Baker's Deadly Dozen Page 10

  “But Chase could still be expelled.” Ronnie stepped away from the wall. “I know I should be mad at him right now . . . I am mad at him . . . but he really was nice to me last year. And I guess I can’t blame him too much. I mean, Miss Trahearne is so freakin’ gorgeous! I’m sure she came on to him, and he couldn’t help it.”

  She was already trying to talk herself out of being angry with him, Phyllis thought. She wasn’t really surprised. A crush like the one Ronnie had on Chase Hamilton was pretty resilient.

  “I know it’s a lot to ask,” Ronnie went on, “but could you talk to Mr. Shula? I know the two of you used to work together, and I’m sure he’d listen to you, Mrs. Newsom.”

  “You want me to ask him to go easy on Chase?”

  “He can punish him. Just don’t kick him out of school.”

  Phyllis didn’t say anything for a moment. Chase being expelled might be the solution to the problem. Ronnie wouldn’t be around him all the time anymore. Her feelings for him might fade.

  Or she might feel that he’d been treated unfairly, and that sympathy might make her crush even stronger.

  One thing was certain: Ronnie was reaching out to Phyllis right now because she was hurting, and Phyllis didn’t want to refuse her that help.

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Shula,” she said. “But I can’t promise anything.”

  “Thank you!” Ronnie took her by surprise then, throwing her arms around Phyllis and hugging her. That was the first time that had happened. “If there’s anything I can do to pay you back . . .”

  “Just look at things with clear eyes from now on,” Phyllis said. “Don’t let yourself be blinded by your feelings.”

  Even as she said it, she knew how difficult that was even for people with many decades of life experience. For a teenager, it was almost impossible to put feelings aside and be pragmatic. Even if Ronnie just made an effort to do so, though, it might help.

  “I can do that,” Ronnie said. “Should I ride home with you today?”

  “Why don’t you go with your grandfather?”

  “Do you have something else you need to do?”

  Phyllis said, “I suppose I’ll go talk to Mr. Shula. I suspect Mr. Brooks has already been there, as angry as he was the last time we saw him.”

  “That guy is the worst!”

  Phyllis didn’t know that she would go so far as to say that, but she didn’t feel any natural liking or sympathy for Ray Brooks. Logically, though, he hadn’t really done anything wrong. Chase and Amber were the ones who had crossed the line, she thought.

  Phyllis and Ronnie walked together to the mall, where Ronnie went toward the hall where Sam’s classroom was located while Phyllis turned left toward the main offices.

  The secretary wasn’t at her desk in the outer office, but Phyllis heard voices coming from the hall that led to the principal’s office. She knew she was butting in, but she had told Ronnie that she would do what she could to help Chase.

  Sam might not appreciate that. He’d probably be fine with it if Chase was kicked out of school. But Phyllis could only follow her instincts.

  The door to Tom Shula’s office was open. Shula stood behind the desk, Ray Brooks in front of it.

  Shula looked past the security guard toward the door. He was a medium-sized man in his fifties, mostly bald with a fringe of brown hair around his ears and the back of his head. He said, “I’m sorry, Phyllis, I’m a little busy right now—”

  “She’s here to stick up for that little weasel,” Brooks broke in. “That little blue-haired tramp is the granddaughter of the guy she’s shacked up with. Everybody knows that. The girl probably begged her to put in a good word for Hamilton.”

  Shula’s voice was sharp as he said, “Watch your mouth, Ray. We respect other people in this school.”

  “Yeah, Amber and the Hamilton kid have probably been respectin’ the hell out of each other.”

  “That’s enough! Do you want to file a formal complaint?”

  “You bet I do,” Brooks said. “I want him expelled and the slut fired.”

  “Write it up,” Shula said. “Write it up and submit it, and I’ll take it under consideration.”

  Brooks glared. “That’s it?” he demanded. “You’re gonna sweep this under the rug?”

  “I said I’d take it under consideration.”

  “And I’ll take it to the damn school board—and the cops!”

