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To refresh your memory, Jim has been receiving threatening
letters in the mail. As advised by Jack Palmer, he hired Al Spurgeon as his
bodyguard. Jim met the former biker in Los Angeles while working on a case in
Trixie’s stead. Our story picks up on a cold morning in January as Jim
prepares to begin another ordinary day… Tuesday, January 18th Jim Frayne unlocked the main entrance of Ten Acres
Academy an hour-and-a-half sooner than he usually did. Even though he was an
early bird, he had groaned when his alarm clock had gone off at “Well, Frayne, this is what you get for letting
Trixie keep you up half the night. Now, unless you want to be stuck here
until Although
he hated to expose his fingers to the biting cold, he removed his gloves so
he could punch the security code into the keypad by the door. Once the alarm
had been deactivated, he opened the front doors of the school and went inside
to begin his day. Jim’s
busy schedule required a combination of organization, dedication, and
ambition for him to successfully juggle his duties as school administrator
and shrewd businessman. Although he was being pulled in two different
directions, his heart was at Ten Acres, and he spent the majority of his work
hours there. Running a year-round school for orphaned and/or wayward children
had been his dream since he was a teenager, but somewhere along the way, it
had become more than that; it had become his calling, something he was born to
do. His duties as headmaster went beyond filling minds with knowledge. Jim’s
primary goal was to heal his students’ hearts in hopes that, in turn, each
one would be inspired to help others. Just like abuse, benevolence was a
cycle; however, the charitable circuit was one Jim hoped would be repeated
time and time again. In
spite of his desire to spend most of his time at the school, the lure of the
business siren still beckoned him. Before the academy opened the past summer,
he’d worked at Wheeler Enterprises. Although the school was his passion, Jim
couldn’t deny the fact that he had a knack for finance. Like his
great-grandfather who had initially earned the Frayne family fortune,
business was in his blood. Assisting his adoptive father with running a billion-dollar
corporation, negotiating huge mergers, and analyzing the ever-changing stock
market was an enjoyable challenge to the handsome redhead. And he was good at
it. Nothing had changed since he was a teenager. Anything worth doing, Jim
could do well, including make money. When
the dream of his year-round school was finally realized, Jim had made it
clear to his father that his primary focus had shifted to being the
headmaster of the academy. Although Matthew was saddened by his son’s
decision, Ten Acres had become his dream as well. He gave Jim his
blessing, all the while secretly hoping that his son would return to Wheeler
Enterprises at least part-time. It
didn’t take long until Matthew’s wish was granted. In spite of his taxing
schedule at the school, Jim began to miss the wheeling and dealing of the
business world. After a bit of cajoling from his father, he agreed to take on
an active role in running his father’s corporation, albeit a small
role. He traveled into New York City once a week to work in his office at the
company’s headquarters. Both Jim and Honey would retain their stock in the
company, as well as serve on the board of directors, enabling each of the
business’ future heirs to have input regarding the future of Wheeler
Enterprises. However, provisions were made that, in case of Matthew’s
untimely death, the responsibility of operating the ever-growing conglomerate
on a daily basis would be divided amongst Matthew’s current executive
staff. Although
a monthly board meeting didn’t sound like much responsibility when he’d
agreed to the arrangement, it required far more time than Jim had planned to
allot for such a purpose. A lesser man might have crumbled under the intense
pressure of holding two such demanding, high-profile positions, but the
situation was perfect for someone with Jim’s drive. A man of his motivation
thrived when faced with a challenge. The
heavy workload had actually been his salvation when Trixie had left for
California. Now that she’d returned with his engagement ring on her finger,
Jim began to wonder if he’d taken too much upon himself. No matter how
important the school and the family business were to him, Trixie would always
come first. To the one-time orphan, nothing came before family. His birth
father had always taught Jim that no matter what he did for a living, and no
matter what his hobbies were, no matter how civic minded he was, a man’s
primary responsibility was to his wife and children. If a man fulfilled his
family obligations first, everything else would fall into place. Hiring
Margery Trask as his second-in-command turned out to be the smartest thing
that Jim had ever done when it came to organizing the school. When his many
burdens threatened to weigh him down too heavily, his faithful Vice-Principal
quickly stepped in and lent a hand. Marge somehow managed to “butt in” and
lighten his load without stepping on his toes or appearing power hungry. She
knew exactly when she should take on a certain project, and when she should
allow Jim to handle it himself. She performed her duties in a quiet,
unassuming manner, and as a result, she had proven herself invaluable not
only to Jim, but the school as a whole. Jim
had come to depend heavily upon not only Marge’s experience in the
educational field, but also upon her wisdom and management skills. Even
though he considered himself a master organizer, he stood in awe of her
ability to keep track of every single teacher, volunteer, dorm monitor,
custodian, secretary, and cook, not to mention each and every one of their
eighty-five students. In
fact, Jim hadn’t realized exactly how essential Marge was to Ten Acres until
recently. She’d gone to Pirates’ Point to spend the holidays with her
brother. Frank had convinced her to extend her vacation through the first two
weeks of January, and she’d remained at her family’s inn until the previous
weekend. Jim was anxious to catch her
up on everything that had happened during her absence. With
the added stress of planning a wedding and dealing with a potential stalker
weighing upon him, Jim was more thankful than ever for Marge’s assistance. As
a safeguard, he’d designated in his will that if anything happened to him,
the administration of the school would be handed to his former governess. He
