CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Mandy pulled into her regular parking place behind the school. Three police cars were lined up outside the south entrance. Unusual at any time but especially before school. She glanced at the space near the front of the school where the resource officer usually parked with his K-9 unit. That spot was empty. She shouldered her bag and walked to the side entrance.
The principal, Mr. Lee, stood at the door, talking to one of the officers. He turned his attention to her. “Miss Fowler, I have been trying to reach you. You need to take the day off.”
“Sorry, I had a slight problem yesterday and turned off my phone.”
The officer stepped into her space. “Miss Fowler, I am Officer Keller. What kind of problems?”
“Just crazy text messages.” Seriously, what business is it of the police?
“Have you received any threats?” The officer opened a notebook.
Mandy shifted her weight and immediately regretted it, perhaps she should have waited a few more days before abandoning her crutches. “Can I please go to my room? I need to sit down.”
“I’m afraid your room was vandalized last night, but perhaps we can take a seat in the ceramics room.” Mr. Lee held open the door.
Down the hall, two more officers and some guy who could model for a Marine ad stood outside her classroom.
“Miss Fowler?”
Mandy turned her attention back to the principal, who was holding the back of the rolling teacher’s chair for her. The officer pulled up one of the molded plastic student seats. “Now, back to my question. Were any of them threats?”
“I only read a few of the text messages. They mostly called me names. There were close to 1,600 messages when I turned off my phone.
The principal gave a funny half smile. “If this weren’t such a serious matter, I would laugh. You may have gotten more texts than the entire cheer squad sends in a week.”
Officer Keller held out his hand. “May I see your phone?”
Automatically Mandy reached in her bag to find the pocket empty. “I left it at home. I was going to go get a new one tonight or see if I can get a new number.”
“I’ll give you an abbreviated police report, and your carrier should change the number for you for free.”
That would help a little. “Thanks. There were a couple of scary posts on one of my feeds, but they disappeared while we were reading them.”
“We?” The officer leaned forward.
“My roommate and I.”
“What did the posts say?”
Mandy didn’t want to repeat them. “Most of them called me names. Someone thought I needed an acid bath.”
“Why didn’t you report this to the police last night?”
Mandy blinked. “It never crossed my mind to call the police.”
“But it did cross your mind to get a private security guard?” Officer Keller sat back and crossed his arms.
“Private security? No. We asked one of our artist friends and his husband to stay at the house last night, but Gordon is a sculptor.”
He consulted his notes. “Then you didn’t hire anyone from Hastings Security out of Chicago?”
“Officer, I am a school teacher. I don’t have money for private security.”
Officer Keller called into the hallway. “Mr. Alexander, would you come in here, please?”
The large man stepped into the office. He was built like one of the airbrushed muscle men on the front of romance novels.
“Mr. Alexander, you told me you were acting as a bodyguard for Miss Fowler. However, she seems to be ignorant of that fact, and from the way she is looking at you, I bet you have never been introduced.” Though half a head shorter, Officer Keller didn’t look the least bit intimidated.
“No, sir, we haven’t. I was asked to watch out for her. And so I came to check on her classroom this morning.”
“Who hired you?”
“I am contracted with C & O Enterprises.”
Mandy sucked in a breath.
The officer continued. “Daniel Crawford owns that, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Alexander.” Mandy couldn’t help watching him leave the room.
The principal spoke up. “Your boyfriend must have hired him. That gets Mr. Alexander off my list.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.” She looked heavenward, hoping for a do-over, a candid camera, anything.
The policeman raised a brow. “Well, someone thinks you do.”
Another policeman tapped on the door, a camera in his hand. “I’m all done in there. You can clean up.”
Mr. Lee picked up the room phone. “Mrs. Janice, can you tell custodial they can clean A-103 now?” He listened for a minute before hanging up the phone with a thank-you. “Officer Keller, do you have any other questions for Miss Fowler? Students are starting to arrive.”
“Just a few.” The officer turned to Mandy. “I’d like you to look at your room and see if you can think of any art students who might be our perpetrators.”
Mandy followed the men down the hall, noting Mr. Alexander’s presence. Even knowing her room had been vandalized, she wasn’t prepared for the mess. She slowly turned to take it all in—the broken window, the words painted on the easels and cupboards, her mess of a desk. The school computer had been smashed. Mandy was grateful she kept all her art files in the cloud. She studied the walls and the handwriting. “It is odd they didn’t ruin any student art other than Roderigo’s. And although they tried to copy his style, neither vandal is practiced enough.”
“They?” The officer asked.
