Шарлин Харрис - Small Kingdoms and Other Stories

Anne DeWitt (originally Twyla Burnside) had been forced into retirement because of a fatal incident at the training course she’d run, which taught intensive survival training for the best and brightest… which could translate as “toughest and most lethal.” She’d been given a new name, a new past, and a job at Travis High School because there were strings her agency could pull in Colleton County. Plus, the probability was low that anyone would recognize Anne in North Carolina. She had a new nose, a new set of diplomas, a new haircut and hair color, a family, and a very different wardrobe.

After a month in her new job, Anne had loved the challenge, to her surprise. She began laying out her personal program to make Travis High School shine. Her high school was going to be the best public high school in the whole damn state.

There was one obstacle: Principal Delia Snyder. Snyder had not shared Anne’s vision. Furthermore, Snyder was involved with a married teacher, and that was bad for Travis High. So Delia Snyder had a carefully engineered tragic suicide.

Anne had many skills.

With her customary discipline, Anne kept her mind occupied until ten minutes before ten. Then she opened the locked drawer in her credenza, removed her purse, took out a Glock and put it in her top right drawer, and returned the purse to its accustomed place.

At 9:55 a.m., Anne switched on a recorder in a drawer in her desk, leaving the drawer partially open.

Promptly at ten, Christy appeared in the doorway. “Tom Wilson to see you,” she said, doing a creditable job of sounding calm. She stood aside to let Anne’s alleged ex-husband enter.

Anne had been curious to see what her first husband looked like. She found herself disappointed. Wilson was about Anne’s height (five foot eight), with sandy hair, black-rimmed glasses, and a slight build. Anne had never seen this man before. Not in this life, or in her previous one.

If Tom Wilson had proved to be a graduate of her training school, she would have had to kill him as soon as possible.

Now she had options.

Christy pulled Anne’s office door almost shut behind her with a last, lingering, look and a vehement nod, meant to reassure Anne that the security guard was on hand. The man calling himself Tom Wilson sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “No kiss for your husband?” he said. “Anne, you haven’t changed at all.”

Anne said, “I was only married once, and you’re not him.”

“You’re going for total denial,” he said. “Too bad.”

“Why claim to have been married to me?”

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d aged.” The smile faded from his face. “You have. I was lying when I said you hadn’t changed.”

Anne shook her head, thinking about how to handle this.

“You’re thinking, How ungallant he is! ” Tom Wilson said. “And you’re right, Anne.”

Anne had been wondering if she could break his neck and cram his body in her personal bathroom. With some regret, Anne discarded this idea. “Tom Wilson” needed to leave here in plain sight, visibly intact and healthy. The security cameras had recorded his entrance.

She said, “Who told you to come here?”

“You’ll find out,” Wilson said. “I’ve made friends, see? They know who you are.”

This was his real face: this small man with his bad James Cagney imitation was mentally disturbed.

While she debated her next course of action, Wilson got up and left without another word.

“I got some clear pictures,” Holt said as they walked around the track together. At least once a week, weather permitting, the baseball coach and the principal walked together around the school track at lunchtime.

“Did you recognize him?” she asked, without much hope.

Holt shook his head. “Sorry. But his car was a rental car. He’s not a local.”

Anne assumed that this whole incident had something to do with her former life. She’d had trouble before with a relative of one of her former students. He’d surprised Anne as she was getting ready for work one day.

No one had ever happened across the body.

But that incident had confirmed what she already knew: it was possible to uncover her new identity if you were very determined and had connections within their community.

“You still in touch with David Angola?” she asked Holt. Angola, who’d come through the ranks with Anne, had been Holt’s instructor in the west coast version of Anne’s Michigan training school. He’d sent Holt to keep an eye on Anne after Holt had gotten drummed out of his service for his own mistakes.

Holt nodded. “I’ll ask him if he knows the guy.”

Anne looked up at Holt, a boulder of a man, her hands in her sweater pockets to make her stance look calm. The spring buds had popped up on just about everything. A cool breeze blew her hair around her face. She propped her arms on top of the perimeter fence, and Holt stood beside her, as relaxed as she was. They scanned their kingdom together.

The cheerleaders, now between seasons, were running conditioning drills by the practice field bleachers. Their sponsor watched them like a hawk. Anne spotted a familiar red head. “Madison Bead,” Anne said. “Her grade point average is 89. She could bring it up.”

“She’s not ambitious,” Holt said, dismissing Madison and her grades. “Listen, do you want me to take care of this Wilson guy?”

“So much,” she said, with an intensity that almost surprised her. “I just can’t figure out his goal. He didn’t ask me for anything—sex, money, a confession. He’s clearly unbalanced. And he only called me Anne. Who could have sent him?”

They resumed their walk in silence.

“He seems to have only wanted to shake me up,” Anne said.

“He’s done a better job than I would have believed,” Holt said. “You’ve got to stand up to him better than this.”

Anne might have enjoyed being angry at Holt, but she understood the sense of what he was saying.

“You’re right,” Anne said. She noticed Holt’s shoulders relax. “I wonder if he’s actually staying in town?”

“I’ll ask a private eye I know from Raleigh to check all the motels. I’d do it myself, but until we know more about this asshole, I don’t want to be on his radar.” If they’d been alone, Anne would have kissed him, but the two were absolutely discreet in public. Anne had never thought of Holt as her lover. They had sex and they had a common goal.

At Anne’s conference with the school nurse that afternoon, she began to lay some groundwork for the future. After they’d talked about the Lanny Wells situation (Lanny had emotional problems and he had decided visiting the school nurse every day was a good way to deal with them), Anne said tentatively, “Lois, there’s something I wondered if you could advise me on. Offer me some insights.” The door between the offices was open because Anne wanted to be sure Christy overheard this.

“Of course,” Lois Krueger responded, astonished and flattered. Up until now, the nurse’s opinion of Anne had been neutral, which had been easy for Anne to read. But Lois sometimes felt that the teachers didn’t give her credit for her knowledge; Anne had seen that too.

“This man I’ve never seen before showed up here yesterday claiming to be my first husband,” Anne confided. Lois’s eyes widened. Amazingly, Christy had kept mum.

“That’s so strange,” Lois said slowly. “You hadn’t… you didn’t know him?”

“I’ve only been married once,” Anne said. “After Brad died, I felt that I would never marry again.” She looked down, her face sad. “But time has helped,” Anne admitted, looking back up with a brave smile. Lois nodded, since the whole school knew that Coach Halsey and Anne DeWitt were going out together.