knew that she could manage Ten Acres just as well— if not better — than he
himself. Not
that he was anticipating the worst, mind you. In
spite of the reassurance that he had a capable Vice-Principal hovering in the
wings, Jim felt it necessary to take care of certain tasks himself. It was
because of this sense of obligation that he found himself at the school so
early this particular morning. A stack of forms requiring his personal
attention had been placed on his desk the evening before. Although he hated
leaving anything undone, he’d received a call from a hot blonde, who asked
him to have dinner with her. In spite of his noble intentions of being a
responsible headmaster and finishing his work before going out to play, the
blonde weakened his resistance and pleaded with him to “ditch that heap of
applications…just this once.” It was an offer he simply couldn’t
refuse. Later that night, Jim prayed that the Office Fairy would come in and
magically take care of all that paperwork, but he had a feeling that wasn’t
going to happen. He suspected that pile of forms was exactly where he had
left them the evening before. In
his haste to get to the office, he’d forgotten to notify his newly-hired
bodyguard about the change in his schedule. Stubborn as usual, Jim shrugged
off the notion that maybe it hadn’t been wise to go to work without Al
Spurgeon at his side. Now he was having second thoughts. Ten Acres Academy
had an almost eerie feel as he flipped on the lights in the main foyer of the
school. Although the thermostat was set on a constant seventy degrees, a
shiver coursed down his spine. Must
be because of the nasty weather outside, he rationalized, ignoring the goose bumps that had risen on
his arms. The
faint sound of footsteps echoed farther down the hall and immediately
captured Jim’s full attention. He froze in his tracks as he honed in on the
noise and tried to determine its source and location. Common sense told him
that it was merely his overactive imagination. After hearing the sound a
second time, he attempted to calm himself down. Relax,
Frayne. Jim took several deep breaths in
and out and went through a mental tick list of reasons he shouldn’t worry. The
custodial staff always double-checks to make sure the doors are locked.
Nobody without a key could get in or out, and if someone broke in, the alarm
would go off. You probably just heard the furnace creaking. Quit letting your
imagination run away with you, or before you know it, you’ll be calling the
police with a Big Foot sighting. Before
he could stifle his unsettling thoughts, the definite noise of someone
walking caused a lump to settle in his throat. It’s
probably the floorboards settling; this is a new building, you know. However,
his gut told him the sounds he heard were being caused by something more
sinister. Brilliant
move, forgetting to call Al this morning, he rebuked himself. Aw, who’re you trying to kid, Frayne?
You didn’t “forget” to call; you resent the fact that someone has to baby-sit
you, so you “forgot” on purpose. And if this noise is the stalker coming
to attack you, you’d better pray that he goes ahead and murders you, because
if Trixie finds out that you “forgot” to call Al, you’d be better off in the
hands of this psycho than have Trixie get a hold of you... Jim
held his breath as he listened for any other strange noises. Aside from the
loud pounding thuds emanating from his chest, he didn’t hear anything
unusual. His mouth was so dry that he wondered if he could emit any sound at
all. “Hello?”
he managed to choke out. “Is anybody there?” Silence. Calm
down, buddy boy. Jim took several deep, cleansing
breaths, hoping to regulate his breathing. A dorm monitor probably gave
one of the students permission to go downstairs, and the kid was too afraid
of getting into trouble to answer. Those letters are making you paranoid.
You’re so jumpy that you think every single noise you hear is this creep.
You’ve got to pull yourself together. Of
course, that was easier said than done, especially when Jim heard the
distinctive sound of the gymnasium’s exterior door. That particular door
scraped against the concrete ground outside whenever it was opened or closed.
Faced with the reality that he had actually heard something, his
adrenaline kicked in, and Jim raced towards the source of the sound, hoping
to catch the intruder red-handed. It
could’ve only taken him a minute at the very most to run to the western wing
of the school that housed the physical education department. Breathlessly, he
banged open the double doors of the gymnasium and appraised the situation. The
large space was completely void of light and appeared unoccupied. After
quickly flipping on the lights, the only things Jim saw were vacant
bleachers, a darkened scoreboard, and the knight that had been painted in the
center of the high-gloss basketball court. Not a single thing seemed to be
out of place. To
further test the conclusion that everything was as it should be, Jim walked
down the concrete sideline to the heavy, metal exit door. He tried to push
down on the long, horizontal handle, but it wouldn’t budge; the door was
securely locked. Cursing his paranoia, as well as its source, Jim
angrily turned on his heel and retraced his steps through the gymnasium. That’s
a great way to waste thirty minutes, he
berated himself as he strode purposefully down the hall. However, being the
wary man that he was, Jim made a quick detour to the front entrance and
relocked the door before continuing his trek to his office. The
normally bustling school was as quiet as a graveyard. On a normal day, the
halls would begin filling with students in a couple of hours. Of course, it
never failed that a few procrastinators would arrive early to dig through
their lockers, searching for yesterday’s homework assignment that they hadn’t
completed the evening before. However, on this particular Tuesday, the
hallways were completely devoid of human life outside of Jim. The “January
Term” had made a virtual ghost town of Ten Acres. On
December twenty-third, the academy began an extended break which Jim had
designated the “January term”. During
this time, the students who had successfully completed their first semester
courses could enjoy a vacation from their classes. Students whose grades had
been less than stellar could use the January Term as an opportunity to
improve their scores. However, these tutoring sessions were only offered on
Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and none of the students were permitted
leave their dorms or the student lounge to wander the school without approval.
