Paradise Falls (A Romantic Suspense) Read online

  “What are you doing here?” said Jennifer.

  Krystal skipped right to the point. “Whose car is that?”

  “What car?

  “There’s an Aston Martin in the parking lot. Todd said it was really expensive, like a million dollars. It has a V-12.”

  Jennifer shrugged.

  “Is it a teacher?”

  “I don’t know, Krystal.” Jennifer sighed. “Go back to the cafeteria.”

  What would a car like that be doing in the teacher’s lot? It had to be the same man who interrupted Elliot’s snatch attempt earlier. Not many people were cruising around Paradise Falls in absurdly expensive supercars. Her finger stung. She had her wedding band pinched in her fingers, and was worrying it around her ring finger.

  “What color is it?” Jennifer asked.

  “Blue. Like a sky blue. It’s really pretty. Todd said they can paint them any color you want, instead of picking from a list, you know? There’s a new teacher this year, right?”

  “Four, I think,” said Jennifer. “I haven’t met any of them yet.”

  “Do you think the car belongs to one of them?”

  “I can’t imagine someone with that kind of money teaching,”

  Krystal’s eyes scrunched as she leaned forward. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Krystal crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side. “Something’s up. What happened to your arm?”

  “Nothing is up,” Jennifer snapped.

  Krystal wilted a little. “Oh. Okay. I’ll see you later. I have you for AP English.”

  “Right,” said Jennifer. “I’ll see you then. I didn’t mean to snap…”

  Krystal nodded, but looked at the floor as she shuffled away down the hall. Great. Jennifer leaned against the cool brick wall and breathed out slowly. Her hands shook. She had hallway duty anyway, so she might as well stay out here. As she paced from one side of the hall to the other, the light on in the classroom across the hall from hers raised suspicion. Someone moving around inside threw a shadow on the wall every time he passed the frosted glass window.

  The other teachers arrived. Her boss, Julius Kazmeyer, rolled a cart down the hall to his classroom. It carried a misshapen assortment of random junk, papers, coffee cups, Scantron sheets, and the other teaching debris. Why he took that all home with him, especially over the summer, she had no idea. The department head was set in his ways and abrasive to the extreme, and Jennifer generally avoided him unless there was a mandatory meeting. One of the oldest teachers in the building, Kazmeyer had Jennifer’s father for a student, yet he appeared unchanged from year to year.

  Rachel, whose classroom was right next to Jennifer’s, sauntered down the hall. During Jennifer’s first year teaching, Rachel quickly became her mentor and then kept Jennifer’s classes on track when she took her bereavement leave. If not for Rachel, Jennifer might’ve quit and not even finished the year. More than once, Jennifer spent the remaining part of her afternoon crying her eyes out on Rachel’s shoulder. Despite everything, Jennifer lit up when her colleague approached.

  “Hey you,” Rachel said.

  She lowered three big tote bags and a backpack full of supplies to the floor. Every teacher except Jennifer brought in everything the first day. For two weeks before classes started, Jennifer prepped her classroom on and off. Rachel swished and swirled her tie-dyed cotton skirt as she fished out her key and opened the door.

  “Hi,” Jennifer sighed.

  Rachel popped right back out of the room, and eyed Jennifer.

  “What happened?”

  Jennifer shifted on her feet and forced her expression to remain neutral.

  Rachel motioned into her room. “Come on.”

  “I have hall duty-“

  “Piss on hall duty. Get in here.”

  Jennifer followed her inside, and Rachel swung the door shut.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Jennifer cleared her throat, and looked down at the floor, running her hand over her bandaged arm. She bit her lip. Rachel leaned back on one of the desks.

  “I was on my way to work…” Jennifer began.

  “Go on.”

  “Elliot was outside. He had Grayson with him. They followed me to work and they cut me off and I fell off my bike. Elliot tried to force me into the car.”

  Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s it, we’re calling the cops.”

