Valentin (Bayou Brotherhood Protectors #6)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Valentin pushed through the heavy doors at the front entrance of the Bayou Mambo Junior High at eight o’clock Saturday morning.

He’d received a voicemail from his team lead, Remy Montagne, in the middle of the night, asking him to be there.

“I’ll explain then,” Remy had added to the end of the message.

Valentin had been out in the bayou frog gigging with Mitchell Marceau, the local marina owner, when the message had come through. Given the late hour, or early in this case, Valentin had refrained from calling Remy for clarification.

They’d already collected all the frogs Mitch needed to supply the Crawdad Hole Bar and Grill and had been heading back to the marina when Valentin had gotten the message.

Curious and still wired from the hunt, Valentin had returned to the boarding house where he’d been staying since coming on board with the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors.

What could be happening at the local junior high on a Saturday morning that required the protectors to be in attendance?

Valentin had stripped down to his boxer briefs and lay across the comforter with his hands laced behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, imagining different scenarios.

Maybe Remy wanted the Brotherhood Protectors to help out at a school function. Valentin had planned on sleeping in that morning, but he shrugged that thought off. Whatever Remy had in mind would probably only take half a day or less, and Valentin would have the rest of the day to himself.

When he arrived in the junior high parking lot, he was surprised to find only a few vehicles there and no children. Among the vehicles were Remy’s truck and a Parrish Sheriff’s SUV. That fact didn’t concern him too much, as Remy’s wife was Deputy Shelby Taylor. He didn’t recognize the other vehicles.

No one waited at the reception desk for his arrival or to guide him to wherever he was to meet his team lead. Voices sounded from behind the counter and down a short hall. He followed the sound to an open doorway and stepped into a conference room with five people seated at the end of a long table, four of which he recognized. Remy occupied one of the seats with Shelby at his side. Across the table from them was Sheriff Bergeron and Landry Laurent, another member of the Brotherhood.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Remy waved a hand toward an empty seat and turned to the older woman wearing a black blazer and cream blouse seated at the head of the table. “Principal Ashcraft, this is Valentin Vashon, one of the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors on my team and the man I had in mind for this mission.” Remy turned to Valentin. “Valentin, this is Ms. Ashcraft, the principal of the Bayou Mambaloa Junior High.”

Valentin crossed the room and extended his hand to the principal. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed as she reluctantly accepted his hand and greeting. “Mr. Vashon, the pleasure is mine.” She dropped his hand and turned to Remy. “I don’t know,” she said. “He’s not exactly what I would’ve pictured to play the part,” she said. “Do you have anyone who is less…” she struggled as if searching for an appropriate word, “less intimidating?”

Remy chuckled. “The men on our team are all combat veterans who spent a number of years on active duty fighting for our country. Excuse them if they tend to look a little intimidating. But trust me, they can get the job done. Valentin and Landry are no exception.”

Valentin dropped into an empty chair, a frown pulling at his brow. “What’s going on? Did you call us in to take on a mission?”

“Yes,” Remy said.

“No,” Principal Ashcraft spoke simultaneously.

Remy pressed on. “I take it you haven’t heard that the school was attacked last night. A man broke into a classroom, trashed it and spray-painted the walls with threats. He seemed to be focused on the one classroom assigned to the science teacher. Shelby answered the call last evening and brought it to my attention.”

“Was anybody injured?” Valentin asked.

“Yes,” the principal responded. “Our janitor, Mr. Jones.”

Deputy Taylor added, “He was knocked unconscious. He hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

“One of the students and our science teacher were in the building at the time, hiding in another classroom until Mr. Jones was attacked,” Principal Ashcraft said. “Miss Maudet ran after Mr. Jones to warn him but was too late. The attacker escaped after hitting the janitor.”

“Miss Maudet is a friend of mine,” Deputy Taylor said. “She and the student were pretty shaken by the experience.”

Remy picked up from there. “Our team can help in this situation. They are sworn protectors.”

“I’m not so sure your team can help,” Principal Ashcraft said. “The children are my primary concern. Your men haven’t been cleared through the state’s strict background check.”

“Principal Ashcraft,” Remy said, “My men have been through some of the most stringent background checks, securing federal top-secret clearances. They’ve been entrusted with information critical to the security of our nation and our people. I trust them with my life, your life, and the lives of each and every one of the children under your care.”

The principal's lips press together in a tight line. “There has to be another way.”

