Calculated Revenge

Her chest tightened as Miss Aggie closed the door. Laney looked down at her daughter. Now she’d have to tell her about Gracie. It had been difficult to go over the whole thing with the teaching staff a few minutes ago, but those were adults. How could she explain to an eight-year-old that she had an aunt she’d never heard about, much less what had happened to that child?

“Mama, what’s wrong?” Briana’s nostrils pinched above a frown.

Laney settled her daughter into one of the principal’s guest chairs, then eased into the other one. “Bree, I have something to tell you.”

“Is it bad, Mama?”

“Yes, honey, but it’s about something that happened a long time ago. At least, it started then, but I think…I’m afraid…Oh, I don’t know how to say this.”

Briana’s little hand folded around Laney’s. “It’s okay, Mama. You can tell me anything. We’re BFFs.”

“Best Friends Forever. Yes, we are.” Laney wavered a smile at her daughter, whose open gaze radiated innocent trust. Silently, she cursed the evil that had again touched her life and now forced her to violate that innocence with vile news.

God, give me strength. Give me wisdom. She filled every air passage with fortifying oxygen. “I need to tell you a story about a little girl your age.”

In halting, terse statements the tale came out. A flat, angry calm blanketed her words. Briana stared intent and silent into her face as she spoke. When she finished telling about Grace, Bree nodded, expression sober.

“I would have liked Grace.” A soft smile flashed. “I’m excited to meet her in heaven.”

“You would have liked her a lot, and you’ll get the chance to meet her one day.” Laney got down on her knees and hugged her sweet daughter, then put her at arm’s length. “But that’s not the end of the story. Today I—Well, I found something that lets me know that the bad man is back. We need to do certain things to stay safe until he’s caught. That’s why Mr. Ryder let us be in his office.”

Briana’s eyes widened. “Principal Ryder’s going to look out for us?”

“In a way. He’s arranging things with people in the school so everyone can be safe.”

Briana nodded. “That’s good. I like Principal Ryder.”

“Yes, we can trust him.” She’d only known Noah Ryder for this school year, but she knew that with every fiber of her being. Besides, he couldn’t have planted the backpack. He wasn’t outside during recess today.

Laney tweaked her daughter’s button nose. “But remember, we can’t trust strangers. I need you to stay with me every minute. Don’t get out of my sight. And if you can’t be with me, I’ll make sure you’re with someone who will take care of you. Do exactly what they say.”

“Don’t worry, Mama.” Her daughter patted Laney’s cheek. “God’s watching over us.”

The depth of faith in the simple statements stole Laney’s breath. Where was her faith? It sure wasn’t very strong in this area. She struggled to believe God would—not could—keep them safe from this monster? Why hadn’t He protected Gracie?

Why didn’t you? A small voice accused.

A rap on the door brought her head around. Noah sidled halfway inside. His questioning stare met hers.

Laney rose. “You shouldn’t have to knock to enter your own office.”

“Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t intruding at a bad moment.”

“No, we’re done here.”

“You okay, princess?” His gaze fell toward Briana, who beamed at him. As usual, Noah had said exactly the right thing. Bree’s pink princess pajamas were her favorite.

“I’m fine, Mr. Ryder.” The little girl hopped up. “Mama told me about my Auntie Grace and the bad man who’s come back.” She stepped toward the principal, face tilted up toward him. “I’m glad you’re gonna help keep us safe.”

Noah rendered a half smile. “I’ll do my best.” He looked toward Laney. “Everyone’s gathering in the gymnasium. I’ll escort you to a secure location backstage.”

“We’re ready.” Laney nodded, not at all sure she’d spoken the truth.

She snagged her daughter’s hand and followed on Noah’s heels. As always, his presence enveloped her like a warm security blanket, and she craved more of that feeling. Too bad the principal had made it clear, by fending off more than one unwed teacher’s batted eyelashes, that he wasn’t interested in a work romance, even though there was no rule against it.

They wove through a hallway teeming with children and adults headed for the gym, which doubled as an auditorium in this small school. The masses parted before the school principal, and Laney kept herself and Briana closely in his wake. She caught snatches of agitated speculation in conversations buzzing around her. Soon they went through a doorway and entered the relative calm of the stairwell that gave backstage access. As they climbed the few stairs, the faint scent of resin-coated boards greeted her. Two folding chairs waited in the left wing area between the heavy, velvet curtains. A city police officer hovered nearby.

