers for help
with assignments. A few called out greetings to me, making me feel
better. Ten years teaching, the last four at this school, had taught me
a number of things. One of them was that high schoolers would
studiously ignore you if they didn't like you or if they thought they
were in trouble with you. The fact that these students were going out
of their way to greet me, to ask how I was and when I'd be back in the
classroom, reassured me that I had to be doing something right.

Until I turned the corner and came face to face with one of my
students, one I thought I had a fairly good rapport with. He turned
from his locker and, as he caught sight of me, froze. For one moment,
he looked just like a deer caught in the headlights. His eyes went wide
and his face lost all color. In fact, it looked like he thought he'd
just seen a ghost. Then, as quickly as the thought formed, he grinned
and slammed his locker, slinging his backpack over his left shoulder
and stepping forward.

"Hey, Ms. Jones, they said you weren't going to be back until
Monday."

"They said right, Joey. I just came by to pick up a few
things."

"Well, it's good to see you. Be better when you're back in
class."
With that, he turned and hurried down the hall in the opposite
direction, pausing once to look over his shoulder, his expression once
more troubled.

It was probably nothing. Hell, knowing Joey, he was probably
worried
about me grading his latest test before the upcoming football game.
Like several other members of the team, he was skating very close to
the edge of the eligibility requirements for grades and, with me out of
the classroom, had probably slacked off enough to put his eligibility
in jeopardy. Well, one thing all the athletes, and the coaches for that
matter, knew, I wouldn't cut him any slack. I didn't go out of my way
to fail the athletes, but I also didn't believe in the free pass for
them just because they played football or any other sport.

Yeah, I know. It's sacrilege for a teacher at a Texas high
school to
feel that way. So sue me. I knew too many kids like Joey who played
sports in high school and college, just barely skirting through because
some teacher turned a blind eye to their grades. Too many of those same
kids then found themselves out in the cold when they couldn't make it
on the pro level. The way I saw it, it was my duty to give them at
least the basic foundation to allow them to find a meaningful job
outside of sports if their dreams of being a pro star fell through.

I finally made my way back to the parking lot. Colton was
standing
beside the car, doing his best to look nonchalant, but not being very
successful about it. Well, to be honest, I'm probably the only one who
could see the tension and frustration tightening the features of his
face. Still, he'd kept his promise to stay there and not come looking
for me. For that, he got high marks, especially since I'd been gone
longer than planned.

"Everything all right?" he asked as we drove off.

"Everything except the fact my principal is a Class A bitch
and is
trying to use what's been happening to keep me out of the school, more
or less permanently."

Colton braked at the parking lot entrance and shifted in his
seat to look at me. "Tell me you're kidding."

"No. In fact, to quote her, she'd like me to stay away until
'this
unpleasantness' is dealt with." I almost spat out the words as the
anger I'd held in check threatened to come spewing out. "I promised her
that, unless the police - namely you - said it's too dangerous for me
to return to work, I'd be at my desk Monday morning."

"Jessie, I promise, even if I have to sit through your classes
with
you, you'll be back in the classroom Monday." Funny, seeing him almost
as upset about what that woman said as I was did me good. Especially
since I know how much he hated all things high school.

"Thanks." I reached over and gave his hand a quick squeeze. I
wasn't
ready yet to show any other public form of affection on school grounds,
not until I knew for sure where our relationship - if we even had a
relationship - was going. "Now, I guess you'd best take me to my
parents'. At least you get to run away to the safety of the police
station instead of facing the combined questioning of my mother and
sister."

That earned me a smile, one I almost felt like returning.
Hopefully,
by the time we reached my parents', my good humor would have returned.
The last thing I needed or wanted was to have to explain to Mom and
Maryanne that I wasn't upset with Colton, that my anger was firmly
directed at the woman who held my future at my job in her hands.
What a wonderful way to start the day.

Half an hour later, I watched, coffee mug in one hand, as
Colton
drove away. A slight smile touched my lips as I did. Not only hadn't we
been subjected to my mother's knowing looks and my father's
none-too-subtle attempts to make sure I was okay, but Maryanne had
assured us that they'd left for early rounds with nothing more than
good-morning greetings for us. Of course, that didn't mean they
wouldn't subject me to a barrage of questions when they got home -
well, to be honest, it would more likely be my mother to do the
interrogation - still, it was a nice relief, especially after my
conversation with Mamie Peterson.

But that still left Maryanne. I knew that, as soon as I
turned,
she'd start asking questions I wasn't ready to answer. Not that I
minded. If our positions were reversed, I'd be the one asking the
questions. That's what sisters are for. Still, if her questions became
too uncomfortable, it should be easy enough to distract her. All I'd
have to do was mention the wedding. Then I could lean back and relax
until she ran down, probably about the time Mom and Dad returned from
work.