Sheriff Bergeron leaned his arms on the table and fixed his gaze on Principal Ashcraft. “I don’t have the staff to assign an officer to the school. Your PE teacher, Miss Sutton, informed you she was not coming back until the assailant has been identified and incarcerated.”

Deputy Taylor added, “You’re short a PE teacher and a janitor. Your students and staff are at risk and will likely be scared. The other alternative is to shut down the school until the perpetrator is caught. That could take time.”

Principal Ashcraft shook her head. “We can’t afford to lose state funding. We barely get enough now to pay the staff and the utility bills.”

“Principal Ashcraft…” the sheriff reached across the table for the principal’s hand and held it in his big one, “Joyce, this alternative makes sense. The Brotherhood Protectors can provide you with alternative staffing and the protection your students and staff need until we can identify the attacker and bring him to justice. It will also give you time to find temporary replacements for your PE teacher and Mr. Jones.”

Principal Ashcraft sighed, staring at her hand covered by Sheriff Bergeron’s. “I know you’re right. It’s just that everything is happening so quickly, I can’t wrap my head around it.” She looked across into the sheriff’s eyes. “Who would do such a thing to a junior high?”

“I don’t know,” the sheriff said. “But we intend to find out.”

“At least he didn’t attack during the school day,” Deputy Taylor offered.

“Or with an automatic weapon,” the sheriff added softly.

Valentin winced. What the sheriff said was true, but telling a school principal that harsh information might be a little too much, although Valentin suspected the sheriff had used the statement for its shock factor to get through to the principal.

Joyce Ashcraft blanched and pressed a hand to her mouth. “He’s still out there. Who’s to say he won’t come back with that automatic weapon?”

“Our guys will basically be undercover,” Remy said. “If the perpetrator returns, he won’t know what he’ll be up against.”

Principal Ashcraft’s frown deepened. “Wouldn’t it be better to have somebody dressed in a police uniform as a visual deterrent to anyone who might consider attacking the junior high?”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Valentin asked.

Remy tipped his head toward Landry. “Landry will fill in for Mr. Jones, the janitor and work the night shift, keeping an eye on the school.” The team lead smiled at Valentin. “I want you to fill in for Miss Sutton, the PE teacher.”

Those eyebrows dipped low. “Me? A PE teacher to children?”

“That’s right,” Remy said.

Valentin clamped his lips shut to keep from arguing in front of the principal. He’d wait until she was out of earshot to tell Remy what he thought of the assignment.

“I wouldn’t exactly call them children,” Principal Ashcraft said. “They are young ladies and gentlemen ages thirteen through fifteen. They might take offense to being called children.” She drew a breath and let it out slowly. “Okay then, I guess I don’t have much choice. I can’t close the school, and I can’t risk the lives of my students and staff.” Her brow puckered. “Having the Brotherhood Protectors on campus would make it a safer place. However, did you understand when I said we don’t have enough budget to pay the utilities and the staff? How are we going to pay your team?”

Remy gave the principal a gentle smile. “We don’t offer our protection solely to people who can pay. Our founders, Hank Patterson and Sadie McClain, have picked up the tab on a number of occasions.”

“Well, I guess that settles it then.” Principal Ashcraft pushed to her feet. When all the men at the table started to rise, she held up her hands. “Please stay seated. I’m sure you have more to talk about. Thank you for coming to our assistance. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to get ready. I meet with the president of the PTA next. I’m sure she will coordinate a volunteer effort to get the classroom cleaned up and ready for school as usual on Monday.”

Remy nodded. “Members of our team will be here to help set things to rights and clean and paint.”

The principal left the conference room.

When the sheriff stood, Deputy Taylor did as well. Remy, Landry and Valentin all stood as one.

“I’m on duty,” Deputy Taylor said, “or I would stay and help.”

“I’ll be here,” Sheriff Bergeron said, “after I go home and change out of this monkey suit. We don’t have the budget to replace uniforms due to paint splatter.” He gave the others a mock salute and left the room.

Remy handed a sheet of paper to Valentin. “This is your class schedule for the week. You might want to memorize it.”

Valentin followed Remy out to the hall, determined to rectify this bogus assignment. “I know you’ve heard me say this before, and believe me, it’s no secret—I left the Navy to avoid teaching new BUD/S recruits, kids who are wet behind the ears. I know nothing about children. I was an only child. Practically an adult since birth.” Valentin turned to Landry. “You had siblings, didn’t you?”