“I’ll leave you in Deputy Carlson’s capable hands,” Noah told them with a nod toward Laney and a wink at Briana, who warbled a tiny giggle.

“Thank you,” Laney breathed.

Something in her expression must have betrayed that she hovered between petrified and panicked, because he laid his hands on her shoulders. His solid nearness drew her. What would he think if he knew how tempted she was to throw herself into his arms? She kept her gaze averted. Maybe he wouldn’t notice the pulse pumping in her throat.

“You’re doing great, Laney,” he said. Then he leaned closer. His warm breath feathered the hair on the top of her head. “Hang tough. We’re going to get through this.”

She lifted her head, but he’d already turned away. Did he say we? Just how much could she presume on this man?

Laney watched Noah Ryder walk out onto the stage. The muted roar of conversation dimmed, and at his first words, halted.

Butterflies fluttered around inside Laney’s stomach. In a few minutes, every student and staffer would know about the greatest tragedy of her life—a tragedy that now cast a shadow over theirs. In a few hours, the entire town would know. If the flourishing local grapevine hadn’t accomplished that task already.

Who did this murderous pervert think he was? Why had he returned to plague her now, after all these years? How could she, or anyone, possibly keep her daughter safe?

Laney sank onto one of the chairs and pulled Briana onto her lap, hugging her close. Officer Carlson nodded approval. No doubt he assumed she meant to offer comfort to her daughter when the opposite was closer to the truth. Only one of them was trembling, and it wasn’t the child.

Thirty-five minutes after his presentation about what had occurred and its significance for everyone present, Noah finished interviewing the third grade class. The children sat cross-legged on the gym floor with their teachers. Some of the little faces were pale, some flushed—depending on whether they considered this situation frightening or exciting.

Noah thanked the group and unfolded himself from the floor where he’d gotten down on their level to ask his questions. He consulted his notes as he headed for Sheriff Lindoll, who was speaking with a group of sixth graders. So far, the feedback indicated that the backpack had not been on the playground during the first half of recess period when grades kindergarten through three were outside.

The sheriff turned away from his group and met Noah in the middle of the gym floor. “I’ve got credible positives on the bag being seen by students and teachers during the second recess period.”

Noah nodded. “I’ve got the opposite with the younger group. It looks like either the bag was placed during the ten minutes between recess periods or when grades four to six were on the grounds.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Has anyone reported seeing who left it?”

“Negative. But we’re not done talking to people.”

“Yes, you are,” sniped a voice from the past.

Spine stiff, Noah swiveled toward the last man on the planet he ever wanted to see again. “Hello, Special Agent Justin Burns.”

The sheriff’s brows flew up. Was it because Noah knew the FBI agent or because he hadn’t done too well at keeping the sneer out of his tone? Burns hadn’t changed much. Looming middle age had drawn a few more creases on his bulldog face, but the frost-gray eyes were still as cold as a gravestone. As usual, he wore a crisp-pressed suit that made him look like a surly, burly version of Tommy Lee Jones in Men in Black. And the set of his pencil mouth…well, the urge to knock the arrogant expression off that mug hadn’t diminished with time.

“It’s Supervisory Special Agent now,” Burns said, his sneer not hidden, either. “What are you doing here, Ryder? I thought you were retired from bungling investigations.”

Make that urge a compulsion…suppressed. Barely. This time.

Noah stretched his lips into a smile that was as good as a spit. “Tread lightly, Burns. You’re on my territory, and my students’ best interests will be served.”

“This is our school principal.” Hank plunked a hand onto Noah’s shoulder.

Burns barked a laugh. “Nurse-maiding the kiddies, are we?” He turned his attention toward the sheriff. “Make no mistake. We are in charge. We’ll collect whatever information your people have gathered and take the investigation from here. You’ll be informed whenever we need information from you on a local matter, but this case reaches beyond Cottonwood Grove.”

The sheriff’s gaze met Noah’s. He sent Hank a miniscule shrug.

