“He did apologize for that,” Allie said half-heartedly.
To tell the truth, the days since Mr. Williams’s body was discovered had passed in such a blur that up until now, she hadn’t really given Sam Fratto much thought.
Well, at least in the daylight hours.
She had seen him a handful of times in the halls, and at the assembly yesterday, but other than a brief nod, they hadn’t spoken. Kind of like high school all over again. Probably best to change the subject and keep Sam where he belonged—in the past. “How are things with you and Mark? Any better?”
Laney took a nibble of her cookie, as though stalling for time. “I could tell you better if we actually crossed paths once in a while. The whole issue has become moot since I’ve hardly seen my husband for weeks—let alone been intimate with him.”
“He is a fire fighter. His hours have always been crazy. I wouldn’t read anything into it.”
“His regular hours are crazy. Then he went and signed up to be on a paramedic rotation, and now it’s unreal. I barely see him three hours a week.”
“Why did he do that?” Allie got up and slid the last cookie sheet into the oven.
“He said he did it to save up for our future.” Laney didn’t sound particularly convinced, and Allie didn’t really blame her.
“Mom?” A voice echoed in from the foyer, and the front door slammed. Allie’s daughter skipped in.
“Hey sweetie,” she managed to say before her six-year old flung herself into her arms. She saw the wistful look in Laney’s eyes and sent her an understanding smile over the top of Violet’s head.
“Hi, Aunt Laney. Guess what, Mom?” Violet slid onto the barstool next to her aunt. “Dad and I went skating at the parkway today, and I didn’t fall even once! It was so-oo cool,” she said with a slight lisp as the air hissed out of the area where her right front tooth had been.
The tall figure of Allie’s ex-husband, Ryan, appeared at the threshold of the kitchen a moment later. He came to the counter, grabbed a cookie, and took a bite. “Yum. I always did love it when you had a bad day.”
She scowled and ignored his comment. “You’re both taking some of these with you. My hips will thank you.”
She also sent out a silent thank you to the universe for sending her such a timely reminder of why she really, really was not interested in romance.
It always ended in disaster.
…
A heavy, musty odor assailed Allie when she pushed open the door to the archive room. With quick fingers, she found the light switch and flipped it. The lights flashed a couple times before staying on.
The archive room at St. Andrew’s Academy was located in the basement of the old admin building. Despite its hundred year old history, the room was surprisingly clean and organized. Anything of significant value had disappeared decades ago.
The heavy door wanted to close behind her, something the odor and her nerves wouldn’t allow. She kicked a few heavy boxes over to the door to hold it open in an attempt to get some kind of air flow.
Twenty minutes in, she had managed to locate and stack four boxes of assorted videos and photos onto the dolly. She’d spied two more boxes along the back wall that, from their labels, looked like something she might want. Unfortunately, a long, heavy trunk blocked access to them. Maybe she could climb over the trunk and slide the boxes across the top? Or come back with someone who had more muscle.
Satisfied for now, she maneuvered the dolly through the room, careful to keep an arm on top to prevent the boxes from tipping over. Their odd sizes made balancing them tricky. Because she planned on returning after she dropped these off upstairs, she left the lights on and the door unlocked. School had ended an hour ago, so it was unlikely any of the students would find their way down here.
Plus, the room could stand a little fresh air.
She wheeled the dolly down the hall and to the elevator. Darn. She’d removed the key from the elevator panel so she could unlock the door to the archive room. And now the elevator had been called somewhere above. She tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for the old elevator to respond, and a few minutes later, the loud mechanical noises told her it was on its way.
The doors creaked open, and she slid the key into the front panel, wheeled in the dolly, and waited again for the ancient car to make the slow trip up to the second floor. Instead of depositing the boxes in her own classroom, she continued down the hall and around the corner until she reached the journalism room. She’d alread
y decided it would be easier to carve out a space for the project here rather than her crowded classroom.
Unfortunately, drawing near to her destination, she had become sloppy. When she pushed the dolly through the door, a box corner caught on the jamb.
Crap.
She tried to save the boxes as they tipped forward in a race for the floor and was relieved when an extra set of hands appeared to secure them upward again. Mess averted, she looked up and was able to see who had been her rescuer.
Damn.