Deadly Bonds (11 page)

“It’s nothing.” But at that moment, she felt like a tiny, helpless yellow bird.

* * *

You are not doing this because John Rochard said so.

Sara repeated it to herself as she trekked out to the gym. She’d debated how to handle the Rochard issue for over an hour before deciding it was, at the very least, time to check in with Neil. His schedule said he’d be in Physical Education right now. Ironically, given his father’s abhorrence of her new programs, Neil was one of the students who seemed to benefit the most from the new sports facilities. According to Coach, Neil spent many hours in the weight room, ramping up for football, track and basketball. Today, the football team was out on the field in full gear. They’d lost their second game in a row that weekend, and were paying for it with a brutal workout.

She went to stand by Coach at the sidelines. “Are they looking any better?”

“They will by the end of the week. We got a tough opponent coming up. This last one was nothing, and still they lost. We should have had them.”

“I’m sure you’ll whip them into shape.”

“Helps to have a place to practice here on school grounds.” Coach’s gaze remained on the players doing sprints up and down the field. “What brings you out here?”

“I need to talk to Neil.”

“What’s he done this time?”

Startled, her gaze shifted from the players to Coach. “This time?”

“Heard he had a run-in with the law several weeks back, during the summer. Daddy’s money and Grandpa’s rep bought him a reprieve. Plus, he was a first offender.”

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.” Clearly, things were worse than she’d thought. “What did he do?”

“Stole a case of beer from a convenience store while his buddies distracted the clerk.”

“Beer?” Was he into alcohol and drugs?

“The incident was never made official, so I didn’t make a big deal of it.” His eyes met hers. “Not
officially
, anyway.” He jerked his head toward the far corner of the field where Neil was filling water bottles for the football players from a big orange cooler. His attention, however, kept diverting to the action on the field.

“Looks like he’s paying his dues.”

Coach nodded. “And he will be all season in some form or another, though he gets plenty of time to practice too.”

“That, plus night school?”

“It’s a lot, but the kid insists he can handle it. We’ve got him some extra tutoring on the weekends. And I guarantee you I would have made a big deal of the incident this summer if I thought there was a real problem. He’s just a kid working out some kinks.”

Sara breathed a sigh of relief. She trusted Coach’s opinion of his players, and an addiction would make things a hundred times more difficult, as would a criminal record. “The SATs are in a couple of weeks.”

“Got that covered too. Told him a University of Michigan scout would be at the game in a few weeks, so he might want to keep his grades up and his nose to the grindstone if he wants to play for a shot at a scholarship there.”

“Sounds like you have it under control.”

“Never hurts to have more of us on his back, though.” With a nod, he meandered down the field to shout instructions at some players.

Sara made her way around the sidelines to the table with the cooler. “Hey, Neil.”

Neil looked up briefly then returned to filling cups, this time from a second cooler, apparently filled with Gatorade. “Hey.”

“Just thought I’d check in with you.”
Not because your father’s a bully.

“I’m fine.”

“I see that. But I hope you know my door is always open if you want to talk.”

He didn’t look up. “’Kay.”

“About anything.”

This time, his response was a simple nod. He wasn’t in the mood to chat, and probably didn’t want his friends to witness it, anyway. “You know where to find me.” She turned to leave, but his words stopped her.

“You like this school, right? You care about it?”

She turned back. “I love this school. I care very much about it and all of the students.”

He seemed to process this. “That’s what I thought.”

Coach’s whistle signaled the end of practice, and the sweat-drenched team swarmed toward the refreshments. Sara made her way back to her office, hoping her invitation had been enough to open the door—at least a crack.

Cheryl waved frantically to her as Sara passed her desk.
Now what?

“He’s on hold.” Cheryl’s voice radiated repressed excitement.

“He, who?”
Please don’t let it be John or a board member.

“Dr. Patterson.”

Holt was calling her? “Thank you.”

“That’s it?” Cheryl’s smile went flat, like an egg hitting a hard tile floor. “Even from what little you told me, I could tell this guy was special.”

“He was. For about a day. He’s just like any other student’s father.”
Liar.
She ignored the voice in her head. She couldn’t afford to get her hopes up, especially after last time.
He only wants friendship.
“I’m sure he’s calling to check in on Theo.”

Cheryl scowled at her. “You could at least try. You don’t date, you don’t have fun. All you have is this school.”

Sara regretted having told her anything at all about her past with Holt. This morning, in a moment of weakness, she’d confided in Cheryl that she’d once had feelings for Holt, and that he now seemed interested in rekindling a friendship. “Sometimes it’s way too easy to talk to you.”

