Military Grade Mistletoe

“You said to be concise.” A grin appeared on his dark face.

“Did you map out why you’re deserving of the scholarship?”

“Yeah. I talked about my home life, about being a twin and about what I can do for my community if I get a journalism degree.”

Daisy arched a skeptical eyebrow. “In five hundred and two words?”

Angelo tucked the tails of his white shirt back beneath his navy blue sweater and returned to his desk to pull on his blue school jacket. “Can I have my phone back now, Ms. G?”

“May I?” she corrected automatically, and looked up to see him roll his deep brown eyes. The standard rule in her class was “No cell phones allowed,” and anytime a student entered her room, he or she had to deposit their phones in the shoe bag hanging beside the door. Getting a phone back meant the student was free to go. Daisy smiled at the seventeen-year-old who looked so put upon by grinchy teachers who held him accountable for procrastinated essays and college application deadlines, when he probably just wanted to take off with his buddies for some Thursday night R & R. “You’re too good a writer to miss this opportunity.” She turned the laptop around. “Email me this draft and I’ll get it edited tonight. I can go over any changes that need to be made with you tomorrow. Then we can send the whole thing off before Monday’s deadline.”

Angelo zipped back to her desk and attached the file to an email. “I’ve got basketball after school tomorrow. I won’t be able to come in. Coach will bench me if I miss practice two days in a row.”

Ah, yes. Coach Riley and the pressure he put on his players, despite the academic focus of Central Prep. “Can you do lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pointed to the shoe storage bag hanging by the door. “Grab your phone. Have a good night and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

But he didn’t immediately leave. He exhaled a sigh before setting his backpack on the corner of her desk and digging inside. He pulled out a squished plastic bag with a red ribbon tied around the top and shyly dropped a gift of candy on her desk. “Thank you, Ms. G.”

An instinctive alarm sent a shock of electricity through her veins. But then she saw the blush darkening Angelo’s cheeks and realized she couldn’t be paranoid about everything with a gift tag this time of year. Plus, the smushed present didn’t look anything like the carefully prepared gifts she’d received from her Secret Santa. She feigned a smile before genuinely feeling it, and picked up the gift. “Are these your grandmother’s homemade caramels?”

“Yeah. She wanted to thank you for the extra hours you’re putting in on me.”

Daisy untied the bow and pulled open the bag to sniff the creamy brown-sugary goodies. This present was safe. She’d seen it delivered, and there was nothing hinky about the candies wrapped in this modest bag. She could let herself enjoy it. “I love her caramels. She made a special batch without nuts for me?”

The blush faded as the grin returned. “I don’t know why you want to eat them without the pecans, but she remembered that was the way you like them.”

Daisy pulled out one of the individually wrapped caramels and untwisted the waxed paper. “Hey, between her and me, we’re going to get you into college.”

“Yes, ma’am. Um... I wanted to...”

Wondering how long Angelo was going to stand there before he said whatever was making him shift back and forth so nervously, Daisy popped the caramel in her mouth and started to fill the awkward silence. “These are the yummiest—”

She almost choked on the chewy treat when a sharp knock rapped on her door. “’Lo. You coming or what?” Although the baggy jeans and sideways ball cap were a vastly different look than the school uniform Angelo still wore, Albert Logan shared his twin brother’s face. “Just because you got in trouble with the teacher doesn’t mean I have to be late.”

“I’m not in trouble,” Angelo insisted.

“I don’t care. I just know I have to drive your sorry ass home before I meet the guys.”

“Granny’s going to kill you if you skip dinner again.”

“She ain’t killed me yet.” Albert jerked his head down the hallway toward the exit. “Move it.”

“Hey, Albert.” Daisy stood and offered a friendly greeting.

“Hey, Ms. G.”

Despite looking alike, the two brothers couldn’t be more different. “You know, my offer to stay after school and work with students who need extra help extends to you, too.”

“I ain’t in your class no more.”

“You aren’t anymore,” she corrected. “I’m here with Angelo. I could easily tutor you, too. Get your grades back up so you can be on the basketball team again.”

“Whatever.” He turned down her repeated offer to help him raise his D’s and F’s into acceptable grades and pointed to his brother. “My car leaves in five. Be in it or walk home.”

Although she was already plotting different arguments to convince Albert to get the help he needed, Daisy trained her smile on Angelo while he zipped his backpack and hurried to grab his phone. “Be sure to thank your grandmother for the caramels.”

“Bye.”