“I can take your team to the backpack,” the sheriff said to Burns.

“No need. The ERTs are already examining the bag and the site. We recognize crime scene tape when we see it.”

“Hooray for the good guys.” Noah looked around the gym. Other agents were joining interview groups or consulting with the city officers. Some even deigned to smile and joke with the local yokels. At least the rest of this federal team didn’t have their ties yanked too tight. Most of them weren’t even wearing one. Or a suit, either. He returned his gaze to Burns. “I wonder if you’re the one.”

The agent drew himself up to his full height, which was a good couple of inches shorter than Noah. “The one what?”

“Miss Thompson mentioned an agent that was involved in the original investigation.”

“Would that be Laney Thompson, the victim’s sister? Where is she? She’s got questions to answer.”

“She and her daughter are backstage. Come with me.” If this guy got out of line with Laney, he’d stop curbing his impulses, even if the swing got him jail time.

“That was very good, sweetie,” Laney told her daughter, who gazed up proudly from the book she was reading aloud.

“Laney Thompson, I need to talk to you!”

The hairs at the base of her neck stood on end as if someone had scraped fingernails across the chalkboard of her mind. Those growled tones were from a long-ago nightmare. She looked up to see Noah, with Special Agent Burns in tow, bearing down on her.

The FBI agent stopped in front of their chairs. “Supervisory Special Agent Justin Burns. I’m told you remember me.” He spoke as if her recollection of him was a matter of pride.

It had taken her a long time to overcome the nightmares featuring the agent’s roughshod interrogation of her as a traumatized child. Burns would have to trample her dead body to do the same thing to Briana.

Laney rose and stared the agent in his pug nose. “What would you like to know? But leave my daughter out of it. This is the first she’s heard about what happened back then, and she wasn’t anywhere near Gracie’s schoolbag.”

Burns looked from Briana back to her. “All grown up and with a kid of your own. We’ll see where the investigation takes us. Is there somewhere we can visit in private?” The agent pointed a look toward Noah, who stood with his arms away from his body, legs slightly apart, as if he’d as soon tackle Burns as look at him.

They glared at one another like familiar enemies. Burns must have worked fast to get on Noah’s bad side so quickly. Then again, the agent had that gift.

“You can use my office,” Noah said. “I’ll escort you.”

“No need.” Burns waved him off. “I’m sure Laney knows where it is.”

“Ms. Thompson.” Laney spoke in unison with Noah. They shared a look, and sparkly fizz shot through her middle at the smile in his eyes. What was the matter with her? Now was so not the time for this hopeless attraction to her boss.

Burns’s jaw firmed. “Very well, Ms. Thompson. Lead the way. And you,” he turned and jabbed a finger toward Noah, “stay out of this investigation.”

Laney drew herself up. “Stay out of this investigation? If your people find any lead worth following it will likely be because of this man’s quick thinking. He secured the scene, alerted the school, organized the interviews—”

“You did what?” Burns put himself in Noah’s personal space. “I might have known you couldn’t keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong. I told the sheriff not to make a move until we arrived.”

“How can you be so obtuse?” Laney burst out. “We need a vicious murderer apprehended, and you instruct your fellow law officer not to employ his intellect, training or experience?” Both men were staring at her now. She was babbling in English-nerdese, but she was on a roll. “If Sheriff Lindoll had listened to you instead of Noah, you’d be hours behind on an investigation that is now well in hand. Accolades are more in order than scorn. And,” she sniffed, “if you need a dictionary to look up any of my verbiage, this school is gifted with an abundance of those.”

“Mommy?” A tap on her side brought her attention to her daughter, who stood clutching her book. “He can use a dictionary from my classroom.”

Silence blanketed the moment, except for the background noise of voices from the gymnasium. A snort turned everyone’s heads. Officer Carlson stood red-faced and grinning from his post behind the folding chairs. A suppressed chuckle came from Noah, whose lips had disappeared between his teeth.

Laney tugged a lock of her daughter’s hair. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re a thoughtful little girl.” Her heart was galloping like a colt let out of the gate. She’d just thoroughly antagonized the man who held the authority in a life or death investigation involving her family. Great going, girl. She tried, but an apology wouldn’t form in her mouth. The man was a grade-A blockhead, but they were stuck with him.