  “I’m asking you not to do anything for the time being, until I’ve had a chance to look into the incident.” Shula glanced at Phyllis. “You were a witness to what happened, is that right?”

  She nodded and said, “I saw most of it.”

  “Have you got a minute so I can ask you some questions?”

  “Of course.”

  Brooks looked back and forth between them and practically snarled. “It’s a whitewash, that’s what it is. Don’t think I don’t see what’s happenin’.”

  “Just give me a chance, Ray, that’s all I ask,” Shula said.

  Brooks glowered for a moment longer, then blew out a disgusted breath and stomped from the office. Phyllis was glad to see him go. Brooks reminded her of a feral animal.

  When the security guard was gone, Tom Shula sighed and waved Phyllis into the chair in front of the desk. He slumped behind it and asked, “Was it really as bad as Brooks made it out to be? Are Amber and the Hamilton boy . . .?” He held out a hand and wobbled it from side to side.

  “I don’t have any proof one way or the other about that.”

  “But you have an opinion,” Shula prodded.

  “I think . . . there might be something going on.”

  Shula shook his head and said, “I was hoping he was mistaken about that. Legally, if he files a complaint, I’ll have to report it to the authorities and this will become a matter for the police. What about the fight?”

  “It wasn’t much of one,” Phyllis said. “I don’t think a single punch was thrown. It might have come to that if Sam hadn’t stepped in, but as it was, Brooks and Chase just wrestled around for a few seconds. Neither of them even fell down.”

  “Still, even a scuffle between a student and a school employee is serious business.”

  “I know it is. Just like I know you’ll do whatever you have to do, Tom. But as for that part of it, I really don’t believe it rose to the level of justifying Chase being expelled.”

  “I’m not going to expel him.”

  That flat statement surprised Phyllis. “You’re not?”

  Shula shook his head. “Nope. Not right away, at least. We’ll let things play out and see what Brooks does. The weekend is coming up. Maybe he’ll cool off and let the whole thing slide.”

  “Maybe,” Phyllis said, even though she didn’t think that was very likely, from what she had seen of Ray Brooks.

  “He’ll be here for the dance tomorrow night. Maybe that’ll cheer him up. It’s overtime pay, after all. Lucky Friday the Thirteenth for him.”

  Chapter 16

  Sam was alone in his room when Phyllis got back there.

  “What happened with the principal?” he asked. “I know you found Ronnie, and she asked you to talk to him.”

  “Tom isn’t going to expel Chase,” Phyllis said. “But if Brooks lodges a formal complaint against Chase and Amber, he’ll be legally required to turn the case over to the authorities.”

  “And that district attorney of ours will try to make political hay out of it, the same way he always does.”

  “Probably.” Phyllis paused. “I imagine you’re disappointed that Chase isn’t going to be kicked out of school, at least not right away.”

  Sam leaned back in the chair behind his desk and sighed. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure how I feel. If he was gone, then I wouldn’t have to worry so much about Ronnie.”

  “Where is Ronnie, by the way?”

  “She stopped here, said she was going to the library for a few minutes to pick up something for an assignment, and then she’d meet me at the picku
p.”

  Phyllis felt a stirring of unease. She said, “You believed her?”

  Sam’s forehead creased in a frown. “Yeah, given her track record, maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I’m ready to go. I’ll see if I can’t hunt her up.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Phyllis said.

  As they left the room, she glanced toward Amber’s room. The door was closed and the light was off, she saw.

  “Did Amber stop and say anything to you before she left?”

  Sam shook his head. “I got to admit, I’m sorta glad she didn’t come in while Ronnie was there. That would’ve been a mite awkward.”

  “More than a mite, I’d say. Whatever has been going on between her and Chase, Ronnie blames her for it.”

  “Well, she’s older . . . and in a position of responsibility and authority. When you’re a teacher, you can’t do anything that might be seen as takin’ advantage of that.”

  “Chase doesn’t strike me as the sort who would be easily taken advantage of.”

