Liars' Games (Project Chameleon Book 1) (25 page)

“I get it,” a male student Claire recognized as Johnny said. “So it’s about calculating odds. Is that it?”

“You’ve got it
.”

“What happens if a suspect has no idea what his partner is going to do?”

“It’s always best to confess. The only way you can come out better is if neither of you confesses, which is taking a really big risk.”

Several students nodded.

Claire continued. “I’ve often heard students complain that math doesn’t apply to real-life, but it does. You’ll use basic math to manage your finances, figure out budgets, figure out percentages, etc. You can use more advanced math if you go on to study Game theory, which I briefly introduced you to. Game theory is the study of probability, a branch of mathematics focusing on the application of mathematical reasoning to competitive behavior. It’s used in economics, psychology, biology, political science, philosophy, logic, and computer science. Businessmen even use it in setting prices, say for bids on contracts.”

“Hey, it can probably help drug dealers who are competing with other dealers,” one student said.

Claire sighed.
Yeah, they have the idea. I guess that’s something at least.

ON MONDAY EVENING when Claire went to pick up Marcus, Kate said, “I’m sorry to tell you this
, but I can’t watch Marcus anymore.”

“What? Why not? Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Is it because you have to watch him in your home? We could try back at my home if that’s the reason.” She didn’t like the idea, with the watcher getting bolder, but she hated to lose Kate and she would do whatever was necessary.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Claire gave Kate her final daycare payment and whisked Marcus into the car. What was she supposed to do on such short notice? She was so preoccupied with her worries that she didn’t notice Marcus was crying until they were halfway home.

“It’s all right, Marcus. I know you’ll miss Nanny Kate, but it’ll be fine.”

In the rearview mirror she saw him raise his tear-streaked face. “She doesn’t like me, Mommy. She called me a freaky little bastard.”

What? Oh, bloody hell.

“Did she say why, Marcus?”

“
She said I’m not like other kids.” His voice dropped to a whisper and Claire had to strain to hear him. “I ask too many questions.”

That could mean more than one thing. Maybe Kate was doing things that he questioned, that he suspected were wrong.
Or it could mean that he pestered her with questions she didn’t know how to answer. That seemed most likely.

“What kind of questions?”

“You know, Mommy. Like why do some clouds make rain and some make snow? Or, why do some letters make more than one sound? ”

Yes, she did know. She’d been the same way when she was young.
At age four, she’d been the youngest, smallest kid in class and the other kids had made fun of her because she was always either answering all the teacher’s questions or bombarding the teacher with more questions.

“I’m really sorry, my love. Unfortunately, people can be cruel, especially when they don’t understand you. You are different from most kids. Not freaky, but unique, sweetie. So am I. I understand you more than you could possibly know.” She fought back tears and paused a moment, hoping that she could speak without betraying her emotions
. “Sooner or later you’ll have to get used to some people not understanding and being mean. Perhaps it’s time to enroll you in a preschool. That way, you can play with other kids and learn, too.”

His face lit up. “School? Yes.”

Great.
Now she had to find an acceptable preschool, one that would accommodate a special little boy. God, she hoped she could find that—and quickly.

  The following morning, Claire called Ron and told him she would be late to work and explained why. It took her half of the day, but she did find a preschool/daycare that she felt comfortable with
and that would accept a new student. Marcus had been a bit shy at first, when the director introduced him to the other kids, but he quickly made friends with several boys. She interrupted their play for a minute to say goodbye. “I’ll pick you up after work, okay?”

C
HAPTER TWENTY

A WEEK AND
a half after Claire had announced the school facelift plan at the second parents’ meeting, final preparations for the big day were underway. Parents, students, and faculty would begin work at nine o’clock Saturday. That, of course, assumed everyone who signed up actually showed up and brought with them what they had agreed. Recognizing that was a pretty big assumption, Claire was keeping her fingers crossed in hopes that her fears wouldn’t come to pass. Steve wouldn’t be there. She wasn’t even sure if he knew about the remodeling project. She hadn’t seen him in two weeks and he hadn’t attended the second parent meeting. He had even cancelled their date for last week, saying he had to take time off from work and travel to Massachusetts to visit his mother who was in the hospital undergoing surgery.

