Finders Keepers

Chapter 2

“Good morning,” Olivia said as she walked past a trio of teens loitering in the hallway. “TJ, please take that pick out of your hair. If you need to comb it, go to the restroom. The bell is going to ring in”—she glanced at the hall clock—“forty-five seconds. Do you know where you’re supposed to be?” She heard a chorus of falsely obedient responses behind her.

“Yes, ma’am.”

At the end of the corridor, Olivia had to stop short to avoid colliding with another youngster who ran across her path, his backpack bouncing awkwardly. “Sorry!” the youngster shouted, never breaking stride as he rushed through a hall doorway and started bounding up the stairs.

The bell for first class rang just as Olivia reached the open reception area outside her office. The rumble of shouts, laughter, and conversation eventually died out as the hallways went silent and empty, and several doors slammed shut on classes about to start.

“What’s up, Lori?” Olivia asked, stopping in front of her assistant’s desk.

Then she became distracted by the distinct fussing and whimpering of a baby. There was another small space next to Olivia’s office, an opening not far from Lori’s desk. It was a converted closet, brightly painted and stocked with a haphazard assortment of baby and toddler toys, clothing, and diapers, neatly stacked on makeshift shelves or in baskets on the floor. There were also two cribs catty-corner to one another. Outside the entrance was a stroller with a baby, about six or seven months old, squirming in the curved support. Olivia had noted many times in the past several weeks that the child was growing too big for the current carriage. She made a mental note to investigate how she might help the baby’s mother, one of her students, get a new one.

She bent to lift the baby into her arms, her right hand gently patting the child’s back. “Where’s Taryn?”

“She left Gaye here and ran off, saying she was going to be late for a test. I’m keeping an eye on the baby.”

Olivia swayed gently side to side, and the child quieted. “I’ll have to come up with another arrangement. It’s not your responsibility to act as babysitter.”

“I don’t mind,” Lori said under her breath as she worked at her keyboard.

“I do. The district office is not happy with me insisting that something needs to be done to help teen moms with childcare so they can stay in school.”

The baby continued to whimper a little but not actually cry, and Olivia swayed side to side, carefully bouncing the little girl to soothe her. “I don’t want Taryn to miss that test. She’s a senior and she has to keep her schoolwork on track if she expects to graduate. What else?”

Lori responded to the light blinking indicating an incoming call on her desk phone. “Harvest Prep, please hold.” She pushed a button and gave her attention back to Olivia. “A reminder that you have an appointment in about twenty minutes.”

Olivia frowned, taking a chubby hand and kissing the fingers before the baby could grab her chain necklace. She continued to pace in a semicircle as Gaye now became distracted by Olivia’s gold hoop earring. “Oh. Right. Someone from the local FBI field office.”

Lori stared at her with a worried frown. “The FBI? What’s going on?”

“I’ll give you the short version later. I’m going to check with Mrs. Shih. She’s complaining about Colby’s brother showing up again whenever he feels like.”

“Mmmm,” Lori crooned with a knowing grimace. “Looking for trouble. We can’t seem to keep him out of the building. He’s not enrolled here. I don’t know why he keeps coming around.”

Olivia smiled at the cooing baby. “I suspect that Curtis is trying to turn his brother, recruit him for his crew. He’s older, so I know he’s probably pressuring Colby.”

“You think Colby is interested? Or just afraid of his brother.”

“I don’t know. I’m inclined to say he’s definitely intimidated,” Olivia said. “Colby is not like his brother. I think that’s the problem. I’ll take a quick look into the classroom, see if Colby is there. Maybe I also need to speak with the district chair about locking some of the doors after school begins. Try to make it a little harder for just anyone to walk in.”

“They’re gonna say no,” Lori responded laconically, reconnecting to the call she’d placed on hold. “They’ll use the old but-what-if-there’s-an-emergency excuse… Thanks for waiting. Can I help you?”

“I’ll think of something,” Olivia murmured, and headed for the stairwell and the walk up to the second floor, Gaye in her arms.