“Yes, there are two distinct handwriting styles going on. Notice the capital B’s and the ch. I think there may be a third as the blue paint on the front of my desk shows a lighter hand. She was also the one who painted the caricature on the board. Her strokes are not as bold as Roderigo’s, but she did a decent job of matching his style. Too bad she isn’t left-handed, I would have almost blamed him.”
Principal Lee stepped forward. “You sure it isn’t Roderigo? It looks enough like his work.”
Mandy turned to face the principal. “No, it isn’t his.” She examined the board closer. “I’m positive it isn’t.”
“Then who?”
“Not sure.” Mandy touched one of the letters. “They used tempera paint.” She pointed to the white bottle on the floor—a brand made for kids. “It should wash off easily, but the red may stain. You may want to have the custodian check the manufacturer’s website for tips on paint removal.”
The officer examined some of the words. “Miss Fowler, any reason you say these were girls who wrote this?”
“The round lettering, in general, girls tend to write with a rounder hand.” She turned to Mr. Lee. “Where should I teach?”
“Miss Fowler, I think you should take two or three sick days. With tomorrow being April Fool’s Day, I’d rather you not be here.”
“But I am not sick.” Mandy crossed her arms.
The principal pondered her boot. “You have winced more than once since you walked into the school. I say you need three days of recovery time.”
“But—”
“Look, Miss Fowler. With the threats you have received and the fact it looks like there was student involvement here, I think it’s in everyone’s best interest if you take some sick days. I have already approved the absence and called in a sub.” The principal took a stance she watched him use with belligerent students.
“Well, I guess I will sluff off, then.” She turned to leave.
Officer Keller stopped her. “If you don’t mind, we would like to look at your text messages. I can follow you home and pick up your phone. We will return it today.”
Mandy bit her lip. There were some things on her phone that were personal. “I’ll bring my phone to the station. I’d rather know what you are looking at.”
“Fair enough.”
Mandy eyed the truck in her rearview mirror. It had been following her since she left the police station. Two hours of her life she would rather forget. The truck was identical to the one Daniel drove, but the driver was not Daniel. When she pulled into the parking lot of the cell phone store, so did the truck.
Should she go back to the police station?
The driver exited the truck and came to stand by her door. Mr. Alexander. Mandy opened her door and glared. “You nearly had me driving back to the police station. Are you going to follow me everywhere?”
The big man crossed his arms. “Only until you get home and I can speak with you and your roommate. I meant to let you know before you left the station. I didn’t intend to worry you. I’ll wait out here.” The man returned to the truck. Mandy was sure it was the one Daniel drove.
She was the only customer. Within minutes they assigned her a new number, and she left the store.
Mr. Alexander followed her home.
Mandy parked in the garage next to Candace’s car. Shouldn’t Candace be in class?
Mr. Alexander followed her into the house.
Mr. Alexander followed her into the kitchen.
At the table sat Candace with a man in his fifties who must be Mr. Alexander’s workout partner.
The man stood and extended his hand, Mandy shook it out of politeness. Could this day get any weirder?
“I’m Jethro Hastings of Hastings Security. Have a seat, and I’ll catch you up on what your roommate and I have been discussing.”
Candace’s mouth opened slightly as she ogled Mr. Alexander. “Mr. Hastings was going over the security measures he would like to add to the house and the alarm system.”
“Alarm system? Seriously? No one needs an alarm system around here. Have you ever read the police report in the newspaper? They literally answer calls for barking dogs, and cats in trees. The most excitement they have had in months was the vandalism of my classroom.” Mandy realized her voice was rising with each sentence.
“Miss Fowler, there have been credible threats made against you in the last twenty-four hours. Mr. Crawford feels an obligation to make sure you are safe.”
Mandy mouthed “obligation.”
“If you will please sit, I’ll let him explain for himself.”
Mandy took the seat next to Candace, and Mr. Hastings turned his laptop to face them. The C & O logo was replaced with a video feed of Daniel. Drat, he looked hot in a suit. It took Mandy a second to remember she was furious with him.
“My apologies in advance for cutting this short. They want me in the courtroom in ten minutes. Amanda, will you please hear me out?”
She would have to in front of his security men, so she nodded. Besides, she was powerless against those eyes. The screen must be HD.
“Yesterday when I called, I was trying to apologize for taking you out where people photographed us together, not for taking you out. It was irresponsible for me not to realize what might happen. I don’t expect you to believe it, not with the new photos of Summerset trying to kiss me. Right now my main concern is keeping you safe.”
Candace shrugged her confusion to Mandy’s unasked question. New photos?
