Fostering Death (27 page)

I shrugged and turned away.

Clay called after me, “And sorry about that little incident in the warehouse. At least nobody was hurt.”

That made twice recently somebody’d apologized to me. A new record.

The streets were clear, but mounds of dirty snow were piled at the corners. Melted snow had puddled in depressions on the sidewalks and frozen overnight into slick patches. As I walked, I pictured taking Kelly, soft and warm from a shower and wrapped in her bathrobe, into my arms and burying my face in her soft fragrant hair. I’d need to grab a quick shower myself, of course, after working all night, but that would only heighten the anticipation.

No lights showed through the windows at Kelly’s house. I went up to the front door and rang the bell.

Chris opened it. Not good. Forget any tumbles in bed, quick or otherwise.

“Did you miss the school bus?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Brianna won’t get ready again.”

“Where’s your mom?”

“She didn’t get up yet.”

Keeping a few choice words to myself, I went in.

Brianna, still in her pajamas and her hair a mess, was sitting at the kitchen table, two Pop-Tarts and a glass of milk in front of her. “I don’t
like
chocolate Pop-Tarts,” she said. “I only like strawberry ones. With frosting and sprinkles.”

Chris rolled his eyes. “We don’t
have
any strawberry.”

What did Kelly think she was doing? Frustrated, I took the stairs two at a time and threw open the half-closed door to her room.

She lay face down, the bedding tangled around her. The room smelled of spilled whiskey.

I shook her arm. “Kelly! What are you
doing
? You got a hearing this morning. And the kids aren’t even in school.”

She stirred but didn’t raise her head. “Let me sleep.”

“You lose custody, you can sleep in whenever you want.”

She rolled over and squinted at me. “What?”

“You gonna get up and get your kids to school so you can make the custody hearing?”

“I feel sick. I’ll call and tell them I can’t make the hearing.”

“You do that and they’ll probably hold the hearing anyhow. You just won’t be able to present your side.”

She sat up and started crying. “I can’t do this.”

“You
have
to do this.”

“I don’t
have
to do anything.”

“You do if you want to keep what you got.”

Anger flared in her eyes. “And I suppose
you’re
so successful you can tell me what I should be doing.”

I took a deep breath. I could just leave. Or I could try to reason with her, unreasonable as she was right now. Meeting anger with anger would do no one any good. “I don’t got kids. I don’t got near as much to lose as you do,” I said. Just my freedom.

“So what?”

I looked down at her in disgust. “You got two great kids. You got a decent job. You got a nice house and a car. You’re working on losing all that. So you can drink. Your choice, but make sure you’re ready to live with the choice you make.”

“I’m gonna throw up.”

“So get into the bathroom. And when you’re done puking, take a shower.”

She rushed past me and slammed the bathroom door. From behind the closed door, I heard retching sounds. I headed downstairs to get the kids ready. Definitely not the morning I’d hoped for.

The kids went to get dressed. I made two mugs of instant coffee, cleaned up the kitchen, and started packing two lunches for school.

When everyone, Kelly included, was assembled in the kitchen, I handed the kids their backpacks. “All set?”

No one looked particularly cheery.

Chris was carrying a long, awkward shape wrapped in a beach towel.

“The solar system project?” I asked.

“Yeah. I brought it home to finish over the weekend.”

It was long and clumsy. Maybe just as well he wasn’t trying to carry it on the bus.

I helped Brianna with the zipper on her jacket and fastened my own.

Kelly put her hand to her forehead. “I
really
can’t drive, Jesse.”

“Well,
I
can’t drive. What time is your hearing?”

“I dunno. This morning.”

“You got the papers?”

She reached into her bag and handed me the envelope. I pulled the summons out and scanned it. “Holy shit, Kelly. It’s for nine thirty. That’s in, like, ten minutes.”

We bundled out the door and into the car. Kelly fumbled with her keys and backed out of the driveway.

“You’d better just drop us off at the school and take off for the courthouse,” I said. “I’ll sign the kids in.”

Kelly turned sad eyes toward me. “I blew this good, didn’t I?”

“We got no time for that nonsense. We can talk it out later if you want to. Right now you got to show up in court. And be able to tell them the kids are in school, where they belong.”

She looked at the road again. “And I got to do something about work.”

“Like show up? You sure do.”

“No, I mean about that new system.”

I looked at her. “Why are you so bent out of shape about the damn new system? Things change. We learn the system. Shouldn’t be any big deal.”

A sob escaped from her. “It is to me.”

“What d’ya mean?”

Angrily, she wiped her eyes. “I worked so damn hard to be able to do that damn job.”

I didn’t see it was
that
difficult, but I just said, “Yeah. So?”

“So just when I think I’ve just about got it down pat, they go and
change
everything.”

“Just changed the paperwork. What’s the big deal?”

She gripped the steering wheel. Her knuckles turned white. “Jesse. I can’t read.”

“You can’t read?” I repeated stupidly.

“Yeah. So I got all the packing slips and bills of lading figured out, where the stock numbers are and where the quantities are. And then they
change
them. And put all this extra crap on the paper so I can’t find what I need.”

I remembered the root basket shipment we’d messed up. “Does John know that?” I asked.