Not that relaxing was actually on the agenda for the day.
After a
late breakfast with Maryanne and yet another attempt to make sure
everything was absolutely, positively ready for the wedding, I met with
the insurance investigator assigned to the fire at my house. At least
he didn't seem to be operating under the delusion that I might have had
something to do with it. I know better than to knock a police
investigator on her ass, but I'm not sure I would have had the same
compunction where the insurance investigator was concerned.

I certainly didn't trust myself not to deck him when I still
wanted
to do exactly that to my principal. So it really was a good thing he
showed the common sense God gave a gnat and kept any suspicions he
might have from me.

Not that my temper was eased any by the call that followed.
Detective Davalos had "a few more questions." I answered her questions
even though I wanted to strangle her with her own tongue. Maybe I was
being over-sensitive. Or maybe she was just a bitch. Whatever the
reason, I was more than glad to hang up, assuring her before I did that
I'd be available for any other questions she might have.

Then there were the crime scene techs who returned to examine
the
front yard one more time. At first, they wouldn't tell Maryanne or me
why they were there or what they were looking for. Still, it wasn't all
that hard to figure out when they carefully checked the front of the
house, their hands moving over the brick as though looking for anything
out of the ordinary. Then there was the way they checked the tree
trunks. Afterwards, they moved back and forth across the lawn, metal
detectors sweeping left to right as they moved. Watching them, I was
reminded of those infomercials - you know the ones I mean - those ads
guaranteeing you can find that hidden treasure in your own backyard or
at the beach if you just buy the biggest, bestest metal detector that
they sell. Oh, and if you do, you can use their three-easy-payments
plan, but don't forget to add in shipping and handling.

So, whether they wanted to admit it or not, they had to be
looking
for the bullets fired at Colton and me. Strange they hadn't found them
yesterday during their investigation. It was even more strange that
they couldn't find some trace of them now. But, given the way my luck
had been going, we were probably dealing with the same sort of
disappearing bullets that the conspiracy theorists had long figured
played a part in the Kennedy assassination.

"Jessie, are you all right?" Maryanne asked softly as we stood
at
the front window, watching the crime-scene van slowly pull away from
the house. At least they'd taken down the yellow crime-scene tape that
had roped off the front yard.

I turned, ready to reassure her, only to bite back a curse of
frustration. I'd forgotten, in my own worry and anger, how all this
must have been affecting her. Now, seeing the worry reflected on her
expression, the dark shadows under her eyes, anger spiked. Damn it! It
wasn't supposed to be like this. This was supposed to be the happiest
time of Maryanne's life. She should be looking forward to her wedding.
She was supposed to be nervous and giddy and all that. What she wasn't
supposed to be was worried about me.

And believe you me, when I found out who was responsible for
putting those shadows under her eyes, I'd make them pay.

But that had to wait. Right now, the most important thing I
could do
was reassure her so she could focus on what was really important - her
wedding to Brett.

"I'm fine, Tink." I grinned mischievously, knowing she'd react
to her nickname.

"Relieved
they took down the yellow tape out front. I know Mama would have
figured out a way to integrate it into the decorations for the
festivities, but I wasn't looking forward to helping her do it."

"Good God, no." She laughed gaily, her eyes twinkling. "I
don't even
want to think about how she'd manage to do it, either. I have this
horrible vision of me walking down the aisle with a ribbon made out of
crime-scene tape adorning my wedding gown."

"Well, look at it this way, little sister. You'd certainly
have a one-of-a-kind gown then."

And it would almost - almost - be as outlandish as the
harlequin dress I'd be wearing.

"Are you sure you won't stay for dinner?" Mom asked yet again
as
Colton and I tried to slip out the front door without being too obvious
about it.

Maybe I should rephrase that. After all, there was no way to
actually slip out the door without being obvious about it, not when she
was standing right there. What we, or at least I, didn't want was to be
obvious about the why we were trying desperately to leave. True, Colton
did need to get his tux fitted for the wedding. Yes, I was tired and
wanted to rest. But the real reason, and the one reason we dared not
voice, was that we wanted away from there before Mom started playing
matchmaker.

To be honest, there was another reason I wanted out of there.
I was
dying to know what Colton could tell me about the investigation. After
all, he'd promised to talk to me about it once home. That was one
promise I meant to hold him to. Especially since I knew he wouldn't
talk about it in front of my parents and Maryanne, who was, at the
moment, on her cell phone to Brett, worrying because he wasn't already
at the house.
Most of all, I was simply tired of someone asking every five minutes if
I was all right. It had been bad enough during the day with just
Maryanne there. But, once my parents returned home, it became almost
unbearable. I needed some space, badly, and Colton would give it to me.