No Test for the Wicked: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Five (8 page)

Wally shrugged. “Just talking. Getting ready to head home soon.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow, Lara.”

I walked past them and keyed open my car. I heard Wally whistle. “What? You drive a Miata? Did the ‘rents buy that for you?”

“No, I paid for it by myself by, ah, working during the summer and on the weekends.”

“Really?” Piper looked surprised. “Your parents made you do that?”

“My parents didn’t
make
me do anything. But if I wanted a car, I had to get it myself.”

Brandon blinked. “Radical.”

I smiled. “Actually, I think it’s called good parenting.”

Chapter Ten

I fought rush hour traffic and got home about forty-five minutes later. I tossed my backpack on the couch and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. I drank the entire thing while standing at my kitchen counter and then tossed it in the recycle bin.

I was headed to the bedroom when I heard the knock on the door. I checked the peek hole and then opened the door to let Slash in.

He immediately pulled me in for a kiss. “Twenty-four hours is too long to be without you,” he murmured against my lips. Then he leaned back and looked at me with eyes widening.

“You’re blonde.”

My hair was still in the ponytail. I reached up to it and touched it. “You’re not going to freak out, are you? It’s totally weird.”

“No, it’s lovely. And you’re...in a schoolgirl uniform.”

I blushed. “Jeez. I forgot. It’s really embarrassing.”

He shook his head. “No, it’s an entirely different look for you.”

“I’ll go change.”

He put a hand on my arm. “No, please don’t.”

“Why not?”

He reached out, winding a strand of my ponytail around his finger. “Because I have something in mind for later involving that skirt.”

“Yowza.”

He leaned over and pressed a kiss against my neck. “Hey, I didn’t even have to tell you that was a sexual innuendo.”

“I must be improving. You’re a good influence on me.”

“Glad to hear that.”

He sniffed. “Why do you smell like Coke?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Hmmm.” He put his arm around me. “I take it that all of this means your high school operation is underway.”

“It sure is.”

“I can’t wait to hear about it. But first, food. I still feel guilty about the other night.”

“Don’t. It was a sacrifice in the name of national security.”

“Ah, I adore you.” He grinned and walked over to my refrigerator. “What do you have in here that I can whip into our dinner?”

“You’re going to cook?”

He glanced at me over his shoulder. “I told you I could cook.”

“I know, but wow. I never thought I’d say this, but your ability to cook is really turning me on. Is that weird?”

He chuckled. “I’m not protesting. Just remind me to cook more often for you.”

“Anytime.”

Opening the door, he rattled off the contents. “Mustard, wine, milk, soda, beer, butter, grated cheese, eggs, baloney and bottled water.” He frowned at me over his shoulder. “Where are the vegetables?”

“I’ve got a cucumber, tomato and carrot in the top drawer. I usually have lettuce, but I finished it off a couple of days ago on a baloney sandwich.”

He straightened and closed the refrigerator door. “Really? That’s it?”

“That’s it.” I crossed my arms defensively. “It’s not like I’m starving. There are also cornflakes, Cheerios, peanut butter, trail mix, bananas and crackers in the cabinet along with a loaf of mostly mold-free bread. I also have a bag of oranges and apples in the pantry. But most importantly, I have Christmas biscotti and hot cocoa from the all-important holiday food group. I’m actually pretty well stocked. For me.”

He sighed. “Let’s go out to eat.”

“Remember what happened last time we went out to eat? Besides, after the day I’ve had, I’d rather eat at home.”

“Fine. But let’s make a quick stop to get you some more groceries first. I’ll make you dinner, okay? It will be one of Nonna’s recipes.”

I loved Slash’s Italian grandmother. She was the best cook in the world. Perhaps in the entire universe. “Really? Do I get to watch you cook?”

“Absolutely. You can participate, too.”

“Deal.”

A quick trip to the grocery store netted me all kinds of items I had no idea even existed. Within the hour we had Christmas music on the stereo, a delicious-smelling minestrone soup simmering on the stove and a loaf of crusty French bread warming in the oven. We sat on the couch, sipping a nice red wine and enjoying the holiday music, my little twinkling tree and each other’s company.

“So, how did the questioning go with Ansari?” I asked, pulling my legs up onto the couch. I was still in my school skirt, but I wrapped my arms around my legs anyway and rested my chin on my knees.

Slash set his wineglass down and took my stockinged feet into his lap.