  Jennifer stormed across the room, clenching her fists. “Don’t you think I’ve tried that? The last time I called them, they sent Grayson’s brother to take the report.”

  “This is serious, Jenn. There’s a point where this needs to stop, and we’ve clearly passed it. You should go to Brock and see what he can do.”

  “He drove me to school,” Jennifer said. “He said the same thing. Do you really think anyone is going to do anything to Elliot? He can do whatever he wants, and he knows it.”

  “Brock ran them off?”

  “Kind of.” Jennifer looked out the window. A knot of students still gossiped and bantered around the car. “Did you see that car?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said. “I was going to ask you about that, but… so what?”

  “The driver pulled up while Elliot was trying to push me into his car. Confront them.”

  “He confronted Elliot and Grayson? Who is this guy?”

  “I don’t know.” Jennifer said. “I’ve never seen him before. I think I haven’t, anyway. He knew my name. He called me Miss K.”

  “That’s weird.” Rachel glanced at the clock. “We’ve got to get back out in the hall. I’m not done talking to you about this. We need to involve the authorities somehow. Call the FBI or something.”

  Jennifer shook her head. “You know who his father is.”

  Rachel led the way out of the classroom. Jennifer stepped out behind her and froze. The new teacher was out in the hallway, leaning on the wall. It was him. He leaned on the wall like a student with one foot raised to rest on the locker behind him, arms folded over his chest. He glanced at Jennifer so quickly she would never have noticed without looking right at him. His throat tightened and sucked in a breath before he stood up.

  “Hi,” he said, extending his hand. “Jacob Kane. I’m the new math teacher-“

  “You’re a teacher?” Rachel barked, halfway to laughter. “I should start buying lottery tickets.”

  “You remember me?” he said.

  “Of course I remember you, knucklehead. Where have you been?”

  Jennifer swallowed. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” he said.

  Jennifer braced herself as the wheels turned in Rachel’s head, making the inevitable connection between herself and the new teacher.

  “That was you?” Rachel said, wide-eyed.

  “You must mean this morning.” Jacob itched the top of the scar running down his cheek. “You heard about that.”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said. “Good, we have a witness. Let’s call the cops.”

  Too busy staring at Jacob, Jennifer ignored Rachel’s proposal. He looked even bigger in the school hallway. The tops of the lockers were barely up to his chin. She actually had to look up at him, which she wasn’t used to at all.

  Jacob kept his eyes constantly locked on Jennifer ever since he acknowledged the two of them, even throughout his conversation with Rachel. He finally looked away, shifting from side to side on his feet. She could swear he was turning red. It made the scar stand out.

  Rachel glanced over at Jennifer. In an attempt not to appear so smitten with Jacob, Jennifer forced her eyes downward to her scraped hand. Without realizing it, she’d taken a loose strand of hair and twisted it around her finger. She shook the hair free, and then she didn’t have a clue what to do with her hands. Jennifer smoothed the front of her blouse, then crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her shoulders in. Her heart pounded against her ribs and a light, fluttery feeling danced in her stomach. Even though she tried to look away, Jacob’s piercing eyes kept drawing her back.

  With a knowing look addressed to both of them, Rachel retreated into her classroom. “We shouldn’t talk about this where the kids can hear. I’ll talk to you both about it later.”

  She closed her door, and left them alone. Jennifer willed the bell to ring and flood the hallway with students, but it didn’t. She felt like she was six inches tall.

  “She’s right. Something has to be done about this.”

  “Who are you?” Jennifer asked. “How did you know my name?”

  “You wouldn’t remember me. I was a senior when you started teaching. I had Mrs. Garrison… Rachel, I mean.”

  “Oh.” That made sense. She had freshmen that year.

  “Are you hurt? How’s your leg?”

  “It’ll be fine in a couple of days. I’ll ice it up when I get home.”

  His voice lowered. “Has he done that before?”

  She shook her head. “He’s never tried to force me into a car before, if that’s what you’re asking. Usually it’s just driving by the house. He doesn’t come by the school anymore. Brock, you know, the school resource officer?”

