CHAPTER NINE
Lucia finished pinning some artwork to the bulletin board and looked up at the clock, surprised to see that it was only twenty minutes after ten.
Time was moving so slowly, and her mind continually wandered back to everything that had happened.
Including the sleepless night she’d spent talking herself out of sneaking down the hall and crawling into bed with Eddie.
Her classroom was quiet right now, because the kids were reading books they’d selected during their library time earlier.
She rolled her chair back from the desk, and her butt had just hit the seat when a loud alarm blared from the speakers at the front and back of the room.
The lockdown alarm.
The kids looked at each other and then to her for direction.
“Everyone to the back of the room.” Her training kicked in, and she quietly guided them to the corner farthest from the door.
She moved both of her hands in a downward motion, and the kids sat close together on the floor, either crossed-legged or on their knees.
No way this was a drill—they’d just had one last week. Lucia jumped into action and executed the safety protocols.
She rushed over to the door, clicked the deadbolt into place, and shoved the wedge under the door.
She pulled the shade down over the narrow rectangular window and flipped off the lights.
As she closed the blinds over the large classroom windows, she scanned the area at the front of the school where the bus loop was located but saw nothing.
“You guys all know what to do, right?” They’d practiced this so many times, it had almost become habit.
Their eyes were huge, and they all nodded their heads really fast.
“Excellent,” she whispered and held a finger to her lips to remind them to be silent.
The alarm continued to blare. A couple of kids held hands over their ears with their eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Lucia couldn’t imagine how scared Isabella must be right now.
She couldn’t even comfort her own class because it was more important that she focus her attention to the possible points of entry into the classroom.
Her gaze rose to the clock again. She gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth.
Isabella’s class had morning recess that started at ten fifteen. Her daughter wasn’t safely tucked away in her classroom. She was out on the playground.
How could she have forgotten that?
POP! POP!
Lucia flinched and recognized the muffled sounds as gunshots, then there was a second of silence before—
POP!
She hurried back to the kids. They huddled behind her, and some began to cry for their mommies or daddies. One little girl actually started sucking her thumb.
It was absolutely heartbreaking.
Outwardly, Lucia appeared calm, yet every instinct she possessed was telling her to get the hell out of there and find her daughter.
But she had a group of terrified children depending on her.
She had to trust that Isabella’s teacher and Deputy Torres would watch over her daughter and her daughter’s classmates.
Lucia did something she hadn’t done in years—she prayed. For her daughter, for all of the scared children, for her colleagues huddled in their own classrooms and offices, and for Deputy Torres, who would not hesitate to place himself in harm’s way to protect all of them.
The alarm went silent, but protocol was that they remain in place until they were given the all clear.
What seemed like an eternity later, someone knocked on her door.
A couple of children cried out and were shushed by their classmates.
“Stay here and stay down.” Lucia stood and slowly approached the door.
Her ears were ringing, and her heartbeat hammered against her chest to the point of being painful.
She was careful not to stand directly in front of the door, just in case someone tried to take a shot.
She flattened her back against the wall next to the door, but with the window covered, she had no way of knowing who might be on the other side.
“Lucia, it’s Matt.” She recognized the vice principal’s voice.
She lifted the edge of the shade just enough to peek out and confirm it was him. Relief swamped her, and she blew out a long breath. Her hands shook so badly, it took three tries to get the door unlocked, then she yanked it open.
Matt remained in the hallway. “The threat has been neutralized, but—”
Her daughter’s teacher ran toward them, her pretty silk scarf fluttering over her shoulder, and she stopped next to the vice principal.
Strands of her salt-and-pepper gray hair hung over her face, having come loose from her usual ponytail.
Her right knee was scraped up, and blood ran down her shin.
She also had blood on the front of her shirt.
“Oh, my gosh, Connie,” Lucia said. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“Did he tell you?” A tear streamed down Connie’s cheek.
“Tell me what?” She looked back and forth between them.
“Deputy Torres was shot.” Matt made sure to keep his voice low enough that the kids couldn’t hear him.
Oh, God.
“Where’s Isabella? Where’s my daughter?” Lucia was barely able to keep herself from screaming at the top of her lungs.
“Isabella is fine. I’m so sorry. I should’ve … I should’ve led with that.” Connie was having a difficult time catching her breath. “She’s … she’s in Deputy Torres’s office with Imelda.”
“Thank God.” Lucia glanced skyward. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.” Connie patted her arm.
Imelda was an admin assistant who worked in the front office. She was the first person you’d meet upon entering the school, and she was a pit bull when it came to guarding the main doors.
“I’m going to gather the rest of my class from the kitchen.
They’re locked in there with Mrs. Grundy and her kitchen staff.
” Connie glanced down and noticed blood on her scarf.
“Shoot,” she whispered and quickly dragged it off her neck.
She balled it up and dropped it in a nearby garbage can.
