The Babysitter. Nancy Bush
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No one at River Glen PD believed Emma’s attack had anything to do with the two babysitters’ deaths in Vancouver and Gresham. The prevailing theory was that it was a burglar or druggie looking for items to steal. That Emma, after the boys finished their scaring, had settled down and turned off the lights, that maybe she hadn’t quite closed the front door, because there was no sign of forced entry, even though the boys assured the authorities she had, or maybe it had been the creaking window that had allowed access . . . that whoever had come in had been surprised at finding Emma, who might have believed it was one of her classmates and foolishly decided to confront them . . .
His uncomfortable thoughts brought him back to the present and where he was and what had precipitated that uncomfortable trip down memory lane. Jamie Whelan. Emma’s sister. She looked a lot more like Emma than his ex-wife did. It annoyed him that Howie could be right: he clearly had a type.
“What’s wrong?” a girl’s voice asked. She walked through the media room door to stand beside him in the hallway.
He was about to tell her that once she left, she couldn’t go back in—the rules were specific and strict—when he saw it was Jamie’s daughter, Harley. He started to warn her not to venture into the hall through his door when the vice principal, Adam Wellesley, was suddenly there. “Miss? Miss? Are you leaving?”
Harley turned to give Wellesley a hard look. Something about her, too, reminded him of Emma. Not the Emma of the past, who was bold but polite to adults, but the Emma of today, at least the last time he’d seen her, with her lack of affect and inability to pick up social cues.
“I was talking to Mr. Haynes, who brought me to this event,” Harley said in a careful tone.
There was a warning in there, which Wellesley chose to ignore, or was too obtuse himself to give it any credit. “Well, get back inside. Otherwise you have to go,” Wellesley sniped.
Harley looked at Cooper. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.
“Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“You’re glowering. Or you were. Did something happen?”
“Miss?” Wellesley wasn’t giving up.
“Let’s step back in,” Cooper said, and Harley looked at Wellesley and jumped back inside while Cooper stepped into the semidarkened room lit only with the current DJ’s black lights.
The rumor that the school had a drug problem was one shared by more parents than just Laura. The teachers and administrators were on high alert as well. Cooper had been told to watch all the students carefully. Cooper didn’t doubt that drugs were around, but so far, he hadn’t seen any blatant users, nor had he smelled the skunky scent of marijuana. If anyone asked him, his guess would be alcohol as the substance of choice of the high schoolers, though he hadn’t seen anyone in particular he thought might be inebriated. It was just more his own history that clued him in. When he was in school, it was damn near a rite of passage.
As if belatedly realizing her friend wasn’t with her, Marissa came charging over. “What happened?” she asked Harley. “Come on. We’re all still talking with . . . uh . . . well, just come on.”
“I thought it might be better to . . . y’know . . . stay out of the line of fire.”
Marissa half-laughed. “Maybe he just likes you,” she said, jerking her head to get Harley to come back into the center of the crowd.
Harley followed after her a bit reluctantly. Cooper wondered exactly what had happened, but then one of the parent volunteers, a woman named Caroline, hovered by him, initiating conversation. She’d been hovering all night, as a matter of fact. Cooper wasn’t dense. She was interested.
You should ask her out. Forget your unhealthy obsession with Emma Whelan and her sister, which is based on fantasy. Get out there. Make a move.
He made a point of making direct eye contact while he smiled. Caroline’s own smile widened into joy and disbelief.
Cooper looked over the crowd of heads, trying to pick out Harley and Marissa, and then saw that they were on the stage.
“Want a popcorn ball?” Caroline asked him, holding out an orange one.
“No, I—”
A collective shriek suddenly ripped through the crowd, so loud it drowned out the music.
Cooper glanced over to see Harley teetering at the edge the stage, arms pinwheeling, a guy in a Michael Myers mask with his hands around her neck.
Before Cooper could move, she was falling backward off the stage.
Chapter Nine
Cooper was halfway to the stage, running like a madman, when Harley landed on a sea of hands of students who held her up. Everyone was shrieking in delight. Once down, Harley crossed her arms over her chest as the students passed her across the top of the crowd, while Marissa, face to the ceiling, her hands already folded across her chest, was pushed backward off the stage by a guy in a Grim Reaper outfit onto the now freed and waiting hands below.
“Déjà-fucking-vu,” Robbie Padilla said under his breath to Cooper, his gaze on the Michael Myers masked figure who had threatened and then pushed Harley, when Vice Principal Wellesley’s booming voice over the loudspeaker caught everyone’s attention: “Stop what you’re doing right now!”
The lights came up in a flood and the boys were caught before they could scramble around enough to hide their masks. There were others in “killer” masks on the stage as well. Jason from Friday the 13th in his hockey mask. Freddy Krueger from A Nightmare on Elm Street. Dracula. Varying and assorted zombies, and even Chucky, the vicious “doll” from the series with his name. Senior boys, mostly, Cooper thought, recognizing some of them. Apparently, they’d decided to make Autumn Daze a Halloween party all on their own.
“Call the police!” one of the parents yelled, and others echoed that sentiment. It took close to twenty minutes for the crowd to realize that Cooper, who was already there, was the police. Wellesley and several other chaperones took the miscreants into a back room, where the vice principal could be heard giving them the lecture of a lifetime.
The scare effectively ended the mixer. While Cooper became in charge of crowd control, the DJ was asked to pack up his gear and, when he was convinced that he would be paid in full, did so. By that time there was still an hour or so to go before some of the kids’ parents were due to pick them up. Cooper’s offer to stay on the premises rather than call all the parents was gratefully accepted by the harried chaperones and staff. Some students were picked up, mostly from the younger classes, and left, but almost all the upperclassmen stayed on.
As soon as they were safely on their feet, Cooper had immediately checked with Harley and Marissa, both of whom shrugged off his concern. Marissa, in fact, appeared to be on cloud nine. She was all a-bubble about having been singled out by the seniors, though from what Cooper had seen, it was Harley who’d been the chosen “victim.” Had it been an honor? Marissa was definitely treating it as such, and Harley was being a pretty good sport about it, especially considering it was her first day. But maybe she’d been in on the prank? Still, there were twin spots of color high on her cheeks and her