Part 14 (1/2)

The back door of my car flew open. Danny dropped onto the seat, his head bowed.

”Hi, Danny. How was school?”

He dug in his backpack and pulled out a yellow slip of paper. ”Here.”

His head lifted. I got a good look. ”What happened to you?”

He had a s.h.i.+ner on his right eye, a dark, purple-red one, and a touch of dried blood under his nose. ”I got in a fight. You have to meet with the princ.i.p.al in the morning. I think I'm going to be suspended.”

I read the yellow slip. It was a request from Princ.i.p.al Travis for Ray or me, preferably both, to bring Danny to her office at eight o'clock in the morning. ”Oh, Danny. What were you thinking?”

”I don't know.”

I could hear the frustration in his voice. It matched mine. ”What was the fight about?”

”Nothin'.”

I twisted around farther in my seat. ”It was not about nothing. Did someone say something to you about your dad?”

Danny's eyes grew frightened. ”What about my dad?”

Once again I'd led myself into a trap. ”Nothing. I just thought ...

never mind. What was the fight about? You might as well tell me now, because you're sure going to have to tell Ray later.”

Danny's eyes filled with tears. ”This kid, he kept making these snorting noises every time he walked by my desk. At lunch, he got right in my face. I asked him, 'What's your problem, dude?' He said, ”'Your foster father's a pig, and pigs stink.'”

The fight was about Ray? I couldn't believe it. Ray talked to the kids at this school every year about the D.A.R.E. program. It wasn't quite that time of year yet, but he'd never said that any of them had been anything other than respectful in prior years. And I was shocked that the old ”pig” label had come up. I'd never heard anyone refer to any police officer or sheriff disrespectfully in this town, especially in that ridiculous way.

I wanted to ask if the other kid had gotten the worst of it, but I settled for a different question. ”What's this kid's name?”

”I don't know.” Danny pressed his head against the window. ”Can we go home now?”

I sighed, partly delighted that he thought of our house as ”home” but also a little distressed because I had to stop at the grocery store first. All I wanted to do was go home, too.

Danny refused to come in the store with me, which didn't matter. Everyone would just stare at his eye, then at the two of us, wondering. A few would even be bold enough to ask what had happened to Danny, if they knew me. In this town, sometimes they had the nerve to ask even when they didn't know you. I wouldn't miss the attention.

The store wasn't busy this time of day. I wheeled the cart around the store as quickly as I could, grabbing anything that looked good to me.

As I grabbed a package of spaghetti off the shelf, a flash of red from the end of the aisle caught my eye. It was Leslie, carrying a shopping basket and looking right at me.

”Hey, Leslie.” I waved and started toward her.

Her eyes widened. She darted around the corner.

I chased after her in time to see her climb into a Ford pick-up truck in front of the store. Seconds later, she pulled out of the parking lot and disappeared.

Then I realized she hadn't been wearing her new wig. In fact, it probably wasn't Leslie at all. It must have been her brother. Funny he'd run away. People must get them confused all the time. Maybe he wasn't a people person? I shrugged it off.

My bill came to over two hundred dollars. I handed over my credit card and pushed the cart laden with grocery bags out the door.

I unlocked the trunk of the Lexus and deposited all my bags inside. Then I started toward the cart corral.

As I shoved my empty cart into the ma.s.s of other carts, a shot rang out. Something whizzed past my ear and pinged against the back end of the stainless steel corral frame. Seconds later, I heard another shot and another ping, this time against the car parked next to the corral.

I looked at the round hole in the trunk of that car. It could have been in my torso instead.

I hit the deck between the car and the corral and fumbled for my cell phone in my purse.

As my shaking fingers pressed 9-1-1, another bullet zipped past my ear. I scrambled toward the front end of the car, away from the shooter.

The 911 operator answered.

”I'm in the parking lot of the Wachobe P&C. Someone is shooting at me.”

”Ma'am, are you in your car?”

”No, I'm on the ground between a car and the cart corral.” An awful thought hit me. ”But Danny ... my boy ... is in my car on the other side of the parking lot.”

”All right, ma'am. An officer is on his way. Stay low to the ground and seek cover until he gives you the all clear.”

”But my boy-”

”Stay where you are, ma'am. The officer is coming. I'll stay on the line with you.”

I eased my head up to peek over the hood of the Acura I'd taken cover behind, trying to spot Danny. Another shot whizzed past me and cracked the winds.h.i.+eld of the truck behind me as I dropped back to the pavement.

”Ma'am, are you taking cover?”

”Yes, yes! Where's the officer? Can you call my husband Ray Parker? He's a sheriff deputy.”

”I'll contact him now. Stay down, ma'am.”

I heard a car turn over. It sounded familiar. The driver accelerated and squealed out of a parking s.p.a.ce.

Another shot connected with the back end of the Acura. Was the shooter trying to hit the gas tank?

I dug in my heels and crab-walked closer to the truck behind me. If the Acura blew, the truck and I would go with it, not to mention the cart corral.

A car flew past the rear of the Acura, spun around the end of the line of parked cars and slammed to a stop in the lane behind me. ”Get in, Jolene, get in!”

I scrambled to my knees and crawled to the Lexus. Danny opened the rear pa.s.senger door. I dove into the back seat. He hit the gas. We peeled out of the parking lot. He made a hard right onto the road which threw me to the floor. I heard the police siren coming from behind us as Danny raced down the road.

The siren faded.

”Pull over, Danny. Pull over. We're safe now.”