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Things that Go Bump in the Morning Part One
To
refresh your memory, Jim has been receiving threatening letters in the mail.
As advised by Jack Palmer, he hired Al Spurgeon as his bodyguard. Jim met the
former biker in Los Angeles while working on a case in Trixie’s stead. Our
story picks up on a cold morning in January as Jim prepares to begin another
ordinary day… Tuesday, January 18th Jim Frayne unlocked the main entrance of Ten Acres Academy an
hour-and-a-half sooner than he usually did. Even though he was an early bird,
he had groaned when his alarm clock had gone off at “Well, Frayne, this is what you get for letting Trixie keep
you up half the night. Now, unless you want to be stuck here until Although
he hated to expose his fingers to the biting cold, he removed his gloves so
he could punch the security code into the keypad by the door. Once the alarm
had been deactivated, he opened the front doors of the school and went inside
to begin his day. Jim’s
busy schedule required a combination of organization, dedication, and
ambition for him to successfully juggle his duties as school administrator
and shrewd businessman. Although he was being pulled in two different
directions, his heart was at Ten Acres, and he spent the majority of his work
hours there. Running a year-round school for orphaned and/or wayward children
had been his dream since he was a teenager, but somewhere along the way, it
had become more than that; it had become his calling, something he was born
to do. His duties as headmaster went beyond filling minds with knowledge.
Jim’s primary goal was to heal his students’ hearts in hopes that, in turn,
each one would be inspired to help others. Just like abuse, benevolence was a
cycle; however, the charitable cycle was one Jim hoped would be repeated time
and time again. In spite of
his desire to spend most of his time at the school, the lure of the business
siren still beckoned him. Before the academy opened the past summer, he had
worked at Wheeler Enterprises. Although the school was his passion, Jim
couldn’t deny the fact that he had a knack for finance. Like his
great-grandfather who had initially earned the Frayne family fortune,
business was in his blood. Assisting his adoptive father with running a
billion-dollar corporation, negotiating huge mergers, and analyzing the
ever-changing stock market was an enjoyable challenge to the handsome
redhead. And he was good at it. Nothing had changed since he was a teenager.
Anything worth doing, Jim could do well, including make money. When the
dream of his year-round school was finally realized, Jim had made it clear to
his father that his primary focus had shifted to being the headmaster of the
academy. Although Matthew was saddened by his son’s decision, Ten Acres had
become his dream as well. He gave Jim his blessing, all the while
secretly hoping that his son would return to Wheeler Enterprises at least
part-time. It didn’t
take long until Matthew’s wish was granted. In spite of his taxing schedule
at the school, Jim began to miss the wheeling and dealing of the business
world. After a bit of cajoling from his father, he agreed to take on an
active role in running his father’s corporation, albeit a small role.
He traveled into New York City once a week to work in his office at the
company’s headquarters. Both Jim and Honey would retain their stock in the
company, as well as serve on the board of directors, enabling each of the
business’ future heirs to have input regarding the future of Wheeler
Enterprises. However, provisions were made that, in case of Matthew’s
untimely death, the responsibility of operating the ever-growing conglomerate
on a daily basis would be divided amongst Matthew’s current executive
staff. Although a
monthly board meeting didn’t sound like much responsibility when he had
agreed to the arrangement, it required far more time than Jim had planned to
allot for such a purpose. A lesser man might have crumbled under the intense
pressure of holding two such demanding, high profile positions, but the
situation was perfect for someone with Jim’s drive. A man of his motivation
thrived when faced with a challenge. The heavy
workload had actually been his salvation when Trixie left for California. Now
that she’d returned with his engagement ring on her finger, Jim began to
wonder if he’d taken too much upon himself. No matter how important the school
and the family business were to him, Trixie would always come first. To the
one-time orphan, nothing was more important than family. His birth father had
always taught Jim that no matter what he did for a living, and no matter what
his hobbies were, no matter how civic minded he was,
a man’s primary responsibility was to his wife and children. If a man
fulfilled his family obligations first, everything else would fall into
place. Hiring
Margery Trask as his second-in-command turned out to be the smartest thing
that Jim had ever done when it came to organizing the school. When his many
burdens threatened to weigh him down too heavily, his faithful Vice-Principal
quickly stepped in and lent a hand. Marge somehow managed to “butt in” and
lighten his load without stepping on his toes or appearing power hungry. She
knew exactly when she should take on a certain project, and when she should
allow Jim to handle it himself. She performed her duties in a quiet,
unassuming manner, and as a result, she had proven herself invaluable not
only to Jim, but the school as a whole. Jim had
come to depend heavily upon not only Marge’s experience in the educational
field, but also upon her wisdom and management skills. Even though he
considered himself a master organizer, he stood in awe of her ability to keep
track of every single teacher, volunteer, dorm monitor, custodian, secretary,
and cook, not to mention each and every one of their eighty-five
students. In fact, Jim
hadn’t realized exactly how essential Marge was to Ten Acres until recently.
