Always The One. Tara Randel

as he walked down the deserted hallway lined with lockers. The familiar smell of paste, chalk and rubber erasers, mixed with the stringent odor of cleaning supplies, had him recalling his school years.

      He’d had a great childhood. Parents who had loved him, brothers who were his friends. His father had made sure to engage in an activity with each of his boys, making them feel connected in a special way. He and his dad had bonded over woodworking, his father teaching him how to use specialized tools to create mini works of art out of chunks of wood. The skill also came in handy when he had to make repairs around the house.

      It wasn’t until Hannah that he understood the meaning of romantic love. And the pain of losing that love. Hannah’s leaving had not only torn his heart apart, it had put a huge strain on his relationship with his father.

      When Derrick had confronted him after finding the Rawlings family gone, his father had remained silent. Derrick railed, asking if he had taken the information Derrick had confided in him and used it against the Rawlingses. His father had justified his actions by saying he was looking out for the best interests of the family. That he was a police officer sworn to uphold the law. Even though he never revealed what happened, they’d argued and a wide chasm had formed between them, lasting right up until the day his father suddenly died. Derrick had never repaired the relationship and it had haunted him ever since. He didn’t want that for himself and Hannah.

      He shook off the bitter memories as he stopped at the door to Hannah’s classroom. Peeked in through the window. Chalk held by slim fingers, she was writing on the board, teaching a math equation, it looked like. She wore a slim-fitting green dress and tall black boots. The fluorescent lights shone down on her beautiful hair, pulled back again, only today a few reckless curls escaped confinement. He could just make out the lilt of her voice through the barrier between them.

      The walls were covered with various posters, the desks lined up in straight rows. He noticed two types of students: those studiously writing down the information Hannah presented, and the others, talking to their neighbor or gazing out the window. One industrious student hurled spitballs at the girls seated in the desks in front of him. Like every teacher in the world who had eyes in the back of their head, Hannah turned a stern look on the children, bringing the group back to order.

      He wished she’d called him the night she left. Did she even try? The Marshals wouldn’t have allowed it, but he and Hannah had such a close relationship—or at least he thought they did. Couldn’t she have found a way? It still hurt that she hadn’t let him know what was going on. Surely she could have snuck around the authorities? He would have if their positions had been reversed.

      Realizing these were questions to be posed at a different time, he continued his rounds. By the time the lunch buzzer sounded, he was ready for some action.

      The large cafeteria was bustling with activity, noise echoing off the high ceilings. The hot lunch aroma had his stomach growling, but he stood in the designated spot to observe as the kids found their places at the tables. He might be here to get the truth out of Hannah, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take this job seriously.

      As the kids got busy eating, Derrick noticed a motion out of the corner of his eye. The young boy from earlier, Tommy, stood by his table and wildly waved his arms. Curious, Derrick headed his way.

      “Is there a problem?”

      “The guys don’t believe I’m working with you.”

      Derrick swallowed a chuckle. “Well, technically, you’re a student.”

      “So am I working with you or not?”

      “In a limited capacity.”

      “What does that mean?” asked a smaller boy with glasses and a serious expression.

      “It means I do the work, but I will listen to Tommy’s report at the end of the day.”

      Tommy puffed his chest out, fist-bumping the boys around him. The serious boy motioned Derrick to come closer. Leaning over, the boy whispered in his ear, “Tommy is mean.”

      “Really?”

      “He thinks he’s the boss of everyone.”

      Derrick sent Tommy a narrow-eyed glance. The kid suddenly looked unsure of himself.

      “Can you make him stop?”

      “I can certainly try.”

      This earned him a big grin and a serious case of hero worship. He wanted to show these kids how to get along without taking advantage of their places in the power structure. He’d hated that hierarchy when he was in school and imagined it hadn’t changed much.

      The lunch hour ended and Derrick spent the afternoon doing various security tasks: patroling the campus, going over the surveillance equipment with Glen, monitoring some of the student activities. With only a half hour left of classes, Derrick headed to his position outside the front door to watch over the lineup of cars for student pickup. He hadn’t gotten far when he heard a ruckus come from the direction of Hannah’s room. He took off on a brisk run and skidded in front of the door. The voices were louder now, more alarmed. He pushed the door open to step into bedlam.

      Girls were running about, checking inside desks and cubbies. Boys scurried around the perimeter of the room, rummaging through bookshelves. Hannah was calling them to order, without much success. Tommy stood before a cage, the door wide-open, a grimace on his face.

      Hannah finally noticed Derrick and came over.

      “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone sharp, his reflexes ready to take control of the situation.

      “Sally is missing.”

      His instincts to protect a child kicked in. “Can you give me a description?”

      “She’s stout and short legged, with short brown hair, a bit fuzzy, wearing a pink ribbon.”

      He gaped at Hannah as she described her student.

      “Sally’s our class guinea pig and she’s escaped her cage.”