Unfortunately,
the headmaster of Ten Acres Academy hadn’t been given the option of relaxing
during the January Term. Since the students remained on campus even during
the summer, the faculty reported year-round. Even when there weren’t any
classes, the dorms were still full of occupants, which meant that there were
still a plethora of disciplinary referral forms to deal with, menus to
approve, activities to organize, and a staff to manage. After
pulling out a ring filled with various keys, Jim unlocked the door to the
administrative wing of the school. This particular section of Ten Acres
housed several different offices, including his. Jim walked past the general
secretary’s desk, and then navigated the long hallway of closed doors until
he arrived at his own. He unlocked the main door, walked past Dessie’s desk,
and then used another key to open the door to his office. When the school
opened this past summer, he regretted making it so difficult to get to his
personal office. However, after the mysterious letters began arriving, he
considered the labyrinth a blessing in disguise. Once
he’d turned on the overhead light, Jim took off his heavy coat, cap, and
scarf and hung the winter garments neatly on the coat tree by the door. Enough
with pursuing imaginary stalkers, he told himself as he straightened his
tie. It’s time to leave the investigating to the professionals and tackle
these forms. With
a weary sigh, he sat down in his high-backed leather office chair, scooted up
to his mahogany desk, and picked up the pile of paperwork on his desk. “Back
to the old grind,” he mumbled as he prepared to begin another ordinary day of
work. Forty-five minutes passed, yet Jim had barely made a
dent in the stack of applications on his desk. If I didn’t know better,
I’d think that these things were reproducing asexually, he thought wryly.
To
break up the monotony of his task, he swiveled around in his chair to face
the paper shredder that was positioned against the wall. He picked up the
wastebasket beside it, and proceeded to destroy any important-looking
documents that had been discarded. Not only did this task give his eyes a
much needed break, it also allowed him to operate a potentially dangerous
machine and destroy things on purpose; in short, it was every boy’s dream
job. The
paper shredder buzzed so loudly as it sliced through documents that the faint
clicking sound of a key rattling in the knob was indiscernible. Since his
back faced the entrance, Jim never even noticed when the door slowly opened and
someone crept stealthily into the room. He continued feeding the discarded
pieces of mail into the machine, blissfully unaware that he had made himself
vulnerable to the newcomer who now stood behind him. Just as he paused to
dump the paper that had collected in the shredder’s container, Jim felt a
hand clamp down firmly on his shoulder. “You
can run, but you can’t hide.” Sudden
contact and an unexpected voice would’ve been enough to startle Jim. However,
the force of the contact, combined with the menacing tone of the voice, only
served to magnify his terror tenfold. His breath raspy from fear, Jim whirled
around in his chair to face the owner of the aforementioned forceful hands
and menacing voice. “You
scared me to death, Al,” he finally managed. “Not
half as much as you scared me, Mr. Jim,” his burly guardian retorted gruffly.
“I thought you was pullin’ some kinda grift when I gave the big house the
buzz and seen that my meat had taken the run-out.” In
spite of the fact that he was currently being harshly scolded by a former
officer in one of the country’s most notorious motorcycle gangs, Jim stopped
to ponder Al’s terminology quite ironic. The first addition to his security
staff had a less-than stellar record, and actually had been an extended
“guest” of a couple different “big houses” in California. However, Jim couldn’t help but wonder if Al
found the staunch rules of the Manor House even more restrictive than prison
life. “You
shoulda told me you was leavin’ for work early,” Al continued, clearly
irritated. “I stopped by to ride with you like I always do, but you wasn’t
nowhere to be found.” “I’m
sorry, Al,” Jim apologized. “I was behind on my paperwork, so I came in early
to get a jumpstart on it.” “Yeah,
I figured that out.” The hulk of man exhaled loudly as he crossed his arms in
front of his brawny chest. “ ’Course, I hadta scare that pretty dark-haired
maid who answered the door hafta death in the process. I guess she thought I
was the devil himself ‘cuz she turned white as a ghost when she gotta slant
at me standin’ there. Somehow, I convinced her that I wasn’t gonna rub you
out or anything like that, and that I was just hitchin’ a ride to school with
you, but I couldn’t find you nowhere. When we seen your wheels still parked
in the garage, she went whacko and yelled for your ma.” Jim’s
stomach sank at the trouble he had caused. “How did Mother take the news?” “Pretty
bad,” Al admitted. “She started fannin’ herself and staggerin’ around like
she’d been hittin’ the giggle juicy early and was gonna throw a joe, and then
Celia came in to see why your ma was snappin’ a cap.” Al groaned loudly as he
recalled the stressful events of the morning. “Then, Celia started
yellin’ at the maid for rilin’ up Miz Wheeler, and told the maid to close her
head an’ shut up. But at least Celia was nicer to me this time and didn’t try
an’ make me dust out.” “What
happened after that?” Jim asked hesitantly, although he wasn’t sure he really
wanted to hear the answer. “Well,
Celia somehow convinced your ma to take a load off, and she ordered the maid
to get a Valium for your ma, but I think she was really just tryin’ to give
‘er the bum’s rush.” Al paused, and then added dramatically, “The maid, not
your mom.” Jim
nodded, an amused smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Go on.” “Anyway,
after she got your ma calmed down, Celia called your old man,” Al continued.
