“And what makes you think that?”
“If I go into that office, the principal is going to be a bear for the rest of the day.
He’ll be on a rampage, and you’ll have to put up with a lot of abuse.
Better for both of us if I don’t go in there.”
She lifted the pad of tardy slips and waved them under his nose.
“I’ll give you one of these... after you talk to the principal.
Go right in.
I’ll buzz him to let him know you’re on your way.”
With slumped shoulders, Jack slowly walked to the door.
His hand rested on the knob for several seconds.
He sighed before twisting it.
One quick push and he was inside.
There was only one problem.
The principal wasn’t at his desk chugging pink antacid and muttering over a stack of paperwork.
He was on the floor behind his desk.
His sock-covered feet peeked out at Jack.
Jack forcefully tore his eyes from the confusing sight to look back at the secretary.
“Uh…I think you should come in here.”
Ms.
Klecki
rolled her eyes at him.
She hurried across the room and entered the office without the slightest hesitation.
A scream immediately abandoned her throat.
Another followed.
She ran back to her desk in a frantic dance and picked up the phone to call for an ambulance.
Isobel joined him.
“I wonder what happened to Hardwick.”
Jack heard a few students and teachers outside the office rapidly firing questions at the harried secretary.
Silver’s voice was among them.
Jack wanted to go to her, grab onto her arm, anchor himself back to reality, but he couldn’t get his feet to cooperate.
Ms.
Klecki
said, “I think the principal is dead.”
A round of gasps and one horrified shriek followed the statement.
Another round of questions began.
Then Ms.
Klecki
could be heard on the phone talking to the emergency dispatcher.
She ordered an ambulance.
Isobel left Jack’s side.
She circled the desk and looked down at the principal.
Her expression didn’t falter.
She whistled between her teeth.
She returned to Jack, twisted amusement written all over her facial features.
“Someone sure sliced and diced him.
Looks like he made the wrong person mad.”
Jack pressed his lips together, refusing to talk to her.
He walked out of the principal’s office and saw the shocked look on Silver’s face.
A cloud of suspicion darkened her eyes.
He couldn’t believe it.
She didn’t trust him.
How could she think he’d killed the principal?
As he passed her, she opened her mouth to say something to him, but he didn’t want to hear it.
She didn’t trust him, so he had nothing to say to her.
Inside his head he heard the last nail bang into the coffin that had been their relationship.
If he pictured it, he’d see Silver with the hammer in her hand.
******
Chapter Nine:
BLANCA
The police had a lot of questions.
As soon as they finished with Jack, they told him to go home.
Silver wanted him to follow her to the mansion so they could set the trap for Isobel, but she was the last person he wanted to be around.
She thought he’d killed the principal.
How could he ever forget the look on her face when she’d seen him step out of the man’s office?
Jack went home by himself.
The school was being shut down for at least a week while the police investigated Hardwick’s death.
Jack had no idea what he was going to do during that time.
He mentally crossed Silver off his list of options.
Spending time with someone who thought him capable of murder didn’t seem like a whole lot of fun.
His faithful cat met him at the door or so it seemed.
He was going to reach down to pet her, but Blanca strutted by him, tail in the air.
She was in one of her moods.
In case he’d missed the attitude the first time, she turned around and repeated the strut, passing in front of him a second time.
It would have been funny if he wasn’t in a black mood already.
He went upstairs to check on his brother, but Billy wasn’t home.
Had Billy spent the night at Mary’s house?
A bad feeling twisted Jack’s gut every time he thought about the mystery woman.
His brother could be in danger and not even know it.
What was the matter with him?
Billy needed to think with his head and not his heart.
A few minutes after looking into Billy’s empty bedroom, Jack warmed up a bowl of stew downstairs in the kitchen.
Blanca jumped up on the snack bar while Jack was spreading butter on a slice of bread.
The cat meowed in a plaintive tone, wanting to be fed.
“I guess it’s just you and me tonight,” he said.
He opened a nearby cabinet and checked out the selection of cat food.
“You want tuna or chicken for dinner?”
Blanca leaped off the bar.
She rubbed against his leg and purred like the sweet engine in his new car.