“Hell, no. He thinks you
got
to be able to read to do most of those jobs. I’m not gonna tell him.”

Closing my eyes, I tried to picture what the paperwork looked like. Lots of verbiage. Lots of numbers. Complicated.

“Look,” I said. “We’ll worry about that later. There isn’t
that
much in writing on our shift. Maybe we can show up a few minutes earlier and go over them together.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Sure. But that’s not the biggest problem now.”

“Oh?”

“You getting to the hearing is.”

We pulled into the school’s parking lot. The last of the buses was leaving. A big white van pulled into a handicapped space, its engine idling.

“Should I wait for you?” Kelly asked.

“No. You get to the courthouse.”

“Are you gonna come over later?”

“To your place?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Maybe there was some hope to salvage some time in bed with Kelly yet today.

Chapter 20

W
IND
W
HIPPED
A
CROSS
the school parking lot as Kelly drove off. Chris was struggling to hang onto his project, so I took it.

A swirling gust tore Brianna’s hat from her head and sent it skittering across the pavement and under the van parked in the handicapped space.

Brianna clutched at her head. “My hat!”

“Let’s get you and Chris up on the sidewalk. Then I’ll see if I can’t get your hat.”

Chris headed for the sidewalk, but Brianna just stood there, staring at the spot where her hat had disappeared. I tugged on her hand. She didn’t move.

Sighing, I scooped her up and hurried to catch up to Chris. “Hold her hand,” I told him as I deposited her next to him.

I went down on my knees next to the van and peered underneath. I could see the hat, but I couldn’t reach it. I went around to the other side. Putting Chris’s project down and lying on the cold damp asphalt, I inched my head and shoulders under the van until I could just snag it.

As I grabbed the project and stood up, a movement around the side of the building caught my eye, but when I turned and looked, I couldn’t see anything.

The kids were looking toward that side of the building as I came up to them.

I handed the hat to Brianna. “Hang onto it.”

Chris looked at me and then back to the corner of the building. “Weren’t you just over there?”

“No. I was getting Brianna’s hat from under the van.”

“I thought I saw you around there.”

“Must have been somebody else.”

“But he had on
your
jacket.”

“I got my jacket right here, on me. Must have been a jacket like mine.”

“I guess.”

Brianna still didn’t want to move, so I switched Chris’s project to one hand and lifted her up.

“You’re getting too big for people to carry, honey,” I said.

The same ladies as last time were in the office, including Mrs. O’Neill. She looked us over and raised her eyebrows. “I suppose Mrs. Mathias is sick again?” she said.

“Yes, ma’am.” I didn’t have much else to say.

“We’re not very late this time,” Chris said.

“Almost a half hour.” Mrs. O’Neill turned toward us. Her lips were pursed, and I noticed the hand that clenched her clipboard was white. She had a funny look on her face. “How fortunate that Mr. Damon is able to bring you to school.”

I wondered if she’d looked up information on me since my last visit. My conviction was, of course, public record.

A phone rang in the back office, a kind of funny ring. The secretary got up and went to answer it. She hung up, looked hard at me, picked up the receiver again and without putting it to her ear she punched in a short number.

Was she calling 9-1-1? I didn’t see why, unless she was of the opinion that I was on the sex offender registry. Then I would not be permitted within so many feet of a school, and here I was
in
a school. But I wasn’t a sex offender, and I wasn’t required to register.

“Can we go to class?” Chris asked.

“As soon as Ms. Rivers gets back and can get you signed in,” Mrs. O’Neill said. Her voice quivered. “She needs to write a late pass for you.”

Ms. Rivers showed no sign of returning to the counter.

Two men came down the hallway and into the office. One was dressed in a suit and tie, the other wore sweats and had a whistle on a lanyard around his neck. Probably the gym teacher. Both of them were big men, towering over me. They stood on either side of the door, watching us as Mrs. O’Neill fumbled with the clipboard. The gym teacher bounced gently on the balls of his feet. He held his hands at his sides, but both of them formed fists.

I shifted Brianna’s weight in my arms uneasily. Hairs on the back of my neck prickled; I wanted to be out of there. But I didn’t want to upset the kids.

Chris set his backpack on the floor and unzipped his jacket.

“You want this?” I asked him, holding out the wrapped solar system project.

Mrs. O’Neill screamed and fled into the back office.

Chris grabbed my leg. His face was white and drawn.

I eased Brianna down to the floor. “Stand up, honey,” I said. “You and Chris go on to your classrooms.”

“We need our late passes,” Chris said in a small voice. His hand clutched the hem of my jacket.

“I don’t think you need to wait for the passes,” I said, trying to make eye contact with the man in the suit. “Somebody will bring them down later if they need them.”

Just as the big man nodded, we heard a sharp retort and the sound of glass shattering from the front entrance.

The two men bolted out the office door into the hallway.

The public address system crackled to life. “Code red. This is a code red. This is not a drill.”

Couldn’t be good. I might be in real trouble. For what, I didn’t know.

A hall monitor dashed into the office, eyes opening wide as she looked at me. She darted toward the back office.

From outside, I could hear a siren screaming, heading in this direction.

“Take the kids with you,” I said, pushing Chris and Brianna toward the women beyond the door. Whatever was going on, I didn’t want them to be part of it.