“Mr. Wheeler just sorta laughed and told me to check the school, ‘cuz you’d
probably be here workin’, and if you wasn’t here, then I should call
Miss Trixie. So that’s what I did.” “So,
you haven’t told Trixie about this yet?” Jim’s voice took on a distinctly
hopeful tone. “Nah,”
Al replied. “I was goin’ to, though, if you hadn’t been here. I’m glad I
didn’t hafta worry her; she’s gotta lot on her plate as it is.” “Yeah.”
Relieved, Jim raked a hand through his russet-colored hair. “Once again, I’m
really sorry for causing such a stir. I had all this paperwork waiting for
me, so I thought I’d just come in a little bit early. It completely slipped
my mind that we were supposed to ride together, but that’s no excuse for not
calling.” Al
cocked a bushy gray eyebrow at his employer, as a new question emerged in his
mind. “Hey, how’d you get here, boss?” “Pardon?”
“How’d
you get here?” Al repeated tersely. “Your crate’s back at the
house, and there ain’t no other rides in the parking lot, so I know you
didn’t borrow somebody else’s heap.” “I
walked,” Jim said with a shrug. “You
walked?” “Yeah,
sometimes I walk to school,” Jim replied simply. “There’s a shortcut through
the woods that we all took when we were kids. It’s almost as quick to hike
here than it is to drive. I like the exercise, and being outside helps clear
my head. I’ve always felt right at home in the woods.” Al
inhaled deeply in an attempt to rein in his anger. “Mr. Jim, I know you’re my
boss, and I don’t wanna sound disrespectful, but do you really think
it’s a good idea for you to be wanderin’ around the woods alone when some
nut’s got the curse on you?” “It
really isn’t that far from Manor House to Ten Acres.” Jim’s voice took
on a childish quality, and it sounded almost like he was a small boy who was
trying to convince his father that it wasn’t his baseball that had
just broken the living room window. “It only took fifteen minutes at the most…” “Fifteen
minutes is plenty of time for some whack-a-doo to blow your brains out,” Al
interjected briskly. “We don’t need no Valentine’s Day at Ten Acres, boss.” Jim’s
breath caught in his throat. It finally began to sink in exactly how foolish
his actions had been. Suddenly, the irony of the situation caused him to
chuckle. “You
okay, Mr. Jim?” Al asked, his weathered forehead wrinkled with concern. “You
need me to call the head doctor or somethin’?” “I’m
fine, Al,” Jim assured him. “I was just thinking how much Trixie would enjoy
hearing our chat.” Al
drew back in surprise. “Huh?” “For
years, I lectured Trixie exactly like you’re lecturing me now,” Jim explained
with a cynical snort. “She was a detective, even when we were teenagers, and
she and Honey always managed to stumble on a mystery of some sort to solve.
It never failed that some dangerous criminal she was chasing would be trying
to kill her, yet Trixie seemed oblivious to it all. She’d sneak out alone for
a night swim, wander off to the most dangerous place possible in search of a
clue… Anything to put herself in a precarious situation. She practically gave
her older brother Brian and me a heart attack on several occasions.” “I’m
afraid I still don’t get what you’re sayin’.” “It’s
ironic that after all my years of lecturing Trixie about how she should be
more careful, right now I’m guilty of being just as foolhardy.” “Well,
I dunno much ‘bout irony, ‘cept when it comes to the handcuffs the cops slap
on your wrists when they nip you, but I do know that you pay me to
keep you safe,” Al remarked brusquely. “An’ I can’t do that unless I know
where you are.” Jim
hung his head in contrition. “I know, and for the hundredth time, I’m
sorry.” “There’s
a lotta people dependin’ on you, boss.” Al’s voice took on a strangely
earnest quality. “Miss Trixie, the kids at this school, all the people who
work here, your family... You’ve gotta lotta folks that need you alive, Mr.
Jim.” In a voice barely above a gruff whisper, he added, “Me
included.” Jim
nodded in understanding. “I promise I’ll do better, Al.” As a token of that
promise, he reached out and patted the rough-looking man on the shoulder. “I
truly am sorry, and I hope you’ll forgive me.” Al’s
eyes widened in surprise. As a former outlaw, a friendly pat on the shoulder
was unfamiliar to him. Not only that, he hadn’t been expecting his employer’s
earnest plea for forgiveness. Where he came from, people in Jim Frayne’s
position never had to be forgiven for anything, no matter how wrong they had
been. “No
problem, Mr. Jim,” he finally muttered as he nervously shoved his meaty paws
into the front pockets of his jeans. “I shouldn’ta got on you like I did.