Burns’s subzero gaze surveyed her as if she was a speck of lint. “If your sophomoric tantrum is quite finished, you and I have matters to discuss. And I do want to speak to the child, as well.”

“My daughter’s name is Briana.” She turned her focus on her little girl. “Briana, this is Agent Burns of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Your mommy set a very bad example. We need to respect his authority and position.”

Briana smiled and held out her hand to the agent. “Pleased to meet you, Agent Burns.”

The agent stared at the hand as if he’d been offered a porcupine. Then he slowly took the little member in his. “Good meeting you, too, Briana.” The words came out a bit gruff, but his expression softened.

Noah dipped his head, as if chastened. “I was going to offer to be present during the interview, but I think you can take care of yourself.” He looked at his watch. “I need to arrange for parents and bus drivers to be aware of late school dismissal.” With a small wave, he left the stage in one direction, while Laney motioned Burns to follow her in the other.

On the way to Noah’s office, questions bombarded her mind. What had Burns meant by his statement that he “might have known” Noah couldn’t stay out of the investigation? Had the agent and the principal met before? How? When? And why did the local police chief respect Noah’s advice about the investigation? Who was Noah Ryder, really? The internal gossip den contained sketchy knowledge about the man’s background. He started his teaching career about five years ago in a different school system, then got his principal’s license and took over in Cottonwood Grove two years ago. What had he done before that?

When they arrived at the reception area, Burns dismissed Officer Carlson, and then swept past Miss Aggie without a glance as he took over the lead into the principal’s inner sanctum. He made himself at home in Noah’s big desk chair, pulled a small tape recorder from his pocket and placed it on the edge of the desk. Laney and Briana occupied the guest chairs.

It took only a few minutes for Laney to divulge the story about finding the school bag on the playground, though she kept the panic attack to herself. Burns was a cold, hard facts kind of guy, and she didn’t need to expose her shattered emotions.

Burns spent a few minutes grilling her, then he turned his attention to Briana. “Young lady, have you noticed anyone watching you these past few days or weeks? A stranger? Or someone who shouldn’t be paying you that much attention? Think very hard now. This is important.”

Briana’s brows scrunched together, and she kicked her feet back and forth. Then she shook her head, pigtails flapping.

The agent leaned across the desk. “You’re sure. No one when you’re outside? Or with friends? Or with your mother somewhere? At the store, perhaps?”

“No one,” Briana answered in a small voice.

“How about the playground where the bag was found? Someone watching—”

“Agent Burns,” Laney interrupted, “my daughter has already said no.”

“Yes!” her daughter burst out.

They both gaped at her.

Briana bounced in her seat. “There was a man in a suit.” She screwed up her mouth. “I remember ’cuz I noticed him when my friend Alicia lost her pinky ring under the slide.”

“A man in a suit.” Burns all but sprawled across the desk. “He was watching you?”

“No, not me.”

“Bree,” Laney said, “why didn’t you report this? We’re not supposed to let strangers hang around the playground. Haven’t you learned anything from the lessons Mr. Ryder’s put on about stranger awareness?” Her tone had gone shrill before she finished the sentence.

Her daughter’s lower lip quivered. “But Mommy, he didn’t have mean eyes. More like sad. And he went away as soon as the bell rang and we had to go inside.”

“What did the man look like?” The agent’s palm slapped the desktop.

Laney fried him with a glare. “You are not interrogating a criminal.”

“All right. Okay.” He lifted his hands and settled back in his chair. “Briana,” he gritted between a wooden smile, “would you kindly describe this person to me?”

The little girl shrugged. “He had a suit on, but not the same color as yours. His hair was dark, except for white spots here.” She motioned toward her temples. “And the metal pole on the fence came to here on him.” She sawed her hand back and forth across her upper abdomen.

“Very good, honey.” Laney squeezed her daughter’s arm, then looked at Burns. “The stabilizing pole is about halfway up the fence. That would make our man less than average height—five foot eight or so.”

The man grunted. “Good description, young lady. Now would you mind going with one of my agents while I talk to your mom for a little while?”