She had gone to Pirates’ Point to spend the holidays with her brother. Frank
had convinced her to extend her vacation through the first two weeks of
January, and she had remained at her family’s inn until the previous
weekend. Jim was anxious to catch her
up on everything that had happened during her absence. With the
added stress of planning a wedding and dealing with a potential stalker
weighing upon him, Jim was more thankful than ever for Marge’s assistance. As
a safeguard, he had designated in his will that if anything happened to him,
the administration of the school would be handed to his former governess. He
knew that she could manage Ten Acres just as well— if not better — than he
himself. Not that he
was anticipating the worst, mind you. In spite of
the reassurance that he had a capable Vice-Principal hovering in the wings,
Jim felt it necessary to take care of certain tasks himself. It was because
of this sense of obligation that he found himself at the school so early this
particular morning. A stack of forms requiring his personal attention had
been placed on his desk the evening before. Although he hated leaving
anything undone, he had received a call from a hot blonde, who asked him to
go out to dinner with her. In spite of his noble intentions of being a
responsible headmaster and finishing his work before going out to play, the
blonde weakened his resistance and pleaded with him to “ditch that heap of
applications…just this once.” It was an offer he simply couldn’t
refuse. Later that night, Jim prayed that the Office Fairy would come in and
magically take care of all that paperwork, but he had a feeling that wasn’t
going to happen. He suspected that pile of forms was exactly where he had
left them the evening before. In his
haste to get to the office, he had forgotten to notify his newly-hired
bodyguard about the change in his schedule. Stubborn as usual, Jim shrugged
off the notion that maybe it hadn’t been wise to go to work without Al
Spurgeon at his side. Now he was having second thoughts. Ten Acres Academy
had an almost eerie feel as he flipped on the lights in the main foyer of the
school. Although the thermostat was set on a constant seventy degrees, a shiver
coursed down his spine. Must be because of the nasty weather outside,
he rationalized, ignoring the goose bumps that had risen on his arms. The faint
sound of footsteps echoed farther down the hall and immediately captured
Jim’s full attention. He froze in his tracks as he honed in on the noise and
tried to determine its source and location. Common sense told him that it was
merely his overactive imagination. After hearing the sound a second time, he
attempted to calm himself down. Relax,
Frayne. Jim took several deep breaths in
and out and went through a mental tick list of reasons he shouldn’t worry. The
custodial staff always double-checks to make sure the doors are locked.
Nobody without a key could get in or out, and if someone broke in, the alarm
would go off. You probably just heard the furnace creaking. Quit letting your
imagination run away with you, or before you know it, you’ll be calling the
police with a Big Foot sighting. Before he
could stifle his unsettling thoughts, the definite noise of someone walking
caused a lump to settle in his throat. It’s
probably the floorboards settling; this is
a new building, you know. However,
his gut told him the sounds he heard were being caused by something more
sinister. Brilliant
move, forgetting to call Al this morning, he
rebuked himself. Aw, who’re you trying to kid, Frayne? You didn’t “forget”
to call; you resent the fact that someone has to baby-sit
you, so you “forgot” on purpose. And if this noise is the stalker
coming to attack you, you’d better pray that he goes ahead and murders you,
because if Trixie finds out that you “forgot” to call Al, you’d be better off
in the hands of this psycho than have Trixie get a hold of you... Jim held
his breath as he listened for any other strange noises. Aside from the loud
pounding thuds emanating from his chest, he didn’t hear anything unusual. His
mouth was so dry that he wondered if he could emit any sound at all. “Hello?” he
managed to choke out. “Is anybody there?” Silence. Calm down,
buddy boy. Jim took several deep, cleansing
breaths, hoping to regulate his breathing. A dorm monitor probably gave
one of the students permission to go downstairs, and
the kid was afraid of getting into trouble and just didn’t answer. Those
letters are making you paranoid. You’re so jumpy that you think every single
noise you hear is this creep. You’ve got to pull yourself together. Of course,
that was easier said than done, especially when Jim heard the distinctive
sound of the gymnasium’s exterior door. That particular door scraped against
the concrete ground outside whenever it was opened or closed. Faced with the
reality that he had actually heard something, his adrenaline kicked
in, and Jim raced towards the source of the sound, hoping to catch the
intruder red-handed. It could’ve
only taken him a minute at the very most to run to the western wing of the
school that housed the physical education department. Breathlessly, he banged
open the double doors of the gymnasium and appraised the situation. The large
space was completely void of light and appeared unoccupied. After quickly
flipping on the lights, the only things Jim saw were vacant bleachers, a
darkened scoreboard, and the knight that had been painted in the center of
the high-gloss basketball court. Not a single thing seemed to be out of
place. To further
test the conclusion that everything was as it should be, Jim walked down the
concrete sideline to the heavy, metal exit door. He tried to push down on the
long, horizontal handle, but it wouldn’t budge; the door was securely locked.
Cursing his paranoia, as well as its source, Jim angrily turned on his
heel and retraced his steps through the gymnasium. That’s a
great way to waste thirty minutes, he berated himself as he strode purposefully down the hall.
However, being the wary man that he was, Jim made a quick detour to the front
entrance and relocked the door before continuing his trek to his office. The
normally bustling school was as quiet as a graveyard. On a normal day of
school, the halls would begin filling with students in a couple of hours. Of
course, it never failed that a few procrastinators would arrive early to dig
through their lockers, searching for yesterday’s homework assignment that
they hadn’t completed the evening before. However, on this particular
Tuesday, the hallways were completely devoid of human life outside of Jim.