The scowl disappeared. “Good. Now be a smart girl and at least try.” Cheryl tipped her head toward her office. “He’s waiting. Line one.”

Sara collected her scattered thoughts as she went to her office and closed the door. She lifted the receiver and pressed the button for line one. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

That one simple word had memories of Friday night filling her head—the long column of his throat as he tossed back tequila, the scent of him on her spare sheets... “What can I do for you?” Did she sound normal? She certainly sounded like a different person to her own ears.

“Look, I’m sorry to bother you at work...”

Bother?
Clearly they hadn’t been on the same page last Friday if he thought a phone call from him would bother her. “No worries. I wasn’t expecting you to call.” Hoping, maybe. Not expecting.

“Still, you’ve been on my mind.”

That gave her pause. “Oh.”

“I wanted to call you, but not this way, and not at work.”

“So why are you calling now? Not that you’re bugging me or anything...”

“There’s been another murder.”

Concern shoved pride aside. “In the Toxin case? I haven’t heard anything in the news.”

“It just happened last night.”

“Okay...” What did this have to do with her? “Are you okay?”

He paused. “Yes. But I need to warn you...”

“What?” Her pulse was suddenly pounding at her throat.

“The killer left a note. Apparently, Toxin has been watching me. He knows about you.”

Sara was grateful her chair was under her, otherwise she might have slid to the floor. “How?”

“Somehow, he knows.”

John.
Damn, had he spilled the beans to someone?

“Sara?”

“I’m here. Just absorbing this.”

“Did you see someone suspicious that night? Think back.”

“Not that I remember.” She’d been too wrapped up in Holt and memories of Elizabeth. It had been an emotional roller coaster of a night. “But I did hear from John Rochard today. He told me he knew you and I had been together that night. He insinuated I was behaving improperly.”

“But we didn’t do anything to be ashamed of.”

That was what she’d told him, but it didn’t matter. John would twist what he’d seen. “It doesn’t look that way to the common observer. It’s enough that he saw us. Now it sounds like
two
people saw us that night.” Her heart stuttered at the thought of a killer like Toxin lurking in the bushes. “Besides, John’s a bug in the ear of the board members, who are already looking for any reason to shoot down my projects because they don’t want to fund them. John is threatening to provide the ammo. He may have talked to someone already.”

Holt cursed, surprising her. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

“He just came to me a couple hours ago. What could you have done? Besides, did you call
me
about Toxin right away?”

“That’s different.”

“How? More lethal?” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

“It’s an ongoing police investigation. I didn’t want to involve you unless I got the go-ahead. Want me to talk to Rochard?”

She smiled grimly. After their last encounter, she’d love to see John squirm under Holt’s directness. But John wasn’t going to back down, and Sara wasn’t going back on her principles. All she could do was continue to encourage Neil to do his best. The SAT was in a couple weeks, and midterms were right after that. Getting Holt involved would only rattle John’s cage. She sighed. “It won’t help. In fact, it would probably convince him there’s something going on between you and me. Please, just stay out of it.”

“I have to do
something.
I got you into this mess. Besides, he could very well be a suspect now...and if he has an alibi for the other murders, he may have seen someone else around the school that night.”

“You think John could be Toxin?” She laughed. “He’s all bark and no bite. But sure, investigate him. It would serve him right. As for Toxin, tell me what I need to do to keep the boys and myself safe. Would he come here, to the school?” He’d already followed Holt here once, maybe twice. Would he come when Holt wasn’t around? Fear pierced her lungs, sucking the air from the room. She was responsible for these students. They’d become her family. Her
only
family.

“He’s more interested in me, but I wanted you to be aware. I can send someone up there to guard the school. One of our security experts, Becca Haney, will be available by the end of the week, after her current assignment is over.”

“I don’t want to do anything to panic the boys, or their parents. If you’re sure there’s no immediate danger, I think I can handle things here. And there’s always the local police.”

“I called the local PD right before I called you. They’re on the lookout for anyone suspicious in the area. In fact, I’ll be paying a visit to them to deliver my profile in person.” The thought of Holt taking action to protect her and the school was reassuring. Toxin would be crazy to take his murderous tendencies to the middle of the suburbs where he was more likely to be noticed as out of place. But then, maybe he
was
crazy.

Suddenly, she didn’t want to talk about killers anymore. She needed something resembling normal on a day that had been anything but.

“How are you doing?” She could have kicked herself for asking. She should be running the other way, protecting her heart. But she wanted to know. “I mean, this guy is targeting you, right? Are you taking care of yourself?”

