Linda Winstead Jones

One Major Distraction


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it?” Flynn asked. “I hadn’t realized.”

      Loomis snorted as she reclaimed her seat. “Don’t you watch television, Mr. Benning? Or listen to the radio? Or read the newspaper?”

      “I don’t watch much television,” he admitted. And when it came to the newspaper, he usually read the first page and skimmed the rest.

      Stephanie remained near the counter, standing right next to Tess Stafford. “When are you going to let me give you that makeover?” she asked, her eyes on the cafeteria lady’s face. “You have such good bone structure and such excellent skin tone, if you’d just get started with a good, daily skin care regimen…”

      “I really don’t have time,” Stafford said as she finished with the coffeemaker and backed away. She came inches from running into Flynn. He did a quick recon. Age: probably mid-thirties. Height: five foot five inches, or thereabouts. Physical condition: above average. There were nicely sculpted muscles in her upper arms, and underneath that baggy white uniform she looked to be in excellent shape. Socially: awkward, cautious. She definitely hadn’t been eager to make friends with him.

      Stafford scooped up the dirty mugs, much to Flynn’s dismay, and left the lounge with an awkward wave for the other teachers and the instruction to make do with the foam cups until she got the mugs washed and returned to the lounge. Tempted as Flynn was to tackle her and snag the fingerprinted crockery, he dismissed the idea. There would be other chances.

      He headed for the coffeepot and the cookies. “She seems to know her way around the school pretty well. How long has she been here?”

      “This is her first full year,” Kaylor said. “She settled in real nice, though, so it seems like she’s been here a lot longer.”

      “Does she live on campus?” Some teachers and other personnel did. Others didn’t.

      “She and another cafeteria worker have rooms on the second floor of the main building. The part-timers live in town, but Tess and Mary Jo have to start so early and work so late, it just makes sense for them to be close by the dining hall.”

      “Makes sense.” Flynn took a bite of the Valentines’ Day cookie. His instincts where people were concerned were highly tuned, and he always listened to them. Tess Stafford had the look of a woman who was hiding something. Something big, something she didn’t want him to uncover. She put his senses on alert in a way the other women—who made more viable suspects—didn’t.

      In preparing for this job, Flynn had seen crime scene photos of the murder in Austin. He wanted to believe it was unlikely a woman could commit such a brutal and bloody murder, but he had learned never to be surprised. Accepting that lesson had made life so much easier.

      Tess had a good grip on the mugs, grasping them all by the handles as she hurried toward the main building. She thought, more than once, that she should’ve grabbed her sweater before heading out to deliver cookies. Some days the cold weather took her by surprise. In just a few weeks, the spring warmth would move in and everything would change. For now, there were cold days and colder nights.

      The new history teacher set her teeth on edge, and she wasn’t sure why. He was extremely nice-looking, with very short blond hair, a chiseled jaw and a fit body. He had to be six foot two, at least, with wide shoulders and long legs and more than his share of muscle. He was old enough to be interesting, but was young enough to be, well, interesting. Late thirties maybe, judging by the lines around his eyes. He didn’t exactly look uncomfortable in his khakis and button-up shirt, so why did she get the feeling that the casual but professional outfit was not his usual garb? Maybe because he wasn’t built anything like the other male teachers around here. He didn’t look like any teacher she had ever known, here or in her own academic years.

      Looks aside, he was undoubtedly one of those guys—those macho men who thought they could do anything and everything better than anyone else, who always felt compelled to fix everything that was broken, who expected women to fall at their feet if they smiled at them, who expected that everything in life would always go their way.

      She’d had her fill of those guys.

      In addition to his size and his build and his chiseled jaw, Benning also had great blue eyes that were too curious for Tess’s liking. She didn’t need curious at this point in her life. If anyone found out who she was and why she was here…

      Before she reached the main building, something caught Tess’s eye and she stopped. Out by the soccer field, the new coach was talking with great animation to the new janitor. The back of her neck prickled, and it had nothing to do with the cool weather. Neither of them were quite right for their new jobs. Coach Calhoun was tough as old leather, even though he was years younger than Benning. His eyes were too sharp for a girls’ soccer coach, and he moved too quickly and precisely. He could be an athlete himself. A job as coach at a small all-girls’ school shouldn’t attract this type of man, and yet here he was.

      The new janitor was definitely out of place here. He had long, thick dark hair, intelligent dark eyes and a body that would not quit. He also had a number of tattoos on his person, most of which she could only see a corner or an edge of. One just barely peeking over his collar, another on his forearm. Both were mostly hidden by an unflattering gray uniform. From what Tess knew of Dr. Barber, the woman would rather clean the place herself than hire a man who looked like this one. Didn’t make any sense at all.

      Sean Murphy had come to work here at the same time as the other three. If not for that fact, she might not think him at all out of place. He was almost pretty, and did not have the toughness of the other three. He smiled often, unlike the others, and he actually looked like a computer nerd. A pretty computer nerd, but still…a nerd. But the fact that he had come in at the same time, combined with the fact that she’d seen Murphy talking to Benning last night after supper, raised her suspicions.

      Something was up. She wasn’t sure what, exactly, but she didn’t like it. First the break-ins, where nothing was taken, and now this testosterone invasion.

      From the soccer field, two heads lifted at once and turned her way. The two men were too far for her to see those eyes to know if they were really looking at her, and still she felt a chill. She rubbed her arms and started walking toward the main building once again.

      As long as they weren’t here for her—and how could they be?—she didn’t care what they were up to.

      Benning and his team were closed up in one small apartment—his—for the moment. No wonder Kaylor and most of the other teachers opted to live in town. These rooms assigned to the teachers were small—one-bedroom apartments with a sad little kitchenette in the main room and a very small bedroom attached. The bathroom was the size of a postage stamp.

      “We need to gather as much info as we can as quickly as possible so we can finish this up and get out of here. We don’t know anything concrete about Austin, so we’re taking nothing for granted. Not even the supposition that he’s a man.”

      “Do you know something we don’t?” Cal asked sharply. Cal would prefer to be searching for his sister Kelly. For the moment he was allowing the newly married Sadie Harlow, Flynn’s only female agent, to work that cold and frustrating case.

      “No, and that’s just the point. We don’t have nearly enough information about Austin. Take nothing for granted. It’s possible the person we’re looking for—male or female—is right here searching for something. We need to accomplish two things right off the bat. We need to fit in as if we’ve been here a long while, so as not to raise any suspicions. If Austin has been watching from a distance, maybe he won’t notice that some of the faces have changed. If we moved in here with an openly armed team, he’d see and we’d lose him for sure. Make friends, do your jobs and keep your eyes open.”

      “Number two?” Dante prompted.

      “There’s something here Austin wants. Something valuable. If he hasn’t already found what he came here for, then we need to find it first. We get started with the who. Who doesn’t belong here? Who’s not quite right? Murphy,” Flynn snapped, “you take