The “January Term” had made a virtual ghost town of Ten Acres. On December
twenty-third, the academy began an extended break which Jim had designated
the “January term”. During this time,
the students who had successfully completed their first semester courses
could enjoy a vacation from their classes. Students whose grades had been
less than stellar could use the January Term as an opportunity to improve
their scores. However, these tutoring sessions were only offered on Mondays,
Wednesdays, and Fridays, and none of the students were permitted leave their
dorms or the student lounge to wander the school without approval. Unfortunately,
the headmaster of Ten Acres Academy hadn’t been given the option of relaxing
during the January Term. Since the students remained on campus even during
the summer, the faculty reported year-round. Even when there weren’t any
classes, the dorms were still full of occupants, which meant that there were
still a plethora of disciplinary referral forms to deal with, menus to
approve, activities to organize, and a staff to manage. After
pulling out a ring filled with various keys, Jim unlocked the door to the
administrative wing of the school. This particular section of Ten Acres
housed several different offices, including his. Jim walked past the general
secretary’s desk, and then navigated the long hallway of closed doors until
he arrived at his own. He unlocked the main door, walked past Dessie’s desk, and then used another key to open the door
to his office. When the school opened this past summer, he regretted making
it so difficult to get to his personal office. However, after the mysterious
letters began arriving, he considered the labyrinth a blessing in disguise. Once he had
turned on the overhead light, Jim took off his heavy coat, cap, and scarf and
hung the winter garments neatly on the coat tree by the door. Enough with
pursuing imaginary stalkers, he told himself as he straightened his tie. It’s
time to leave the investigating to the professionals and tackle these forms. With a
weary sigh, he sat down in his high-backed leather office chair, scooted up
to his mahogany desk, and picked up the pile of paperwork on his desk. “Back to
the old grind,” he mumbled as he prepared to begin another ordinary day of
work. Forty-five minutes passed, yet Jim had barely made a dent in
the stack of applications on his desk. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that
these things were reproducing asexually, he thought wryly. To break up
the monotony of his task, he swiveled around in his chair to face the paper
shredder that was positioned against the wall. He picked up the wastebasket
beside it, and proceeded to destroy any important-looking documents that had
been discarded. Not only did this task give his eyes a much needed break, it
also allowed him to operate a potentially dangerous machine and destroy
things on purpose; in short, it was every boy’s dream job. The
paper shredder buzzed so loudly as it sliced through
documents that the faint clicking sound of a key rattling in the knob was
indiscernible. Since his back faced the entrance, Jim never even noticed when
the door slowly opened and someone crept stealthily into the room. He
continued feeding the discarded pieces of mail into the machine, blissfully
unaware that he had made himself vulnerable to the newcomer who now stood
behind him. Just as he paused to dump the paper that had collected in the shredder’s
container, Jim felt a hand clamp down firmly on his shoulder. “You
can run, but you can’t hide.” Sudden
contact and an unexpected voice would’ve been enough to startle Jim. However,
the force of the contact, combined with the menacing tone of the voice, only
served to magnify his terror tenfold. His breath raspy from fear, Jim whirled
around in his chair to face the owner of the aforementioned forceful hands
and menacing voice. “You
scared me to death, Al,” he finally managed. “Not
half as much as you scared me, Mr. Jim,” his burly guardian retorted gruffly.
“I thought you was pullin’
some kinda grift when I
gave the big house the buzz and seen that my meat had taken the run-out.” In
spite of the fact that he was currently being harshly scolded by a former
officer in one of the country’s most notorious motorcycle gangs, Jim stopped
to ponder Al’s terminology quite ironic. The first addition to his security
staff had a less-than stellar record, and actually had been an extended
“guest” of a couple different “big houses” in California. However, Jim couldn’t help but wonder if Al
found the staunch rules of the Manor House even more restrictive than prison
life. “You
shoulda told me you was leavin’ for work early,” Al continued, clearly irritated.
