Calculated Revenge

Laney ushered her daughter into the office under the speculative gazes of a pair of aides loitering near the staff mailboxes. Miss Aggie stepped out from behind her desk, and her forbidding glare shooed the curious aides out the room. Then she turned a smile on Briana and motioned them into Noah’s inner sanctum. Laney mustered a faint nod of thanks.

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.”