Luke pounded up the steps to the Smurfellas’ porch, carrying the kid’s assignments in his backpack. He’d volunteered to bring Smurf’s homework—it would be a perfect opening to get into his personal life. After he left here, Luke was off to Max’s to play on the computer, maybe get into that website Duchamp boasted about. When Stonehouse first heard about these plans, he’d been pleased that Luke was making progress in diagnosing which kids were dangerous. Then yesterday happened. God knew what Joe would do after Suzanna’s information about Kelsey’s confession. A confession, if Luke was honest with himself, he savored sweetly in his heart. God, he wanted to tell her who he really was.
The wind picked up, and Luke raised the collar of his bomber jacket against the chill. Ringing the doorbell, he let thoughts of Kelsey’s sleeping face and delicious body warm him. His hand flexed as he recalled touching her. Geez, he had to stop thinking about this. He had to get a grip if he was to finish this operation and get away unscathed.
Once again, he pushed on the doorbell and concentrated on Smurf. The house was huge, a brick Colonial in an exclusive area at the edge of town. Smurf’s father was a VP at the local IBM plant, and they were definitely upper crust.
An older woman wearing a chic dress and enough gold to set off a metal detector answered the door. “Hello. Luke, is it?”
“Yeah, I got Smur—Jimmy’s homework.”
“Please, come in.” A vein-lined hand fluttered to her neck. “I’m Mrs. Smurfella.”
So this was Smurf’s mother. Luke thought about his own down-to-earth Matka, always dressed in plain cotton house dresses and sensible shoes, smelling like vanilla.
“He’s got cabin fever from being cooped up here,” Mrs. Smurfella said. “He’d like to see a friend.”
Once again, Luke felt sorry for Smurf, the guy everybody picked on. Nobody, except maybe Franzi, wanted to spend time with him.
“I’m sorry you had to come way out here,” the woman continued. “My daughter was supposed to get his work, but she kept forgetting.”
Mrs. Smurfella’s face reddened. Her daughter was a first-class snob who ignored Smurf’s existence. Though Luke’s own sisters interfered in his love life all the time and were a general pain in the butt, the thought of them treating him like Ms. Valedictorian treated Smurf made Luke wince inwardly.
“He’s not contagious.” Mrs. Smurfella led Luke around a corner to a wing of the house. “He had the flu, but he’s over it. The doctor said he can go back to school soon.” She frowned. “He doesn’t seem particularly anxious to return, though.”
“Hmm” was all Luke said, but he was thinking, Why? Because of the bullying? They made their way through winding corridors, over thick carpet, under a gazillion skylights. Smurf’s door was locked when his mother knocked and tried to open it.
On the second knock, Smurf pulled it open. “Damn it, Ma, could you—” The boy’s face lit when he saw his mother had company. “Hey, Luke, how ya doing?”
“Great.” Luke held up his backpack. “Don’t look so happy to see me. I got your work.”
Behind the thick glasses, Smurf’s eyes flicked with something—suspicion, maybe? “It’s okay. I wanted it.”
“I’ll leave you two boys alone. Would you like something to drink, Luke?”
“No, thank you, ma’am.”
“Well, stay a while. Jimmy could use the company.”
Luke smiled warmly. It turned into a gape when he stepped inside Smurf’s room. “Holy shit, Smurf, this is a goddamn palace.” The area was really a suite; the bedroom itself had to be twenty feet square. Skylights dotted the high, slanted ceiling and there were several windows. A whole row of closets took up one wall. Off to the side was a hallway, and Luke could see a bathroom through the open doorway. A king-size bed with a fan-shaped headboard faced the biggest entertainment center Luke had ever seen. It held every gadget imaginable. He wandered over to it. “You got a lot of hardware here, buddy.
Smurf shrugged.
Luke studied the lower half. “This a fridge?”
“Uh-huh.”
“That is cool.”
“My new machine’s the best.” He nodded to the far end of the room. Really, it was a little alcove by itself. About five by eight, it sported the same skylights and windows, and held a computer system that could have come from a science fiction movie.
Luke crossed to it, Smurf following him. “That’s an understatement.”
“This baby can do everything. Sit,” Smurf said, indicating the real leather chair in front of it.
“A man after my own heart, Smurfy boy. I love these things.”
Luke dropped down, and Smurf pulled up another chair. “You like music; I got some sites bookmarked.”
“Great.” For a half-hour they played on the Internet. It was fun, and distracted Luke, at least momentarily, from what Kelsey had told Suzanna about her feelings for him.