Claire had
left color schemes for classrooms up to the students and teachers to plan together, while she, Ron, and the others in the Admin office had picked the colors for offices, hallways, and the main lobby. Paint and hardware store owners had donated much of the paint, but Claire had bought the rest of the paint with her own money.

By Friday afternoon,
she had obtained estimates for a new heater and had scheduled the installation of the new heating system for Wednesday of the following week. She’d also spoken over the phone with a parent who owned a lighting business about replacing several damaged lights in the building hallways. He said he’d be at the school Saturday, since he and his daughter, Jenny, planned to help with the painting. “I’ll ask Jenny to introduce us while we’re there,” he’d said, “and we can go over options.”

Frank and his family were among the first to arrive
early Saturday, after Claire and Ron. Frank’s wife Gloria was an attractive blonde with flaxen blond hair halfway down her back. She was a bit heavy, but not much, maybe fifteen pounds overweight. Amy was a slender, pretty fourteen-year-old with waist-length blonde hair. Kyle was a football-playing sixteen-year-old, and a charmer with light curly brown hair and an adorable smile. Both kids sported their father’s blue-gray eyes.

“What grade
s are you in?” Claire asked.

“I’m a freshman,” Amy said, “and he’s a junior.”

“Where do you go to school?”

“Wilkins High School,” Kyle said, “but I’m beginning to wish I went here.”

They talked and laughed for a while until others arrived
. Soon the building was a madhouse, bustling with activity. Claire was delighted. She had been expecting three-hundred-fifty people total, but by ten o’clock, she suspected there was closer to five-hundred-fifty. Ron was in charge of directing and assigning tasks to avoid total chaos. Claire was responsible for answering questions and resolving any problems that might arise.

While Claire was painting in the faculty lounge, she heard a familiar voice talking to Frank. She looked up and saw Steve in the doorway. He and Frank were joking around. When they finished, Steve approached her and smiled.

She looked around. No one was watching them, and she said, “I thought you were still out of town. I’m really glad you could make it. I’ve missed you.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything.
Frank told me about it. What can I do to help? Oh, and by the way, I’ve missed you, too.”

“Grab a paint brush or a roller, your choice.”

An hour later when Ron made an announcement over the intercom that pizza, hot dogs, sodas, and other foods had arrived, compliments of local pizza restaurants, the faculty, and parent donations, there was a mad rush for the cafeteria.

After lunch
Jenny introduced her father to Claire. He’d brought with him several options for replacement lights. Claire made her choices, and he promised he’d have replacements installed next Tuesday.

It was a
costly improvement she’d have to pay for out of her own pocket, but the employees and students had earned a reward. Claire was grateful she could afford it. Having improved lighting in the school halls would be worth its weight in gold. Fewer dark hiding places meant less crime. At least she hoped so.

By the end of the day, the whole school was a cheerier place.
Although it was too cold really enjoy being outdoors, volunteers did manage to trim back the bushes, making them less conducive to hiding. They also shoveled and raked in several yards of mulch that had been delivered the previous day. Everyone was tired, but pride showed in all their faces as they appraised their work. It looked good, inside and out. Claire felt an overwhelming pride, too, not only in the work, but also in these people who were laughing and enjoying themselves.

After almost everyone had gone, Claire and Steve stayed to
move bags of trash left behind to the school trash bin. As they walked through the building, Claire had a better chance to really take in and assess all the changes to the building. The main entrance was immaculate and bathed in light. The walls would hold the fresh paint smell for a while, but even without the smell no one could miss the abrupt change from its prior dingy gray to the now bright creamy yellow.

Incredible. Even the lockers in the long hallway visible in the distance
shined from their fresh coat of tan paint coordinating with the original gold-flecked tan linoleum floors, scrubbed cleaned and waxed to a glistening sheen. Large plants set in brightly colored adobe clay pots had been donated by a local nursery and arranged in strategic places, giving lively splashes of red and orange and blue and green.