Once the teens had left her room, the silence of an empty school long after classes had ended closed in on her. Shaking off the instant sensation of loneliness before it could take hold of her, Daisy packed up her pink leather shoulder bag. She jotted a note to Bernie Riley, the boys’ basketball coach, asking him to have a chat with his former player to encourage Albert to take her, or someone else, up on the tutoring offer. Without sports to keep him interested in school, she feared he’d wind up dropping out without a diploma. Then she grabbed her scarf and wrapped it around the neckline of her tunic sweater and pulled her coat from the closet before shutting off the lights and locking the door.

She’d make one quick stop at the faculty lounge to drop off the note, then head out. Besides hurrying home to let out her three dogs to do their business, she needed to get the place tidied up before showing the upstairs suite to the potential renter who’d answered her ad in the paper. Her friend Hope’s husband was a KCPD cop, and he’d done a routine search on the guy and a couple of other tenant prospects to ensure they didn’t have a criminal record or pose any obvious threat to her.

Having the dogs with her eased her concerns about living alone. But with the advent of the creepy cards and gifts, she’d decided that having a man on the premises, preferably an older one who reminded her of the security her father had once provided, would scare away whoever was threatening her. Besides, one of the hazards of living alone in the two-story 1920s Colonial her parents and grandparents had once lived in was that she was spending a small fortune renovating it. With taxes due at the end of the year and her savings already tapped out, thanks to the new HVAC system and roof she’d been forced to install, she could use the extra income of a tenant to get through the expense of the holidays.

Her steps slowed on the hallway tiles as her imagination surged ahead of her logic. Of course, the idea that her tenant might wind up being a serial killer, or even the sicko who was sending her that crap, was more than a little unsettling.

But no, Officer Pike Taylor had vetted this guy, so he couldn’t be a danger to her. She sifted her fingers into the wavy layers of her hair and shook it off her shoulders. “Stop imagining the worst, Daisy Lou, and go home.”

Her stop in the faculty lounge and work room revealed that she wasn’t the only staff member working late this evening. “Hey, Eddie.”

Daisy dropped her bag onto the chair beside one of the school’s science teachers. It hit the seat with a thunk and Eddie Bosch laughed. “Taking a little work home tonight?”

“Just some papers to grade. And my laptop.” Plus all the items a woman would keep in her purse, along with a few emergency snacks, a stash of dog treats and an extra pair of shoes in case the knee-high boots she wore got too wet with the snow outside and she needed to change before her feet froze. Daisy shook her head as her friend in the loose tie and pullover sweater grinned. “I guess I carry my life in there, don’t I?”

“Well, you won’t have to go to the gym and work out if you keep lifting that thing.” He closed the laptop he’d been working on and pointed a warning finger at her. “Now about that chiropractor bill you’ll be getting...”

“Ha, ha.” Squeezing his shoulder at the teasing remark, she circled around him and went to the wall of cubbies that served as the staff’s mailboxes and searched the alphabetized labels for Bernie Riley’s name.

She was glad Eddie had gotten to the point where he could joke with her. When they’d first started at Central Prep together, he’d had a sadness about him he wore like a shroud. He’d been new to Kansas City, had moved there for a fresh start after losing his fiancée to a long illness. Daisy had made it her personal mission to cheer him up and make him feel welcome. Now, he often made it feel like she was working with the teasing big brother she, as an only child, had never had.

But the comfortable camaraderie quickly ebbed as her gaze landed on her mailbox. She backed away when she saw the corner of a red envelope lying there.

Daisy startled at the hand that settled between her shoulder blades. “Don’t worry.” Eddie reached around her to pull the red envelope from her box and hold it out to her. “It’s the teacher appreciation gift from the school board. A gift card to your favorite coffee shop. We all got one.”

Taking the envelope, she clutched it to her chest, nodding her thanks. Eddie and a few other teachers were close enough friends that she’d shared some of the weird messages she’d been receiving. They’d all agreed that none of the staff could be responsible, and were now on the lookout for any signs of a disturbed student who might be sending the gifts. She appreciated that Eddie and the others were protective of her.

He pointed to other red envelopes still sitting in the mailboxes of teachers who’d already gone home, to confirm his explanation. “It’s nice that they remember us each year. Although I’d trade gourmet coffee for a bump in salary if it’d do us any good.”

Daisy agreed. “I hear ya.”

He nodded toward the paper in her hand. “Is Riley giving you grief about keeping Angelo out of practice again?”

During basketball season, Bernie Riley gave everyone grief. “I think we’ve reached a mutual understanding.”

“You mean, you’ve agreed to do things his way.”