“I stopped by to ride with you like I always do, but you wasn’t nowhere to be found.” “I’m
sorry, Al,” Jim apologized. “I was behind on my paperwork, so I came in early
to get a jumpstart on it.” “Yeah,
I figured that out.” The hulk of man exhaled loudly as he crossed his arms in
front of his brawny chest. “ ’Course, I hadta scare that pretty dark-haired maid who answered the
door hafta death in the process. I guess she
thought I was the devil himself ‘cuz she turned
white as a ghost when she gotta slant at me standin’ there. Somehow, I convinced her that I wasn’t gonna rub you out or anything like that, and that I was
just hitchin’ a ride to school with you, but I
couldn’t find you. When we seen your wheels still parked in the garage, she
went whacko and yelled for your ma.” Jim’s
stomach sank at the trouble he had caused. “How did Mother take the news?” “Pretty
bad,” Al admitted. “She started fannin’ herself and
staggerin’ around like she’d been hittin’ the giggle juicy early and was gonna throw a joe, and then
some other blonde looker in a business suit came in to see why your ma was snappin’ a cap.” Al groaned loudly as he recalled the
stressful events of the morning. “Then, the blonde dish started yellin’ at the maid for rilin’
up Miz Wheeler, and told the maid to close her head
an’ shut up.” “What
happened after that?” Jim asked hesitantly, although he wasn’t sure he really
wanted to hear the answer. “Well,
the blonde tomato somehow convinced your ma to take a load off, and she
ordered the maid to get a Valium for your ma, but I think she was really just
tryin’ to give ‘er the
bum’s rush.” Al paused, and then added dramatically, “The maid, not your
mom.” Jim
nodded, an amused smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Go on.” “Anyway,
after she got your ma calmed down, the blonde number— I think her name was
Celia— called your old man,” Al continued. “Mr. Wheeler just sorta laughed and told me to check the school, ‘cuz you’d probably be here workin’,
and if you wasn’t here, then I should call Miss Trixie. So that’s what
I did.” “So,
you haven’t told Trixie about this yet?” Jim’s voice took on a distinctly
hopeful tone. “Nah,”
Al replied. “I was goin’ to, though, if you hadn’t
been here. I’m glad I didn’t hafta worry her; she’s
gotta lot on her plate as it is.” “Yeah.”
Relieved, Jim raked a hand through his russet-colored hair. “Once again, I’m
really sorry for causing such a stir. I had all this paperwork waiting for
me, so I thought I’d just come in a little bit early. It completely slipped
my mind that we were supposed to ride together, but that’s no excuse for not
calling.” Al
cocked a bushy gray eyebrow at his employer, as a new question emerged in his
mind. “Hey, how’d you get here, boss?” “Pardon?”
“How’d
you get here?” Al repeated tersely. “Your ride’s back at the
house, and there ain’t no cars in the parking lot,
so I know you didn’t borrow somebody else’s heap.” “I
walked,” Jim said with a shrug. “You
walked?” “Yeah,
sometimes I walk to school,” Jim replied simply. “There’s a shortcut through
the woods that we all took when we were kids. It’s almost as quick to hike
here than it is to drive. I like the exercise, and
being outside helps clear my head. I’ve always felt right at home in the
woods.” Al
inhaled deeply in an attempt to rein in his anger. “Mr. Jim, I know you’re my
boss, and I don’t wanna sound disrespectful, but do
you really think it’s a good idea for you to be wanderin’
around the woods alone when some nut’s got the curse on you?” “It
really isn’t that far from Manor House to Ten Acres.” Jim’s voice took
on a childish quality, and it sounded almost like he was a small boy who was
trying to convince his father that it wasn’t his baseball that had
just broken the living room window. “It only took fifteen minutes at the most…” “Fifteen
minutes is plenty of time for some whack-a-doo to
blow your brains out,” Al interjected briskly. Jim’s
breath caught in his throat. It finally began to sink in exactly how foolish
his actions had been. Suddenly, the irony of the situation caused him to
chuckle. “You
okay, Mr. Jim?” Al asked, his weathered forehead
wrinkled with concern. “You need me to call the head doctor or somethin’?” “I’m
fine, Al,” Jim assured him. “I was just thinking how much Trixie would enjoy
hearing our chat.” Al
drew back in surprise. “Huh?” “For
years, I lectured Trixie exactly like you’re lecturing me now,” Jim explained
with a cynical snort. “She was a detective, even when we were teenagers, and
she and Honey always managed to stumble on a mystery of some sort to solve.
It never failed that some dangerous criminal she was chasing would be trying
to kill her, yet Trixie seemed oblivious to it all. She’d sneak out alone for
a night swim, wander off to the most dangerous place
possible in search of a clue… Anything to put herself in a precarious
situation. She practically gave her older brother Brian and me a heart attack
on several occasions.” “I’m
afraid I still don’t get what you’re sayin’.” “It’s
ironic that after all my years of lecturing Trixie about how she should be
more careful, right now I’m guilty of being just as foolhardy.” “Well,
I dunno much ‘bout irony, ‘cept
when it comes to the handcuffs the cops slap on your wrists when they nip
you, but I do know that you pay me to keep you safe,” Al remarked
brusquely. “An’ I can’t do that unless I know where you are.” Jim
hung his head in contrition. “I know, and for the hundredth time, I’m
sorry.” “There’s a lotta people dependin’ on you, boss.” Al’s voice took on a strangely
earnest quality. “Miss Trixie, the kids at this school, all the people who
work here, your family... You’ve gotta lotta folks that need you alive, Mr. Jim.” In a voice
barely above a gruff whisper, he added, “Me
included.” Jim
nodded in understanding. “I promise I’ll do better, Al.” As a token of that
promise, he reached out and patted the rough-looking man on the shoulder. “I
truly am sorry, and I hope you’ll forgive me.” Al’s
eyes widened in surprise. As a former outlaw, a friendly pat on the shoulder
was unfamiliar to him. Not only that, he hadn’t been expecting his employer’s
earnest plea for forgiveness. Where he came from, people in Jim Frayne’s
position never had to be forgiven for anything, no matter how wrong they had
been. “No
problem, Mr. Jim,” he finally muttered as he nervously shoved his meaty paws
into the front pockets of his jeans. “I shouldn’ta
got on you like I did. Why, you’re probably safer here by yourself than you