  “We’ve met,” Jacob said.

  Jennifer raised an eyebrow. Something in his voice said it wasn’t on the best of terms.

  “He won’t let Elliot near the school. He’s my brother-in-law. Elliot, I mean.”

  “I know,” said Jacob.

  What? Oh, right.

  “You did say you knew him.”

  He shrugged. “He’s the mayor’s son and he works for the city. I don’t know him personally.”

  “Oh.”

  He moved closer, and she froze. She stood to her full height but she had to look up anyway.

  “Do you know what he wanted?”

  Jennifer started to answer, but bit her lip and looked away.

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I… ah…” he trailed off, and backed away.

  All of a sudden, she couldn’t take the way he was looking at her. It was her ring. Her wedding band went from itching on her finger to throbbing, like it was getting hot. She tugged at it, found it stuck fast as it ever was, and folded her arms again.

  “Listen,” he said. “Rachel is right. If you want to go to the police, I’ll give a statement. I’ll back you up, one hundred percent. Promise.”

  Jennifer looked up. “Why? Why’d you bother?”

  She could see his jaw working as he thought about an answer, but the bell ringing interrupted. Students quickly filled the hall like they sprung out of the ground. Jacob stepped back, but it was too late. Jennifer could feel the wheels turning, the rumors and innuendos taking shape around her. Miss Katzenberg the Ice Queen was talking to a man.

  “So, what’s your class load like?”

  He blinked and leaned on the lockers. “AP Calc, Trig, Algebra II and another Trig.”

  “Wow,” Jennifer said. “That sounds complicated.” She felt her mask settling back into place, and raised her voice a little. “Aren’t you a little young to be teaching?”

  “I’m on an emergency cert. I only have my bachelor’s in math.”

  “Oh,” Jennifer said. “Well, good luck with all that. I’ll be across the hall if you need me for anything.”

  He looked at her again, and she could swear he appeared almost wistful. “I’ll be there if you need anything, too.”

  As he retreated to his classroom, Jennifer leaned back on the cool brick wall and watched the kids. Krystal stole glances at her from down the hall, and conversed with some of her friends in a hushed huddle. Jennifer pointedly looked away, and avoided engaging them. Krystal drew up wedding plans whenever a male teacher showed her any attention. At this rate, she’d have to stop them from baking a cake. Gently explaining it was inappropriate and irritating only seemed to egg her on, so Jennifer simply gave up.

  Free from hall duty when the warning bell rang, she stepped back into the room and closed the door all in the same motion, then took a sharp breath of chilly air. The ductwork that ran around the classroom’s high ceiling had the same Frankenstein quality of old grafted onto new, just like everything else in the building, but it worked well enough on the outside rooms. It would actually be cold in here until the students came in.

  Jennifer took a walk around the room, swinging and lifting her arm in an attempt to dry out the sweat. She felt calmer now, centered. Still, the conversation in the hallway nagged at her. His scar, the expensive car, his fingers. His eyes. She shook her head and walked over to the window. The truth was she’d have plenty of work tomorrow, or maybe next week. But on the first day of school, there was little to do but lay out her materials.

  Clouds rolled in and threw huge shadows over the athletic fields. Behind and to the right of her window, a large hill rose on the other side of the deep but narrow gorge dug out by the Susquehanna river south of town. A windy road led to the very top of the biggest hill, and a sprawling house held up by pilings driven into the ground crouched over a sheer drop. The house once belonged to her great grandfather. He founded the dairy, building it into a commercial empire that kept the town growing and prospering after the oil production declined and coal mines closed up.

  Activity surrounded the house this morning. She couldn’t read the markings on the two large tractor trailer rigs crouched outside. Shiny yellow scaffolding crawled up the side of the house. Workmen in white coveralls gradually covered the fading white paint with a fresh coat. A nearly identical truck rumbled past the school and she caught a glimpse of the side: M. Morrel, Movers. Something about that tickled her brain. That name.