Laughing, he bent over and scooped the cat off the floor in one hand.
She continued to purr as he rubbed her furry white head.
Her glittering green eyes looked at everything but him.
“Are you up to something?” he asked.
Jack lifted the cat to his eye level, forcing her to look at him.
She didn’t appear to be happy about it.
Any second she would hiss and scratch him if he didn’t put her down.
He lowered her to the ground quickly before opening a can of chicken.
The second it was in front of her, she began to hiss.
“What’s wrong with you now?”
Her eyes were on the foyer.
Although he didn’t hear anything, Jack knew they had an uninvited guest.
He wondered who it could be.
Maybe Silver had come to apologize.
Blanca didn’t like their resident werewolf killer.
Silver was the only human Blanca hissed at on a regular basis.
Jack reluctantly went to the door.
He took a deep breath before pulling it open, but Silver wasn’t standing on his porch.
It was Ian Carver.
The man had his fist raised, ready to knock.
A surprised look crossed the new teacher’s face.
He cleared his throat before saying, “May I come in?”
Everything inside of Jack screamed at him to slam the door shut.
Blanca had hissed.
The possibility that this man was a werewolf didn’t fail to cross Jack’s mind.
It wasn’t out of the question.
Hadn’t the previous English teacher been one?
Jack took a few slow steps to the side and allowed Carver to enter.
His eyes stayed glued to the teacher.
They didn’t waiver, not for a second.
By silent mutual agreement they made their way to the living room.
Once there, Carver decided to remain standing.
“It occurred to me that you might be interested in hearing the news.
I was just appointed as acting principal until they find someone to permanently take the position.”
Jack’s insides grew cold.
“Oh yeah?”
“Being such, I have decided that you may take my Advanced Literature class and graduate in a timely manner.
Since I am standing in for Principal Hardwick I can sign the consent form.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
The dark suit Carver wore looked out of place in the small, cluttered living room, and the man seemed ill at ease as he added, “I am here to inform you about the class.
Nothing more.
I’m quite certain it’s been weighing on your mind.”
Why didn’t Jack believe him?
“Teachers make house calls now?”
“You mean Jersey Clifford never came here to see you?”
Ian Carver made a face.
“I find that hard to believe given what I’ve heard about your close friendship with him.”
There it was again, the veiled innuendos about his relationship to the werewolf teacher.
There was something wrong with the way Ian Carver watched him, as if he knew exactly who and what Jack was and was waiting for Jack to slip up.
Carver didn’t just look at Jack. He sized him up, testing him on every occasion for—what,
some
weakness he could exploit?
Jack said, “The last time I talked to you, you were adamant about not helping me.”
“And you were equally adamant about getting into my advanced class.”
“I guess I’m just surprised at your change of heart.”
Not to mention disturbed.
His eyes wandered the room, searching for anything he could use as a weapon should the need arise.
All of the heavy artillery was in the secret room, just beyond his reach.
There was a lamp, his baseball trophies, and a few other miscellaneous items that he might be able to use.
Carver shrugged.
“If you no longer care about graduating on time, it is entirely your business.
I was trying to do you a favor.”
Jack stood shock-still as the teacher abruptly headed for the door.
Everything in him told him not to trust the Englishman, but he was caught in a trap.
There wasn’t really a choice to be made here.
He had to take the class.
If he didn’t, he wouldn’t graduate.
Jack blinked.
The foyer was empty, door open, and Carver was gone.
Jack hurried to catch the teacher before he reached his car, but when he ran outside he found Carver waiting on the porch.
Although the man didn’t smile, there was a spark of triumph in his eyes.
He thought he had Jack exactly where he wanted him... and maybe he did.
“I’ll take the class,” Jack said with reluctance.
“Good show.
I would like the first three reports on my desk by the end of next week.
Think you can manage?”
“No problem.”
“Very well then.
Goodnight.”
Carver headed for his car.
He walked slowly with hesitant steps as if he wanted to say something else.
The keys were in his hand, but he didn’t use them.
Instead, he turned around and forced a smile.
It didn’t reach his eyes.
“Other than school, how have you been doing, Jack?”
