The Witch Of Agnesi Part 3

Every time she saw Franklin, she remembered the mischievous boy who bedeviled and delighted her in Algebra One. She felt like mussing his thinning hair. "I didn't expect to see you. What's with the limp, youngster?"

He shook his head.

She knew if she pressed him he'd most likely tell her. She didn't press.

"Caught your name on dispatch and volunteered to take the call," he said, changing the subject. "I was heading home."

Bonnie noticed Jeffers through the wire-gla.s.s slits on the double doors. "Let's talk inside."

Jeffers held the door. All were through when a graveled noise from the parking lot made him poke his head back outside. "A cla.s.sic Stingray, tweety-bird yellow."

"That would be Colonel Ralph Newlin." Bonnie couldn't keep the contempt from her voice.

Franklin gave her a puzzled stare.

"I'll tell you later," she mouthed.

Looking like a press photo from the United States Air Force, Colonel Newlin strode through the open door in his leather flight-jacket. Tall and well muscled, Newlin carried himself like he was used to being admired. He nodded to Princ.i.p.al Jeffers as one would a servant. Newlin removed his flight cap, folded it, and smartly tucked it beneath his epaulet. His hair was silver-white, his face lined and rugged. He held out his hand to Bonnie. "Missus Pinkwater."

Bonnie let the hand hang there a moment before she took it. "Mister, oh, excuse me, Colonel Newlin."

Newlin blinked as if stung. The smile that looked as if it might blossom onto his face faded. "Appears as if you lost my boy."

Bonnie felt her neck hair rise. She bit back a reply she knew she'd regret. "I'm sorry about that."

Franklin hobbled between them. "From what I understand, we'll present a case for an Amber Alert. In a nutsh.e.l.l, we'll involve the media. Does the boy have a cell phone?"

Newlin shook his head. "You kidding? He may be a genius, but he's still just thirteen, too young for his own phone."

"Too bad. Sometimes a runaway will answer his cell and even tell you where he's at." Franklin checked his watch. "If an Amber Alert is called for, it would be nice to get his picture on the ten o'clock news."

Colonel Newlin fished around in his wallet and handed Franklin a three-by-five glossy. "This was taken just two months ago."

"Thank you. I'm going to need quick statements from each of you. I'll start with you, Missus Pinkwater?"

"Where's my wife?" Newlin demanded.

Bonnie took Franklin by the arm and led him toward the auditorium. From the corner of her eye she saw Edmund walking toward Colonel Newlin. If Edmund's smart If Edmund's smart, she thought, he'll let Newlin find out on his own his wife is gone. he'll let Newlin find out on his own his wife is gone.

"She what?" Newlin howled.

I guess Edmund isn't so smart after all. She kept Franklin walking. She kept Franklin walking.

In the auditorium/chapel, she handed Wendy Newlin's note to him. "It was on the windshield of the school van."

Note in hand, Franklin leaned heavily on a pew railing and sat. He read the note then pulled a spiral-bound notepad from his pocket. "When did you get this?"

"Maybe fifteen minutes ago. Missus Newlin took off a few minutes before that." Bonnie relayed the conversation she'd had with Wendy.

He handed back the note. "That explains your att.i.tude toward Colonel Newlin."

"The man's ten pounds of feces in a gold-plated nine pound bag."

"Shucks, Missus P, don't sugar-coat your feelings. What do you really think?"

She slapped Franklin's arm. "Don't mock me, youngster. I knew you when you had zits. Besides, I'm not sure this family upheaval is the reason Peyton Newlin's gone missing." She told him of the fight and Edmund's sighting of Jesse Poole's truck.

Franklin scribbled in the notepad. "The same Asian boy out front?"

She nodded.

"I'll send someone around to Poole's." Franklin struggled to his feet.

"Also check the Saint Francis Hospice. Jesse's mom is in there."

"This thug kidnaps Newlin then goes to visit his mother?"

Out loud, the idea sounded silly to Bonnie, too. "I don't know." A wave of fatigue swept over her. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet.

"You look whipped. Why don't you go on home?"

She shook her head. "I've got to wait for Edmund. You're going to want to talk to him. He's the only one who actually saw the truck."

Back in the vestibule, a red-faced Colonel Newlin approached. "Do you really think this Poole character has my boy?"

Before Bonnie could speak, Franklin said, "We can't ignore the possibility. I'm sending out a call on Poole's truck and a sheriff to Poole's home."

He signaled Edmund over. "I'm going to need a description of the pickup." He led the boy outside through the double doors.

Colonel Newlin watched them leave then turned back to her, his face a rigid mask. "I want to apologize for my wife. She's been under a lot of strain lately. So has Peyton." He obviously wasn't comfortable apologizing.

Thanks to you. She rejected telling this bully just what she thought of him. The best thing she could do for the Newlin family would be to inform Social Services. "I have to get my remaining student home." She rejected telling this bully just what she thought of him. The best thing she could do for the Newlin family would be to inform Social Services. "I have to get my remaining student home."

When she tried to walk away, Newlin laid hold of her upper arm.

"Don't much like me, do you?"

Bonnie eyed the callused hand on her arm. "It's not my place to like or dislike you. I'm more concerned about your boy." The curt answer was out of her mouth before she could apprehend it.

He raised both of his hands and stepped back, making a show of letting go of her arm. "You've been talking with my wife."

"We talked." She stared him full in the face.

"Now if you'll excuse me." Without a look back, she strode across the vestibule toward the stairs leading up to Jeffers' office.