Why, you’re probably safer here by yourself than you would be in the woods
with me. This place is locked up tighter than Fort Knox.” Jim
chuckled as he recalled his paranoia from earlier that morning. “The notion
of someone breaking in here is pretty ridiculous, isn’t it?” Al
snorted loudly. “Yeah, I barely got in, and I’ve gotta key.
That door in the gym is tricky to open. You justa ‘bout hafta haul out the
nitroglycerin and pull a Peterman to get inside.” “You
came in through the gymnasium?” Jim breathed a sigh of relief. So that’s
what I heard… “Uh-huh,”
Al affirmed with a nod. “I guess that’s a popular entrance today.” One
of Jim’s ginger-colored brows shot up in surprise. “What do you mean by
that?” “Well,
there was footprints in the snow outside that door, so I assumed that’s where
you came in,” Al explained. His ruddy complexion went ashen as he beheld the
sick look on Jim’s face. “That is where you came in the school,
right?” “I
used the front entrance,” Jim confessed, his voice solemn. “But when I got
here this morning, I thought I heard noises coming from the direction of the
gym.” Al
immediately let loose a string of cleverly arranged four-letter expletives
which would effectively alter the rating of a PG-rated film. When he had
finally calmed down enough to form a rational sentence, he turned to his
boss, his entire body shaking from the effort of suppressing his rage. “Do
you mean to tell me that somebody broke in the school while you was here? You
shoulda tipped your mitt before now, Mr. Jim! It coulda been that psycho
lookin’ to give you a fatal case of lead poisonin’! A couplea clips and— bada
bing, bada boom— you gotta bean in your mug!” “I
didn’t want to jump to any hasty conclusions,” Jim responded in an attempt to
placate his angry employee. “After all, the noises I heard could’ve been the
furnace, or the floor creaking, or maybe—” “Or
maybe it was that whack-job whose been writin’ you all those crazy
letters, sendin’ in the torpedoes to bump you off!” Al interjected huffily. Stubborn
redhead that he was, at this point Jim refused to admit that there was a good
chance Al was correct. “It was
probably just a student...” “And
what about the footprints outside?” Al’s glare proved he was just as
stubborn— if not more so — than his red-haired boss. “Could a kid have snuck
outside without you knowin’ about it?” “No,”
Jim admitted quietly. “The alarm was still activated, and it would’ve gone
off if anyone opened the door.” “So
it hadta be somebody from the outside,” Al observed. Jim’s
voice took on a hopeful tone. “Even if somebody used the gymnasium entrance,
we don’t know it was the stalker. It could’ve just been a member of
the staff.” Al
squinted his eyes as he mulled Jim’s suggestion. “Do a lotta them guys have a
key that could open that particular door?” Jim
abruptly cleared his throat, uneager to answer the question he’d just been
asked. He decided to ignore the query altogether. “We’re being ridiculous; we
don’t even know for sure that someone was here.” “Maybe
you’re right,” Al acknowledged. “But if I was gonna put money on it, I’d be
willin’ to bet twenty large that someone was here. And, if someone was
here, how do we know that he ain’t still in the school, waitin’ to squirt
your conk fulla metal?” Jim’s
throat went dry as he considered the possibility. He wasn’t sure exactly what
Al had said, but it didn’t sound pretty. “What do you suggest we do?” “Well,
you’re gonna finish that paperwork.” Al plunked the heavy, black carryon
that he’d brought with him onto Jim’s mahogany desk. “And I’m gonna
get to work installin’ a deadbolt on this door. I’m not leavin’ you here
alone without first makin’ sure that you’re gonna be safe from the guy who’s
lookin’ to do you up. Lucky for you that I planned to rig you up with a new
lock anyway, so I brought my tools with me.” “Can
you do that easily enough?” Jim inquired. “Yeah,
installin’ a deadbolt’s duck soup for a guy like me,” Al muttered as he
unzipped his bag and pulled out a heavy-duty drill and a set of bits. “I used
to work for a locksmith.” “You
told me on the plane that you were a bouncer,” Jim commented. “That
was after I hooked up with the Outlaws,” Al explained. “When I was still
legit, I worked as a locksmith. Fortunately for you, my mentor taught
me everything I needed to know about installin’ deadbolts. Unfortunately for me,
he also taught me how to unlock a vehicle without needin’ keys. Once
my older brother taught me how to hotwire an engine, well, I had everything I
needed to start a new vocation in grand theft auto, which came in handy when
I was short on dough and needed some quick cash to get my bike fixed. “It
seemed like a smart career choice at the time,” he added sadly. “You
aren’t the first person who’s thought the exact same thing,” Jim said in an
attempt to console him. “And unfortunately for us all, you won’t be the
last.” “Yeah,”
Al mumbled. Too ashamed of his past to meet Jim’s gaze, he focused his
attention to the doorjamb on which he’d be working. “Well,
I’m glad you’re a handy guy,” Jim remarked, hoping to put the conversation on
a more even keel. “Oh,
this is nothin’ big.” Al made a pretense of carefully studying the door on
which he was going to install the deadbolt. “Now if this door woulda been made
outta steel or fiberglass, I woulda needed a special bit for my drill, but
since it’s made out of solid wood, it won’t be too tough.” “What’re
you going to do after you finish installing the lock?” “Well,
after we ain’t got no doubts that that lock works, you’re gonna try it out,”
Al replied. “Till then, you’re gonna hole up in this office, and I’m gonna do
a perimeter check to make sure there ain’t no letter-writin’ loonies hidin’
under some desk, waitin’ to grab you by the ankle, yank you down on the ground,
and stab you in the neck with a pair of scissors. We don’t need no Harlem
sunset, if you get what I’m sayin’.” Jim
grimaced slightly at the vivid description. If Al’s intention was to make him
realize how serious this situation was, it worked. Jim’s cautious nature
finally resurfaced, and once again, he regretted how foolish he had been
earlier that morning. However, the reappearance of his wary side immediately
made him concerned about the safety of every person at Ten Acres. “I
can’t hide in this office all day, especially if the stalker is here,”
he argued. “I’m responsible for eighty-five students, eighteen dorm monitors,
as well as a live-in couple who acts as our custodian and head cook. If you
think I’m going to take cover in here while that nutcase wreaks havoc in my
school, then you’re crazy!” “I’m
not just crazy; I’m certifiable, baby,” Al affirmed with a chuckle.
