Tami Hoag - Deeper Than the Dead

Maybe not such a short list after all.

The garage door rolled down.

“And the lease is six hundred a month,” Janet Crane said.

“Great. That seems very reasonable,” Vince said, flashing the big smile. “Thanks for your time, Mrs. Crane,” he said, shaking her hand again. “I’ll definitely give it some thought.”

“Good!” she said, back to being a little too animated. She needed to leave him with that last good impression. “Your business would be a wonderful addition to the plaza. And I would be more than happy to show you some beautiful homes in town as well. I hope to hear from you again. Soon!”

She led the way to the front of the store, and Vince looked around at the space. Some warm yellow paint, old wooden display shelves filled with products imported from Italy, an espresso bar in the corner… As fantasies went, he thought, it was a good one.

Anne followed her students out of the building and watched them climb onto buses or into waiting cars. Not one child was being allowed to walk home.

Wendy’s father had come to pick her up. Janet Crane had come for Tommy. Anne ducked back behind the door to avoid being seen.

“Chicken,” Franny said. He grabbed her at the waist from behind and Anne gave a squeal of surprise.

“You’re just lucky I haven’t taken up a martial art,” she scolded. “You shouldn’t sneak up on women when there’s been a homicidal lunatic on the loose.”

“He probably doesn’t work at Oak Knoll Elementary,” Franny said. “Who were you hiding from?”

She rolled her eyes. “Janet Crane. I have never seen anyone more vicious or, frankly, out of her mind as she was in the office this morning. Shrieking about everyone she’s going to sue-including me, by the way.”

“You? What did you do?” Franny asked, outraged at the idea. She could have murdered someone with an axe and he still would have been the first to rush to her defense.

“I happened to be standing in the room.”

“She should kiss the ground you walk on!” He cupped a hand around his mouth and pretended to shout after the cars driving away. “C U Next Tuesday, Janet Bitch Queen!”

Anne elbowed him in the ribs, giggling. “Hush! What if Mrs. Barkow heard you?” she said, referring to the third-grade teacher pulling sidewalk monitor duty.

“Oh for God’s sake,” Franny said. “She’s a hundred and twelve. She’d probably die of excitement if somebody called her that. It’s been so long since she’s used hers, I’m sure it’s grown over by now. The Land That Time Forgot.”

“Oh my God. You are horrible!” Anne said, trying-and failing-not to laugh. “I love you!”

“Will you love me drunk?” he asked.

“Did you have a long day?”

“Honey, I teach kindergarten. Every day is a long day,” he joked. “Today I had one eat a crayon, one barf on the art table, and one poop in the sandbox and cover it up like a cat. Arnie the janitor had to put on his hazmat suit to clean it up, and then I had to explain to Garnett why we need all-new sand by Monday. How was your day?”

“Besides being threatened and verbally abused, I spent the day trying to explain to seventeen ten-year-olds why their classmate would have a severed human finger in his possession, and why people kill each other, and try to reassure them that they don’t have to worry,” she said, feeling the weight of every minute press down on her. “I spent the day wondering about Dennis Farman and what happened to him last night, and where was he today. Who’s with him? Is he alone? Is he going to get help?”

“There’s nothing you can do about Dennis Farman, honey,” Franny said soberly. “It’s not up to you.”

“But I seem to be the only one who cares,” she said. “And that breaks my heart. Garnett and the school board are only worried about liability. The sheriff’s office only deals with punishment. His parents created who he is. And social services probably won’t do anything because there’s no proof of abuse.”

“You called social services?” Franny said. “On the Farmans?”

“I felt like I had to do something,” Anne said. “At least if there’s a complaint, and they see Dennis and talk to him, maybe eventually someone will do something to get him some help.”

“You called social services on a sheriff’s deputy?” Franny said. “Are you out of your mind? Have you never seen a Women in Prison movie?”

“I’m not afraid of Frank Farman.”

“Well, you probably should be. He’ll bankrupt you with speeding tickets at the very least. Does Garnett know you did this?”

“No.”

“You need hard liquor,” Franny declared. “I need hard liquor. And lots of it.”

Anne nodded and tried to muster a smile, knowing her other option was to just lie down on the ground and cry.

“Margaritas at Cantina Maria?”

“I might have to catch up with you,” Anne said as Vince Leone pulled up to the curb and got out.

Franny sucked in breath. “Ohmygod, that’s HIM!”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Don’t wet yourself, Francis. How will I explain you?”

“Very dapper,” Franny declared, eyes on Leone. “Handsome. A little on the rugged side, but distinguished. Sharp dresser.”

“Old enough to be my father.”

“No, he isn’t. Your father is a fossil. Besides, you don’t even like guys your own age,” he reminded her. “May-December-no, really, May-mid-September. It’s romantic! You should totally sleep with him.”

“I met him yesterday!”

“Come on. Be a skank-o-potamus for once. Have some fun before Frank Farman gets you thrown in the slammer. That’s all’s I’m sayin’. You don’t have to keep him, honey, but for God’s sake, kick the tires and take a ride around the block!”

Anne gave him a stern look. “Shut up and do NOT follow me.”

She had to admit, as she walked toward him, the man was attractive. He needed to put on a few pounds. The gray suit was a little loose, but it draped expensively over his lanky frame, and the color complemented the steel gray in his hair and mustache.

He was also an FBI agent using her to spy on a family via a ten-year-old boy, she reminded herself.

“Agent-Detective-”

“Vince,” he said, stopping just a little too close to her, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Anne said. “We have no dismembered body parts today.”

“I’m glad for you. How was your day?”

“I’m planning to take up drinking-only because it’s cheaper and more socially acceptable than heroin.”

“And legal,” he added. “Provided you don’t try to operate heavy machinery. Do you need help with that? I can drive a Volkswagen as well as anybody.”

“Hello! Francis Goodsell. Anne’s sidekick and best friend in the whole wide world.”

Anne felt herself blush as Franny stepped between them to shake Leone’s hand.

Vince grinned. “Nice to meet you, Francis. Vince Leone. Anne’s would-be suitor.”

“How have I missed seeing you around town?” Franny asked. “I know absolutely everybody worth knowing in Oak Knoll.”

“I travel a lot,” Vince said.

“Domestically or abroad?”

“Franny…,” Anne said through gritted teeth.

Vince seemed happy to play along. “Both.”

“An international man of mystery,” Franny said. “I like that. And are your intentions honorable?”

“Franny!”

“Absolutely.”

Franny frowned. “Well, we’ll have to do something about that. This girl needs to have some fun.”

Anne turned him by the shoulders and gave him a push toward the building. “Good-bye, Francis.”

Franny grinned over his shoulder, his eyes disappearing into twin crescents above his cheeks. “Nice meeting you, Vince!”