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FISH FELT LEXI GO TENSE beside him, as if she wanted to speak but was willing to wait for Manny’s response.
“We increase our efforts to protect Ms. Becker,” Manny said.
Lexi stiffened. “Excuse me, but can you protect me without proving John Gunther is the Falcon, and having him arrested? And convicted? He’s got an extremely long reach,” she said. “If he showed himself to me in person, he must be worried.”
“Or showing off,” Fish said.
Was Blackthorne going to adjust its fee given what Fish assumed it would take to unravel Gunther’s enterprises? Or did they have another plan? Calling Gunther out in an OK Corral scenario didn’t seem likely.
Lexi’s response echoed his thoughts. “Are we going to have to discuss the terms of my contract? Because it said any significant deviations from the original projected budget would have to be renegotiated. I’m not sure I’m willing to accept any additional expenses.”
“I’m sure you’ll be informed if that comes to pass,” Manny said. “Our team is working on a quick and financially-efficient solution to the problem.”
Sounded like doublespeak to Fish, but Lexi seemed willing to accept it.
“Financially efficient on whose end?” she muttered.
Okay, maybe not so willing.
Manny ended the call, and Lexi opened the adjoining door far enough to peek in on Sofia. Fish followed and stood behind her, draping his arm over her shoulder. Sofia sat cross-legged on the bed, the book in her lap, reading quietly.
Lexi spoke, her voice low. “Sofia’s teacher said she was reading below grade level. She’s the one who explained the echo reading to me. The class is supposed to read this book with their parents. Sofia said her mom’s always too busy to take the time to read, but I think it’s because she’s not very good at reading herself. You seem to have worked magic.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Fish said, but the words had to fight their way past a thickening in his throat. He’d never thought about having kids—in his line of work, he’d be gone a lot, and whether he’d come back, and in what condition, was always an unknown.
He nuzzled Lexi’s neck. She tilted her face up for a quick kiss before striding through the doorway.
“You’re doing great, Princess,” Lexi said.
Sofia grinned. “I like this story.” She held the book out toward Fish. “Can you tell me about Scoopy?”
Staring at the page, Fish had to blink several times before the words focused.
Later, when Sofia asked him, not Lexi, to tuck her in and give her a good night kiss, he knew she’d wormed her way under his skin—and into his heart.
Leaving Sofia to fall asleep, Lexi joined him in his room.
“Television?” he asked.
“Until Sofia’s out,” she said.
His heart warmed again, but in an entirely different way.
Later, their lovemaking was slow and tender. With Lexi, each time was different. And although he didn’t understand how, better.
Lying there, in the dark, listening to her even breathing, he whispered, “I love you. I think I always have.”
Someday, maybe, he’d have the balls to say it out loud when she was awake.
Fish awoke from an all-too-familiar dream of running the rapids, the raft lurching beneath him. As he clutched the bedcovers, awareness of his surroundings registered. The hotel room. The surging rapids were nothing more than Sofia bouncing on the bed.
“Wake up. I have to go to school. I’m going to tell Miss Webster how many pages I read.”
Fish rubbed his jaw, yawned. Lexi stood in the doorway, a coffee mug in her hand, grinning. He had a vague recollection of her leaving after midnight, saying she needed to be in her own room in case Sofia woke up.
“Okay, okay.” He tweaked Sofia’s nose. She was dressed, her hair in two braids, wearing an outfit they’d bought yesterday. He checked the clock. Zero six-twenty?
He groaned. “What time does school start?”
“Eight-thirty,” Lexi said. “A little princess is anxious to get going.”
“Coffee?” he asked. “Breakfast?”
They managed to convince Sofia there was nothing to be gained by showing up at school over an hour early. She was delighted to learn that Lexi would be a classroom volunteer for the day, and Fish would be helping at other places around the school. He promised to be in the cafeteria when her class had lunch.
At the school, Fish had a quick conference with Mrs. Schwerin, the principal, a tall, reedy woman with steel-gray hair and a cautious smile. Her amber-colored eyes, magnified behind her glasses, seemed to bore right through him, assessing each of his words. Kind of like the way Dalton looked at his operatives when they were standing across from his desk.
She examined his credentials. “Are you suggesting the school—and my students—are at risk, Mr. Frisch?”
“No, ma’am. Because Sofia’s mother was arrested, Ms. Becker wanted to be close by in case the child needed emotional support. I’m kind of a bonus. I’ll do whatever you need done. I imagine an extra pair of hands is always needed given the limited budgets schools have to work with these days.”
“Very well. You can start by helping Mr. Jackson.”
Who turned out to be the school janitor. Fish guessed he hadn’t made much of an impression on Mrs. Schwerin. Or else she was one smart woman, because as a janitorial assistant, he’d get a full tour of the school and be able to assess it from any security standpoint.
Dammit, things had changed. When Fish was in grade school, there were no locked gates. They’d get to school early and play on the grounds, usually without adult supervision. Nothing to make them think anything bad could happen, other than the usual playground spats. No official “sentries” in the hallways. Active shooter wasn’t part of anyone’s vocabulary.
Here, the kids had to stay outside the building until the first bell rang. They had active shooter drills, where children were trained to get under their desks. Teachers had their own training, but Fish doubted it would be effective. He’d been a cop, qualified in the use of firearms, in shoot-don’t shoot simulations. They practiced on the range regularly. Even so, when things hit the fan, adrenaline had your hands shaking, your heart pounding, your vision tunneling, and hitting a human target was worlds away from shooting paper targets at the range.