"You women, you all stick together," Newlin called.

Eat s.h.i.t and die, you son of a b.i.t.c.h.

In the office, Jeffers and the pair of female custodians who'd searched the building stood praying, holding hands in the center of the room. As she entered, all three supplicants looked in her direction.

Bonnie tugged at her ear, embarra.s.sed to interrupt. "I've got to go. I need to take Edmund home."

The trio made no motion to break their prayer circle. Jeffers lowered his head. "We ask these things in Jesus' name. Amen."

He drew the two women into a group embrace then pulled back. "You ladies talk to the officer then go on home. I'll lock up."

The two women, both in overalls, smiled at Bonnie as they filed past-the smile of folks in the recent company of G.o.d.

Jeffers sat on the rim of the gray-steel desk and removed his orange bow tie. "I still think the boy ran away. No one, besides the Chinese boy, saw this red pickup or its occupants."

"Korean."

"What?"

"Edmund's Korean." She sat next to him on the desk. "I want to believe Peyton's just out there being stupid. Certainly, the time constraints bear that out. From the time between when I last saw the boy and when I sent Edmund to find him, the school was packed with students. Someone would have noticed Peyton struggling with his captors. And yet . . ."

"You can't let go of the off chance."

She rubbed her eyes. "Not while there still is an off chance."

He took her arm and led her out of the office. "Go home, Missus Pinkwater."

"Splendid idea."

Edmund stood at the bottom of the stairs. "I can go. I gave my statement to the cop."

Bonnie looked around for Franklin but didn't see him.

As if he read her mind, Edmund said, "The cop and Peyton's dad are in the auditorium. Can we go now?"

She nodded.

By the time she dropped Edmund Sheridan off at the school, it was tenthirty. The Richter seven headache, which had left her that morning, had returned and now raged at eight.

THE NEXT DAY, BONNIE Pa.s.sED THROUGH THE OFFICE on the way to her morning cla.s.s.

"Bon, can I see you for a moment?" Princ.i.p.al Lloyd Whittaker stood at his office door, only his head poking out.

She wished she'd gone another way, not liking the tone of Lloyd's voice. She came through the swinging gate, around the office counter, and pa.s.sed Doris, the office secretary.

"Divine," Doris mouthed and pointed with her thumb.

Bonnie's heart sank. She hated Superintendent Xavier Divine and was sure the feeling was mutual. To her, he would always be The Divine Pain in the a.s.s. It wouldn't surprise her if he knew of his nom de plume nom de plume.

As she came through Lloyd's door she painted a smile onto her face. "Good morning, Lloyd." She fixed a seated Divine with the frozen smile. "Superintendent Divine."

Xavier Divine was an unremarkable little man except for one overriding feature. He possessed an enormous bald head. It was this feature he now wagged in Bonnie's direction. "I received a disturbing phone call this morning from the Newlins."

Bonnie held her breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Divine sat up in the burgundy overstuffed chair.

"They claim that in the midst of their agony over their missing child you were rude and impertinent."

Impertinent? What am I, his valet?

Bonnie tried to remember any impertinent behavior. Not only couldn't she recall any, she wasn't certain how anyone beside an underling could even be impertinent. And she didn't consider herself anyone's underling.

"Did the call come from Missus or Colonel Newlin?"

"The Colonel."

"I'm not surprised. The man's a sphincter muscle."

Divine's face flushed, increasing the illusion he might be Mr. Potato Head. "The man is a national hero, twice decorated by the President himself."

"Newlin abuses his wife and son. Missus Newlin told me herself Peyton ran away because of him. I intend to report the good Colonel to Social Services the millisecond I leave this office." She chided herself on so blatantly pushing Divine's b.u.t.tons, but enjoyed watching him struggle with his natural urge to deny her anything she wanted to do.

Fortunately, the Divine Pain in the a.s.s knew too much school law to do any such thing. If a teacher as much as suspected abuse it was not only correct for her to report it, she was bound by law to do so. Any administrator who even hinted she should cover it up was committing a felony.

She decided she'd throw him a bone. "The compet.i.tion had ended and Peyton was already in his mother's care when he disappeared."

Divine turned to Lloyd. "Is this true?"

"If Missus Pinkwater says it's true, I believe her."

Divine noticeably relaxed. He sank back into the overstuffed chair, his fingers steepled beneath his double chin. The effect made his head appear like Humpty Dumpty perched atop a finger wall. "This still doesn't excuse a member of East Plains' staff being rude to a parent, but given the extenuating circ.u.mstances . . ." He spread wide his hands.

For an agonizing moment, Bonnie thought he might even wink at her. No, dear G.o.d, don't let it happen. No, dear G.o.d, don't let it happen.

Mercifully, he stood without winking. "Keep me informed of any progress in locating the boy." To the friction zing of his salmon-pink corduroy pants, the Divine Pain in the a.s.s waddled from the office.

"Why do you do that?" Lloyd sat down behind his desk.

She fell into the still warm chair. "Do what?"

"Go out of your way to antagonize our mutual straw-boss."

"I didn't start out meaning to make him mad. It just happened. I think it's a gift."

"It's a gift that's going to get us both fired one of these days."

"I, for one, hope that day is a long time coming. I kind of like working here." She flashed him a toothy grin. "Maybe it's the princ.i.p.al." She got up to leave.

"Hold on." He stayed her with an outstretched palm. "Our local constable, Deputy Fishlock, came by my place this morning."

She sat down. "About Peyton?"