“First, let me have you meet Colin, my quasi-silent partner, friend, and ‘techno geek’ extraordinaire.”
The video screen split, and they were joined by a man in glasses with messy hair. Candace grabbed Mandy’s arm under the table. Definitely Candace’s type.
“Hi, Mandy, Candace, nice to meet you. Although you are probably going to hate me in a moment.” Colin’s voice was seductively smooth, like a voice actor in an audio book, the hot-romance type.
Candace gripped Mandy’s arm tighter. Hate was not on her mind.
“For the past thirteen days, I have had a bot monitoring Mandy’s social media accounts. Yesterday when things started going crazy, I took the liberty of trying to further secure your email and blog.”
“You have been spying on me? Isn’t that illegal?” Only Candace’s hand on her arm prevented Mandy from walking out.
Colin gave a tiny shrug. “On the social media, what you post basically has no privacy. The email puts my actions in a gray area but not outside the law so long as your provider knew I was there. But I would suggest you change your passwords on everything. Good job on suspending your accounts quickly yesterday.”
Mandy wanted to scream, but she went into her calm-teacher mode instead. “Are you saying you read everything?”
Daniel jumped back in. “Amanda, a computer program scanned your incoming mail and posts for keywords, like the one your computer uses to determine if you have junk mail. Other than the flagged posts and emails, no human read anything.”
“Flagged emails?”
“Yes, so far there have been about four, but only one of them was malicious. The bigger concern is the social media messages and the text messages the police pulled off your phone earlier today.”
“Just a minute. How do you know about the text messages?” Mandy hadn’t considered that taking her phone down meant she would end up reading more of the texts. In the end, she’d asked them to record what they needed and delete all the unread texts.
Daniel answered her question. “They gave Mr. Alexander a copy of them. As you said, this isn’t exactly barking dogs, so Hastings Security offered its expertise.”
The doorbell rang, Mr. Alexander went to answer it before either woman stood. Something offscreen took Daniel’s attention away momentarily, but then he said, “I am sorry about this, Mandy and Candace. But please let them help you. Hopefully this will blow over in a few days and everyone will forget because there will be something more exciting in the news. I need to go. Mandy, please forgive me. May I have your new number?”
His feed cut off before Mandy answered, which may have been for the best, because the answer going through her mind was along the lines of “When my hamster learns to mop floors.”
Colin was laughing. “Judging by your face, I’m assuming you will not be giving him your number today.”
“Does it matter? I am sure you can find it, seeing how you managed to get into the rest of my life.”
“I can, but I won’t. You will need to give it to Mr. Hastings, but the choice to give it to Daniel is yours.” The solemn expression Colin gave them made Mandy want to believe him. His gaze moved to over her shoulder. “Oh, wow. Where did those come from?”
Looking at the massive bouquet with a stuffed mallard attached, everyone in the room, including Colin, said “Daniel” all at once.
Candace jumped out of her chair and cleared a spot on the counter. “Oh, Mandy, he may have gone overboard, but these smell amazing.” Candace buried her face in the blossoms. She plucked the card out of the pack and handed it to Mandy.
Colin was grinning. “Well, back to business. Hastings, did you draw up the security plan?”
“Yes. New locks, repair the fence, install an alarm system with some outside cameras, front and backdoors, and one in the garage. None in the house.” Mandy was sure the security-team owner added that for her benefit. “We should be able to finish up by tonight if I can get my crew down here.”
“On their way. Candace, Mandy, Mr. Anderson is going to take you to the county airport. You’ll meet a plane with his team on it. The plane will bring you up to Chicago. Bonnie, Daniel’s personal secretary, has arranged for you to have a spa day there while Hastings’s men work on your house.”
“No way.” Mandy crossed her arms.
“Come on, girl. A spa day? In Chicago? That isn’t going to be like getting a facial at the Cut n’ Curl.”
“Fine.” Maybe there would be a hot masseur who would take her mind off everything.
“Ok, I’ll see you two later.” The screen returned to the C & O logo.
Mandy slowly got up from the table and retreated to the bathroom.
Studying her reflection in the mirror, she heard Grandma Mae’s voice. “Amanda Jane Fowler, what on earth have you done now?”
The card she held in her hand had become little more than a crumpled mess. She smoothed the paper out.
Hank’s grandson knows the truth. “Quack-qua, quack-qua-quack-quack.”
Who knew ducks spoke Morse code? But what did he mean by N-Y? She had always been the one to say “not yet” when it was time to say good-bye.
She would give Daniel her number tomorrow—if she survived today.