“Seriously, Mr. Jim, I understand your concern, but right now you need to
worry about yourself. That weirdo’s not after these kids; he’s after you.” Jim
leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in a thoughtful pose. “I
know you’re probably right, but I’d never forgive myself if something
happened to one of my students or staff. It’s all I can do now to keep from
doing a perimeter check myself. I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but I
have a thing about needing to know what’s going on.” “I’ve
noticed,” Al admitted with a wince. “The
need to have a modicum of control over one’s situations is a trait common to
children who have lost a parent at an early age.” A sheepish smirk crept onto
the redhead’s face. “Sorry, Al. I don’t mean to bore you with all these
boring details. After all the psychology classes I’ve taken through the
years, I’ve been known to play armchair shrink and analyze myself.” “Hey, no problem,” Al said, shrugging. He
tipped his head downward in an attempt to stare down Jim. “But I don’t care
how much of that psychological mumbo-jumbo you spout off, I’m still not
lettin’ you outta my sight. If you’re gonna get outta this office, you’re
gonna have to get by me first. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but
I’m a big guy.” “I’ve
noticed,” Jim echoed, grinning broadly. “And I think I know how we can both
do what we need to do without endangering anyone.” “This
should be good.” Al’s skepticism was evident in his body language. “What’re
you gonna do?” “I’m
going to make absolutely certain that nobody enters or leaves this school
without my permission,” Jim answered. “Let me take care of a few things and
then I’ll explain.” Jim
immediately picked up the phone and punched in a number. It didn’t take him
long to make the necessary calls to the school’s head dorm monitor and the
live-in custodian. After giving them a brief explanation of what was
happening, he told them he was putting the school in lockdown mode, and
instructed each of them to do a thorough search of their respective floors to
make sure the school was secure. After
he had finished his conversations, Jim’s fingers flew over the keyboard of
his computer. In no time, a loud thud was heard echoing through the
building. Al’s eyebrows rose
noticeably at the sound, but he remained quiet as he waited for his boss to
finish his task. Finally, Jim leaned
back in his chair, the stress of his situation weighing heavily upon him. Al
couldn’t contain his curiosity any longer. “Did you say somethin’ on the
blower about a ‘lockdown’, Mr. Jim?” he asked, a touch of awe in his
voice. “Yes.”
Jim closed his eyes and massaged his forehead hoping it would provide relief
to his throbbing temples. “You
mean, ‘lockdown’ like we had in the cooler?”
Jim
grimaced at the notion of his school being compared to a penitentiary. “Not with the same connotations, but yeah, I
guess it’s a similar concept. Although none of our students are prisoners,
some of them do have behavioral problems which could require us to take
precautionary measures. Thank goodness these measures have never been needed
until now.” “So,
how’s it work?” “During
lockdown at Ten Acres, none of the exterior or stairwell doors can be opened
from the inside or outside, even with a key. It’s all controlled by computer
or the remote access panels by the exterior doors.” “So,
what you’re tellin’ me is that when you put the school on lockdown, nobody
can get in or leave?” Al clarified. Jim
nodded. “Yes, and in addition to that, nobody can open the doors to any of
the stairwells, so the people on the first floor can’t get to the second
floor, the people from the second floor can’t get to the third floor, and so
on.” “And
that noise I heard…?” Al’s voice trailed off.
“…was
the sound of the steel fasteners on all the exits being successfully
engaged,” Jim supplied. Al
nodded slowly, as if trying to process this information. Jim
smiled slightly at his employee. “What’s wrong, Al? You look confused.” “Well,
I don’t wanna speak outta turn or nothin’, but I’m havin’ a hard time
understandin’ why you’d wanna lock everything down,” Al admitted. “I mean, I
know why they did that in prison, but you’re dealin’ with a buncha kids here.