Landry grinned. “We were stairstep children, all fourteen months apart. We gave our parents hell from the ages of 12 through 18.” His grin widened. “I can’t think of a better person to fill in as a PE teacher than you.” The man had the audacity to chuckle. “Consider it a learning experience. I bet those kids have more to teach you than you have to teach them.”

Valentin snorted in disgust and turned back to Remy. “I’d be more suited as the janitor than PE teacher,” Valentin said. “Landry would be much better equipped to lead young teens in hopscotch and kickball than I would.”

Remy shook his head. “It’s settled. Valentin. You’ll fill in as the PE teacher. Landry will take up where Mr. Jones left off as the janitor. Your new duties begin Monday, an hour before the first bell rings. And Valentin, you might want to brush up on activities for the gifted and talented. Miss Sutton was not only the PE teacher but also led the gifted and talented class.”

Valentin groaned. “Is it too late to hand in my resignation?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“That ship sailed when you signed on with the Bayou Brotherhood Protectors, vowing to take on any assignment no matter how big or small.” Remy grinned.

Holy hell, he was stuck. Valentin shoved a hand through his hair, wondering why he’d signed on as a Brotherhood Protector.

Remy’s gleeful smirk stuck in Valentin’s craw, making him grumpier than sleep deprivation could count for.

His team lead clapped his hands together. “Lucas and Beau are at the hardware store picking up paint, brushes, rollers and drop cloths. Gerard is borrowing brooms, dust pans and mops from Broussard’s General Store. Hank is arranging for a glass company out of New Orleans to make a special trip today to replace the broken window. Our team is scheduled to converge on the damaged classroom in forty-five minutes. You need to go change into old clothes you don’t mind getting paint on and get back here in time to get to work.”

Valentin grumbled beneath his breath, “I don’t even like kids.”

“Maybe not but let me show you what we’re dealing with.” Remy turned to the right and strode down a long corridor, stopping in front of one door. He waved a hand toward the room. “See for yourself.

Valentin and Landry entered the room.

Landry let out a low whistle. “Wow. It looks like this place was struck by a tornado.”

He was right. Every desk either lay on its side or upside down. Some desktops were broken. Metal legs were bent at odd angles. Plastic seats were destroyed. The whiteboard had been ripped off the wall, along with posters depicting the periodic table and diagrams of the bones, muscles, tendons and ligaments in the body.

Bold red paint had been sprayed across the walls, forming vicious, threatening statements.

EVOLUTION IS BLASPHEMY

MIZ MO THE HO

SAY NO TO SEX ED

DIE BITCH!

LEAVE OR DIE!

“Did the student and science teacher see this?” Valentin said quietly.

“Yes,” Remy answered behind him.

“That’s not just destruction of property,” Valentin said. “Those are real threats. Is anyone watching out for the science teacher at this time?”

“Shelby’s on her way to Miss Maudet’s cottage as we speak,” Remy said. “They had a unit cruise by her place several times during the night.”

“Is that enough?” Valentin asked.

“Not as far as I can tell.” Remy stepped up beside Valentin. “From what Shelby says, she’s pretty independent and would resist having a bodyguard assigned. That’s where you come in. Befriend her. Get close. She may not think she needs someone looking out for her, but she does.”

“Then why not just assign me as her bodyguard? Why all the pretense of being a PE teacher?” Valentin asked.

“Shelby and the sheriff thought it best that the school, the students and the staff remain unaware that the people replacing the PE teacher, and the janitor are there to look after them. Most importantly, we don’t want the vandal to know that you’ll be watching for him. He has to be a member of the community. He knew Miss Maudet was the science teacher and that she has Darwinism and sex education as part of her curriculum. Plus, he knew exactly which room he was vandalizing."

Valentin felt sorry for the old teacher. It was hard enough to teach teenagers. To be attacked so viciously might screw with her mental health.

Remy turned to Valentin. “So, now that you’ve seen the damage, do you still want to submit your resignation?”

Valentin sighed. “No. But I still think Landry would be the better PE teacher.”

“So noted.” Remy glanced down at his watch. “You have forty minutes to change and be back here. Something else you might want to consider is that the whole community might show up to help with the cleanup effort. That might include the students and teachers. I’ll be introducing you two as the replacement PE teacher and janitor to get the ball rolling.”

Great. Valentin was truly stuck as the PE teacher. He walked with Landry out of the building, making a beeline for his truck.

