Calculated Revenge
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“When the news articles about you ceased.”
“That’d be the time. Look,” he squared his gaze with hers, “I won’t go into detail, but the wheels came off on an investigation and an innocent person died.”
“Was it your fault?’
“I ask myself that every day.”
A wounded laugh bubbled from her throat. “Join the club. I ask myself the same thing about Gracie.”
Noah leaned his elbows on his desk and studied the woman before him. “Why would her death be your fault?”
Her gaze fell away. “I was the big sister, the protector. I was supposed to walk Gracie all the way home from school that day. Instead, I went as far as our home block, then I ran off with my friends to play. I figured she could make it the rest of the way by herself. I was wrong.” She lifted her head, cheeks whitewashed. “It was my birthday. I wanted to have some fun, and my fun cost my sister her life. What a selfish little fool!”
“Aw, Laney.” Noah reached a hand across the desk, though it couldn’t reach far enough to touch her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard stories like that from family members looking for someone to blame. Quite often themselves. One moment of common carelessness ends in tragedy, and people can’t forgive themselves for being human. You were just a kid being a kid.”
Laney’s hard expression shattered, and she sobbed. “I hope…” she hiccupped “…one day…I can believe that.” Tears made twin tracks down her cheeks.
Blinking away the sting behind his eyes, Noah grabbed a tissue from the box on his credenza. He came around his desk and handed it to her. She took the tissue and scrubbed as if she would wipe away memories.
“I hope you take those words to heart. They’re true.” Noah laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hard-won truths like that are the best I can offer. Please keep your knowledge about my former business name and occupation to yourself. Investigating is not in me anymore.”
She stared up at him. “You’re wrong. A gift like that doesn’t just go away. If you can lie to yourself so completely, how can I be sure you’re not telling me a pretty story, too?” She shrugged off his hand, then rose like a grand diva and stalked from the room.
Noah watched her leave, every thought frozen in his brain. A few moments later, he shook himself. Her statement was ridiculous. He wasn’t lying about being washed up. She didn’t know what she was talking about. How could she? She wasn’t there when it all went down.
The sound of drawers opening and closing in the outer office signaled that Miss Aggie had arrived. Had she encountered the irate Laney Thompson? Noah stepped into the reception area. One look at his secretary’s face told him what he needed to know.
“You are going to help that poor girl?” Miss Aggie pronounced.
“But—”
“No excuses, young man.” She shook a finger at him and turned away.
Noah retreated into his sanctuary. What did Miss Aggie know about him? How did she find out? The same way Laney did?
He plopped down behind his desk and put his head in his hands. Lord, how can I take the chance again? But how could he live with himself if something bad happened to either Laney or Briana because he didn’t get involved? He slumped against his chair and tilted his head back, scrubbing his cheeks with his palms. Then again, how could he survive if he did take the case, and the worst happened anyway?
The miserable morning passed like an ant crawling across hot coals. Most of those coals were hidden behind Miss Aggie’s silent stares. Near noon, he escaped to help supervise the early recess. Some of the adult workers seemed subdued after yesterday, but if anything, the children were more boisterous and active. Noah kept busy making sure they used the equipment safely and respected each other’s boundaries, but he didn’t forget to push the swings and give rides on the merry-go-round.
Laughing, Noah drifted toward the fence to take a break and observe the whole playground. A figure in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head and froze.
A short, burly man in a business suit stood in a shadowed spot near the fence. Hands fisting and flexing, his gaze devoured one specific cluster of giggling little girls.
FOUR
Noah spoke a few words to one of the aides on the playground. She hurried toward the building to call the police. A fast walk took Noah to one of the openings in the fence about fifty feet from the man in the suit. He kept the corner of his eye on the intruder, but was careful not to stare in a way that might draw attention. If this louse was up to no good, the smallest hint that he’d been spotted would send him scuttling away. The man’s focus never wavered from the children. Noah’s lips thinned. Maybe his caution was wasted on the pervert.
Reaching the street, he circled behind the guy. He needed to catch him by surprise. His pulse thundered in his ears, and the burn on his face didn’t come from the sun. The muscles in his arms and legs tensed like piano wires. Patience. Remember? That’s how it’s done. His fists would rather make pulp out of a sicko like this than hold him for the police, but that’s what he’d do, law-abiding civilian that he was.
Just a little bit closer. Almost there. His breathing sounded way too loud in his own ears.
The guy ran a hand across a bald spot on the back of his head and then turned from the fence. His eyes widened to find Noah almost upon him.
“Hold it! We need to talk,” Noah said.
The man yelped and whirled away. Noah charged and his fingers closed on the back of the man’s suit jacket. The intruder jerked the smooth fabric out of Noah’s grasp as he took off up the sidewalk at a sprint. Surprisingly quick for his squat stature, he gained a few strides. Then Noah ducked his head and put his own sprint into gear.
The man darted onto the street, heading for a blue Impala parked and running at the curb a short way up the street. Oh, no, you don’t! Their feet thundered in near unison across the pavement. Noah lunged forward and rammed into the stalker as they reached the rear of the car. The stocky guy was more flab than muscle, and Noah’s shoulder buried itself in the man’s back. Breath exploded from the guy’s gut, and they fell across the rear end of the Chevy. The acrid stench of car exhaust bit Noah’s nostrils as he struggled to control the flailing man.
“I…didn’t do…anything!” The stalker’s voice came out in hoarse pants.
“Strangers…staring at…little kids…don’t sit well with me.” Noah finally wrestled the guy to the pavement and clamped his wrists together while he pressed his knee into the small of the man’s back.
The sudden bleep of a siren announced the arrival of a city black and white that pulled up beside the Impala. Deputy David Carlson climbed out.
“What have you got here?” The officer hustled toward them, then stopped short. “Eddie Foreman!”
The man beneath Noah quit wiggling. “You know this guy?” Noah stared up at the deputy.
“Me and Ed went to school together. He moved to Watertown, South Dakota, about an hour from here, but he’s okay.”
Noah glared down at his captive. Just because a local police officer was acquainted with the suspect didn’t mean he wasn’t guilty. But the man wasn’t likely to run again with both a cop and a principal breathing down his neck. Noah released Eddie’s arms, stood up and backed away a marginal step.
The stalker struggled to his feet, huffing, face apple-red. He adjusted his suit jacket. “I told you I wasn’t doing anything.”
“Now, Ed,” Carlson crossed his arms, “lurking around school yards is frowned upon, even in Cottonwood Grove.”
Ed’s gaze fell to loafers that had seen better days. “You knew Bonnie and I split?”
“You don’t say!” The officer’s arms fell to his sides.
Noah stared from one man to the other. What was this? Old home week?
“Yeah.” Ed lifted his eyes. Sad, all right, just like Briana described. “She got custody of Becca and moved back to the old hometown. I was just—” A soft sob left the man’s barrel chest, and he rubbed a pudgy hand across his face. “I deliver office supplies around here, and then I stop at noon to catch a glimpse of my girl. That’s all.” He sent a glare toward Noah.
Carlson’s face pinched. “Sure am sorry, but you’d best not be hanging around the school grounds without permission.”
“I understand.” The other man nodded. “I’ll go now.” He shuffled toward his car door.
“Hey, wait. You can’t—” Noah started, but the officer lifted a palm. He clamped his lips shut against angry words. This guy was not cleared of anything in his books.
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