Mrs. Shih, the math teacher, had already begun her lessons. The eleven students in the class were opening workbooks, writing in notebooks, and otherwise paying attention. Peering through the wired glass door window, Olivia saw no sign of Curtis, the troubled high school dropout who couldn’t seem to accept that his younger brother really wanted to stay in school. Olivia was relieved to see that Colby was attentively watching the equation Mrs. Shih was writing on the board.

Olivia watched for another moment and then made her way back to her office. This was one of her favorite times of the school day—early morning, just after all classes had begun. The high school students all seemed to be where they were supposed to be. Another promising start to the first month of school in the hopes that the rest of the semester would continue as smoothly. Nothing was guaranteed in the community of Harvest Prep, a kind of safe haven for students who struggled with family dysfunction compounded by the dramas and angst of just being teenagers. So far, the students at Harvest seemed earnestly committed to learning. But it was early yet, and it was never easy. Most of them had a lot of challenges to overcome.

Olivia approached Lori’s desk and found the assistant watching her, giving her a nonverbal signal. Olivia missed the cue, however, instead drawn to someone standing at the corner of the corridor, his eyes trained on her. He stood staring, tall and erect, a white man who seemed inordinately alert and focused on her. Olivia met his gaze and experienced a sudden and profound physical reaction to his presence that left her momentarily dazed. It gripped her stomach, tightened her throat, and totally caught her off guard. Olivia’s steps faltered.

The sensation was quickly gone but left her not only unsettled but acutely aware of the stranger waiting in front of Lori’s workspace. He was dressed in dark business slacks and a white, short-sleeve shirt. He wore a tie. His presence was very official and very serious. She observed his square-jawed handsomeness, his sculptured lips, and his close-set eyes. His gaze was sharp, focused, and startling. No smile, no open greeting. His gaze was steady, and Olivia realized he was studying her with equal awareness. When she was within ten feet, Olivia stopped and faced off with him.

Their gazes met and held. It was only seconds of a silent encounter but seemed so much longer to her. Olivia became aware that she was holding on to Gaye like the baby was a tiny lifeline.

She couldn’t seem to formulate a coherent thought, let alone speak.

Olivia recovered, but with a dizzying sense that her world had shifted. Her sense of certainty and even safety were no longer fixed points in her existence. She thought it was almost like what had happened several years earlier that had also rocked her life so completely, so profoundly…but this moment was without the pain and loss of that earlier time. This moment had an odd sense of predetermination. Destiny might not have been exactly what she was thinking, but it was close.

“Olivia, this is Special Agent Sloan Kendrick.” Lori made the professional introduction.

Only Olivia could hear and interpret the curiosity in Lori’s introduction. But she, herself, was left to deal with the intent perusal of the agent’s eyes. Still. Not blinking. Holding her gaze. But it was not really the look of someone in a professional capacity who was sizing her up. She glanced away first, using Gaye’s animated wiggling and busy hands as a distraction. Olivia tightened her hold on the child.

Lori was speaking. The man was speaking. Strange, guttural voice. Rough and scratchy. He acknowledged her with a brief nod of his head. Lori stood glancing from him to her, waiting for Olivia to say something.

Then the phone rang again, and Olivia exhaled. Her head cleared. She gave Agent Kendrick a calm but careful welcome.

“I’m Olivia Cameron. Sorry I kept you waiting.”

The quiet and self-assured intro from Olivia Cameron immediately held his attention. It happened instantly. In just seconds, Sloan Kendrick recognized why. But he let his purpose and his long experience take over. Any other consideration didn’t make any sense.

She was, in that quick instance, as totally focused on him as he was on her. Her dark gaze inquisitive, even startled. They were both engaged in intense examination, and Sloan made no attempt to end it. To acknowledge her greeting and get on with it. Like a warning of some kind, he was put on high alert with a profound physical awareness. Her mouth was full and expressive and, he was surprised, had the barest of smiles hovering at the corners. It was her smile that really grabbed his attention. It was sensual and fixed and very…warm. Sloan knew beyond a doubt that it was a natural feature and not forced or false. It very likely came with who Olivia Cameron was.

The presence of the child caught him off guard as well. Had she brought her baby to work that day?

His research to date did not indicate that Olivia Cameron had a child.

“Morning,” Sloan finally responded, his voice low and textured. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“I was expecting you,” she responded. Her arms circled around the child, holding the little girl protectively. Maternally.