I leaned back, closing my eyes as he rubbed. “Oh, my God. Really, that feels amazing. Your hands...they are magical.”

“Good to know.” He continued his ministrations. “Well, Ansari isn’t talking. He completely shut down. We still don’t know the whereabouts of his brother, the others in that apartment or the rest of the bombs. The only person he talked to was you.”

“Couldn’t you search his apartment or something?”

“He’s a ghost. He had no driver’s license or identification on him. No home address, no credit card, no known presence online that we can find. We don’t know where he’s been living. That apartment was rented two months ago and the rent was paid in cash. The name and information on the lease was completely bogus. We traced Zogby’s gun to a batch that was stolen from a police station in southern Virginia and then purchased illegally. We’re currently trying to trace the bomb materials and going through the apartment. So far nothing. The only thing we know for sure is that he is Ansari Zogby. We matched his fingerprints to those on documents provided when he first entered the United States.”

“Tough break. What more do you know about his parents’ background?”

“We’re researching the
Shahid
organization pretty extensively right now. The police arrested Ansari’s parents and convicted them of money laundering for them. It’s interesting because the group has been in the news lately.”

“What did they do?”

“Several minor bombings in Pakistan and one rather high-profile assassination of a popular Pakistani politician who was supporting peace efforts to bring a group called the
Mehsuds
to the table to stop the violence in the country.”

“So what does the
Shahid
have against the
Mehsuds
?”

“The
Shahid
is actually a splinter group of the
Mehsuds
. They broke apart in the late 1990s. Both groups are terrorist organizations by our definition. The
Shahids’
violent actions and support of al Qaeda’s activities has netted them a top spot on our watch list.”

“That’s not good news.”

“No, it’s not. Finding Zogby in the presence of bomb-making materials in such close vicinity to Washington, D.C. has a lot of people at Homeland Security and the FBI quite worried.”

“That’s probably why they kept us so long at the police station.”

“
Si
. That’s part of it. We have a team of agents at the prison now, interviewing the parents, but I doubt we’ll find out anything. As far as we know, they haven’t made contact with their children since they were incarcerated. They’ve also had no visitors.”

I blew out a breath. “This is getting ugly. It was a lucky break you recognized Zogby.”

He tapped his head. “Photographic memory. Just like you.” Setting my feet aside, he stood. “The soup should be ready. Hungry?”

“Famished.”

Slash served up the soup while I cut the bread into thick slices and put butter on the table. We sat at my kitchen table, eating in quiet contentment.

Slash buttered a piece of bread. “Now, let’s hear about your day. How was high school?”

“Well, I’m
trying
to fit in.”

He chuckled. “How’s that working for you?”

“Ugh. Some jerk spilled his drink on me in the cafeteria.” I gave him a quick rundown.

He raised an eyebrow. “He did it on purpose?”

“Yeah. Resident bully and all.”

His mouth hardened. “Do I need to pay said bully a visit?”

“God, no. I’m not worried. He’s just a kid. A royal jerk, but still a kid. I’ve got this.”

Slash didn’t look satisfied, but he nodded. “If you say so.”

I sighed. “Anyway, I hope I get invited into the hackers group sooner than later. Jeez, that reminds me, I still have to do my homework.”

Slash handed me the bread he’d just buttered and smiled. “Need any help?”

I punched him lightly in the arm. “Hardly.”

We finished our soup and I stacked the dishes in the sink to wash later. Carrying our wineglasses, we headed into the living room where the Christmas music was still playing. I tapped my foot to “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”

Comfortably full, I leaned back against the cushions. “Slash, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Remember how you said I could come straight to the source if I needed more information on our relationship?”

“What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I don’t know what to get you for a Christmas present.”

“I don’t want you to buy me anything for Christmas.”

“Are you going to give me a present?”

He was silent.

I threw up my hands. “See. I
have
to get you something. Reciprocity in a relationship is important.”

“But I don’t
need
anything.”

“That’s exactly my problem. What in the world do I get the man who has everything?”

“I’ve already got what I want.”

“That’s not fair. Unless you promise you aren’t going to give me anything, then I
have
to give you something.”

He reached out, wound a strand of my hair around his finger. “Okay, take me to dinner the next time we go out.”

“That’s a gesture, not a gift.”

“Now you’re arguing semantics.”

“In this case, semantics is important. Help me out here. Please.”