  “No.” Sam’s voice hardened. “If everything we suspect about him turns out to be true, he’s more of a predator himself.”

  “That’s why I thought it might be better if he was expelled. I didn’t know what to do when Ronnie asked me to speak up for him with Tom Shula.”

  Sam shrugged. “She would’ve hated you if you hadn’t. This way, you talked to Shula, but whatever happens is out of your hands now.”

  “I told him it wasn’t much of a fight.”

  “And that was the truth. Can’t blame you for that.”

  They passed the library on their way toward the back of the building. It stayed open for an hour after the end of classes every day, so it would be closing soon. Right now, though, the door was still propped open. Sam paused and said, “I want to go in and find out if Ronnie stopped here like she said she was.”

  Phyllis followed him in. The librarian was at the desk, along with one of the student aides. When Sam walked up, the woman asked, “Can I help you, Coach Fletcher?”

  “I was wonderin’ if my granddaughter was in here durin’ the last little while. The blue-haired girl?”

  The librarian smiled. “There’s more than one blue-haired girl who goes to school here, I’m afraid.”

  The aide said, “I know the one he means, Mrs. Booth.” The girl told Sam, “Yes, Ronnie was here, about fifteen minutes ago. She checked out a couple of books.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome, Coach.”

  As they left the library, Phyllis said to Sam, “You were afraid she had gone off somewhere with Chase, weren’t you?”

  “Well, under the circumstances, I reckon it was a possibility.”

  “I think she’s probably still too mad at him right now for that. She’d still stand up for him against anyone else, but the idea that he rejected her in favor of a teacher had to wound her pride considerably.”

  “But she’ll get over it, won’t she?” Sam asked.

  “I think that’s likely.”

  They emerged from the building a couple of minutes later. From where they were, Phyllis could see Sam’s pickup in the parking lot, and it was no trouble to spot Ronnie sitting in the passenger seat, doing something on her phone. Phyllis knew that Sam had given her a key to the truck, so she could go ahead and get into it whenever she was riding with him and reached the parking lot first. It was cool enough today, nearing mid-October, that it would be comfortable sitting in the pickup with the windows rolled down.

  “Looks like you were right,” Sam said. “There she is, and I don’t see that Hamilton boy around anywhere.”

  “She could be texting him on her phone,” Phyllis said.

  “Yeah, but there’s no way for us to police that, short of takin’ away her phone, and like you said, she’s probably lettin’ him stew for the time being.”

  “Except he won’t be stewing. He’s not romantically interested in Ronnie, remember? In a way, having his affair with Amber out in the open might be a relief to Chase.”

  “He probably doesn’t know how stubborn Ronnie can be.”

  “No,” Phyllis said, “he probably doesn’t. But I expect we’ll all find out soon enough.”

  ◄♦►

  With everything that had happened, it was difficult to concentrate on baking, but the smell that filled the house when Phyllis got home made it easier. Carolyn had baked a small batch of her mummy cupcakes as a test, and the aroma of fresh cake made Phyllis’s mouth water.

  While Phyllis tried one and found that it tasted as good as it smelled, she told Carolyn and Eve what had happened after school. Carolyn was outraged, just on general principles since she didn’t know Amber or Chase.

  “I keep hearing about such things, and I just don’t understand them,” she said. “Thank goodness I taught elementary school, where you don’t have to worry about sordid behavior like that.”

  Eve said, “No, at that grade level you just have to worry about the teachers fooling around with the students’ parents . . . especially some of those hot single dads.”

  “Good Lord! Are you insane? That never happens.”

  “Really, dear?” Eve smiled. “I suppose I must be mistaken about some of the stories I’ve heard.”

  Phyllis let them continue wrangling about it while she got ready to bake the sugar cookies and brownies she would need for the dance the next evening. She didn’t want to leave that to do between the end of the school day and the dance that night.

  Sam and Ronnie came in a short time later. Ronnie went upstairs right away, but Sam had to stop in the kitchen to sample one of Carolyn’s cupcakes.