He realized he was staring because her slight smile, that natural curve at the corners of her mouth seemed genuine. He didn’t return Olivia’s expression, not allowing himself to be drawn in by the welcome. Still, was it possible subterfuge or coyness? Nervousness? Olivia Cameron had a compelling presence. He had to remind himself not to put his investigative process aside despite this surprising interest in her that had no place in his job right now—or anytime.

She continued studying him, smiling that little smile as she approached to stand right in front of him. He didn’t move, holding his ground.

“Gun,” Olivia said quietly.

He understood immediately. “Ankle.”

Satisfied with his answer she turned to enter her office.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I had to take care of something.”

“No problem,” Sloan said. She’d taken control of the situation by speaking first. It gave him time to recover, and he was aware that he needed that.

In one brief, sweeping glance, he took in the details of the small office. A desk with several messy stacks of files and papers. A mug half-filled with cold coffee. A cell phone and a box of Kleenex on a corner. A set of keys. “I can see you have your hands full. No pun intended,” he said with a straight face.

She chuckled quietly but didn’t take a seat at the desk. Once inside the small space, Olivia Cameron stopped and faced him. She took another silent moment as if to confirm a thought or an impression of him. Maybe something about what he’d said caught her attention, or his appearance. He wasn’t used to the kind of silence that they kept falling into. Did she not remember why he had come?

“Please sit down,” Olivia instructed, vaguely indicating a chair. She finally went around behind her desk, pulled open a drawer, and, bending somewhat awkwardly, began rummaging around the contents. After selecting several very small objects, she pushed the drawer shut with her knee.

Sloan watched her actions but was frankly completely baffled as to what Olivia Cameron was doing.

“It gets a bit crazy around here. It’s a new school year, and it takes a while for life to settle down, especially with teens.”

“Okay,” Sloan responded noncommittally. She was nervous. Was there a reason for her to be? “Officer Anderson said first thing in the morning was probably the best time to catch you.” She continued her study of him, her gaze giving her the appearance of youthful openness and curiosity. Gary Anderson was right—Olivia Cameron was attractive. “He’s the officer from the LAPD who interviewed you after your discovery.”

“Yes. I remember. I didn’t expect it would take so long for someone to call me again.”

“You mean about the money or being interviewed again?”

“Yes,” Olivia responded simply.

He felt himself wanting to smile at her quickness but pursed his lips instead. “Your discovery got turned over to my agency because of the amount of money involved, why so much was hidden in an old house, and who might have put it there.”

Sloan couldn’t tell if Olivia was actually listening. The baby chattered away nonsensically, her contribution a comical interruption in the conversation. Sloan knew it was up to him to lay everything out. “Mrs. Cameron, I’m not going to ask the same line of questions the police used when they spoke with you. There’s other information that I—”

“’Scuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt,” the assistant said from the office doorway. “Did you forget about your class? It’s Wednesday.”

Olivia started, easily adjusting the weight of the wiggling baby in her arms. “Oh. Right. Almost forgot, and I’m late.”

“Why don’t I…” Lori began, reaching for the child as her phone began to light up again. “Gimme a sec.” She disappeared back to her desk.

Olivia was again in motion; coming around the edge of her desk, she held out her hand to him. Automatically Sloan put his hand out to take her offering. It was what Olivia had taken from her desk drawer. He briefly examined the items, three wrapped candies, and dropped them into his pocket.

“Look, maybe we should…”

Then Olivia suddenly handed off the baby girl. Sloan had no time to make an alternative decision before accepting the child.

“Wait… I don’t…” he started.

Olivia was already out the office door. “I’ll only be fifteen minutes,” she promised over her shoulder, disappearing down a hallway.

Sloan was nonplussed, bemused, and mildly annoyed by what had happened. He’d lost control of the moment while recognizing that he never had control to begin with. He could hear the assistant in conversation on the phone…with a parent, given her placating tone and reference to a student. Sloan focused his attention back on the child in his arms, a very small human specimen with a brown face, dark button eyes, and sparse, soft black curls all over her head. The hair was parted into two small bunches of curls, each fastened just over the ears with plastic hair barrettes shaped like butterflies.

