Time Bomb Read Online Free PDF Page B

lives,” said Ramon, “and kill his fuckin’
house
!”
    The teacher said, “Language!”
    The chubby girl didn’t look reassured. I said, “What’s the matter?”
    “Actually,” she said, “we can’t do nothing. We’re kids. If people wanna be mean to us all the time, they can.”
    “Honey, no one wants to be mean to you,” said the teacher.
    The chubby girl looked at her.
    “Everyone likes you, Cecelia,” said the teacher. “Every-one likes all of you.”
    The chubby girl shook her head and began to cry.
     
    By the time I finished, the rain had abated. I made a stop at Linda Overstreet’s office, but it was locked and no one answered my knock. As I left the building I saw Milo in the yard, near the cordoned storage shed. He was talking to a slim, dark-haired man in a well-cut blue suit. He noticed me and waved me over.
    “Alex, this is Lieutenant Frisk, Anti-Terrorist Division. Lieutenant, Dr. Alex Delaware, the clinical psychologist who’ll be working with the kids.”
    Frisk checked me over and said, “How’s it going, Doctor?” in a tone that let me know he didn’t much care.
    “Fine.”
    “Good to hear it.” He flashed a barrel cuff and consulted his Rolex. He was young and tan, the dark hair permed in a neat cap, and wore a mustache that had taken a long time to trim. The blue suit was expensive, the shirt Turnbull & Asser or a knockoff. The tie that bisected it was heavy silk patterned with dancing blue parallelograms on a background of deep burgundy. His eyes matched the parallelograms; they never stopped moving.
    He turned to Milo and said, “I’ll let you know. After-noon, Doctor.” He walked away.
    “Spiffy dresser,” I said. “Looks like a TV cop.”
    “Young man on the way up,” said Milo. “Masters in public administration from S.C., good connections, D-Three by the age of thirty, promoted to loot three years later.”
    “Is he taking over the case?”
    “You just heard—he’ll let me know.”
    We walked across the schoolyard.
    “So,” he said, “how’d it really go?”
    “Not bad, really. I managed to meet briefly with all the classes. Most of the kids seem to be reacting normally.”
    “Meaning?”
    “Meaning lots of anxiety, some anger. It’s the anger I tried to harness—get them to feel more in control. I told the teachers to contact the parents and prepare them for possible appetite loss, sloop problems, psychosomatic stuff, clinginess, some school phobia. Some of the kids may need individual treatment, but a group approach should work for most of them. The important thing was getting to them quickly—you done good.”
    He said, “What’d you think of Ms. Principal?”
    “Feisty lady.”
    “Texas lady,” he said. “Cop’s kid—daddy was a Ranger, brought his work home. She knows this scene by heart.”
    “She didn’t mention any of that to me.”
    “Why should she? With you she probably talked
feelings.”
    I
said
, “Her
main feeling right now is anger. Plenty of it simmering beneath the surface. It’s been building since she got here—she’s been dealing with lots of crap and getting very little support. She tell you about the vandalism?”
    He frowned. “Yeah. First I’d heard of it. The School Board reported it directly to downtown—it never went any further.”
    “Bad P.R.?” I said.
    “Perish the thought.”
    “Sounds like the school’s been embroiled in politics since they brought the kids in. Think the sniping was political?”
    “At this point, who knows?”
    “Latch or Massengil have any theories? About being targets themselves?”
    “I wouldn’t know,” he said. “Kenny Frisk and the ATD boys did all the interrogation. Hush-hush behind closed doors. Afterwards Kenny comes out and informs the rest of us peons that official policy is tight lips. All press re-leases to emanate from ATD.
Informational infractions
will be severely dealt with.”
    I searched his face for signs of anger. All I saw was a big, white mask.
    A