Holt exhaled a deep breath. “It’s been a long day, but this could be the break in the case we need.”

“I didn’t mean the case. I meant how are
you
doing? What are you doing to stay safe? I can ask you that, right? I mean, that’s what
friends
do. You told me you wanted friendship.” Sara could hear her own heartbeat count out the seconds in the long pause that followed.

“After what you’ve told me about Rochard and after the note from Toxin, I should keep my distance.” Which meant he’d stay away from
her.

“Right.” Stupid to think he’d say what her heart wanted to hear, anyway. She’d been willing to settle for friendship, but it looked like that offer was off the table as well. Her laugh was brittle. “Never mind.”

“Sara—”

“I’ll let you know if I remember anyone suspicious from that night. Goodbye, and good luck.” She hung up before she could make a bigger fool out of herself. She wouldn’t travel that road again. She sat back in her chair and stared at the wall.

Cheryl opened the door and poked her head in. “Done already?” Her eyes narrowed as she saw Sara’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it that evident?”

“The guy’s an idiot if he doesn’t see what a catch you are.”

Sara was pretty sure Holt was far from an idiot. Which meant he simply didn’t want her, or Elizabeth’s ghost was too powerful to combat. Of course, she’d always been second best. When would she learn? “Thank you for saying that, but that’s not what’s wrong. It seems that one night with Holt was even more of a mistake than I thought.” Now, it wasn’t just her heart in danger, but her life.

Chapter Ten

The throng of students bubbled over with enthusiasm. It was Friday and their normal school-day routine had been disrupted. The hum of conversation rising from the bleachers in the gym threatened to become a roar by the time Holt accepted the microphone from the overly tan, silver-haired guy known simply as Coach.

“Hello.” Holt’s greeting echoed and the boil of excitement among the Academy students became a low simmer before dying off altogether. “I’m Dr. Patterson and this is Mr. Sawyer. We’re here today to talk to you about personal safety.”

Despite his reservations about leading Toxin to Sara’s and Theo’s doorstep, Holt had been persuaded to return to the Academy. Damian had shot down all Holt’s arguments against going to the school, reminding him that nothing should keep him from his son, especially since it was quite likely that Toxin had already observed Holt with Theo. Holt had capitulated on the condition that Sara was okay with him coming. With the awkward ending to their conversation a few days ago, he wasn’t sure she’d agree.

Indeed, Sara had been a tough sell. Though Holt had been eager to get the safety program underway to prepare the students and staff and ease his own guilt, he understood her need to get parent permission slips and find space in the students’ schedules. It had required most of the week, but it had given Holt and Max time to prepare a student-friendly presentation that covered everything from avoiding a fight to an awareness of cyber-stalking—no easy feat given the variance in the kids’ ages.

Mainly, though, he was eager to see Sara for himself, to see that she was healthy and whole and untouched. Though the private security he’d hired to sit outside the school had reported that there’d been no unusual activity, it was hard to focus on his job miles away when his thoughts were at the Academy. He’d also prepared his parents for the worst. Thankfully, his father was an ex-cop and understood how to be wary of strangers, watch for tails and be vigilant in general to increase safety.

His gaze sought out Sara as he handed the microphone off to Max and breathed easy for the first time that week. Her blond hair was pulled back into an artfully messy bun. She stood at the side of the bleachers—which held the entire student body, some three hundred boys—and nibbled on a thumbnail. He doubted she was even aware she was giving away her nervousness. Still, she was beautiful in a classic gray skirt and a teal shirt that picked up the blue of her eyes.

Max launched into his spiel about awareness—of both physical surroundings and interpersonal boundaries in relationships. He kept it short and sweet, wanting to hold the kids’ attention until he could deliver the details about protecting themselves. The crowd seemed to sit a little straighter as Max called for a couple of volunteers to illustrate some self-defense moves. A sea of hands shot up. Good, they’d gotten their attention.

Sara scanned the crowd. Her gaze met his and her smile faltered. She turned her attention to Max’s demonstration.

Max worked with three boys of different ages and sizes to show firsthand—but with a restraint of force—how they could defend themselves against an attacker. The students’ attention was fully on the middle of the gym floor, where mats had been laid out. Max wouldn’t be doing anything too physical with them, but a couple of throws and hold-breaks would be included.

Max walked a middle-school-aged kid through how to turn an attack from behind into an advantage by throwing his elbows out and up while dropping to the ground, using dead weight to escape. He also demonstrated how to thrust his shoulder forward and knock the attacker off balance. Max barely touched the kid, but when the boy hunched his shoulders forward as he’d been told to, Max threw himself to the ground and the Academy student body erupted in applause. The boy’s grin covered his entire face.

