Dying To Teach Part 12

The disheveled teens sloshed to Angie's side. "Wouldn't it be better if I made that list?" Kiana said. "I probably know the scenes that need special costuming better than anyone."

"I'm sure you do but I need you for something else. Evan, please organize everyone and see what you can do to get this place dried out and cleaned up. We can't depend on the school staff to do it."

"Tell me about it!" came from Kiana and Evan at the same time.

"What I meant was," Angie clarified, "I don't know how big an area got rained on; the janitors might be busy cleaning up other spots in the school. Actually, that's a place to start. Can somebody go check the auditorium? See if it's wet too."

A boy separated himself and ran down the hallway. He returned in a moment. "It's wet."

"Okay. Everyone..." Angie waited till the faces focused on her. "Can you help Evan get this place cleaned up? Maybe raid the closest janitor's closet for supplies. Kiana and Chantal, please come to my office."

The girls followed her into the also-dripping room. "I suspect this place isn't going to be usable for our show. Chantal, could you run down and see if either the cafeteria or the gymnasium is dry? We can use them for storage."

"Good idea," Kiana said. "But where can we have the performance?"

"That's why I wanted to pick your brain. Do you know of another school whose stage we might be able to use? Or maybe there's another place in town that has one-an opera house, a theater, a rec hall. Usually this would be done in a more organized manner but we have very little time. Another thing, do you know the phone number of the thrift shop?"

"Yes, it's-"

Angie got out her phone again and jammed it into Kiana's hand. "Let Cilla know what happened. Tell her Donna will call soon with a complete list of what we'll need though I'm sure Cilla will remember quite a lot on her own."

The sprinklers continued to drip, sounding like a forest after a shower, but at least it the worst was over. Randy burst into the office in a flurry of red cheeks and huffing breath. A long strand of hair, which this morning had been combed over a bald spot, dangled onto his nose. One thing that stood out about him-he was dry.

He raked the hair back in place, shot her a look that said I thought you said there was no danger and asked, "What the h.e.l.l happened here?"

"We haven't had time to figure it out. I came in as the sprinklers went off, but what it looks like is somebody piled all the costumes on the table and set them on fire."

"Why would anyone do that?"

Angie gave a small shrug because that question had no answer. Probably he didn't expect one. He peered around at the kids swarming the area.

"What's going on?"

"They're working to keep the show going."

"Keep the-" He waved a hand around the room. "This place is a disaster area, how do you intend- Besides..."

Evan rushed down the hallway, his face lit with excitement. "I just had a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself." Anyone within hearing stopped what they were doing. "Why don't we do the show outdoors?"

"Oh I don't see how that can work," Randy said. "The weather..."

"Last year we did a nativity show on the common," Evan continued, undaunted, "so we already have the staging."

"Yes, but that show was only a few minutes long."

"It's only October. The weather should be fine," somebody said.

"All we'd have to do is rig up a pulley for the curtains," added someone else.

The room was silent-except for the still-dripping sprinklers-but the change in the mood was palpable. Randy fingered the hair back in place again and shrugged. "You guys are amazing. If this were me, I'd be crying in my soup over the show being ruined. Then I'd be furious at the person who did this to you."

"Oh, we are, Mr. Reynolds, we are," Angie said, "but we will let you and the police worry about that. The first priority for us has to be the show. These amazing people know that."

"In that case, we'll make it happen. I'll call a carpenter. He'll make it all work for you." He shook hands with Evan. "Nice job, son." And then he left.

"Wow," someone said. "Can't believe he's going along with this."

"I thought for sure he was gonna cancel everything," somebody else added.

"Let's get to work before he thinks about that," Angie said.

Evan laughed. "He knows the school's insurance will pay for it." He clapped his hands. "Okay, gang, let's get back to work." He pulled a tall redheaded boy aside. "Can you take over here? Just keep everyone focused. I'm going to locate that staging and see if it's usable."

"You mean it might not be?" Angie asked.

He raised his eyebrows and quirked a corner of his mouth. "Um, I may have spoken too soon."

She slapped her forehead with a palm.

He laughed. "Not a problem. We have a carpenter coming. Right?"

Angie rolled her eyes. "Just keep me posted."

She hurried to her office where Kiana was just ending her call. "Mrs. Philmore is getting stuff together right now. She said she'll stay there all night if she has to."

"Great." Angie told Kiana the news about the outdoor show.

"Mr. Reynolds went along with it?"

"He did." Angie had an idea Randy would agree to anything if it meant she might stumble upon some clues.

"What should I do now?" Kiana asked.

"Maybe it would be best if you follow Mr. Reynolds and make sure he doesn't get sidetracked hiring that carpenter."

"I have an uncle who's a carpenter, I'll use that as an excuse to badger him."

"Good girl."

Kiana and Angie stepped out of the office. Two police officers were standing in front of the ash-laden table. The women spent the next half hour giving a report to the police.

Three hours later, Angie and the group of actors and stagehands stood at the head of the auditorium. The dripping had finally stopped. All doors stood open. Unbelievably, one of the janitorial staff was using a huge vacuum to suck water from the waterlogged chairs. Another janitor had set up enormous fans at either end of the room. Randy said his hope was that the place could still be made ready for the performance, but Angie's juices were excited about the prospect of an outdoor show.

"Man, he's got his work cut out for him," Kiana shouted over the roar of the fans. Her eyes locked on the janitor-the one who'd confronted them last night-maneuvering the large vacuum. As he moved from one chair to another, he flashed Kiana a vicious scowl.