  “Is she all right?” Carolyn asked quietly.

  “She’s still upset, but she’ll be okay,” Sam said. “She might’ve got her heart broke a little bit, but she’s a tough girl.”

  Eve said, “I’ve had my heart broken many times. It stings for a little while, and then you get over it.”

  Phyllis wasn’t sure she looked at the situation as blithely as Eve did, but her friend had a point. At Ronnie’s age, emotions were extremely intense but seldom long-lasting.

  Try explaining that to a broken-hearted sixteen-year-old, though.

  Phyllis had to put that out of her mind and turn her attention to baking. They ate Slow Cooker Texas Chicken and Dumplings for supper since the oven was going to be in use. Carolyn had put it on to cook in the slow cooker that morning after Phyllis and Sam left for work. The house smelled heavenly when they came in. By that evening, she had the cookies and brownies baked, cooled, and placed in plastic storage containers so it would be easy to load them into the car and take them to the dance on Friday night.

  “I expect you not to raid these,” she told Sam, who was sitting at the kitchen table sipping a cup of decaffeinated coffee. “They’re for the kids tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll leave ’em alone,” he promised, “but it won’t be easy.”

  “I’m not sure how you could still be hungry. You went back for thirds on Carolyn’s chicken and dumplings. You can have whatever’s left over.”

  He laughed. “The chicken and dumplings were too good not to go back for thirds. And it’s funny you really think there’s gonna be anything left over after you turn a bunch of hungry teenagers loose on those goodies.”

  “Well . . . probably not. But if you want to nibble on the various snacks while you’re chaperoning, I’ll pretend not to notice.”

  “Deal,” he said.

  ◄♦►

  The morning of Friday the Thirteenth dawned with an appropriate gloominess. A thick gray overcast hung in the sky, and the breeze that send the clouds scudding along had more than a hint of coolness in it. After the hot Texas summer, it actually felt good to Phyllis as she walked from the parking lot toward the school.

  That good feeling evaporated as she saw the three figures loitering near the door where she usually entered the school. She recognized one of the boys as Chase Hamilton, but she didn’t know the
other two. Phyllis thought they were part of the group she had seen sitting with Chase at lunch.

  She hesitated and pondered turning around to return to her car. Sam would be coming along soon, and she could wait and walk in with him.

  But Ronnie would be with him, and Phyllis wasn’t sure it would be a good idea for her to see Chase right now.

  Anyway, she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that Chase meant her any harm. Despite everything she had learned about him, her instincts told her that she was safe around him.

  Those other boys might be a different story, though, and there were two of them and only one of Chase.

  Phyllis had gone too far to turn back, though. She couldn’t outrun them if they wanted to catch her. All she could do was forge ahead and see what happened.

  “Mrs. Newsom,” Chase said as he moved to block the door and forced her to stop. “I need to talk to you.”

  “I’m not sure that we have anything to talk about, Mr. Hamilton.”

  One of the other boys, who had long, straggly, light brown hair, laughed and said, “Mr. Hamilton. Anybody ever call you that before, Chase . . . except for some teacher who’s scared of you?”

  “I got this, Riley,” Chase snapped. “I don’t need any help.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” the other boy said. He was bigger than either of the other two, with heavy shoulders. A first glance might take him for a big, dumb jock, but Phyllis saw intelligence in his eyes—along with hostility.

  Chase ignored the other two and went on, “I just want to ask you about Ronnie. She won’t answer my calls or return my texts. Is she all right?”

  “As far as I know, she is,” Phyllis said. “She’s just angry with you . . . and for good reason.”

  Chase scowled. “I wouldn’t say that. I told you before, I’m not interested in her except as a friend. I made that very clear to her. She just won’t listen.”

  Phyllis heard a note of frustration in the young man’s voice. She could understand him feeling that way. Once Ronnie got an idea in her head, she didn’t want to let go of it.

  Chase went on, “Would you tell her I talked to you and asked about her?”