When Smurf went to get them something to eat, Luke seized the opportunity to check things out. The closets were full of clothes. The hallway off the main area led to a huge bathroom that even had a damned Jacuzzi. There was another door to the left—it was locked. Hmm. At the end of the hallway was a private entrance. Luke had just come back into the main room when the chime for an instant message pinged from the computer screen. He crossed to the machine.
The message was from a sender called Cassius. It read, “PBBs beware. Caesar’s army is out in droves. Bury your site and don’t visit the Coliseum until you hear from me.”
Luke stared at the message, wondering what kind of game Smurf was into. There were armies of weirdos online, and some of them were dangerous.
“What’s that?” Smurf asked from behind.
“An instant message.” Luke tried to look bored. “I got no idea what it means.”
Smurf’s eyes turned cold after he read it. “Means nothing.” He flicked a few keys and the message was gone.
All traces of it.
Luke’s Secret Service instincts surfaced. What the hell were PBBs?
o0o
Thinking he was too old for this kind of thing, Luke once again hid behind a tree; this time he was at Max Duchamp’s, dodging Rush Webster. The punk exited the house through the walkout basement door in the back. His shoulders were stooped, and a day-old beard shadowed his face. Though he wanted to tackle Webster and beat the shit out of him for what the guy had done to Kelsey, Luke let him go.
Try to control your behavior, will you? Stonehouse had said. So he was trying. He let Webster get in his battered van and drive away, scot-free. Luke waited some, then headed to the private entrance and knocked on the heavy metal door.
“Yo, enter,” Max called out.
As Luke walked in, Max looked up from his bed.
The girl next to him in the tangled camouflage sheets peered over her shoulder and tried to focus. “What, another one?”
Luke was startled to see a naked girl here. He’d guessed Max was hookin’ up with girls, but...did he share, with Webster? The thought turned his stomach. Sometimes, he wished he could teach these kids, too, and help stop this kind of dangerous behavior.
“Ah, I can come back,” Luke said.
“No, need.” He patted the girl’s ass. “Go wait in the pool room, Mel.”
Sliding out of bed, she pouted as she picked up a T-shirt and tugged it over her head, casually dropping an obscenity when her bleached hair caught in the material. As she passed Luke, she scraped a fingernail down his arm. “You’re a cutie,” she purred, and left them alone.
Max picked up a cigarette pack from the table, knocked one out, and lit it. “You want a smoke?”
“I got my own.” Luke fished in his pocket and lit up.
“How ya doing, buddy?” Max asked.
“Happy as a pig in shit.”
Max studied him. “You pissed off about something?”
“No.” Hell, Luke was losing it. He blew out gray rings and tossed a lascivious glance after Mel. “I thought you might share, is all.”
“Nah. Not my thing.”
Luke dropped down into a chair. “No fair.” He scanned the room. “Saw Webster leavin’.”
Easing out of bed, Max put the cigarette in an ashtray, stood, and shrugged into boxers that had rifles on them. He strolled to the fridge and snared some beer. “Webster’s taking off.”
“Takin’ off?”
“Going to the city.”
“He quittin’ school?”
“Temporarily.”
This was news. Good news.
Pretending disinterest, Luke nodded toward the computer table where a yearbook was lying. “What you doin’ with one of those things? You gettin’ school spirit all of a sudden?”
“When my dick goes limp.” Max opened two bottles and set one beside Luke. He took a long, cool slug, then nodded at the yearbook. “I stole it from the library.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Wanted some names, that’s all.”
“Names?” Like for a hit list?
Scowling, Max sank back on the mattress and picked up the Marlboro. Did he suspect something?
“You got any weed?” Might as well see what else Max was into and change the subject.
“Not anymore. Me and Mel smoked the last of the shit I had before we boinked.” He grinned lecherously. “It was good stuff. I thought the top of my head was gonna blow off when I came.”
For some reason, Max’s crudeness about sex made Luke’s stomach knot. He thought of Kelsey and how he’d tucked her into the couch, pulled up the covers, and kissed her forehead. If they ever got to physical intimacy, they certainly wouldn’t boink. He’d make love to her real slow, and savor every minute.
“Where’d you go, Ludzecky?”
Luke scanned the room for something that might have distracted him. “Don’t it give you the willies havin’ all those eyes lookin’ at you when you sleep?”
Max studied the heads that adorned the walls—bear, elk, and even a doe. “No. I like ‘em. They my buddies. I gave em all names.” He grinned. “My father thinks that’s funny.”