Sloan shifted her against his chest to hold her more securely, to make her more comfortable. She stopped moving, noticing him. She stared from her bright eyes as if he was a curiosity. He thought at once, she’d probably never been held by a white man before, probably had never been even close and had no reference for someone like him. She showed no fear and stared up at Sloan wide-eyed, mouth open…and drooling. The baby uttered something, pointing a tiny finger at him…and attempting to hook her finger into his mouth. He shifted again, discouraging further exploration and using the damp yellow bib tied around her neck to wipe her mouth. She laughed and bounced against his chest as if that was funny.

Sloan didn’t smile back at her but examined the child in fascination. He’d never held a child this small, this…new. And he had another thought that made him equally curious.

He left the office, slipping past the assistant without her noting that he was going elsewhere in the building, the baby in his arms. He only guessed that Olivia could not have gone that far; the charter school building was not that big, only three stories high with narrow frontage. Sloan walked along the corridor on one side, peeking quickly into each room in search of Olivia. He got to the end and crossed over to the other side of the corridor to head back to the front. Two rooms along the path, he spotted Olivia. Sloan found her seated on a chair facing about twenty students who were all seated crossed-legged on the floor in front of her. They were perfectly still, silent, eyes closed. Their hands were resting on their knees, palms up. Sloan recognized, in some surprised, that Olivia was conducting a guided meditation session. Her eyes were also closed, hands on her knees like her students. Then she stopped talking and, along with the students, continued in seated silence. After another moment he returned, again unnoticed, to the school director’s office deep in thought, trying to process the scene he’d witnessed, but only because the nature of the class was unexpected and seeing Olivia Cameron as the instructor raised even more questions about the kind of teacher…person and woman…she was.

The kind of class she was conducting was also an eye-opener. Meditation? For a high school class? But he knew, from personal experience, about meditation. And seeing Olivia Cameron so confidently conducting a session surprised him; she obviously had experience with the mindfulness technique as well. He wondered how and why.

Sloan’s confusion over the course of events since being introduced to the charter school director was replaced with a new level of curiosity that had nothing to do with his purpose at the school but solely with Olivia. Continuing to act as reluctant babysitter, he nevertheless accepted the situation, slowly pacing around Olivia’s office, holding the baby and feeling the warmth and softness of her against him. Mentally, he scrapped a lot of the questions he might have asked Olivia if he’d never had a baby thrust into his care or witnessed Olivia conducting a class meant to calm and center the kids seated in front of her.

Over the baby’s head, as she waved her arms about and continued to chatter, Sloan looked around the office. A teacher’s office with an odd assortment of items—clothing, books, things the students should not have brought to school—taking up space on the floor, the top of a bookcase, the windowsill. There was nothing really personal here, no photographs on Olivia’s desk or pinned to the bulletin board against the wall. Her tote was next to the desk on the floor, a pair of basic black pumps discarded under the chair where he’d been told to sit. There was nothing that told Sloan anything about Olivia to fill in the kind of person she might be or her background. He was even more intrigued.

The time he spent waiting for her no longer seemed terribly important. So when Olivia calmly reentered the office, he was almost surprised to see her back so soon. She vaguely smiled what he took to be an apology for the presumption of leaving him with an infant and reached to take the child out of his arms. Sloan surprised himself, gently turning away from Olivia’s outstretched hands.

“I’ve got her.”

Olivia raised her brows and gave in, not making an issue of the situation that was already strange by anyone’s imagination.

“You know, you should probably be home.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, confused.

“There are a lot of kids in the building. I’m not absolutely sure how many have been vaccinated since COVID, how many have lied about being vaccinated. Have you had COVID? Are you vaccinated?”

Sloan didn’t have a chance to answer as Olivia stood right in front of him. He had the distinct impression she was about to lecture him. Except there was an exclamation from the doorway as a cute and overweight young teen hurried into the office to forcefully sweep the baby out of his arms.

“Gimme my child,” the young girl confronted Sloan, snatching the baby and startling her. The baby began to whine.

“Taryn, it’s okay.” Olivia touched the teen on her arm. “This is not an abduction. Mr. Kendrick is here to see me.”

“I thought I was helping,” Sloan said smoothly.

“I asked him to,” Olivia added, her tone indicating it was not an issue.