To think these teachers had regular firearm practice was way outside the box. He couldn’t imagine one of them being able to remain calm enough to deal with an armed assailant. Stick an AR-15 into the equation, and all bets were off.
“It’s about vigilance,” Mr. Jackson said as he led Fish through the hallways. “Trying to keep my kids safe without them thinking about not being safe, if that makes sense.”
My kids. Jackson obviously took his job to heart.
“Perfect sense,” Fish said.
“Helps that I was Special Forces.”
Was Jackson armed? The school had a no weapons policy, but that didn’t mean Jackson’s role wasn’t more than a janitor, or that he might be exempt from the rules. Fish had considered going in armed when Lexi had said there were no metal detectors at the school’s entrance, but decided to leave his Glock in the hotel room safe.
“I’m formerly with the Indianapolis PD,” Fish said. “Currently working investigations and security for Blackthorne, Inc.” If Jackson and Blackthorne’s covert side had crossed paths, Fish had given the man enough information to know Fish was capable of doing more than ducking under a desk. If Jackson was unaware of the covert side of Blackthorne, then Fish hadn’t revealed anything he shouldn’t have.
Before things went further, he took the conversation down another road. “This looks like a nice place.”
The walls were decorated with colorful posters, a trophy cabinet and an array of framed awards of excellence. Fish paused at a display of artwork and zeroed in on a card labeling one section as Miss Webster’s class. He scanned the pictures, looking for Sofia’s. Apparently, the assignment involved drawing pets, because dogs, cats, and the occasional fishbowl or bird in a cage made up most of the work. Did Sofia have a pet? Fish assumed not, since she’d never mentioned it when they’d taken her to the hotel. He read the names on the drawings. Sofia had drawn what looked like a mouse. Or a rat? Did one of her friends have a pet hamster or mouse, or did Sofia’s picture mean her building was infested with rodents?
Thoughts of rats crawling over a sleeping Sofia turned his stomach.
***
LEXI LOOKED UP FROM the paintbrushes she was washing as Sofia marched to the reading circle, head high, a wide grin on her face. Sofia had taken a huge leap yesterday, but that was for her at-home reading book, not the one her group was reading in class. Would she do as well today?
Earlier, Miss Webster had mentioned Sofia’s schoolwork and attitude had been on a downslide the last several months. She’d mentioned summer school, or even holding Sofia back. Lexi was convinced it was due to Sofia’s home situation, and anger roiled through her insides as she thought of Cataline. How could she have neglected her daughter?
Sadly, Lexi had seen it far too often on the job in Indy. No reason to think the same issues weren’t at play in Burnside.
Sofia made it through her turn in the circle with one or two stumbles, which she corrected on her own. Miss Webster’s praise filled Lexi with as much pride as Sofia must be feeling.
When the class paraded to the cafeteria for lunch, Lexi was surprised to see Marv at the door greeting each group as they entered. Lunch room monitor. She almost laughed, but Marv managed a break and joined her at Sofia’s table, talking to each of the children about their lunches. One girl was picking at her food, and Marv leaned over.
“Don’t like today’s repast?” he said.
The girl scrunched her face. “Past what?”
“Repast. Fancy word for food, but if you think of it that way, it’ll taste better. That’s what my grandmother used to say, and I guarantee it works.”
The girl rolled her eyes, but took another bite. With a shrug and bunched eyebrows, she finished her meal.
Sofia seemed to devour hers without tasting, as if the subsidized lunch program was often the main meal of her day.
“I’m helping with Phys Ed after lunch,” Marv said while the class lined up to throw away their trash. “Wonder if these kids would like a taste of PE, Manny Rodriguez style.”
Lexi laughed. “I’d say they can do without. After talking with Miss Webster, I think Sofia’s been neglected at home lately. I’d like to tap into the Burnside PD database and see if Cataline’s been involved in any criminal activity prior to this week, and into DHS to see if there have been complaints filed.”
“I can check with Blackthorne. They know how to get in and out of databases without leaving footprints.”
Lexi shook her head. “No. I’d prefer to limit my obligations to Blackthorne to the Falcon.”
“As you wish. We can talk later. I need to get onto the playground.” He tilted his head. “If I can’t be Manny, I wonder if they’ll let me set up an obstacle course.”
“Be careful,” Lexi said. “It’s much harder to secure a playground than a school building.”
“Still can’t see anything happening here. Too much potential collateral damage, too many chances things might get tied to Gunther. He meant to scare you yesterday.”
“It worked.”
The rest of the day passed without incident, although Lexi wasn’t convinced Gunther wouldn’t make good on his threat. The school library stayed open for an hour after school, and Lexi set Sofia up to get her homework done. Today was math, and Sofia rarely needed help with that.
Lexi and Marv sat at a table where they could watch the door, keep an eye on Sofia, yet still have a private conversation.
“Did you hear from anyone about Cataline’s arraignment?” Lexi asked. Would the judge have set bail? Did she need to get to the courthouse and post bond for Cataline?
What if the judge didn’t allow bail? Would the system let Lexi keep Sofia?
Lexi waited—not patiently, as her mind continued to whirl through possible outcomes—for Marv to finish his text exchanges and fill her in. When he set the phone down, the grim expression on his face had icy fingers clutching her heart.
He glanced across the library, where Sofia was intent on her math homework. His voice low, Fish said, “Cataline showed up at her arraignment stoned out of her mind. She collapsed in the courtroom and they rushed her to the ER.”