Chapter Ten #2
“Four? Who’s doing the extra afternoon tour?” He and Dalton and an older man named Clayton were the regular tour drivers.
“Your father is going to take them up.”
“Dad?” His father was a good mechanic, but not the most garrulous person in the world. “He knows he has to talk to people, doesn’t he?”
“Your father can talk plenty when he needs to.”
“You should send Bethany with him.” He looked around. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Ian needed her at the via ferrata. They’ve got a big group coming in. I can handle the front desk by myself.”
He folded the note, replaced it in the envelope and tucked it in his pocket. “What are you going to do with that?” his mother asked.
“I’ll give it to the sheriff to add to his collection.”
“I would think the sheriff would have better things to focus on than a bunch of petty letters sent by a busybody.”
“Sure. He could come narrate the afternoon tour,” Carter said.
His mother sent him a look that told him she had no time for his foolishness. “Get to work,” she said, and left the room.
The Eagle Mountain school boosters’ annual barbecue was held in the gymnasium, from noon until three o’clock, with grills set up in the back parking lot and tables loaded with potato salad, cole slaw, two kinds of beans and a variety of other sides set up in front of the home bleachers.
Volunteers dished up bowls of homemade ice cream beneath the basketball net at the north end of the gym while cheerleaders mingled with the crowd and sold raffle tickets for items donated by businesses in the community.
Mira, in a red-and-blue sundress—the Eagle Mountain Raptors colors—cradled a plastic cup of sweating lemonade and watched as Shayla, in a blue sheath that showed off her curves, smiled up at Mitch Anders.
Mitch, in a red Raptors polo and black track pants, nodded at something she was saying, his freshly shaven jaw sharp as a chiseled statue.
Mira’s attention shifted to the ice cream servers. Shayla’s mother was dishing up chocolate cones to a trio of elementary school–age girls. If she had seen her daughter with Mitch, she wasn’t paying any attention now.
Mira studied the rest of the room. She recognized many of the people here—parents, other teachers and business owners who had contributed to the raffle.
The sheriff was here, too, with his wife, who Mira had learned was an elementary school teacher. They each carried a child on their hip—boy and girl twins who looked to be about two. The sheriff wore his khaki uniform, neatly pressed as ever.
No one had asked her about the message left on her classroom whiteboard.
Either word hadn’t spread, or people were more interested in other things.
Either way, Mira was happy to not have to talk about it.
She hadn’t even told Shayla, and her friend was clearly too interested in other things at the moment.
Shayla and Mitch moved toward her. “Mira, I want you to meet my mom,” Shayla said. She looked up at Mitch. “Come with us and you can meet her, too.”
As they approached, Shayla’s mom looked up and beamed.
She was a little shorter and a little heavier than her daughter, but had the same smooth brown skin and smattering of freckles across her cheeks.
Her natural hair was cut close, and she wore large gold hoops and a cream-colored jumpsuit.
“Mom, I have some friends I’d like you to meet,” Shayla said.
She touched Mira’s shoulder. “This is Mira Veronica. And this is Mitch Anders.” She didn’t touch Mitch, but her smile broadened slightly as she grinned at him.
“Mira and Mitch, this is my mom, Andrea Green.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Mrs. Green wiped her fingers on a towel and shook hands.
“Thank you for working so hard to help put this together, Mrs. Green,” Mitch said. “I know it’s a big help to the school.”
“Oh, it’s a labor of love,” she said. “Are you both teachers?”
“They are,” Shayla said. “Wonderful teachers. We’re lucky to have them on staff.”
Mrs. Green turned to Mira. “What do you teach?”
“Spanish,” Mira said.
“Oh, hablo espanol un peux. Una lengua mas bonita.”
“Si,” Mira said, holding back her amusement. “It is a beautiful language.” And so was French, which Mrs. Green apparently spoke un peu.
Mrs. Green turned to Mitch. “And what about you, Mr. Anders?”
“I coach track and basketball, and teach technology.”
Mrs. Green looked him up and down. “I should have guessed.”
Shayla frowned, but said nothing. A couple walked up and asked for ice cream. “We’ll let you get back to work, Mom,” she said.
“It was nice meeting you,” Mitch said, and Mira echoed the sentiment. Shayla led them away.
“Your mom seems very nice,” Mitch said.
“I don’t know what she meant, saying she should have known you’re a coach.”
“Probably by the way I’m dressed.” He patted her shoulder. “I wasn’t offended.”
She looked up at him. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to a movie with me this afternoon,” she said. “We could leave the barbecue a little early and catch a showing in Junction.”
“I’d like that,” he said.
They were staring into each other’s eyes, oblivious to everyone around them, when Mira slipped away.
She was halfway across the room when two khaki-clad deputies entered the room.
One of them was Carter’s brother Aaron. She waved to him, but he didn’t acknowledge the greeting, his expression grim.
He and his fellow deputy scanned the crowd until they spotted the sheriff and made their way to him.
He handed off his baby girl to his wife and moved a short distance away to confer with them.
Then the three of them moved toward the silent auction table.
They passed up the items available for bids and stopped in front of Shayla and Mitch. Seconds later, Mira stared, horrified, as they placed handcuffs on Mitch and led him away.
Mira pushed through the crowd, the hum of conversation rising around her.
When she reached Shayla, her friend was holding back tears, her face ashy as those around her peppered her with questions.
“Come with me,” Mira said, and took her hand and led her away, into the hall.
Mira tried doors until she found one that was unlocked and they entered what turned out to be a science lab.
Mira shut and locked the door behind them.
“Over here,” she said, and led Shayla to a lab bench in the far corner of the room, out of sight of anyone who might look through the narrow window in the door. “What happened?” she asked. “Why did they arrest Mitch?”
Shayla began to cry. Mira held her hand and waited as her friend fought for control. “They said…” Shayla began, then swallowed and tried again. “They said they were taking him into custody…in connection with Bryce Atkinson’s kidnapping!”