Luke’s gaze narrowed in on the gun rack. “Those loaded?”
“Not now, they aren’t, but my dad has ammo.” He preened. “I know where to get it.”
“Hmm.”
“You ever shoot a gun?”
Luke gave him a disgusted look. “Is the pope Catholic?”
Max laughed. “Wanna go to the shooting range with me sometime? My dad’s president of the Fairholm Gun Club.”
“You name the date, Max.” As casually as he could, Luke said, “So, can I see this big, dark, secret website you got?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Luke glanced out the door. “What about the squeeze?”
“She’ll wait.” He puffed out his chest. “I’m that good.”
“Bite me.”
Abruptly, Max stood and nodded to the computer. “I gotta take a leak before we do that.”
As Max hit the head right off his room, Luke rose and crossed to the desk. He reached to move the yearbook out of the way.
The book was open to Junior Prom stuff. Luke remembered his own special night and how sexy Marcy Wilkins had looked in a strapless green number that sent his adolescent hormones into overdrive. What would Kelsey look like all dressed up?
He focused on the page. In the center was a picture of the king and queen of the prom. Luke stared hard at it. In black marker, someone had circled the face of the king.
It was Josh Quinn.
o0o
Suzanna was getting ready for bed when the doorbell rang. Hurriedly pulling her Fairholm sweatshirt and jeans back on, she headed downstairs in socked feet. “I’ll get it,” she called out to Josh as she passed his room.
From behind his closed door, Josh yelled, “Don’t answer it until you see who’s there.”
Switching on a hall light, she took the stairs to the foyer; after checking the peephole and disarming the security system, she pulled open the door. Luke and Joe stood on the porch, looking grim. Her heart began to pound. “Has something happened?”
“Not like you mean.” Joe hunched his shoulders against the rain. He nodded into the house. “Is Josh here?”
“Yes, he’s in his room. Do you want to see him?”
“No, we want to see you.” Joe’s voice was raspy and his eyes concerned. “But he shouldn’t go out.”
She peered over Joe’s shoulder at the dark, misty street. “He’s not going out; we were both ready for bed.”
Without invitation, Joe stepped inside and Luke followed. Suzanna closed the door. Luke rubbed his arms to warm himself.
“Can we talk somewhere?” Joe asked. “Without being overheard?”
Distressed, but holding it back, she said, “Go into the den. I’ll tell Josh we can’t be disturbed. He’s used to this kind of thing.”
Reaching out, Joe touched her shoulder. Luke smiled at her, then followed Joe down the corridor. They’d both removed their jackets and were standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves when Suzanna entered the den. Their bodies were braced like soldiers waiting for their next command. A light burned low in the corner, creating a cozy atmosphere in the room. Still, she felt chilled.
“Sit down,” Joe said curtly.
Luke crossed to her and squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. We have some more information you need to hear.” He tossed a knowing look at Joe. “The old man’s just worried about you.”
She smiled weakly at Luke and sank onto a chair. Both of the men remained standing. Joe spoke first.
“Luke spent the evening with Max Duchamp. He found two disturbing things. One was a picture of Josh in a yearbook Max had lying around; Josh’s face was circled in black marker.”
At first Suzanna didn’t get it. Why would Max...then the significance of it hit her. “Oh, no.”
Joe crossed to her and squatted at her feet. His dark green shirt and sweater made his eyes the color of the forest. He grasped her hands in his. “It may mean a lot, and it may mean nothing,” he said.
Hope flickered in her mother’s heart. “How?”
“Max came in while Luke was looking at the yearbook. He said Webster had circled Josh’s picture. Max shrugged it off as another of Webster’s idiosyncrasies.”
Her gaze snapped to Luke. “Do you believe Max?”
Luke leaned against the edge of the desk and shrugged flannel-clad shoulders. “He’s got no reason to lie to me. And after he told me that, he trusted me with something else, so I think he’s tellin’ the truth.”
She took in a deep breath. “All right. What do we do now?”
“Well, a couple of things.” Joe still squatted in front of her. “But let me tell you what else we found.”
“There’s more?” Her voice trembled.
“Max got Luke into his and Webster’s website.” He glanced at the computer on her desk. “I’d like you to see it. Luke can access it again.”
“Go ahead.”
Circling the desk, Luke sank onto her chair and booted up the computer.
“Are you all right?” Joe whispered, holding onto her hands, which had turned frigid.
“Josh?” She shook her head. “Oh, Joe. I can’t believe it.”