Landry followed and clapped a hand on Valentin’s back. “Congratulations, old man. I can’t wait to see the reactions on your students’ faces when you drop them for push-ups.”

“Shut up,” Valentin snarled. “You’ll be too busy scrubbing toilets and prying gum from beneath desktops to see the students’ reactions.”

Landry smile faded. “Can’t be any worse than scrubbing latrines in basic training.” He frowned. “On second thought, I remember how gross the bathrooms were when I was in school. If I thought there was any chance of swapping jobs, I’d appeal to Remy in a heartbeat.” Landry’s grin reappeared. “Then you could scrub all the toilets and the dried gum.”

“I’m barely good with adults,” Valentin said. “I know nothing about teens.”

“They like it when you speak to them like they’re adults,” Landry said. “Boys can be pigheaded, and they do stupid shit. Girls are more mature but are also hormonal drama queens who cry about everything. It’s like navigating a minefield. You’ll do great.” Landry laughed all the way to his SUV.

The twenty minutes it took to get from the school to the boarding house and back wasn’t nearly enough time for Valentin to come to grips with this assignment.

In that short amount of time, the parking lot had filled with cars, trucks and people.

Out of parking spaces, Valentin pulled his truck into a grassy field adjacent to the parking lot and shifted into park. He didn’t much like crowds. The people streaming into the small school were more than enough to make him want to shift to drive, go to the marina and rent a boat to drive far out into the bayou.

Valentin sighed. He’d had to do a lot of things in his life that he hadn’t really wanted to do. This was no different. And the damaged classroom needed to be set to rights before the kids returned to school on Monday. They didn’t need to see the damning words spray-painted in red across the wall.

Another truck pulled up beside his. Beau Boyette pushed open the driver’s door and dropped to the ground. “Hey, Valentin, wanna give us a hand?”

“Sure,” he said and hurried over to grab the four cans of paint Beau handed him from the truck bed.

Beau retrieved four more cans of paint.

Lucas climbed out of the passenger seat carrying a box filled with paint brushes, roller trays, rolls of masking tape and clear plastic sheeting to use as a drop cloth.

“How many classrooms are you planning on painting?” Valentin asked.

Beau’s lips twisted into a wry grin. “I wasn’t sure how many coats it would take to cover bright red spray paint. Rather too much than too little. They want to finish today.”

Another truck parked beside Valentin’s. Gerard Guidry and Alan Broussard got out and gathered brooms, mops, dustpans and a tool bag from the truck bed.

Lucas fell in step beside Valentin. “Looks like we have more than enough help to make quick work of this job.”

“Too much, if you ask me,” Valentin groused.

Lucas laughed. “I hear you got tagged with the assignment.” The man shook his head. “I’m having a hard time imagining you as a PE teacher.” He tilted his head. “No. On second thought, I can see those teens doing pushups, sit-ups and running laps around you in no time.”

Valentin didn’t bother to rise to Lucas’s taunts.

When the men and woman standing near the door saw the men carrying supplies, they parted and let them through.

The two passed through the main entrance and turned left. A couple of men came out of the damaged classroom carrying a destroyed desk.

“I take it that’s the classroom we’ll be working in?” Lucas asked.

Valentin nodded. “That’s the one.”

Lucas peered into one of the classrooms as he passed. “Shouldn’t take too long if that room is anything like these.”

“They’re all pretty much the same size,” Valentin said.

They were two doors away when a loud crash was followed by screams emanating from the classroom where they were headed. Women and men scrambled through the doorway out to the hall.

“Oh my God,” one woman screeched. “Did you kill him? Please tell me you killed him.” She moved further down the hall, dancing nervously on her toes while staring down at the tiled floor.

The man beside her shook his head, his gaze also on the floor, his knees bent, ready to run. “I’m not touching him barehanded.”

“Don’t you have a gun?” the woman asked.

“Not on me,” the man said. “It’s out in my truck.”

“Well, don’t just stand there. Go get it,” the woman demanded. “Miz Mo is in there. She could be hurt.”

Valentin quickly set the paint cans on the floor and hurried to the open classroom door. He eased around the door frame and stared into the room.

Many of the desks had already been moved toward the center of the room. Glass from the broken window still littered the floor. The big whiteboard leaned against a wall behind the metal teacher’s desk. A pair of shoes poked out from one end of the whiteboard and suddenly disappeared.

“Give it up, Houdini,” a female voice said from behind the whiteboard. “Either you come with me, or someone is going to kill you,” she warned. Then softly, she said, “That’s it. Stay still. Just a few more inches… Gotcha!”