  Jennifer pulled herself away from the window and distributed the syllabi. Ninety minutes was both an eternity and a blink in a school. She wasted nearly twenty minutes just staring at the house on the hill, thinking.

  3.

  Jennifer headed back into the hallway to wait for the bell. Jacob was out in the hall with his arms folded, towering over all but the tallest boys. Calmer than she’d been on her first day, he introduced himself to the students warmly as they walked into his room. He shook the boys’ hands while looking them in the eye, and gave the girls big smiles. Most smiled back, while a few formed knots in the flow of traffic and spoke secretly to each other. He ignored it just the right way, without making it obvious he was ignoring it. Jennifer couldn’t hear what he was saying over the din of the class change. She authoritatively looked around, stood to her full height, and then half-closed her door as a subtle reminder to the kids still lingering in the hallway that the time was upon them.

  The warning bell tolled. Jennifer turned back to her classroom. She had a full count of kids, so she pulled the door shut and went to her desk to grab a stack of papers, letting them chat until the tardy bell. Honors courses could be just as difficult, behavior-wise, as any other class. This was a small group, but she couldn’t let that lower her guard. When the tardy bell rang, she strode to the center of the room.

  “Everybody grab a syllabus,” she said.

  Jennifer watched them pull the papers she laid out from the center of the tables and start flipping through them.

  “Let’s make sure we’re all here.” Jennifer pulled her clipboard from under her arm.

  She read off the list of names, acknowledging each grunt or feebly lifted hand. A quick headcount confirmed they were all there, but she needed to put names to the faces of the kids she wasn’t familiar with like a pair of transfer students, plus a few others that she didn’t know from her freshman classes.

  Once that was done, Jennifer went around the room and had students volunteer to read sections of the syllabus that outlined her policy on attendance and make up work, a list of assignments to be completed throughout the semester, and a reading list some of the students groaned at.

  A pale boy with long lanky hair and a tendency to dress in black raised his hand. “Do we have to read all of these?”

  “Yes.” Jennifer said brightly.

  Kelly raised her hand. Jennifer had her as a freshman. “It says here we pick five from the list.”

  Jennifer smiled. “What does it say at the bottom?”

  “Read the directions carefully,” Kelly intoned.

  “Exactly.” She looked around. “That’s how I know you’ll pay attention. I often give written instructions. If you ignore the directions and ask me if you have to do all the assignments or read all the books, I’ll say yes.” She shrugged. “At least you might get some extra credit out of it.”

  Several of them looked at her sharply, but said nothing. Jennifer kept her smile on her face, and strode around the room as she explained some of the syllabus’ finer points.

  “You’ll see a writing prompt on the board.” She looked back at it. “I thought ‘tell me about your summer’ was a little trite, and frankly reading fifty of them would make my eyes bleed. So I’ll have you, as seniors, tell me about your future plans.”

  “I ain’t got any paper,” one of the new boys said, sheepishly raising his hand.

  Jennifer sighed and pointed to the supply table by the door.

  “When I run out of paper, I’m out. The school only gives me so much,” she said.

  “I forgot,” the boy shrugged.

  “Did you ride the bus to school this morning?”

  He nodded.

  “Did the bus driver forget the bus?”

  He shook his head.

  “I think you see my point. In any case, there’s a supply list on the next to last page of the syllabus. I’d like to point that out again in case some of you missed it. You will be required to turn in your notebooks at regular intervals, and the journal and other requirements are thirty percent of your grade.”

  “This is a lot of work,” said one of the girls. Jennifer had to think for a moment to place her. Jessica was her name, and she was in one of Jennifer’s sophomore classes.

  “It’s nothing compared to what you’ll be doing in college, believe me.”

  Jessica frowned.

  “When it’s done, you’ll look back on it and be surprised how little it actually seems. This is the honors class. I have to push you, or I wouldn’t be giving you what you signed up for, would I?”