“This might not be as bad as we think. In some ways, it’s no different from finding the hit list. It also tells us we’re on the right track with Duchamp and Webster.”
Stone-cold inside, Suzanna bit her lip to keep from crying. Joe pulled her head to his shoulder. “I’m here, Suzanna.” His lips moved in her hair. “So’s Luke. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise.”
She just held onto him; tonight he was her lifeline.
A cough came from the desk. “I’m in.”
Joe rose and, still holding Suzanna’s hand, drew her up and over to the computer. They stood behind Luke.
The site’s home page came up first. It was done in stark black-and-white, simply advertised as D&W—The Worst of the Worst. There were four places for visitors to click, indicated by gun icons. The first was Mad Meanderings. When Luke got into that section, Suzanna saw it contained diary-type entries from D and from W. D’s were concerned mostly with guns: why they should be available, how to fight against gun control. Suzanna knew Max and his father were gun fanatics. But she winced at language foul enough to make a sailor blush.
Then she got to Webster’s entries. She almost couldn’t read his obscenities. Hell, she didn’t even understand some of the phrases. The second part of the site, Fantasies for Fanatics, invited readers to share their violent fantasies by e-mailing them to an address that incorporated an obscenity. Most were sexual. “This is sick,” she told them.
“Suzanna,” Joe said sternly, “you don’t have to read this trash.”
“I’ve never heard of skull-fucking.”
But there it was: In some cult-like settings, a dead body was deliberately desecrated—an eye was cut out—and...she could barely take in the rest. But she did, just as she forced herself to scan the other two sections of the site: Shoot Off to Other Places—web rings that sent people to gun sites, snuff movie sites, some pornography sites.
“Oh, no,” Suzanna said at the last section, Best Buddies.
Sliding his arm around her, Joe pulled her close. “This is the worst part.”
It was a personals-type board where people with similar interests could make contact. A kind of perversion clearinghouse.
The room got quiet.
“These two are young boys,” Suzanna said angrily. “How can they be into this stuff?”
“It’s a complicated world, Suzanna.” Joe cleared his throat, his voice sandpapery. “Horrible things happen to young boys.”
After a long pause, Luke said, “That’s it.”
Sighing heavily, Joe eased Suzanna away from him. “Let’s go sit down and I’ll tell you our plan. We’ve had only a few hours to discuss this, but Luke and I have some ideas.”
Suzanna allowed herself to be led to the couch. Shakily, she sank down and Joe took the cushion next to her. Luke dropped onto a chair across from them, spread his legs, and, hunching over, linked his hands between them.
“Obviously, the website shows they’re into violence, though Luke thinks, again, Max is on the periphery.”
“Why?”
“Because he seemed a little green around the gills when I commented on some of the content.” Luke was somber. “Like the snuff films. And there are no recent diary entries from him; it’s as if he’s lost interest.”
“That’s something.”
“It’s Webster we have to zero in on,” Joe told her, “though we should keep close tabs on Duchamp.” The men exchanged meaningful looks. “We’ll tell Josh that I found this yearbook in the library—defaced. We’ll stress that it’s only an indicator that someone might want to do him harm. That he has to be careful, for a while, until the police pick Webster up.”
“Pick him up?”
“Yes, the school, or Kelsey, has to file assault charges. We talked about doing this last week.”
“I want the school to do it.” Though he wore his teenage uniform, tonight Luke was every inch the competent, savvy agent.
Joe scowled at him.
“If Kelsey does it, Webster will be even more furious with her. He might go after her.” Luke’s gaze sharpened. “Look, we’ve done enough to her. Let’s not add to it.”
“Webster could come after Suzanna if she files it,” Joe said.
The two men faced each other down.
Suzanna ignored the territorial vibes between them. “It doesn’t matter what you think. It’s my responsibility. I wouldn’t let Kelsey file even if you wanted her to. She’s been through enough, and we’re not being fair to her as it is.”
Luke’s expression was grateful.
Finally, Joe said, “We’ve got to arrange some protection for you and Josh.”
“Protection? As in cops? And bodyguards?”
Joe shrugged. “We’ve come up with a good compromise.” He threw Luke a self-effacing smile. They’d obviously come to terms with lying to Kelsey.
Luke said, “Yeah, tough job, boss. I feel bad for you.”
“What’s going on?”
Joe turned to Suzanna. His dark hair was mussed and there were deep grooves bracketing his mouth tonight, but his eyes shone with some kind of devilment. “Well, Suzanna, you and I are about to become an item.”
