The Third Victim Part 3

They just kept going around and around, and now Becky was spending all her time sequestered in her room with an army of stuffed animals she believed could talk, while Danny spent more and more time playing on the Internet in the school's computer room. He'd told Sandy that he was earning extra credit from Miss Avalon. But both Sandy and Shep suspected that their son didn't want to come home anymore. Then last month there had been the incident with the lockers .... Sandy was unconsciously rubbing her temples. Mitch.e.l.l took a small step into the room, then caught himself and moved back.

"By tomorrow morning," he said quietly.

"Absolutely. First thing in the morning. I know how important the meeting is."

He finally nodded, though Sandy could tell he wasn't satisfied. She didn't know what else she could say. That was her life these days. No one was completely satisfied -not her boss, her husband, or her kids.

She kept telling herself that if she could just hang in there a little longer, things would work out. The meeting with Wal-Mart was something they'd been working on for nine months. Keeping late hours, burning the midnight oil. But if it went well, a lot of money would be pouring in. The commercial real estate company could finally hire more employees. Sandy would probably take home a nice-size bonus. Shep

might finally notice she had real abilities and ambitions, just like him.

One forty-five p.m. Sandy got up and closed the blinds on her window, hoping that would help her focus. She poured herself a gla.s.s of water, picked up a pen, and prepared to get serious.

She'd just started reviewing the market data when the phone at her elbow rang. She picked it up absently, one half of her mind still processing numbers. She was not prepared for what she heard.

Lucy Talbot sounded hysterical.

"Sandy, Sandy! Oh thank G.o.d I reached you! There's been a shooting, at the school. Some man, they claim he's run away. I heard it on the radio. There's blood in the halls. Students, faculty, I don't know who. People are running in from everywhere. You gotta get there quick!"

Sandy didn't remember hanging up or grabbing her purse or yelling to Mitch.e.l.l that she had to go.

What she remembered was running. She had to get to the school. She had to get to Danny and Becky.

And she remembered thinking for the first time in a long time that she was glad Shep O'Grady was her husband. Their children needed him.

Tuesday, May 15, 1:52 p.m.

Bakersville's K-8 looked like a scene out of bedlam. As Rainie came to a screeching halt half a block away from the sprawling, one-story building, she saw parents running frantically across the parking lot while children wandered the fenced-in schoolyard, crying hysterically.

Fire alarms were ringing. Walt's 1965 ambulance siren as well, d.a.m.n him. More cars came careening dangerously around the residential streets, probably parents called from work.

"d.a.m.n," Rainie muttered.

"d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n, d.a.m.n."

She could see teachers gathering up their charges into small groups. A man in a suit maybe Princ.i.p.al VanderZanden; Rainie had met him only once took up a post by the flagpole and seemed to be trying to organize the chaos. He wasn't having much luck. Too many parents were running from group to group trying to find their children. Too many children were circling aimlessly in search of parents. A young boy with blood-soaked jeans staggered away from the whirling madness and collapsed on the sidewalk. No one seemed to notice.

Rainie jumped out of her car and ran. Cunningham was right behind her.

As they cut through the sea of people, pushing toward the school's gla.s.s front doors, Rainie spotted Shep's patrol car, strategically parked to block off the west entrance of the parking lot. The sheriff himself, however, was not in sight.

The front doors had been thrust wide open. Rainie could just make out

Bakersville's two volunteer EMTs, Walt and Emery, hunched down at the end of the wide hallway, where they were already ministering to a victim.

"Dammit," she swore again. The two men had no business being in the building before it had been secured. A parent came running up, heading straight for the open doors. Rainie grabbed his arm just as he tried to push by, and she shoved him back forcefully.

"My kid," he started.

"Into the parking lot," she yelled.

"No one enters the building! Hey you, you there in the suit. Come here."

Rainie snagged the younger man in mid-run. He had a look of authority about him, his olive suit nicely tailored and his black shoes freshly polished. He was frowning at Rainie, clearly anxious and in a hurry.

"Are you from the school? What's your name?" Rainie demanded.

"Richard, Richard Mann. I'm the school counselor, and I need to get to the students. We've had some injuries "Do you know what happened in there?"

"There were shots. Then the fire alarm sounded; then everyone was running. One minute I was in my office doing some paperwork, the next minute it was chaos."

"Did you see who was shooting?"

"No, but someone said they saw a man run out the west side doors. I don't know."

"What about the students? Is everyone out?"

"We followed basic evacuation procedure," Richard Mann replied automatically. Then his face fell. He lowered his voice so only Rainie could hear.

"Two teachers said they saw some students down in the halls. They had to attend to their own cla.s.ses, though, so they didn't feel they could stop .. . and they didn't want their kids to notice. I've also! seen some wounded children out here. I tried to grab the EMTs, but they were already heading into the building."

"Do you have any medical training?"

"I learned CPR from the Y."

"Good enough. Here's what you're going to do: Form first-aid station on the school lawn. Gather up all the injured kids, just saw a boy collapse by the sidewalk, you need to send someone over there. Then ask among the parents. There's gotta be other people here who have some sort of training CPR, animal husbandry, camping first aid, I don't care. Have them a.s.sist the kids and hold the fort the best they can.

Walt looks to have his hands full inside, and we probably have another good ten or fifteen minutes before Cabot County's ambulance arrives."

"I'll do my best. It's just so hard to be heard above the noise."

Rainie pointed a finger at Shep's patrol car.

"See that? In the backseat is a bullhorn. Knock yourself out. Now, once you get a first-aid area set up, I have another job for you. Are you listening?"

The young counselor nodded intently. His face was pale, and his upper lip was beaded with sweat, but he seemed to be paying attention.

"See all the people clogging the parking lot?" she said.

"We need them all moved across the street. Tell the teachers to line up their cla.s.ses and conduct a head count. When they're done, they can match up students with parents. But everyone except the wounded clears this parking lot, for safety reasons, okay? And n.o.body goes home until they've been dismissed by the police. Got it?"

"I'll try."

"Did you see Sheriff O'Grady?"

"He ran into the building. I think he was looking for his kids."

Richard Mann took off for Shep's car. Rainie eyed the sprawling white school building, which she gathered was still unsecured, then looked at her rookie, who was nervously stroking his gun.

Rainie took a deep breath. She had only cla.s.sroom training in these things, and that had been years ago, but she didn't have any other choices. Walt and Emery were already in the school. Shep too. She and Chuckie might as well join the fray.

She turned to him.