would be in the woods with me. This place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox.” Jim
chuckled as he recalled his paranoia from earlier that morning. “The notion
of someone breaking in here is pretty ridiculous, isn’t it?” Al
snorted loudly. “Yeah, I barely got in, and I’ve gotta key. That door in the gym is tricky to open. You justa ‘bout hafta haul out the
nitroglycerin and pull a Peterman to get inside.” “You
came in through the gymnasium?” Jim breathed a sigh of relief. So that’s
what I heard… “Uh-huh,”
Al affirmed with a nod. “I guess that’s a popular entrance today.” One
of Jim’s ginger-colored brows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean by
that?” “Well,
there was footprints in the snow outside that door,
so I assumed that’s where you came in,” Al explained. His ruddy complexion
went ashen as he beheld the sick look on Jim’s face. “That is where
you came in the school, right?” “I
used the front entrance,” Jim confessed, his voice solemn. “But when I got
here this morning, I thought I heard noises coming from the direction of the
gym.” Al
immediately let loose a string of cleverly arranged four-letter expletives
which would effectively alter the rating of a PG-rated film. When he had
finally calmed down enough to form a rational sentence, he turned to his
boss, his entire body shaking from the effort of suppressing his rage. “Do
you mean to tell me that somebody broke in the school while you was here? You shoulda tipped
your mitt before now, Mr. Jim! It coulda been that
psycho lookin’ to give you a fatal case of lead poisonin’!” “I
didn’t want to jump to any hasty conclusions,” Jim responded in an attempt to
placate his angry employee. “After all, the noises I heard could’ve been the
furnace, or the floor creaking, or maybe—” “Or
maybe it was that whack-job whose been writin’
you all those crazy letters, sendin’ in the
torpedoes to bump you off!” Al interjected huffily. Stubborn
redhead that he was, at this point Jim refused to admit that there was a good
chance Al was correct. “It was
probably just a student...” “And
what about the footprints outside?” Al’s glare proved he was just as
stubborn— if not more so — than his red-haired boss. “Could a kid have snuck
outside without you knowin’ about it?” “No,”
Jim admitted quietly. “The alarm was still activated, and it would’ve gone
off if anyone opened the door.” “So
it hadta be somebody from the outside,” Al
observed. Jim’s
voice took on a hopeful tone. “Even if somebody used the gymnasium entrance,
we don’t know it was the stalker. It could’ve just been a member of
the staff.” Al
squinted his eyes as he mulled Jim’s suggestion. “Do
a lotta them have a key that could open that
particular door?” Jim
abruptly cleared his throat, uneager to answer the
question he’d just been asked. He decided to ignore the query altogether.
“We’re being ridiculous; we don’t even know for sure that someone was
here.” “Maybe
you’re right,” Al acknowledged. “But if I was gonna
put money on it, I’d be willin’ to bet twenty large
that someone was here. And, if someone was here, how do we know
that he ain’t still in the school, waitin’ to squirt your conk fulla
metal?” Jim’s
throat went dry as he considered the possibility. He wasn’t sure exactly what
Al had said, but it didn’t sound pretty. “What do you suggest we do?” “Well,
you’re gonna finish that paperwork.” Al
plunked the heavy, black carryon that he’d brought with him onto Jim’s
mahogany desk. “And I’m gonna get to work installin’ a deadbolt on this door. I’m not leavin’ you here alone without first makin’
sure that you’re gonna be safe from the guy who’s lookin’ to do you up. Lucky for you that I planned to rig
you up with a new lock anyway, so I brought my tools with me.” “Can
you do that easily enough?” Jim inquired. “Yeah,
installin’ a deadbolt’s duck soup for a guy like
me,” Al muttered as he unzipped his bag and pulled out a heavy-duty drill and
a set of bits. “I used to work for a locksmith.” “You
told me on the plane that you were a bouncer,” Jim commented. “That
was after I hooked up with the Outlaws,” Al explained. “When I was still
legit, I worked as a locksmith. Fortunately for you, my mentor taught
me everything I needed to know about installin’
deadbolts. Unfortunately for me, he also taught me how to
unlock a vehicle without needin’ keys. Once my
older brother taught me how to hotwire an engine, well, I had everything I
needed to start a new vocation in grand theft auto, which came in handy when
I was short on dough and needed some quick cash to get my bike fixed. “It seemed
like a smart career choice at the time,” he added sadly. “You aren’t
the first person who’s thought the exact same thing,” Jim said in an attempt
to console him. “And unfortunately for us all, you won’t be the last.” “Yeah,” Al
mumbled. Too ashamed of his past to meet Jim’s gaze, he focused his attention
to the doorjamb on which he’d be working. “Well, I’m
glad you’re a handy guy,” Jim remarked, hoping to put the conversation on a
more even keel. “Oh, this
is nothin’ big.” Al made a pretense of carefully
studying the door on which he was going to install the deadbolt. “Now if this
door woulda been made outta
steel or fiberglass, I woulda needed a special bit
for my drill, but since it’s made out of solid wood, it won’t be too tough.” “What’re
you going to do after you finish installing the lock?” “Well,
after we ain’t got no
doubts that that lock works, you’re gonna try it
out,” Al replied. “You’re gonna hole up in this
office, and I’m gonna do a perimeter check to make
sure there ain’t no letter-writin’
loonies hidin’ under some desk, waitin’
to grab you by the ankle, yank you down on the ground, and stab you in the
neck with a pair of scissors. We don’t need no
Harlem sunset, if you get what I’m sayin’.” Jim
grimaced slightly at the vivid description. If Al’s intention was to make him
realize how serious this situation was, it worked. Jim’s cautious nature
finally resurfaced, and once again, he regretted how foolish he had been
earlier that morning. However, the reappearance of his wary side immediately
made him concerned about the safety of every person at Ten Acres. “I can’t
hide in this office all day, especially if the stalker is here,” he
argued. “I’m responsible for eight-five students, eighteen dorm monitors, as
well as a live-in couple who acts as our custodian and head cook. If you think
I’m going to take cover in here while that nutcase wreaks havoc in my school,
then you’re crazy!” “I’m not
just crazy; I’m certifiable,” Al affirmed with a chuckle. “Seriously, Mr.