Jack faltered, stunned by the unexpected concern in the teacher’s voice.
Or maybe it wasn’t concern.
Maybe it was something else.
Jack stepped off the porch before answering because he didn’t want to yell.
However, he was cautious about getting too close to the other man.
“I’m fine.
Why do you ask?”
“You live out here alone with your brother?
Is that right?”
He nodded.
“Yeah.
So?”
“How is Billy getting on these days?”
Carver said Billy’s name as if he knew him.
Either that or he’d heard so much about Billy he felt he knew him.
Question was who had told Carver about the Creed boys and their situation, and how much did the man know?
Jack chose his words carefully.
There was a dark feeling in the air, the feeling of a trap being set.
If Jack wasn’t careful, the trap could snap shut on him.
He shrugged, trying to sound casual.
“He’s fine.
We both are.
Why do you care?”
The teacher’s mouth turned slightly at the ends.
Ian wore the same annoyingly amused expression that Jersey and Isobel often taunted him with.
The man could definitely be a werewolf.
He climbed into his car without answering Jack’s question.
After years spent as a vampire and returning to his childhood home to relive old memories, Jack knew what deep yearning looked like.
Carver had lost a piece of his soul somewhere along the road.
Jack swallowed hard, watching the taillights fade in the distance.
Oh yeah, that man had secrets, secrets that somehow involved Jack.
But what could they possibly be?
******
It was two hours later when Silver’s car roared to a stop in front of his house.
Jack was in the middle of an old Hitchcock movie when he heard the engine shut off.
He grabbed the remote, muted the movie, and stretched his arms and back before going to the door.
No longer angry with Silver for thinking the worst of him, he was anxious now to talk to her about what had happened earlier.
Maybe they could put their heads together and figure out who had killed the principal.
The death could be unrelated to their work.
A human might have done the deed, but somehow Jack figured it had to be a supernatural creature.
He opened the door before Silver made it up the porch steps
She stepped inside, a hesitant smile on her lips.
“I wasn’t sure you would want to see me, but I had to come.”
“We need to talk.”
“Okay.
Maybe you should go first then.”
The cat ran in through the open door.
Jack hadn’t even noticed she was gone.
Blanca let out a ferocious yowl that drew all eyes to her.
She shot off like a bolt of lightning, streaking up the stairs in a split-second.
“What in the heck was that about?” Silver asked.
“I don’t know.
She’s been pissed lately.”
“Sometimes you talk about her like she’s a person.”
Silver grinned and pinched his chin.
“I think it’s cute.”
“Great.”
He rolled his eyes.
“The girl of my dreams thinks I’m cute.”
Silver laughed.
It was probably the first genuine laugh he’d heard come out of her in several days.
She said, “Being cute isn’t the end of the world.
Anyway, I think something might be wrong with your cat.
You should take her to the vet.
Sometimes cats get moody when they don’t feel good.”
He pushed his hands into his jean pockets and followed Silver into the living room.
Once there, he purposely changed the subject.
“I had a visit from the new teacher today.
Do you think he could be a werewolf?”
“No.”
She made a face at him, but it was gone so fast that he didn’t have time to label it.
Her eyes didn’t meet his.
She was hiding something too.
“I’m a hundred percent positive he is not a werewolf.
My necklace doesn’t burn around him for one thing.”
“It didn’t burn around Jersey either.
Not to mention numerous others.
The list keeps growing by the day.
I'm beginning to wonder if that stupid thing has ever worked.”
She sat on the couch and folded her rose-colored sweater in half.
It rested on her lap.
She picked at it, refusing to meet his gaze as she said, “Stop being so paranoid.”
Jack trusted Silver’s intuition, at least to a point.
An awkward tension settled over the room.
Things used to be so easy between them.
These days it seemed they were growing further and further apart.
He didn’t know what to do to stop it.
He opened his mouth to tell her he missed the way things used to be.
There was a loud commotion upstairs as if someone was ransacking his room.
Jack’s eyes went to the ceiling.
A lump lodged in his throat.
Billy wasn’t home.
Either he had an intruder or Blanca had gone on a on a rampage.
He wasn’t sure which would be worse.