was not going to make this any easier and Nika was tired of working with egos. She’d survived the ugliest breakup of her life last year and, in retrospect, saw that her ex had been egocentric. Sometimes she wished she could break up with people she worked with. Like this Everlock dude. For once couldn’t someone she had to deal with be reasonable, the yin to her yang? His tone made her want to scream. Instead she remained silent, waiting for him to speak.
“That’s fitting, because whoever it is has a lot of hate issues for the Rainbows. And while I appreciate you’ve been sent here to do your job, you have to understand that I’m the one who knows these kids. I’ll figure out who it is.”
“Are you really fine on your own? The messages have gotten more personal, aimed at you. If the kook who left the most recent message decides to come in here with a weapon, you think you can handle it? Keep all your students safe?”
“You bet your...bottom dollar I can, Nika. I don’t believe it’ll come to that, though. Do you, really?” As he asked she saw him check her out again. His gaze lingered on her breasts before he made an assessing sweep, pausing as he looked at her lower legs. Did he think she had a weapon holstered to her calf? She gripped her designer bag, courtesy of the local thrift shop frequented by teens, tightly over her shoulder, ready to retrieve her pistol if need be.
“I try to never underestimate a criminal, Mr. Everlock.”
“Stop thinking I’m your enemy. As long as I’m in the classroom, my students are safe.” His confidence didn’t come across as boastful but matter-of-fact.
She forced her fingers to relax from the leather bag’s handle, rested her hip on a student desk. Her face was hot and she damned her pale skin, which she knew had to be obviously red. “I don’t think that at all. You were right. We should save our talk for later, either after hours or at the station.”
“So Nika is your real name?” His eyes were closer to jade than emerald, she decided.
“Of course. It’s much easier to keep up the ruse with my real first name. ‘Collins’ is not my surname, though. Fortunately most of the students I’ve met haven’t asked for my last name.”
“They’re too busy studying for semester finals, dreaming about the holiday break and figuring out who to take to the Silver Bells Ball in a few weeks. At least, this crowd is. My other classes are mostly doing well, but the last class of the day, the General Science group, is struggling. I’m lucky if I get half the class to even attend.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Just so you know, I’ll be coming in and out of your different classes if that’s okay.”
“How are you going to explain that to the students? Won’t they expect you to attend a variety of subjects, just like they do?”
She shook her head. “I’m telling them what you heard here. I’m a transfer who only needs to clock classroom time for the state of Pennsylvania so that I can get my degree by May. Which class I do it in doesn’t matter. And since I’ve received several scholarship offers, and want to major in chemistry, it makes perfect sense that I want to spend my time here.”
“I don’t suppose you ever took chemistry?”
“In high school, and one semester in college. I wasn’t a big fan of it, though. I do know my way around a meth lab, unfortunately.” If her chemistry teacher had looked as good as Mitch Everlock she might have considered becoming a pharmacist. Not that she’d tell him that.
“Is there anything we need to go over? Do you have any questions about what I’ve been dealing with?”
“That’s best left for outside class hours, don’t you think? Is there any way you can meet me at SVPD headquarters after school today?”
“I was going to head over there now to file my final report about this last threat, but I suppose I can kill two birds with one visit later. What time?”
His dark hair and brows were the perfect contrast to his eyes and she was intrigued by the lines that fanned out across his forehead, his deep smile lines, the sexy cleft in his chin.
“Um, five okay with you?”
She’d never been the kind of student who was hot for her teachers, but Mitch Everlock might be her first illicit crush. Not that she’d do anything about it. Not yet, anyway.
“Is there something on my face, Nika?” His voice was stern but there was a glint of humor in his eyes.
“No, of course not. I was admiring your tie.” She nodded at the pattern of dancing laboratory Santas holding beakers and test tubes.
He grinned and opened his mouth to reply but the words she leaned in to hear were cut off by a loud crash and then a thump on the classroom floor.
“Down!” he shouted. She went to grab him but his reflexes were quicker and she found herself facedown on the linoleum floor, the weight of an extremely fit man on top of her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a large rock with a piece of paper wrapped around it. The silence was broken only by two distinct plinks of broken glass as they dislodged from the window frame and fell to the floor. The student desk she’d been leaning on had toppled over, covering her legs.
Mitch lifted himself slightly, giving her room to breathe while still protecting her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Was it only the rock? No explosive?”
“Yeah. Stay down while I investigate.”
As soon as he was up and on his feet she jumped to hers. He gave her a scowl but didn’t stop her from running to the broken window, scanning the parking lot below.
“No one. The son of a bitch is fast, and has a very good throwing arm.” Mitch looked poised to jump through his second-story classroom window.
She looked at the rock. “Do you have latex gloves in here?”
He turned to reply. “On the back counter, in the purple boxes.” She met his eyes and gave him one quick nod. Not in response to his directions but as an acknowledgment from one LEA to another. Because there was no way Mitch Everlock was only a chemistry teacher. His reflexes, his calm demeanor in the face of danger, weren’t natural. He’d been trained, and had kept up his training—this couldn’t all be leftover Marine Corps skills.
“Maybe it’s my turn to ask you who you are, Mr. Everlock.”
“Save it for after school, Nika.”
“Fair enough.” With the gloves on, she unwrapped the rock. She could feel Mitch’s body heat as he leaned in to read the message with her.
Ragged red letters spelled out “End the Rainbows or Die with Regret.”
“They’re focused, I’ll grant them that.” She turned the paper over and saw that the ink had soaked through the ubiquitous copy paper. She brought it to her nose and sniffed. And immediately bit back a gag. “This doesn’t smell like paint.”
“We’re waiting on analysis of the ink that was on my whiteboard. But my bet’s on pig’s blood. There are plenty of pork farms in the area that it could be from.”
“Who’s doing the analysis?