Jim, I understand your concern, but right now you need to worry about yourself.
That weirdo’s not after these kids; he’s after you.” Jim leaned
back in his chair and steepled his fingers in a thoughtful pose. “I know
you’re probably right, but I’d never forgive myself if something happened to
one of my students or staff. It’s all I can do now to keep from doing a
perimeter check myself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but I have a
thing about needing to know what’s going on.” “I’ve
noticed,” Al admitted with a wince. “The need
to have a modicum of control over one’s situations is a trait common to
children who have lost a parent at an early age.” A sheepish smirk crept onto
the redhead’s face. “Sorry, Al. I don’t mean to bore you with all these
boring details. After all the psychology classes I’ve taken through the years,
I’ve been known to play armchair shrink and analyze myself.” “No problem,” Al said, shrugging. He tipped
his head downward in an attempt to stare down Jim. “But I don’t care how much
of that psychological mumbo-jumbo you spout off, I’m still not lettin’ you outta my sight. If
you’re gonna get outta
this office, you’re gonna have to get by me first.
And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a big guy.” “I’ve
noticed,” Jim echoed, grinning broadly. “And I think I know how we can both
do what we need to do without endangering anyone.” “This
should be good.” Al’s skepticism was evident in his body language. “What’re
you gonna do?” “I’m going
to make absolutely certain that nobody enters or leaves this school without
my permission,” Jim answered. “Let me take care of a few things and then I’ll
explain.” Jim
immediately picked up the phone and punched in a number. It didn’t take him
long to make the necessary calls to the school’s head dorm monitor and the
live-in custodian. After giving them a brief explanation of what was
happening, he told them he was putting the school in lockdown mode, and
instructed each of them to do a thorough search of their respective floors to
make sure the school was secure. After he
had finished his conversations, Jim’s fingers flew over the keyboard of his
computer. In no time, a loud thud was heard echoing through the
building. Al’s eyebrows rose
noticeably at the sound, but he remained quiet as he waited for his boss to
finish his task. Finally, Jim leaned
back in his chair, the stress of his situation weighing heavily upon him. Al couldn’t
contain his curiosity any longer. “Did you say somethin’
on the blower about a ‘lockdown’, Mr. Jim?” he asked,
a touch of awe in his voice. “Yes.” Jim
closed his eyes and massaged his forehead hoping it would provide relief to
his throbbing temples. “You mean,
‘lockdown’ like we had in the cooler?”
Jim
grimaced at the notion of his school being compared to a penitentiary. “Not with the same connotations, but yeah,
I guess it’s a similar concept. Although none of our students are prisoners,
some of them do have behavioral problems which could require us to take
precautionary measures. Thank goodness these measures have never been needed
until now.” “So, how’s it work?” “During
lockdown at Ten Acres, none of the exterior or stairwell doors can be opened
from the inside or outside, even with a key. It’s all controlled by computer
or the remote access panels by the exterior doors.” “So, what
you’re tellin’ me is that when you put the school
on lockdown, nobody can get in or leave?” Al clarified. Jim nodded.
“Yes, and in addition to that, nobody can open the doors to any of the
stairwells, so the people on the first floor can’t get to the second floor,
the people from the second floor can’t get to the third floor, and so on.” “And that
noise I heard…?” Al’s voice trailed off.