Max rose slowly, holding his back as if he’d been hurt, then grinned and patted the kid on the back in congratulations. While Max showed a few other moves, Holt took a turn with the microphone, discussing the techniques and interspersing other information. He reinforced what Theo had said Sara taught them last spring—how to avoid cyber-stalking or unwanted online attention. The world was so different from when he’d grown up.

As Holt summed up, he found himself wanting to snatch up Theo, who sat in the middle of the front row, and wrap him up in a safe cocoon. He could come out when he was twenty-one.
Scratch that.
Thirty-one.

Of course, life didn’t get easier as you got older. As the decades flew by, that was when all the other truths of life hit you, such as what it felt like to lose a loved one. Theo had learned that one early too.

Sara began ushering the students by row out of the gym. She bent to listen to one of the smaller kids, smiled at something he said, then moved him along with the rest of the crowd. Holt’s eyes tracked her hand as it tucked a stray hair back behind the delicate shell of her ear.

Theo came over and presented him with a fist, knuckles out. Holt accommodated him with a fist-bump. “That was pretty good, Dad.”

Holt’s chest swelled. “Did you learn something?”

Theo nodded and his bangs slid into his eyes.

Max finished congratulating the volunteers, giving them the pins Damian had made with the SSAM logo so that they could have something to motivate young kids when they did talks such as these.

“That was a good group,” Max said as he joined them. “You must be Theo.”

“Yeah,” Theo said. “That was a cool presentation.”

“Which part, watching me get thrown to the ground?” Max chuckled.

Sara had seen to the emptying of the gym and couldn’t avoid them any longer. She came over, wariness lurking in her eyes. “Thank you for coming. Theo, you should head to the lunchroom. You don’t want to be last in line.”

Theo looked at his dad. “It’s pizza Friday. Want to stay?”

“Sure,” Holt said. “Save me a spot. I need to talk to Miss Sara for a moment.” He dared Sara to reject him in front of the others. Her chin went up a notch.

Max’s gaze moved between Sara and Holt, reconnoitering the situation like a proper ex-Navy SEAL. He wisely chose a hot lunch over a tense conversation. “Lead me to the chow line, Theo.” After he’d passed Sara, Max glanced back at Holt and gave him a thumbs-up behind her back.

Holt ignored the gesture and turned his complete attention to Sara. “Would you like to join us for lunch?”

“On Pizza Friday? Wouldn’t miss it. But if you’re just asking to be polite...”

“I wasn’t.” He was somewhat surprised to realize his words were true. He wanted to spend some time with Sara. He wanted her easy banter and soft laugh. Besides, she had to have had a rough week, mostly because of him. He hated feeling responsible for her current predicament. “Sorry about all of this.”

Sara huffed out a laugh. “Which part? Turning my life upside down or worrying me to death about my kids?”

“Well, technically it’s Toxin who turned it upside down.”

“No, it was you. We’d better get to lunch before it’s all gone.” She turned away before he registered what she’d said.

He reached out to snag her hand. “Hey, wait a second.”

“What?”

“You don’t drop a bomb and leave. What did you mean by that?” His heart was thumping so loud she had to hear it.

“By what?”

“Don’t play stupid, Sara. We’ve known each other too long. I thought we were done with the games.”

She pulled her hand away. “You’re right. I was more than attracted to you ten years ago. Kissing you wasn’t about breaking you and Elizabeth up. I had feelings for you.”

“That’s it? Hell, that was a long time ago.” And he’d suspected there could have been something, if he’d pursued it. But attraction was fleeting and he could deal with her past feelings. Especially since he was starting to think Sara could be a good friend. She’d proven she was good for Theo, and could be someone Holt could talk to about parenting issues. She was a goldmine. The thought brought his attention to her gleaming hair. Despite the harsh lighting of the gym, it looked incredibly soft. But her eyes had filled with hurt.

“I thought it had been long enough, but apparently not.” The last part of her sentence drifted off and he had to lean forward to hear it. She shifted her weight as if she might turn and bolt, but the new, confident Sara took over. Deep pools of blue met his gaze. “One of the reasons I stayed away from Elizabeth and you was because of my reaction to our kiss, not because I wanted to prove you two were wrong for each other. I only used that as an excuse.”

“I’m not taking the blame for your failed friendship.”

“I’m not blaming you. I take full responsibility. I couldn’t believe I was so horrible as to want what my friend had. And I still do.”

A thick silence fell around them, as if they were the only two people on a stage, playing out a drama. The audience waited, breathless, for the next act. Only Holt had no clue whether this was a tragedy or a comedy, or if there was another act.