Doors to
the various offices and classrooms were painted a warm, burnt orange as a splash of bright color, while the trim around the doors and windows was painted the same calming tan as the lockers. The stairs still had their original walnut risers and concrete treads, but the old, black wrought iron railings were now painted the same tan color as the lockers.

The overall effect was warm and welcoming.

After locking up, Steve and Claire left and walked around the side of the building toward the faculty car park adjacent to a side street lined with old two-story houses and tall oak trees whose roots had over the years lifted up the sidewalk in many places.

“Where are you parked?” Claire asked.

“Down the road on this street.” He pointed straight ahead. “I’m about a block down. That’s what happens when you get here late. Both parking lots were full. I’ll walk with you to your car, though.”

“That’s all right. You don’t have to do that. It’s been a long day and we’re both tired. No sense walking more than you have to.”

“Okay. I’ll call you later. I’d give you a kiss before I leave, but it’s probably not a good idea. Could be some students lingering around.”

“True. Good night. Thanks for all your help.” She waved and turned to the right and walked across the car park. When she
reached her car and took out her keys, she felt someone standing next to her. Steve must have changed his mind. She turned to speak to him and gasped. The man with wavy blond hair was standing two feet from her. She backed up and bumped up against her car.

Was he going to kill her? She glanced right and left. Could she make a
break for safety?

“Don’t bother running,” he said. “I was on my high school track team and my college’s track team. You won’t outrun me.”

She took a deep breath to calm herself. “Why have you been following me? Who are you?”

“
I’m doing my job, which is to find out about you.”

“Who hired you, and why?”

“That’s privileged information.”

“
Not good enough,” she shouted. “You made me drive recklessly when you were chasing me, and if it weren’t for that police officer who pulled me over, you probably would have caused an accident.”

“Not my fault you’re a lousy driver.”

“I’m not. Anyone would drive too fast if they were being chased. Don’t try to put the blame on me.”

“Have it your way. But there’s something you need to know, I saw you in that café with Leo.”

“What? How’d—” She clamped her mouth shut. How did he know Leo’s name?

“He’s a U.S. Marshall. I’ve seen him before. After I saw him, I put everything together. You’re in WITSEC.
I’m sure there are people who will pay big money for knowledge of your whereabouts. But I’m willing to keep your secret—for a price.”

“I—I don’t know what to say. I need time to think.”

“Don’t wait too long.”

“How do I contact you?”

“I’ll be around, Claire.”

Her mouth dropped open and her heart was beating so fast she thought she would pass out. She fumbled with her keys and somehow unlocked her door
. As she tried to open the door, her hands were shaking, but she managed to get into the car and quickly lock the door. He was still standing there. She pulled straight out of her parking spot and sped out of the lot. In her rearview mirror she saw him walking toward a grey sedan parked against the back of the building.

STEVE HAD REACHED his car
and gotten in, and was turning the car around so that he could drive back to the main road when he saw Claire talking to a middle-aged man. They were clearly arguing. Was he a disgruntled teacher? A parent maybe?

He pulled over to the side of the road and watched. She got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot without looking, her tires screeching in the process. Something was wrong.

The man was walking toward the only car in the lot. Steve pulled in, stopped crossways behind the gray car as the man was getting inside. Steve got out of his car and approached the man.

Almost instantly, the man jumped out of his car and waved his arms at Steve. “What the hell are you doing? You’re blocking my car.”

“We need to talk.”

“Oh, yeah. About what?”

“Claire Constantine. I saw you two talking. It looked like you were arguing.”

“What business is it of yours?”

“I’m the district’s superintendent. You’re on school grounds and arguing with my employee. It’s my business.”

“I don’t have to talk to you.”

“Yeah, you do. I’ll call the police if you don’t.”

“I don’t think your boss would like that very much.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m working for him. You better talk to Richmond before you go threatening me with getting the police involved.”

“What kind of work are you doing for him?”

“Let’s just say you don’t really know any
thing about Claire Constantine. Now get out of my way.”

Steve glared at him, but decided he should take this up with Richmond in the morning.