They wouldn’t cause no trouble.” “I
wish that were so, Al, but not all of our students are sweet, little angels,”
Jim explained. “As I said before, some of them have behavioral problems, and
a few of them have spent time in juvenile facilities. Whether we like it or
not, there’s always the possibility that one of them could cause trouble
here, and I have to protect the other students. Thankfully, we haven’t had
any problems yet, and I hope that continues.” “Me
too,” Al agreed quietly. His shoulders sagged as he studied Jim’s face with a
mixture of surprise and confusion. “You didn’t hafta deal with this, Mr. Jim.
You coulda jus’ accepted the students you knew wouldn’t cause no trouble. You
took a big risk, lettin’ these hop-heads an’ redhots into your school.” Jim
gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I suppose so, but I decided the kids
who were the biggest risk had the greatest need.” “Is
it worth it?” “Definitely,”
Jim replied confidently. “At Ten Acres we believe everyone deserves a second
chance. After all, at one time weren’t the two of us nothing more than stray
dogs getting into trouble?” Al
chuckled. “You got that right, boss. And hey, we’re livin’ proof that ol’
dogs can learn new tricks.” “And
just in case it takes a few of our puppies longer than others to be schooled,
we have a few extra precautions here.” “Yeah,
I think I get your drift now,” Al said. “But I have one more question about
this lockdown thing.” “Shoot.” “If
these locks work like you say they do, don’t that mean that if an intruder
is here, that he can’t leave?” Al questioned. “Wouldn’t he be trapped
inside?” “Exactly.”
Jim’s mouth pressed together in a tightlipped smile. “That would make
catching him easier, wouldn’t you agree?” Al
let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“That’s some serious system.” “Yeah,”
Jim agreed. “It’s pretty
innovative. Thanks to my father’s
foresight— and funds— we were able to install it for the school. The system can only be activated by computer
or by the keypads by the doors, and only a select few know the code. It’s a
precautionary tool we plan to use sparingly, since nobody would be able to
exit the building if there was a fire or an emergency of a similar nature
that would require a speedy evacuation. However, such a setup is perfect in
certain instances. For example, if we had an incident with one of our
students— God forbid — we’d be able to contain the situation to a specific
area of the building.” Jim paused
before adding somberly, “And it turned out to be perfect for this situation.” “How
does it work?” Al asked curiously, stepping a little closer to Jim’s desk in
an attempt to see his computer screen.
“I
just typed the necessary information into my computer, and I was able to put
all of the floors on lockdown,” Jim told him.
“Now, my staff can do a search without worrying about the kids. They’ll call me when they’re finished.” Jim sighed wearily, leaning back in his
chair, but still not looking completely relaxed. “Hopefully they won’t find
anything worth reporting.” “Hopefully.” Al studied his employer,
sympathy softening his weathered features. “It’ll be okay, Mr. Jim. We’re
gonna make sure your kids are safe.” “I’d
feel better if I were doing the searches myself,” Jim commented in an offhand
manner. “Don’t
you trust the guys you got workin’ for you?” Jim
shrugged his shoulders, completely at a loss for words. “You
really are a control freak,” Al said with a chuckle. “You know, you went
to a whole lotta trouble hirin’ these people, Mr. Jim. I bet you checked and
rechecked references till your eyes crossed, makin’ sure you hired the best
folks for the job. And they ain’t all ex-cons, I assume?” A
hint of a smile twitched at the corners of Jim’s mouth. “No, they’re not. I
don’t make a habit of finding my employees at drag queen bars.” “So
relax,” Al ordered. “Trust the people workin’ here to do the job you hired
‘em to do.” Jim
merely nodded, his features devoid of any emotion whatsoever. “Trustin’
people’s hard for you, ain’t it?” Al narrowed his gaze as he carefully
examined his employer’s face. “Somethin’ musta happened in your past to make
you this way.” Jim’s
emotionless mask remained firmly in place. “I
can tell by your face that I hit the nail on the head,” Al replied. “I can also
tell that you ain’t in no mood to talk about it, so I ain’t gonna keep on
bumpin’ my gums.” “Thank
you,” was Jim’s quiet response. Al
leaned forward closer to Jim. His normally gruff voice took on an almost
grandfatherly quality. “But I’m also gonna tell you that eventually
you’re gonna hafta trust someone. If you don’t, you’re never gonna put those
demons of yours to rest.” He chuckled, and then added, “You don’t hafta add
the cost of that advice to my tab; it was on the house.” That
final comment successfully put a smile on the redhead’s face. “That’s
actually pretty good advice,” he said. “I’ll try to remember it the next time
I’m having trust issues.” Jim’s
shaggy guardian picked up the drill he’d placed on the desk. “Well, if I’m
gonna keep you safe from the chopper squad, I’d better start workin’ on that
deadbolt now.” “All
right,” Jim agreed. “I’ll just finish shredding these pa—” “Hey,
how ‘bout you hold off on that, boss?” Al interjected quickly. “This drill’s
gonna be loud enough as it is, and if anyone comes through the door to your
secretary’s office, I don’t wanna be caught off guard.” “Good
point.” Jim shot him a rueful grin. “How about I finish looking at these
enrollment forms instead? It’s a lot quieter.” “Good
idea, Mr. Jim.” Jim
averted his gaze downward in the direction of his paperwork. However, he
simply couldn’t concentrate as he found something else to worry about. “What
about you?” he asked suddenly. “If someone is in the building, will you
be okay? I could call upstairs and ask one of the other dorm monitors to help
you search…” “Don’t
worry about me, boss,” Al told him earnestly. “I’ll be okay.” “Maybe
I could go with y—” “You’re
stayin’ here, Mr. Jim.” Although Al’s voice was dead calm, it was clear that
he meant business. “After bein’ in a motorcycle gang for almost twenty years,
and then spendin’ ten years in the clink, I’ve learned a thing or two about
survival. I can take care of myself.” Jim,
still skeptical, cocked a ginger brow in query. “And how will you do that? I
don’t know if you’re aware of this, but since this is a school,
firearms aren’t allowed within one-thousand feet of Ten Acres. I hope you
aren’t carrying a gun—” “That
ain’t gonna be a problem, Mr. Jim; I ain’t packin’ heat.” Al gave a wry
chuckle. “This convicted felon ain’t exactly dyin’ to go back to jail,
so I ain’t plannin’ on touchin’ a bean-shooter with a five-foot pole.” “Sorry,
Al. I forgot about that little detail,” Jim admitted sheepishly. The
leather-clad man hooted with laughter. “Well, forgettin’ my checkered past
ain’t a bad thing, I guess. There ain’t many people I’ve met who’ve been able
to forget about my record.” Jim
nodded in understanding. “I think you’ll find that Sleepyside is a good place
to start over. You won’t be the first citizen who’s made a fresh start here.