Laney shook her head. “I won’t send her with someone she doesn’t know. I want my friend Ellen to be with them.”

Burns hissed out a breath. “Make it happen, but my guy will be in charge. Unless you think one of my agents is the perp.” His sarcasm was sharp enough to scrape paint.

He retrieved a radio from his belt while Laney went to the office door and peered out. The outer area teemed with people, and Miss Aggie was busy at a swamped desk. Some of those hanging around were bus drivers. Laney glanced at the wall clock. School was overdue to be dismissed. On the other side of the area, a tall, dark-haired man waved to her, flashing a big smile. It was Pierce Mayfield, driver of the small city bus that transported several in-town children to and from school. Laney answered with a flutter of the fingers.

Pierce had been flirting with her all year and even asked her out a couple of times. So far she’d turned him down. Not that Pierce wasn’t nice. He was even pretty good-looking. His eyebrows of slightly different heights and vaguely crooked nose gave him an appealingly interesting face. He simply wasn’t a certain school principal who had already captured her attention. Of course, she might do well to give up that hopeless quest and give Pierce a chance. Ellen sure thought so. She’d been trying to get them together all year. And Laney was all for finding a good husband. Briana deserved the daddy she kept praying for…but first, her precious little girl needed to be safe.

A welcome figure stepped into the reception area. Now she didn’t have to ask Miss Aggie to call over the intercom.

“Ellen!” Laney motioned her friend over.

“Oh, girl!” Ellen swept her into big arms, and her lavender scent enveloped Laney.

For a brief instant, she allowed herself to slump into the comfort. Then she pulled away. “Can you go with this agent,” she pointed to the big fellow in a sport coat who’d come up behind Ellen, “and look after Briana?”

“Anything.” Ellen’s brown eyes poured warm honey over Laney. “We’ll hang out in my classroom.”

“Thanks. You’re the best.” Laney squeezed her friend’s hand and called for Briana. “You remember what I told you about minding anyone watching out for you.”

“I will, Mama.”

The little girl skipped off, holding Ellen’s hand and trailed by Hulk Hogan’s clone with a buzz cut.

Laney closed the office door and returned to her hot seat in front of Agent Burns.

The agent studied her with flat eyes. “What do you know about Ryder?”

“What’s that got to do with this situation?”

Burns stared at her like a hawk at a mouse.

Laney shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. “He’s a terrific school principal.”

“That’s it?”

“I’ve only been here one school term. It’s not like we hang out socially.” Not that she wouldn’t like to, but that was none of Burns’s business.

The agent twirled a paper clip between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t place any confidence in him to figure this out for you. Leave that to the professionals.”

Laney blinked at him. What in the world was he getting at?

A knock sounded at the door.

“Come!” Burns called.

A short man walked in carrying a box about the size of a microwave oven. Laney recognized the strap of Grace’s backpack sticking out the top inside a clear plastic bag.

“This is Agent Wallace,” Burns said. “One of our Evidence Recovery Technicians. I need you to take a look at the items from your sister’s backpack and tell us if you notice anything out of place or missing.”

“O-okay,” Laney quavered. Nausea churned her insides.

Wallace began taking bagged and tagged items out of the box and laying them carefully on any available surface. First, the empty pack itself. Then papers and notebooks and pencils and erasers, a ruler, an assortment of hair pins, a shriveled and barely recognizable candy bag, a smashed calculator and several school texts and workbooks.

“That’s it?” Burns grated.

“All she wrote,” Wallace confirmed.

“I see nothing out of place.” Laney walked around and forced herself to examine every object. “Even the candy is her favorite—Reese’s Pieces.” A lump crowded into her throat and tears stung her eyes. Oh, Gracie! She swallowed the lump and took a deep breath. “What’s this dark stuff staining the corner of the bag and this book? It’s not—” She didn’t finish the statement, as her brain registered the truth without needing to hear from the technician.

Her sister’s lifeblood.

Her gut heaved, and she hurried from the room. No one tried to stop her. She dodged between people in the crowded reception area. Her foot rammed something hard, and she stumbled. Righting herself, she looked down to see heavy, brown work boots. Must be steel-toed. Then she looked up into the scowling face of the custodian, Richard Hodge. His glower chilled her heated rush.