Taryn glared at him suspiciously. “You can’t touch my baby.”

“You’re right. I apologize. What’s her name?”

“Gaye,” Taryn muttered, trying to soothe the fussing child.

“She was no trouble. As Mrs. Cameron said, your daughter was safe with me. Cute kid.”

Taryn fell silent, not having an adequate response. She glanced at Olivia.

“It was my fault, but there was no time to find you and ask your permission. I’d forgotten about the meditation class, and I asked Mr. Kendrick to step in for me to watch Gaye. Too much going on this morning. How did the test go?”

Taryn was bouncing her daughter. “Aced it,” she said confidently, kissing her baby’s cheek. “Thanks,” she muttered reluctantly to Sloan. Then she pivoted and left the office.

Left alone together, Olivia faced him, and Sloan experienced again that moment after they’d first met that had left him a little disoriented. Almost light-headed. He blinked and took a deep breath, as if to clear his head.

“Is every day like this?” he asked.

“The start of the week is mostly okay. By Friday…”

He nodded. “TGIF sets in.”

“Correct.”

“Olivia?” Lori called from the outer office.

Olivia gave Sloan another apologetic glance and left her office to answer the summons. Sloan slowly trailed behind her, his mind doing switchbacks from what he’d been told, what he thought, and what a mere hour in the company of Olivia Cameron had shown about her. But all of it would have to take a back seat to a protocol he had to follow, and he couldn’t cut corners.

When he reached the corridor, he found a small gathering of teens facing him, as if they’d been standing around discussing his presence. Their acute defense mechanisms had already ID’d him. Sloan quietly scanned the group and assessed that there was only mild suspicion, teen boldness, and curiosity they were going to satisfy.

“You’re a cop,” one of the boys, a short, chubby youngster in a too-tight school shirt, addressed Sloan. It was an accusatory statement.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah you are. Detective, right?” another boy asked.

“No…I’m not,” Sloan quietly repeated, his voice low and rough but not ominous.

“Tee thought you was going to cop her kid,” a female student offered.

There was a tittering of knowing laughter.

“What’s wrong with your voice?” a tall youngster with glasses asked.

“Nothing,” Sloan said simply.

“You sound like a bad car engine,” the short, pudgy kid suggested.

Sloan kept his demeanor blank, his attention on the inquisitive students. “Laryngitis.”

“You hiding your gun? Where is it?”

“You don’t need to know that,” Olivia said, joining the hallway gathering.

She came to stand next to him, and Sloan raised his brows, knowing that Olivia was protecting him from the inquisitive students. He didn’t find their posturing hostile. Just pushy and insolent. Typical teens.

“You getting arrested?” the girl asked Olivia. There was no laughter this time as they waited for a response.

Olivia glanced at him, and her calm smile of assurance told him how far he could go. “Not today.”

The teens, left without a real answer, exchanged knowing smirks but also seemed to have decided that he was not a threat, or at least not the kind of white man they were used to dealing with.

“Man, we thought he’s gonna perp walk you in handcuffs,” chortled one of the teens, addressing Olivia. It set the others off laughing.

“All right, the halftime show is over,” Olivia said, clapping her hands a few times. “Please get to your next classes.”

“Is he going to work here?” someone in the group asked as they began to shuffle away.

Sloan shook his head. “I have a job.”

He watched the kids split up as a bell pealed throughout the building. A few of his audience dashed through a door into a stairwell to head up to the next floor. Their interest in him had waned with their attention span.

No sooner had Sloan turned to make a comment to Olivia than he saw her attention was drawn to a lone young man, obviously not a student, who she purposefully approached. Sloan stood watching this new encounter, sensing it was different because the man clearly wasn’t supposed to be there. Sloan’s attention was drawn not because he thought anything would actually happen but because he was curious how Olivia Cameron was going to handle a situation Sloan perceived was not school related. He did, however, sense that there was a potential for trouble.

