from Charleston this week, only about three hours away. Marianna wondered if the man would try to make it down to visit Josh before heading off to the next city on the list. Hmm, probably not or she would have been notified by now. Closed captions played at the bottom, displaying the conversation taking place between the reporter and Josh’s father.
No wonder Josh lived with his grandparents. His father was a busy man, and his mother had died a few years ago.
“…overhead transparencies?”
The question came from the door, catching Marianna’s attention with the noise. Misty Williams, late twenties, tall, red hair, green eyes. And a teacher with an attitude. Why the woman had taken a dislike for Marianna was beyond her.
“I’m sorry?”
Misty rolled her eyes, then stomped into the room to pull open a file cabinet.
Marianna felt her jaw drop but swallowed her desire to snap the woman’s head off. As if she didn’t have enough stress in her life right now without adding Misty’s nastiness to it.
“Excuse me.” Marianna stepped forward and placed a hand on the drawer. The woman’s gall was unbelievable.
Misty stopped her search. “Transparencies. Jean said you have some.”
Marianna sighed. Perhaps if she kept her cool, one day Misty would reveal why she disliked Marianna so much. “Sure, Misty, how many do you need?”
“Four or five should be fine.”
Handing them over, she tried to see beyond the anger— and saw nothing but the raw emotion directed solely at her. She shivered. Why did the woman display such malice toward her?
Misty snatched them and left without a word of thanks.
Shaking her head, Marianna welcomed the rest of her class as they filed in. Her assistant hurried through the door and tossed her lunch bag on her desk. “Sorry I’m late—my car wouldn’t start this morning, so I had to catch the bus.”
“No problem, I’m just glad you made it.” She placed a hand on the woman’s arm, glanced around to see that the students’ attention was on the news and asked, “Dawn, do you know why Misty is so hateful to me?”
Dawn’s eyes went wide, then her lips thinned. “No, but I’ve noticed her attitude toward you.”
“She seemed friendly enough initially, after she first started working here a couple of months ago, but something definitely happened to put her off of me, that’s for sure.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for you.”
“Maybe I should just ask her.”
Dawn shrugged. “I guess you could. Or maybe it’s just a phase and she’s having a couple of bad weeks. Who knows?”
“Maybe.”
And then there was no more time to worry about the situation. Soon, Marianna found herself caught up in the business of teaching and the endless stack of paperwork that went with it.
Before she knew it, the day had passed and the final bell had rung. Basketball practice wasn’t until after supper, so Marianna stayed late working on papers. Around five o’clock, she pulled a frozen dinner from her dorm-sized refrigerator and walked toward the teacher’s lounge to zap it in the microwave.
As she stepped from her well-lit classroom into the dark hall, she noticed how empty the building was.
Empty and spooky.
She didn’t need her imagination to fill in what could happen to a lone female in a deserted building. She paused, trying to decide whether to keep going or turn around, grab her purse and get out. Which was silly, because she’d done this routine of staying late ever since basketball season started. Only now, with Suzanne’s death and the break-in…
Adrenaline kicked in as she relived the terror of seeing Suzanne lying lifeless on the floor, of being alone in her house, grief stricken and weary, then terrorized once again when the intruder climbed through her bedroom window.
Returning to the scene of the crime.
Fear seized her, cramped her stomach as a terrifying idea flashed through her mind.
What if Suzanne was not only in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also was the wrong person?
What if the killer originally thought Suzanne was Marianna, learned of his mistake, and Friday night was his idea of trying to finish the job?
* * *
Ethan sat at his desk, flipping through the case files, his mind about as alert as mush. He couldn’t keep his thoughts focused as he worried about Marianna. For some reason he couldn’t convince himself that this last break-in was unrelated to Suzanne’s murder.
He glanced at the clock. Almost five thirty. Catelyn had left forty-five minutes ago to meet up with Marianna’s sister Alissa.
Marianna had basketball practice with her team at six, but no doubt she would head over to the gym early to make sure everything was ready. Tapping his pen against his chin, he thought. Should he go over just to check on her? What if something happened to her while he sat here worrying about her?
She’s a big girl, O’Hara—she doesn’t need you checking up on her.
But his mind kept playing the “what if” game. What if there was something behind her and she didn’t hear it? What if someone tried to warn her of the danger coming and…
Stop it!
Although…what would it hurt? Just run by, say hey, and then head home. To his empty apartment. Where he would grill chicken for one. Fix one glass of iced tea. Set one place at the table. Growing up, he and Ashley had shared thousands of meals together, just the two of them, while their parents traveled the world, jet-setting with their country club friends.
Ah, Ashley, sweet sister, even after almost three years, I still miss you terribly at times.
He let his gaze slide to the picture on his desk, the last one he’d taken of Ashley. She had her long dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, had on sweats and a ball cap. Her grin pierced him as he remembered the last time he’d seen her, tried to warn her about the car speeding toward her.
She hadn’t heard him. Instead she’d hurried toward him, stepping into the path of the vehicle. And he’d been unable to do anything about it. To stop it. His fault…
Ethan slapped the picture facedown, stood and gathered his leather jacket. He’d just go by the school and see Marianna, make sure she was all right. But he sure wouldn’t tell her that was his reason for stopping by. She was certainly little Miss Independent.
And she was probably fine, but what could it hurt? Just to see. To reassure himself.
* * *
Marianna hurried up the walkway to the dark gym. Puzzlement made her frown. Where were the lights? Her assistant coaches and student helpers?
Granted, the players wouldn’t show up for another fifteen, twenty minutes, but everyone else should be here by now. Reaching the heavy glass doors, she saw a sign:
* * *
Basketball practice has been canceled.
* * *
“What?” She hadn’t canceled practice! Well, that explained why no one was here. Had someone decided to play a practical joke on her? It was too early in the year for an April Fool’s Day prank. They’d gotten her good last year: every one of her starting players had texted her claiming to be sick and unable to attend the big play-off game. She still hadn’t come up with an appropriate retaliation.
She pulled on the door. Locked. Digging in her pocket for her key, she opened it and stepped inside.
Great, another dark hallway.
She slapped at