Roz Cooper was a spunky, sweaty brunette in her early sixties wearing knee socks and guzzling a protein shake in the passenger seat. At her request, Riley had picked her up at the gym. “I appreciate you driving, dear. I usually have to wait an hour or two after leg day before I regain the use of my legs enough to drive home.”
“No problem,” Riley said.
According to Mrs. Penny’s questionable intel, Roz was great-aunt to Kory Cooper, victim of Lance the Bully. Roz and Kory were related to Mrs. Penny in some complicated way that sounded more like a family shrub than a family tree.
After the fun everyone else seemed to be having on their cases, Riley had decided she might as well save a nice kid from a bully. But it was weird being in her vehicle without hearing Uncle Jimmy’s chatter in her head. It made her sad.
“So, Roz, tell me about your great-niece,” she said. “What kind of trouble is she having with this Lance kid?”
“Kory is a super nerd, and I say that with love,” Roz explained. “She’s in seventh grade. Smart. Small for her age. This Lance prick moved here at the beginning of the school year and was forcing her to do his homework for a couple of months before she got sick of it and got him a failing grade on an English essay. He’s been making her life a living hell ever since.”
“Have you tried talking to the school?” Riley asked.
“Her parents have. I have. Lance is the entitled son of the vice principal and the pain-in-the-ass band director who act like they’re some kind of ‘super couple’ that rules the district with an iron fist. We’re at our wits’ end. This Lance is dangerous, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get him out of this school.”
“Understood. How are you and Mrs. Penny related again?” Riley asked.
“Her daughter-in-law’s niece is my cousin. Oh! There she is, my little Kory!” Roz waved out the window to a small girl making her way across the grass toward them.
Kory was shorter than pretty much every other student pouring out of the building in search of freedom. She had brown skin, thick dark hair pulled up in a high pouf, and purple glasses. She was wearing the standard student uniform of a baggy hooded sweatshirt and leggings. She raised a hand to wave back, then hefted her overfilled backpack higher on her little shoulders.
“She’s so cute. Who would pick on her?” Jasmine wondered.
“Lance is an only child and has never heard the wordno. Last month he stuffed a freshman in the ice maker in the cafeteria, and everyone was too scared to tell on him. Poor kid was blue and shaking so hard he lost two fillings before the custodian found him. He was the one who got detention for a month while Lance’s parents named him Student of the Month.”
“He sounds like a peach,” Jasmine said dryly.
“We’ll talk to Kory and get a little background information. After that, we’ll get into why he’s lashing out, figure out what his weaknesses are, dig up any dirt on him. Then we’ll try reasoning with him,” Riley explained, trying to sound like a professional who intimidated teenagers often.
“And if that doesn’t work?” Roz asked uneasily.
“Then we snap him like a wishbone,” Jasmine said. “Trust me. Reducing teenage boys to tears was my superpower from ages eight to eighteen. I mostly practice on men over thirty now, but it’s always good to return to your roots.”
“I can’t thank you two enough,” Roz said. “This really means the world to my entire family.”
It was right about then that Kory took a header and went sprawling into the grass over someone’s foot.
“Did that teacher just trip her?” Riley asked in disbelief.
“That’s Lance. The mustache and ’roid rage make him look older,” Roz growled. “If I could walk right now, I’d go over there and kick him right in the crotch.”
“We’ll take care of this,” Jasmine said, jumping out of the back seat.
Riley followed her. “We can’t assault a teenager, Jas. At least not on school grounds with all these witnesses.”
“When I’m done with this punk, he’s going to beg to be homeschooled,” she said, storming toward the overgrown teen who was standing over Kory and laughing.
“Jesus! How many grades did you fail? All of them?” Jasmine demanded, stomping right into Lance’s face as Riley helped Kory to her feet.
He gave them both a smirking once-over. “Who the hell are you? Somebody’s grandmas?”
It was official. Lance “The Dick” was a dead man. Riley gripped Jasmine’s shoulder. “Not on school grounds. Remember?” she whispered.
“Yeah, not on school grounds,” Lance’s friend, Pale Skinny Guy with Body Odor, said in a high falsetto.
“I forgot how much I hated school,” Riley said.
“Did they even have school back in the dinosaur ages?”