“Okay. Let me think about it.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

I blew out a breath. “Thank you. I sincerely mean that. But don’t take too long, okay? I have to order it and then wrap it. Do I have to get a card, too? This is really stressing me out.”

He reached over and took my wineglass, setting it on the coffee table. “Forget about the present. How about we relax instead? I find that certain activities enhance my cerebral function, leading to more creative thoughts.”

“You’re referring to sex again, right?”

Slash smiled and pulled me to my feet. “If you insist.”

I leaned into him. “That was a pretty tricky segue.”

He began nuzzling my neck. “I can be a pretty tricky guy.”

“So I see. Slash, can I ask you something else?”

“Hmmmm...”

“Can you recite a recipe from memory? That cooking thing...it’s pretty sexy.”

He pulled back from my neck and stared at me, his eyes darkening. “Can you wear that skirt to bed?”

I looked down at my skirt. “Done.”

A slow smile crossed his face. “So, would you like that recipe in Italian?”

“Wow.” My breath caught in my throat. “I sure would.”

Chapter Eleven

The next morning I returned to school reinvigorated and ready to get the hacker. I felt like I’d made some progress yesterday, so I’d see what today would bring.

As soon as I entered the corridor, the stench of rotting flesh hit me hard. Everyone around me held their noses. A custodian walked around, hunting the source without any luck.

Breathing through my mouth, I headed for my locker. When I spun the combination and opened the door, a large rat fell out and splatted on the floor at my feet. I jumped back. A girl two lockers down began shrieking, which caused a mini-stampede of students running away from me and screaming so loudly my ears rang.

I bent over and peered at the animal. Definitely a rat.

The custodian ran over and knelt next to it.

“Ah, ha!” He glared at me. “Is this yours?”

“You’re asking me if I own a dead rat?”

“You won’t believe what some kids keep in their locker.”

I pinched my nose shut. “I assure you this rat does not belong to me.”

“But this is your locker?”

“
Was
my locker. I’m definitely asking for a new one.”

He frowned at me. “Why do you have a dead rat in your locker?”

“Good question. Because someone put it there?”

“Like some kind of joke?”

“Well, I’m certainly not laughing.”

“Do you know who did it?”

I did, but I wasn’t going to rat...pun intended. “Not a clue. I’m new here.”

He stared at me and then stood. “Okay. Don’t touch it.”

“Seriously, that’s not going to be a problem.”

He marched off and I studied my locker, trying to figure out the physics of getting the book for my next class out without touching the dead rat on the floor or the gooey stuff covering the book at the top of the pile. If someone had done this to me when I was actually in high school, I’d have skipped school for three days while plotting my online revenge. Now I just found it annoying and disgusting. And I felt sorry for the rat.

“You shouldn’t have stood up for me.”

I turned around and saw Wally. He looked at the rat. “That’s gross even for him.”

“Mack?”

“Who else? He’s a jerk first-class. Because of your association with me, intended or not, you’re now marked. Good thing you’re a senior. It’s going to be several long months for you.”

“How did you know I was a senior?”

“Your class load.”

“How do you know what my class load is?”

“There’s a lot I know. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait.” I reached into my locker and carefully slid a book from the middle of the pile. I carried my coat and backpack with me. No way was I leaving them near that dead rat smell.

“I don’t know where I’m going,” I said, fumbling for my course schedule.

“You have Systems Forensics.”

“Glad to know you’re so familiar with my schedule.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Without a word he showed me where my next class was and then disappeared down the hall. I sat in the class and made a concerted effort to answer a bunch of questions to hopefully get noticed by other tech students. Unfortunately, all I did was attract the puzzled attention of the teacher, who probably wondered if I was secretly plotting to take over her job.

On the way to my next class, Ron, the IT guy, caught up with me and told me Bonnie wanted to talk to me. I entered the office and started to walk back to Bonnie’s room when Marge—um, Ms. Eder—stopped me.

“Excuse me. Just where do you think you are going?”

I turned around slowly. Crap. I’d forgotten I was a student.

“Ah, I was told Ms. Swanson wanted to see me.”

“Then you tell me and I tell her.”

“Right. Sorry.” I returned to the main office and sat down on one of the comfy chairs. After a few minutes, Ms. Eder returned. “You can see her now.”

“Thanks.”

Bonnie was sitting behind her desk when I came in. “Shut the door behind you.”