Lots of Sleepyside’s finest have skeletons in their closets. We don’t ask you
to keep your skeletons hidden; what’s important is making sure they don’t
take over your whole house.” “That’s
good to know.” Al put down his drill, and looked at his employer earnestly.
“I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, Mr. Jim. A guy like me don’t get
many breaks, and buh-lieve me, I don’t intend on disappointin’ you. You’ve
got my word that I’ll protect you from this nut, or die tryin’.” “I
hope it doesn’t come to that,” Jim said quietly. “Well,
even if it does, at least I’ll be able to say that, for once in my life, somebody
believed in Al Spurgeon.” The bearded bodyguard
laughed in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Considerin’ how much trouble you
musta went through to talk my parole officer in California into lettin’ me
come to New York, I’m surprised you haven’t sent me packin’ by now.” “It’s
amazing how a hefty donation to the LAPD can persuade a parole board to
transfer the responsibility of a former guest of the California penal system
to a probation officer in New York,” Jim quipped. “And I guess it also didn’t
hurt that Dad has a few connections in the California governor’s office…” A
chuckle rumbled from deep within Al’s belly. “Well, no matter how you did it,
I’m glad you did. I think I’m gonna like it here. Yous guys are the
best.” With that, he turned back to
his chore of installing the deadbolt. In no time at all, he had taped a
template onto the doorjamb to show him where to drill, and was preparing to
do the same thing to the actual door. Jim,
however, was having no such luck accomplishing his tasks. In spite of the
pile of forms on his desk that required his immediate attention, he found it
impossible to focus on his paperwork. His thoughts kept wandering back to the
noise he had heard earlier that morning. No matter how he tried to reassure
himself that all was well, the fear that something was amiss in Ten Acres
continuously niggled at the back of his mind. Jim grew more certain by the
minute that someone had been in the school. The
question was: Was he still there?
Thank you so much to the trio of lovely ladies who edited this
story, Kaye, Steph H, and Trish. I apologize that the first part of this chapter was so boring,
but there were some crucial details in there. Some of that information was
important for this story, and some is crucial for other stories. At the end of these notes, I’m going to include a special
glossary that will define all those curious words that Al uses. As explained in previous stories, Ms. Trask is now Jim’s
Vice-Principal and Celia is now the estate manager for Manor House. The
pretty dark-haired maid is Monica. A similar lockdown system is used in the juvenile detention
center where my husband sometimes preaches. According to one of my editors,
it wouldn’t be legal to use this particular system in a New York school, but
hey, this is Cameo-land where strange things happen. *g* Al’s glossary: Grift- a swindle Gave the buzz- showed up at the door Meat- a subject of interest Taken the run-out- escaped Got a slant at- looked at Rub one out- to kill Giggle juice- liquor Throw a joe- pass out Looker- a pretty lady Snapping a cap- having a fit Dish- a pretty lady Close one’s head- to be quiet Tomato- a pretty lady Give the bum’s rush- to get rid of Number- a pretty lady Ride- car Heap- car Got the curse on you- somebody want to kill you Head doctor- psychiatrist Valentine’s Day- a day for executions to be carried out i.e.
Saint Valentine’s Massacre To nip- to arrest A Peterman- a safecracker who uses explosives Tipped your mitt-
revealed something Fatal case of lead poisoning- to murder someone by shooting
them with a gun Torpedoes- Hired
killers Twenty large- $20,000 Squirt one’s conk- shoot someone in the head Do one up- kill someone Bada bing, bada boom- it’s taken care of Blower- the telephone Cooler- prison Hop-heads- drug addicts Redhots- criminals Duck soup- easy Harlem sunset- a fatal injury caused by a knife Bumping one’s gums- to keep talking Packing heat- carrying a gun Bean-shooter- gun
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