“I don’t know. Inside somewhere?”
“She have a favorite teacher?”
“Yes. Mr. Huth, her English teacher. Wait, there she is.”
KT arrowed through the clumps of students toward a slender girl with jet-black hair, an ancient Sex Pistols T-shirt under an unzipped black hoodie with a line of safety pins down the arms, seriously shredded jeans, and black high-top Doc Martens with bright red laces. She leaned against one of the concrete pillars, talking animatedly with a group of boys and girls decked out in similar outfits. Punk rock was back, apparently. At least in middle school.
“Ellie. You didn’t get my message?”
“Uh, no?” The girl smirked at her friends, sarcasm dripping.
KT grabbed her arm. “We have to go.”
The girl pulled her arm back, eyebrows scrunched in scorn. “I’m going to Susanna’s house. We have a project due Monday.”
Although connected to the school and the community center, the covered entryway was wide open on the other two sides. Behind him, the scrum of students and the cars with waiting parents blocked his view. Looking ahead, past Ellie and her friends, Peter could see all the way through to the next block. Partially screened by parked cars, a gray hatchback ghosted past.
“This isn’t good,” he told KT softly. “We need to get moving.”
Eleanor looked up at him. “Who’sthismeatball?”
Her friends stared at Peter with all the disdain available to eighth graders, which was considerable. He was pretty sure “meatball” was not a positive term.
Peter gave the girl a smile and took her elbow. “I’ll explain on the way. Our ride’s on the other side of the park.”
“Get your handsoffme.” She tried to pull away but he didn’t let her. “Let me go or I’ll scream my head off.”
Peter let her go, then looked at her mother. “Can I tell her?”
Ellie said, “Tell herwhat, Mom? Whoisthis guy?”
KT gave Peter a nod.
He stepped between Ellie and her friends and leaned close. Despite the punk rock outfit and attitude, she smelled like shampoo and fruit roll-ups. Voice low, he said, “Shut up and listen, kid. Don’t say anything. Somebody tried to kill your mom about half an hour ago. They’re still out there. You need to come with us. Now.”
Ellie’s eyes widened. She looked at her mom and hissed, “Is he for real?”
KT held out her hand. “Unfortunately, yes. Can we go now?”
Ellie took the hand. The attitude was gone and suddenly she was just a thirteen-year-old girl, scared and wanting her mother.
5
Peter led them through the entryway to the community center entrance, then down a hallway to the exit doors on the far side of the building. He peeked out through the falling rain, didn’t see the gray hatchback or anyone wearing tape-wrapped sneakers.
He’d never seen the gunman’s face, just the mask and the Red Sox cap. If the guy was smart enough to track them here, he was probably smart enough to take them off to blend in. Peter was hoping he wasn’t smart enough to change his shoes. If he had another pair, he probably wouldn’t have worn those cheap sneakers to begin with.
If the cops had arrived, they were still out of sight. They weren’t in the line of waiting cars. Maybe they’d come up on the next block. Although subtlety was never the strong suit of local law enforcement. It rarely paid off for them.
Behind him, Ellie still held her mother’s hand. “Why is somebody trying to kill you?”
“I don’t know.” KT’s voice was quiet. “They put a note through ourmail slot while I was driving you to school. And a man was waiting by my car this afternoon. He had a gun. Peter scared him off.”
“Holy shit,” the girl said under her breath.
“Eleanor Grace. Language.”
“Mom. Someone’s trying to kill us and you’re worried about me swearing?”