“An item?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re going to date. We’re, um, attracted to each other. We want to spend time together.” Again he coughed. “A lot.”
“I can’t date a member of my staff.”
“You’re not my boss. The superintendent is. Technically, I don’t work for you. I work for the administration.”
“Still, it won’t look good. At school.”
“I’m sorry. I want people there to think we’re dating, too, so my being with you so much won’t seem strange. They’d suspect something anyway. Everybody found out about the tire slashing, even though we tried to keep that quiet. The school’s grapevine is alive and well.”
“I suppose.”
“Kelsey’ll get the same story, Suzanna.”
She didn’t like that at all. Any of it, really. “I hate the image of me this will create.”
“You’ll have to deal with it.”
“Like everything else,” she said, exasperated. When he didn’t respond, she saw by his expression that she had no choice. “So, I take it we’ll tell Josh directly about our relationship...to explain your being around the house.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t let you spend the night here.”
Luke stood. “I think this is my cue to leave. I brought my own car so you two could hash out the particulars.” He gave Suzanna a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry we keep invadin’ your privacy, Suzanna.” He frowned. “And Kelsey’s, too.”
Nodding weakly at Luke, she watched him go. Then she faced Joe. “This keeps getting worse, doesn’t it?”
Joe couldn’t help himself. Feeling like a teenager asking for his first date, he said, “I know you’re mad about this thing with Kelsey. But is the thought of spending time with me, pretending you’re interested in me, so abhorrent to you?”
Brandy-colored eyes full of heat drew him in. “You know it’s not.”
He reached out, grasped a lock of her hair, and slid it between his fingers. It was as soft as corn silk. “Me, neither.” He stared at her lips. “It could be a problem, though. Because we don’t find it offensive.”
“How?” Her voice was a come-to-bed whisper.
He wanted to kiss her so badly, he felt turned inside out. But he had to remember who he was and what he was doing. Once, when he was a young agent like Luke, he’d been pursuing a would-be assassin down an alley. He’d been petrified, sidling in and out of doorways, trying not to be seen, knowing he could get shot and killed at any moment. He felt that kind of vulnerability now.
Dropping her hair, he eased back and crossed the room. Nervously he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Suzanna, nothing can happen between us.”
She didn’t deny there was a possibility.
“It’s important we both keep our heads in this. I have to stay sharp. I can’t get distracted by you.”
Still no answer.
“And you don’t want to invest in me.” Any more than you already have. “I won’t be here much longer. I’ll go back to my job in D.C., find another school, and...”
Her eyes searched his. “And start all over again?”
He didn’t like her tone. “What do you mean by that?”
“Has this ever happened to you before?”
He didn’t ask what she meant. “No, not on the job.” A woman’s pleasure lit her face, made him add, “Never.”
Silently, she wrapped her arms around her waist.
“How about you, Suzanna? Have there been any serious relationships with men since Lawrence died?”
She looked away. “No, there haven’t been.”
A swell of pure male pride jolted him. He tried to quell it. Still, a word slipped out. “Good.” He cursed himself, then straightened. “As for the other, staying overnight here, it wouldn’t happen so soon, anyway. I’ll just be around a lot. Late. Eat dinner here. Work out with you. Relax with you.”
She stared at him.
“We have no choice, Suzanna,” he said tightly.
“Fine.” The word was clipped. “What about Josh starting to talk to you? How will our involvement, phony though it is, affect his confiding in you?”
“I’ll address it openly. If he still doesn’t feel comfortable with me, it’s a loss we’ll have to absorb.”
Her eyes flared with temper. “I feel like I’m doing all the sacrificing. My beliefs. My ethics. This newest thing with Kelsey. My relationship with my students and staff. And now that Josh is finally opening up to you, I may lose that, too.”
Joe stiffened. He didn’t want to face the reality of all that she said. This was part of the problem in caring about her, about coming to care for her son. It was why agents had to stay detached. “I’m sorry, but to insure the physical safety of Josh, your staff, and the rest of the kids, you’ll just have to take it on the chin.” When she remained silent, he said, “Go get Josh.”
“Now?”
“Yes, I want him to know about the yearbook thing right away. We can tell him the rest tomorrow night.” He gave her a boyish grin. “You’re inviting me to dinner.”
She headed for the door.
“Suzanna?”
She pivoted when she got there. “What?”
“I’ll try to make this as easy on you as possible.”
Her eyes told him not to bother. Without answering, she turned to go get Josh.
And Joe wondered, deep in his heart, where the agent was not allowed to tread, how he was going to keep his hands off her and do his job right.