“…was the
sound of the steel fasteners on all the exits being successfully engaged,”
Jim supplied. Al nodded
slowly, as if trying to process this information. Jim smiled
slightly at his employee. “What’s wrong, Al? You look confused.” “Well, I
don’t wanna speak outta
turn or nothin’, but I’m havin’
a hard time understandin’ why you’d wanna lock everything down,” Al admitted. “I mean, I know
why they did that in prison, but you’re dealin’
with a buncha kids here. They wouldn’t cause no trouble.” “I wish
that were so, Al, but not all of our students are sweet, little angels,” Jim
explained. “As I said before, some of them have behavioral problems, and a
few of them have spent time in juvenile facilities. Whether we like it or
not, there’s always the possibility that one of them could cause trouble
here, and I have to protect the other students. Thankfully, we haven’t had
any problems yet, and I hope that continues.” “Me too,”
Al agreed quietly. His shoulders sagged as he studied Jim’s face with a
mixture of surprise and confusion. “You didn’t hafta
deal with this, Mr. Jim. You coulda jus’ accepted
the students you knew wouldn’t cause no trouble. You took a big risk, lettin’ these hop-heads an’ redhots
into your school.” Jim gave a
slight shrug of his shoulders. “I suppose so, but I decided the kids who were
the biggest risk had the greatest need.” “Is it
worth it?” “Definitely,”
Jim replied confidently. “At Ten Acres we believe everyone deserves a second
chance. After all, at one time weren’t the two of us nothing more than stray
dogs getting into trouble?” Al
chuckled. “You got that right, boss. And hey, we’re livin’
proof that ol’ dogs can learn new tricks.” “And just
in case it takes a few of our puppies longer than others to be schooled, we
have a few extra precautions here.” “Yeah, I
think I get your drift now,” Al said. “But I have one more question about
this lockdown thing.” “Shoot.” “If these
locks work like you say they do, don’t that mean
that if an intruder is here, that he can’t leave?” Al questioned.
“Wouldn’t he be trapped inside?” “Exactly.”
Jim’s mouth pressed together in a tightlipped smile. “That would make
catching him easier, wouldn’t you agree?” Al let out
a low, appreciative whistle. “That’s
some serious system.” “Yeah,” Jim
agreed. “It’s pretty innovative. Thanks to my father’s foresight— and funds—
we were able to install it for the school.
The system can only be activated by computer or by the keypads by the
doors, and only a select few know the code. It’s a precautionary tool we plan
to use sparingly, since nobody would be able to exit the building if there
was a fire or an emergency of a similar nature that would require a speedy
evacuation. However, such a setup is perfect in certain instances. For
example, if we had an incident with one of our students— God forbid — we’d be
able to contain the situation to a specific area of the building.” Jim paused before adding somberly, “And it
turned out to be perfect for this situation.” “How does
it work?” Al asked curiously, stepping a little closer to Jim’s desk in an
attempt to see his computer screen. “I just
typed the necessary information into my computer, and I was able to put all
of the floors on lockdown,” Jim told him.
“Now, my staff can do a search without worrying about the kids. They’ll call me when they’re
finished.” Jim sighed wearily, leaning
back in his chair, but still not looking completely relaxed. “Hopefully they
won’t find anything worth reporting.” “Hopefully.” Al studied his employer,
sympathy softening his weathered features. “It’ll be okay, Mr. Jim. We’re gonna make sure your kids are safe.” “I’d feel
better if I were doing the searches myself,” Jim commented in an offhand
manner. “Don’t you
trust the guys you got workin’ for you?” Jim
shrugged his shoulders, completely at a loss for words. “You really
are a control freak,” Al said with a chuckle. “You know, you went to a
whole lotta trouble hirin’
these people, Mr. Jim. I bet you checked and rechecked references till your
eyes crossed, makin’ sure you hired the best folks
for the job. And they ain’t all ex-cons, I assume?” A hint of a
smile twitched at the corners of Jim’s mouth. “No, they’re not. I don’t make
a habit of finding my employees at drag queen bars.” “So relax,”
Al ordered. “Trust the people workin’ here to do
the job you hired ‘em to do.” Jim merely nodded, his features devoid of any emotion whatsoever. “Trustin’ people’s hard for you, ain’t
it?” Al narrowed his gaze as he carefully examined his employer’s face. “Somethin’ musta happened in
your past to make you this way.” Jim’s
emotionless mask remained firmly in place. “I can tell
by your face that I hit the nail on the head,” Al replied. “I can also
tell that you ain’t in no mood to talk about it, so
I’m not gonna keep on bumpin’
my gums.” “Thank
you,” was Jim’s quiet response. Al leaned
forward closer to Jim. His normally gruff voice took on an almost
grandfatherly quality. “But I’m also gonna tell
you that eventually you’re gonna hafta trust someone. If you don’t, you’re never gonna put those demons of yours to rest.” He chuckled,
and then added, “You don’t hafta add the cost of
that advice to my tab; it was on the house.” That final
comment successfully put a smile on the redhead’s face. “That’s actually
pretty good advice,” he said. “I’ll try to remember it the next time I’m
having trust issues.” Jim’s
shaggy guardian picked up the drill he’d placed on the desk. “Well, if I’m gonna keep you safe from the chopper squad,
I’d better start workin’ on that deadbolt now.” “All
right,” Jim agreed. “I’ll just finish shredding these pa—” “Hey, how
‘bout you hold off on that, boss?” Al interjected quickly. “This drill’s gonna be loud enough as it is, and if anyone comes
through the door to your secretary’s office, I don’t wanna
be caught off guard.” “Good
point.” Jim shot him a rueful grin. “How about I finish looking at these
enrollment forms instead?” “Good idea,
Mr. Jim.” Jim averted
his gaze downward in the direction of his paperwork. However, he simply
couldn’t concentrate as he found something else to worry about. “What about
you?” he asked suddenly. “If someone is in the building, will you
be okay? I could call upstairs and ask one of the other dorm monitors to help
you search…” “Don’t
worry about me, boss,” Al told him earnestly. “I’ll be okay.” “Maybe I
could go with y—” “You’re stayin’ here, Mr. Jim.” Although Al’s voice was dead
calm, it was clear that he meant business. “After bein’
in a motorcycle gang for almost twenty years, and then spendin’
ten years in the clink, I’ve learned a thing or two about survival. I can
take care of myself.” Jim, still
skeptical, cocked a ginger brow in query. “And how will you do that? I don’t
know if you’re aware of this, but since this is a school, firearms
aren’t allowed within one-thousand feet of Ten Acres. I hope you aren’t
carrying a gun…” “That ain’t gonna be a problem, Mr.