I did as I was told and sat down.

She slid her glasses off her nose and looked at me. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going. I’m meeting the kids, trying to figure out who is who. I’m just getting started.”

“What’s this I hear about a dead rat being found in your locker?”

“Yeah, about that...I think I raised the hackles of the resident school bully.”

She looked surprised. “Our school has a bully?”

“Yes.”

I’d never really understood how adults could be so clueless about this. Of course there were bullies. I’d been bullied incessantly in high school and it had gone largely unnoticed by any of the school staff. There had been bullies since the beginning of mankind when one caveman hit another one over the head with a club and stole his bison leg for dinner. The severity of the problem was the issue. Apparently no one at this school had reported on Mack yet.

“Who is it?”

“I’ll give you all the details later. Besides, I can’t be certain he was the one who put the rat there. But he is definitely the leading contender.”

She sighed. “Okay. By the way, a couple of the teachers have mentioned your unusual smarts. Mr. Fitzgerald said you appear to have exceptional skills.”

I winced. “It’s a fine line I’m walking. I want to catch the attention of my peers. In order to do so, I have to show off a little. But I don’t want to be too flashy or cocky so I raise anyone’s suspicions. I’m working on it.”

“I understand. This is a very unusual approach to solving our problem, but after assessing it, I think it’s a pretty good one. Ron liked it, too, so I trust the school is in good hands.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I believe that or I wouldn’t have agreed to this.”

I studied her for a moment and decided I liked her. It certainly couldn’t be easy managing a school full of talented kids and yet she’d gone out on a limb to help me figure a creative way to stop the students without insisting on punitive or harsh consequences. It made me wish I’d had a principal like her to come to when I was in high school.

“Thanks again, Bonnie.”

She stood. “Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

I left her office and realized it was lunchtime. I headed for the cafeteria, filled my tray with probably the best food I’d eat all day, then looked for a place to sit.

I made a beeline for Wally, who sat at his usual spot.

He sighed when I sat down. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Being nice to me. I can’t take the stress of being responsible for you.”

My sandwich stopped halfway to my mouth. “Whoa. Stop right there. You’re
not
responsible for me. I’ve got a lock on that all by myself.”

“Then why can’t you be nice to me when no one is looking?”

“Because that’s letting them win.”

“So what? They win anyway. You’re just asking for trouble.”

I put down my sandwich and leaned forward. “Wrong, Wally. Big-time. No one
asks
to get bullied. That’s an important distinction.”

He sighed. “Okay, you’re right. I just can’t wait to get out of this hellhole. Another year and a half.”

I pushed my sandwich aside. I’d lost my appetite. I saw more of myself in Wally than I felt ready to acknowledge. I felt like I should do something about it and about him, but I didn’t know what. Right now what I really needed to remember was my true goal here, which was figuring out what was going on with the renegade kids. I’d hand over the bullying stuff to Bonnie when I left.

“Look, you’ll make it, Wally. Trust me.”

“We’ll see.”

“Just hang in there. College is awesome...or so I’ve heard.”

“It better be.”

I fiddled with the bread on my sandwich. “So, Wally, you didn’t have a chance to tell me what you do for fun around here.”

“There’s supposed to be fun in high school?”

“Ha, ha. I meant extracurricular activities.”

“Oh, those. I’d hardly call them fun. Well, I belong to the Latin Club, the Astronomy Club and the Computer Club. Wouldn’t have joined any of them, but it’s crucial for the college application.”

My eyes lit up. “Hey, I’m interested in the Computer Club. How often do you meet and what do you do?”

He shrugged. “We meet once a week and do some language prototyping, application creation and play with the networks. Sometimes we pick a platform and go through the development process. A couple of the kids are into circuit design. It’s a mishmash group.”

“Does this club have a teacher sponsor?”

“Yeah, Mr. Jouret. He doesn’t know the half of what we do.”

“Which is?”

“Just stuff. Hey, why are you so interested?”

Whoops. Time to back off a little. “I’m looking for something to do after school. There are only so many hours in the day I can spend playing Realm and pretending to do my homework.”

He studied me for a moment. “We meet today. Want to come?”

“Gee, I don’t know. I’ll have to check my social calendar.”

“Smart-ass.”

I grinned. “Which is why I like you, Wally.”

“That’s what all the girls say. If you’re serious, meet me in front of the computer lab after the last bell.”

“I’ll be there.”