The big whiteboard shimmied and then fell with a loud crash, exposing the female behind it, her shapely ass in the air, elbows on the ground and something caught between her fingers. Whatever it was wiggled loose and escaped her grasp.

She lunged after it, missed, and it slid beneath ragged wads of poster paper and under the desk.

“Don’t just stand there,” the woman yelled, “catch him.” On her hands and knees, she scrambled toward the desk.

Valentin lunged across the room and dropped down on his knees in front of the desk. He lowered his head to peer beneath, only to find himself face-to-face with a snake. But not just any snake. This one reared up and spread its neck like a goddamn cobra.

“What the hell?” he uttered.

“Catch him,” the woman called out from the other side of the desk.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Valentin said, scooting back on the floor. “It’s a cobra.”

“Oh, for the love of—” The woman dove beneath the desk, snagged the snake by its tail and pulled it toward her.

“Careful, lady, it might bite you.” Valentin grabbed a nearby dustpan and shot to his feet. He held the dustpan like a shield and rounded the desk toward the woman.

She rose with her hand gripping the snake firmly, the creature’s body looped around her arm.

“Relax, Sir Galahad,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Cobras are not native to the United States. But Hognose Spreading Adders are.” She held up her arm with a snake. “Meet the classroom snake, Houdini, named for his innate ability to escape his living quarters.”

“You keep a snake in a classroom?” Valentin fought the urge to shiver. He could understand keeping a gerbil, a mouse or a bird in the classroom. But a snake?

The woman lifted her chin, her dark auburn hair bounced around her shoulders, and her green eyes flashed. “I want my students to understand that all snakes are not evil. For instance, the Hognose Spreading Adder is harmless.”

“Does he bite?” Valentin asked.

“Only in self-defense. The hognose would rather bluff his way out of a difficult situation by playing dead. He’ll roll over and expose his white belly, hoping his attacker will move on.” Her empty hand stroked the snake’s body.

Valentin did shiver this time.

She frowned. “Let me guess… You’re one of those people who consider the only good snake is a dead snake. Am I right?”

Valentin nodded. “You got that right.”

“That’s too bad,” she said. “I thought there might be hope for you when you didn’t run from the room like the rest of them.” She held Houdini out toward him. “Perhaps you just haven’t met the right snake. Maybe if you hold him for a minute, you’ll see snakes aren’t slimy as most people assume. They’re interesting.”

Valentin held up his hands. “You seemed to have a good hold on him. I would hate to fumble and have him escape again.”

The woman’s pretty lips twisted in a wry grin. “Perhaps you’re right. He’s already been traumatized enough. He had a little help with his escape this time when the vandal dropped the terrarium on the floor, shattering it into a million pieces. Houdini’s lucky he wasn’t severely injured. I’m just glad we found him. He’s lived most of his life in captivity and wouldn’t know what to do in the wild.” She faced the snake and smiled gently. “Isn't that right, sweetie? You have it pretty cushy here in my classroom.”

Valentin frowned. “Your classroom?”

Her dark red eyebrows winged upward. “That’s right. This is my classroom.” She glanced around, her mouth pressing into a tight line. When she turned back to him, she held out her empty hand. “I’m Ouida Mae Maudet, but the students all call me Miz Mo. And you are?”

“Stunned,” Valentin said without thinking, taking her hand in his. An electric shock zipped through his nervous system. “You’re the science teacher?”

She gave him a tight smile. “Guilty. Why? What did you expect?”

“Nothing,” he backpaddled quickly. “It’s just that you’re nothing like the science teacher I had in junior high.”

“Yeah, well, I am qualified to teach, or so it says on my diplomas.” She tilted her head. “You still haven’t told me who you are.” Her gaze went to where his hand still held hers. “And that’s my hand. I’d kind of like to have it back.”

“Sorry.” He immediately released her hand, and heat rose up his neck into his cheeks. “I’m the new...PE teacher, filling in for Miss Sutton.” He didn’t add and here to keep an eye on you and your students.

Staring down into her pretty green eyes, a part of him thought this assignment might not be as bad as he’d originally expected.

Keeping an eye on the pretty science teacher would be no problem at all.

Miz Mo cocked a challenging eyebrow. “How much experience do you have working with junior high students?”

Valentin held up his hands. “None. It’s all new territory for me.” He grimaced. “How hard could it be?”