So the janitor, Lincoln Underwood, wasn't ready to leave last night behind. What was the big deal? The kids had merely infiltrated the school after hours. And they'd found a picture. Why should he make such a fuss? If he thought they did anything wrong all he had to do was report it to Randy.

So, why hadn't he?

A worse thought was-did he have anything to do with setting the fire?

Seemed a stretch of the imagination but could he know something about that picture? That might account for his att.i.tude. Angie shook off the question for now. Too much going on to worry about something so small. Her "Anybody hungry?" was met with a chorus of yeses. "Let's head to the cafeteria. Mr. Reynolds ordered pizza for all of you."

The kids collected their wet belongings and clomped out. Though they were obviously exhausted, an air of excitement and fulfillment swelled among them. Angie trailed the kids down the hall. Now that the emergency pa.s.sed and things were getting back on track, she had time for some questions. Who hated this show so much they were willing to chance burning down the school? Was it the same person who'd tossed the place earlier? Could it have anything to do with that photograph? If so, the janitor couldn't be involved. He knew the picture had left the building.

On a personal level, Angie wondered why Jarvis hadn't been in touch. More than twenty-four hours had pa.s.sed since she'd sent that photo. It was so unusual for him not to call.

Kiana's, "Is something wrong, Ms. Deacon?" made her jump. Kiana touched her arm. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you all right?"

"Yes, fine. Just wondering...I've been expecting a phone call."

"From Mr. Jarvis?"

"Yes, why?"

Kiana drew Angie's phone from her pocket and handed it over. "He called while we were at the Common scoping out a place for the stage. We had a nice chat. I can't wait to meet your puppy."

"Excuse me?"

"Your puppy, Irish Red. He's bringing her."

"He's coming?"

She checked her watch. "They should be here in about an hour. When are you two getting married?"

Angie kept walking even though her feet wanted to stop. "Married?" Was there anything about their relationship he hadn't told this child?

"Yes, he said he asked you."

"I didn't say yes-yet."

Angie escaped further questions because they'd entered the cafeteria. The others had already dumped their things in a heap on the floor and helped themselves to the mountain of pizzas set on a long table. Angie's stomach growled. She realized she hadn't eaten since the m.u.f.fin at breakfast. Evan appeared at her side with a paper plate laden with two slices, one cheese, one bacon. He set it at the end of a table then slid onto the bench seat across from her.

"Thanks." Angie melted onto the seat, suddenly very tired.

A half hour later, most everyone had gone. Kiana and Evan rounded up the empty boxes and delivered them to the kitchen. Angie stood, prepared to leave.

"Mrs. Deacon, I know it's late, but can we talk to you for a few minutes?" Evan asked.

"Sure." Angie sat again and took a sip from her can of diet soda. More than likely this discussion had nothing to do with the show.

The teens took seats across the table. They looked at each other. As usual, a silent message pa.s.sed between them. Evan spoke first. "We think that janitor set the fire."

She took a moment to process the news, not willing yet to admit the thought had crossed her mind also. "What makes you think so?"

"It just makes sense," Kiana said. "He came in while we were talking about who was in the picture with Ms. Forest. He demanded we give it to him."

"That's when you came in," Evan said.

"We've been talking-wondering why he would care. If he thought we stole something he would've told Mr. Reynolds. That's what he always did before."

"This time he didn't," Angie said, more to herself than the kids. "But why would he resort to setting the fire? He knew you'd taken the picture from the building."

"Because he knows how important this is to us."

"And he was paying us back because we got the better of him."

"I don't know," Angie said, but she had to admit, the kids might be right. "I think we should tell the police. That way if anything else happens..."

"Will you do it?"

She gave a tired nod and started to rise.

"There's one more thing," Evan said. "Well actually, there are three things."

SEVENTEEN.

Jarvis raced down the painted cinderblock hallway following the sound of voices. What was it that brought danger to Angelina's doorstep all the time? Time after time, it found her. She was like a magnet. No, he told himself, whoever set the fire would've done it anyway. Nothing to do with her.

He hadn't been in a school for years, but most were constructed in a similar way, and the voices seemed to be coming from the cafeteria. Conversational voices. Now and then he picked out the murmur of Angelina's replies. Which meant she was on the receiving end of a serious discussion. So what else was new?

He burst into a cavernous lunchroom in time to hear a tall, thin teenage boy say, "Three more things."

The boy sat at a long cafeteria table beside a very beautiful dark-skinned girl. Angelina, who'd been standing, sank onto the bench seat across from them. They all noticed Jarvis' arrival.

The boy jumped to his feet and approached. He was good-looking, probably what the girls would call a hunk. He had on Dockers and a b.u.t.ton-down shirt, not the standard teenage garb. His hair was neatly chopped, his eyes bright and alert. Right now, the boy was in protection mode.

"It's okay Evan," Angelina called, "this is Detective Jarvis."

Evan stretched out an arm and shook Jarvis' hand. "Nice to meet you, sir."

Over Evan's shoulder, Jarvis saw the girl lean forward, tap Angelina on the arm and say something that made them both smile.

Angelina gestured for him to come sit, which he did, making sure their thighs touched. It'd been far too long since he touched her. What the h.e.l.l-he also leaned forward and kissed her under the right ear. "Missed you," he whispered.

Evan seemed convinced all was well and settled beside the girl, close enough, Jarvis thought, for their thighs to touch also. The girl had sort of a mystical aura about her with that flowing dark hair and almost-black eyes. He pictured her wearing a sari, and a bindi in the middle of her forehead. She could be plopped in the middle of New Delhi and fit right in.

Angelina made introductions all around.

"I thought you were bringing Irish Red," Kiana said.