Jim; I ain’t packin’
heat.” Al gave a wry chuckle. “This convicted felon ain’t exactly dyin’ to go back
to jail, so I ain’t plannin’
on touchin’ a bean-shooter with a five-foot pole.” “Sorry, Al.
I forgot about that little detail,” Jim admitted sheepishly. The
leather-clad man hooted with laughter. “Well, forgettin’
my checkered past ain’t a bad thing, I guess. There
ain’t many people I’ve met who’ve been able to
forget about my record.” Jim nodded
in understanding. “I think you’ll find that Sleepyside is a good place to
start over. You won’t be the first citizen who’s made a fresh start here.
Lots of Sleepyside’s finest have skeletons in their closets. We don’t ask you
to keep your skeletons hidden; what’s important is making sure they don’t
take over your whole house.” “That’s
good to know.” Al put down his drill, and looked at his employer earnestly.
“I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, Mr. Jim. A guy
like me don’t get many breaks, and buh-lieve
me, I don’t intend on disappointin’ you. You’ve got
my word that I’ll protect you from this nut, or die tryin’.” “I hope it
doesn’t come to that,” Jim said quietly. “Well, even
if it does, at least I’ll be able to say that, for once in my life, somebody
believed in Al Spurgeon.” The bearded
bodyguard laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Considerin’
how much trouble you musta went through to talk my
parole officer in California into lettin’ me come
to New York, I’m surprised you haven’t sent me packin’
by now.” “It’s
amazing how a hefty donation to the LAPD can persuade a parole board to
transfer the responsibility of a former guest of the California penal system
to a probation officer in New York,” Jim quipped. “And I guess it also didn’t
hurt that Dad has a few connections in the California governor’s office…” A chuckle
rumbled from deep within Al’s belly. “Well, no matter how you did it, I’m
glad you did. I think I’m gonna like it here.” With that, he turned back to his chore of
installing the deadbolt. In no time at all, he had taped a template onto the
doorjamb to show him where to drill, and was preparing to do the same thing to
the actual door. Jim,
however, was having no such luck accomplishing his tasks. In spite of the
pile of forms on his desk that required his immediate attention, he found it
impossible to focus on his paperwork. His thoughts kept wandering back to the
noise he had heard earlier that morning. No matter how he tried to reassure
himself that all was well, the fear that something was amiss in Ten Acres
continuously niggled at the back of his mind. Jim grew more certain by the
minute that someone had been in the school. The
question was: Was he still there?
Thank
you so much to the trio of lovely ladies who edited this story, Kaye, Steph H, and Trish. I apologize
that the first part of this chapter was so boring, but there were some
crucial details in there. Some of that information was important for this
story, and some is crucial for other stories. At
the end of these notes, I’m going to include a special glossary that will
define all those curious words that Al uses. As
explained in previous stories, Ms. Trask is now Jim’s Vice-Principal and
Celia is now the estate manager for Manor House. The pretty dark-haired maid
is Monica. A
similar lockdown system is used in the juvenile detention center where my
husband sometimes preaches. According to one of my editors, it wouldn’t be
legal to use this particular system in a New York school, but hey, this is
Cameo-land where strange things happen. *g* Al’s
glossary: Grift- a
swindle Gave
the buzz- showed up at the door Meat-
a subject of interest Taken
the run-out- escaped Got
a slant at- looked at Rub
one out- to kill Giggle
juice- liquor Throw
a joe- pass out Looker-
a pretty lady Snapping
a cap- having a fit Dish-
a pretty lady Close
one’s head- to be quiet Tomato-
a pretty lady Give
the bum’s rush- to get rid of Number-
a pretty lady Ride-
car Heap-
car Got
the curse on you- somebody want to kill you Head
doctor- psychiatrist To
nip- to arrest A
Peterman- a safecracker who uses explosives Tipped
your mitt- revealed something Fatal
case of lead poisoning- to murder someone by shooting them with a gun Torpedoes- Hired killers Twenty
large- $20,000 Squirt
one’s conk- shoot someone in the head Do
one up- kill someone Blower-
the telephone Cooler-
prison Hop-heads-
drug addicts Redhots-
criminals Duck
soup- easy Harlem
sunset- a fatal injury caused by a knife Bumping
one’s gums- to keep talking Packing
heat- carrying a gun Bean-shooter-
gun
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Author’s