“I’m going to bring them back to the classroom so they can gather their things. ”
Lucia chewed her lip and looked back at her students.
“Go.” Matt put a hand on each of her shoulders, turned her, and gently nudged her toward the hallway. “I’ll stay with your kids.”
And they were her kids.
“Thank you.” She moved back into the room and looked at her students. “Mr. Pickton is going to stay with you, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.” She started to leave, stopped, and turned back to her class. “You guys did so great. I am so proud of all of you.”
They all popped up from where they were hunkered together at the back of the room, rushed over to her, and surrounded her in one big group hug.
“Okay, guys. We need to let Ms. Santos go.” Matt stepped in. “She needs to go get her daughter.”
The children said their goodbyes, and she left her room. Behind her, she heard the vice principal.
“Okay, guys,” he said. “Go ahead and grab your backpacks and lunch boxes, then line up in front of me. You get to go home early today.”
Crying and sniffling were replaced by cheers.
The resiliency of children was a remarkable thing.
Lucia ran as fast as she could toward the front of the school, where the deputy’s office was located. As she passed a set of windows, she caught a glimpse of flashing lights from police cars and other emergency vehicles speeding toward the school, including an ambulance.
She grabbed the doorknob, jiggled it, but it was locked.
“It’s Lucia Santos.” Frantic to get to her daughter, she pounded on the door with the butt of her fist. “Isabella’s my daughter!”
A lock clicked, and Imelda swung open the door.
“Hi, Lucia. We have her hidden back here.” She led her down a small hallway and stopped at a door with a sign that read STORAGE ROOM. “She’s pretty scared, but otherwise, she’s okay.”
The admin opened the door, and Lucia’s heart shattered at what she saw.
Her little girl was sitting on the floor in a far corner of the small room, trying to hide behind a stack of boxes. Her face was tucked against her knees, which were drawn up to her chest with her arms wrapped around them. Her pink-and-purple sparkly tennis shoes were splattered with dark red.
Lucia approached her slowly, not wanting to scare her further.
“Sweetie, it’s Mommy.” She knelt down close to her and placed her hand on her little shoulder.
Isabella lifted her head.
“Mommy.” Her chin quivered, and she crawled onto her lap and started sobbing.
Lucia plopped onto her butt on the floor, and her daughter wrapped her arms around her neck and tightened her hold. She gently rocked her precious child side to side, holding her as she wept and babbled words she couldn’t understand.
“Sh-sh-sh.” She smoothed her hand up and down Isabella’s back until she slowly began to run out of steam.
Isabella lifted her tearstained face, and a string of words just tumbled from her lips in one long sentence.
“A bad man tried to take me, and Deputy Torres shot him, and then the bad man dropped me but grabbed my shirt and wouldn’t let go, then he shot back at Deputy Torres and made him fall down.
I was so scared, but I kicked the bad man in his pee-pee, and he screamed and let go of me, then I ran away, but Deputy Torres didn’t run away.
He just stayed on the ground.” She finally took a breath and lifted her head from Lucia’s chest and noticed her feet.
“Oh, no. Mommy. My new shoes got something on them.”
“We’ll buy you another pair, honey.” Lucia would not tell her daughter that it was blood.
Now that she knew her daughter was safe, she wanted—needed—to talk to Eddie. Now was not the time to question why he was her first thought.
She yanked her phone from her back pocket, scrolled to his number, and tapped the screen.
It rang three times before he answered.
“Hey, Lucia. What’s—”
“A man tried to take Isabella from the playground.” Adrenaline coursed through her body, and her emotions chose that moment to kick in, but she forced herself to keep it together.
“She’s traumatized, but physically, she’s okay.
” She gently pressed the side of her daughter’s head to her chest and placed her hand over the exposed ear.
“Eddie,” she whispered, “he shot Deputy Torres.”
“Son of a bitch.” Eddie clenched his fist. “We’re on our way.”
“What?” Cole asked.
“Someone tried to grab Isabella off the playground.” He never should’ve agreed to let them go to school.
Cole’s big boot stomped on the gas, and the SUV lurched forward and sped down the street.
Eddie’s phone rang. Mark’s name appeared on the screen.
“Hey, Mark. Lucia just called me,” he said. “Cole and I are on our way to the school now.”
“I’ll meet you there.” His old friend ended the call.
Eddie turned to Cole. “Munoz is a dead man, and I am going to destroy his entire organization.”
“We are going to destroy his organization.” Cole gave him one of those piercing looks of his before turning his attention back to the road. “You’re not alone in this thing, Eddie.”
His words were a solid reminder that he was no longer a lone wolf, surviving by his wits while slipping between darkness and light, between what was real and what wasn’t.
Eddie was part of a team now—a team that worked together to bring down the bad guys.
And Rodrigo Munoz was definitely one of the bad guys.