Sloan could not hear the actual conversation, but body language spoke volumes. The young man, maybe early twenties, was good-looking with a cocky posture that was universal, in his observations, among young men of a certain age who demonstrated more insecurity than they realized. He was dressed for the street. His clothing and demeanor spoke of someone used to being quick and clever, getting over and smooth talking his way into and out of dark circumstances. He would be the kind of person who covertly carried a weapon…a knife possibly, but certainly a gun. He had both of his hands in his pockets, making Sloan all the more suspicious, but he guessed that the young man was not likely to start anything violent with the school’s director. He sensed that he had been on the premises before. Maybe multiple times and took his own trespassing for granted. Whatever his reason was for being in the school building, it was not to hurt anyone. At the moment he was drawing too much attention for that to make sense. Too easy to identify him.

Olivia calmly faced off with the unwelcome visitor, who Sloan felt was not unknown to her. As she spoke, the young man stood shifting from foot to foot and looking covertly around now and then, shrugging, shaking his head, and giving the impression that he could care less about anything Olivia had to say to him. When he did respond to her, his tone was not so much arrogant as indifferent and impatient. He was not backing down from the quiet confrontation but challenging her.

Sloan changed his position, facing directly down the corridor to where Olivia and the man squared off. He knew she probably didn’t need the backup, but that was exactly what he was doing. He stared at the younger man, deliberately wanting his presence to be known. The quiet, covert glances from him let Sloan know the message was received. He slowly took one step forward and stopped, noting everything about the physicality of the young man.

Olivia gestured with her arm and hand. Sloan interpreted the meaning.

What are you doing here? You have to leave.

She tilted her head and leaned in a little closer to the young man. He abruptly turned away and headed to the exit. He pushed his way out with a noisy thrust against the door’s horizontal release and slipped out as the door swung closed. Olivia stood for a moment staring at the closed door before turning to retrace her steps to him. Sloan was quick to notice that there was not even a hint of the brief but tense encounter expressed on Olivia’s face. By the time she reached him, she was composed. Sloan was drawn in by her curious smile and the way the movement filled out her cheeks. Her dark eyes calmly met his gaze. But he somehow knew that Olivia was not as calm as she appeared.

“Wednesday morning at Harvest,” she murmured.

“Really? If I might say so, I don’t think he’s your normal academic visitor.” She said nothing to his comment. “I’d like to make a suggestion,” Sloan began. “I don’t think it’s possible to have a discussion let alone an interview here. Too many interruptions and distractions. You’ve put out a lot of fires in the time I’ve been here.”

“That’s an interesting way of seeing things.”

“Sorry. The point is, we’ll have to set up another appointment. At a different venue. I’d like you to come to the local field office.” She was already nodding, perhaps realizing that it was the smart thing to do. “You have a lot of responsibility here, and your students are used to getting your attention when they need it. You’re used to giving it to them. That’s not a criticism, by the way.”

Olivia nodded again. “What do you suggest?”

“Tomorrow.”

She raised her brows, surprised. “Tomorrow? So soon?”

“Soon would have been today. Any day, Monday through Friday, is going to be a problem for you. So let’s just do this. Tomorrow.”

Olivia sighed, averting her gaze as she obviously began thinking through all the reasons for saying no. But Sloan, reading her mind, forestalled any she might offer.

“Come during your lunch hour. That’s probably the easiest time of the day for you to get away. You take a break for lunch, don’t you?”

“Well…”

He casually stepped around Olivia, signaling that he was about to leave. He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a business card, handing it to her. “Let’s make it one o’clock. Your students will be back at their first afternoon class by then. I’ll make sure you can get back here before the school day ends. Will that work?”

Olivia stared down at the card, as if she needed the time to think, to take back control of their meeting, but Sloan was not about to give her the chance.

“It won’t take long, Mrs. Cameron. Officer Anderson has already done much of the preliminary background check. Tomorrow you can tell me all about finding the money.”

Olivia brought her gaze sharply back to him. He watched her become the person in charge again. He was, after all, on her turf. That made him want to smile, but he hid it behind the tightening of his jaw.

“I did turn the money in, you know.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sloan said, taking a few steps backward, away from her. “I’d still like to ask why you made that decision. See you tomorrow. One p.m., my office.”

Sloan’s exit was significantly quieter than that of the young man who’d left only moments before.

He wanted Olivia Cameron to remember that. Sloan felt no need to be forceful or to intimidate her. He did not want to be Olivia’s enemy.