Sara must have sensed his confusion. “I’m not expecting you to solve my problems, Holt, so relax. This is my issue, and I’ll deal with it. I just wanted all the cards on the table, so you’ll understand if I’m moody around you, or snap at you, or simply avoid you. Since you’re not keeping your distance from the school anymore, I figured I should let you know.”

“Okay...” He didn’t know what to say that would make things better.

Luckily, she didn’t seem to need a response from him. Shaking her head as if to reset her emotions, she linked her arm with his. Even through the barrier of his shirtsleeves, he was keenly aware of her fingers resting on his forearm. “Now that that’s off my chest, let’s go get some pizza.”

* * *

Sara patted herself on the back. She’d survived lunch with Holt without dying of embarrassment, even managing to eat a few bites. She’d dared to open up to him in the gym, and she had to admit, she felt better now that the past was off her chest.

Now the ball was in Holt’s court, not that she expected him to lob it back to her. They’d probably go back to business as usual—which meant no business at all, unless it was school or Toxin business.

A knock sounded on her office door. “Come in.” She hid her surprise when Neil Rochard poked his head, with its fashionably shaggy mop of dark hair, through her doorway.

“You busy, Miss Sara?”

“I have time. Have a seat.”

He closed the door behind him and dropped into a chair. But his casual slouch didn’t match the way his glance darted around her office or the up-and-down bouncing of his knee. Something was bugging the kid and, with teen boys, she often found direct honesty was the best policy. “I have to say, I’m glad you came by. Surprised, but glad.”

“Yeah, well...” The tempo of his knee-bobbing increased. He nibbled on a thumbnail. Sara waited patiently. He’d come this far. He’d talk when he was ready. “I thought that seminar today was good. Really good.”

“Oh?” Of all the things she’d thought he’d come to talk about, this was last on the list.

“I’m glad someone finally talked about it—bullies and bad people—how to stand up to them, fight back.”

“So many people don’t know they have power until they choose to stand strong.” At her words, his leg stilled and his hand dropped to his thigh. His gaze met hers, then flitted away.

“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.”

“Are you being bullied?” She hadn’t heard anything about it. In fact, as one of the most popular kids in school—a football player from a wealthy family who could be handsome and charming when he chose to be—she’d be downright shocked if someone had targeted Neil.

“No, but I know bullies.”

“Are you here because you’re worried about someone?”

“Sort of.”

“And this someone doesn’t want to step forward on his own?” It was like dropping breadcrumbs to lead him into a conversation.

“They don’t have anyone to stand up for them.”

“That’s sad. You want to share who it is? Maybe I can help.”

Neil looked her directly in the eye. “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“I know my dad hasn’t been nice to you. I’m not blind. And I overheard him talking to someone about you. I think he was trying to get you fired, saying you’re incompetent.”

Sara strove for diplomacy. “Sometimes people don’t say nice things, but it doesn’t always make those things true.”

“I know. And I wasn’t sure what to believe for a while. My dad’s pretty smart about most things. But...I’ve decided he’s wrong about you. You’re okay.”

Was there any more glowing recommendation from a teenager? “Well, thanks. I’m glad you can form your own opinion. And I’m glad you felt you could come talk to me.”

“I didn’t want you thinking I was like my dad.”

Oh, no, she’d never think that. John Rochard was in a class all by himself. “Neil, when I look at you, I don’t see your dad at all. I see a young man who’s going through some normal growing pains, ready to get out there and take on the world. There may be some things in your life you’re learning to deal with, but I have every confidence you’ll get where you need to be when you’re supposed to be there.”

The knee-bobbing resumed. It was a tell—a hint that he was dealing with some emotion deep brewing inside. “You heard about my parents’ divorce?”

“Yes. Is that what’s got you doing things like stealing beer?”

He winced. “I don’t know. I won’t do that again, though. I promise.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“Did you ever take the SATs, Miss Sara?”

“Yes, they had those back in the Dark Ages.”

He grinned. It transformed his face and she had a glimpse of the handsome young man he was becoming. “How’d you score?”

“Above average, but not as high as some people.”

“And you survived.”

“Yes, I did. I am a fairly well-adjusted person who even contributes to society now and then.”

He snorted. “My dad needs me to get close to a 2400 to get into Harvard.”

“What do
you
need? Or, more importantly, what do you want?”

“I
don’t
want to go to Harvard. I
don’t
want to be a lawyer like him, who works on people’s lame lawsuits all day.” His tone had turned fierce. “I’m not sure what I do want, though.”