Calculated Revenge

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.