Background
Miranda Jessup Buckley is back and in trouble again.
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So far, Miranda is raising the son of her ex-lover, Dougie. When Dougie disappeared, she was able to obtain temporary custody. But now, Dougie has returned, and she is afraid he is back for his son. Meanwhile, the boy's teacher is murdered and all signs point to Dougie as the one who killed him. Now, Miranda has to prove Dougie's innocence.
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Day four of Dougie's hospital stay there is a glimmer of hope. He opens his eyes, albeit, briefly. The doctor said we should be cautiously optimistic. Waylon didn't pay attention to the word cautiously, instead he is over the moon happy.
"He's gonna be okay, Miranda," Waylon says as soon as I walk into the hospital room. "He opened his eyes. He's gonna be okay."
"Did he say anything?" I ask, shrugging off my jacket before sitting down in the chair next to the bed.
"The boy," a young nurse says. He opened his eyes and said the boy. She nods towards Waylon. "He must know you've been here the whole time."
I smile at Waylon. "That's awesome," I say to him as he looks over at me hopefully. "Keep doing whatever it is you're doing. It must be working."
We talk about school and I finally tell him that his teacher is dead. He frowns. "What else can happen? First Dad, then Mr. Tomlin. What happened to him?"
"He was murdered, Waylon. Your dad didn't have an accident. I think whoever killed Mr. Tomlin, tried to kill your father. Someone called the Sheriff's department and said they saw your daddy hitting Mr. Tomlin's car with a hammer."
Waylon shakes his head quickly. "No way. He'd never do something like that. You know that, Miranda. He might be flaky and irresponsible, but he wouldn't ever kill anyone."
I hold up my hands. "I know, Waylon. I'm gonna try to make sense of this whole thing. Someone hated Mr. Tomlin. They had to have hated him for them to do this. Is there anyone in your school who had a problem with him?"
Waylon shrugs. "If you weren't his pet, he could be a real jerk. Once Terence left the class, he was really mad. Seemed like the teachers were okay with him. I did see a blond lady going off on him in the parking lot one day."
"Do you know who it was? The lady, I mean."
He shakes his head. "No."
I wait until Waylon is enveloped in his homework before I make up the excuse to go get us some dinner. "I'm gonna grab some Chinese food and I'll be back."
He lets me know what he wants, and I promise to be back in thirty minutes.
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Thank goodness they still make telephone books. I look under Evanoff only to find three different people. Luckily, they are all within five miles of each other. I drive to the first address and sit outside, waiting for someone to come out. After five minutes, I decide to go knock.
I can hear voices coming through the closed door and I try to make up a quick story to explain why I'm standing here on their stoop. An old man opens the door and smiles, revealing more gum than teeth.
"Is this the Evanoff residence?" I ask.
"Yes, ma'am, I'm Ed Evanoff. And you are?"
"Miranda Jessup," I say, leaving off my last name. "I was wondering if there is a Terence Evanoff here?"
He shakes his head, and without the smile ever leaving his face, says, "He's my grandson. He and his mom live over on Reacher Court. I could call over there for you, if'n you want me to."
I shake my head and thank him. "I'll just head on over there. Thank you for your help."
I hop back in my car and drive the three blocks to Reacher. I spot Terence dragging the trash can down to the curb. I don't bother to stop, just pull up in front of the house and roll down the passenger window. "Terence?"
He pauses and looks up quizzically. "Yeah?"
"I'm Miranda. I met you last week at school."
He glances toward the house and I see a blond woman opening the storm door. She comes out, staring hard at me.
There is no time to waste. I need a good story and I need it now. "I'm writing a story on budding scientists. Your name was given to me by Elaine Buckley. Well, not just yours, but several students. I'd like to talk to you if I can."
The blond strides across the lawn, looking none to friendly. "Can I help you?" She looks into the car, taking in the trash and clutter.
"Well, I'm Miranda Jessup. I'm doing a story on budding scientists. I was hoping to talk to Terence."
"Isn't it a bit odd that you would just show up and not call ahead."
I keep that fake smile on my face, fighting the heat that is suddenly overwhelming. "I get that a lot. I just get so excited to start a project, I don't think about things like that. I can come back another time."
The blond woman tilts her head. "If you leave me your card, I can call you when there is a convenient time."
Alarms are going off in my head. Abort mission. She is onto you, Miranda. I grab my purse and start digging through it. "Well, wouldn't you know it, I don't have one with me."
She reaches and pulls Terence back away from the car. "I think you better leave."
"Can I call you to set something up?" I ask, weakly.
"Goodbye, Ms. Jessup."
I exhale loudly as she guides the boy across the yard. She is a hands on mother, as far as I can tell. She's what I call a momma bear. And, what do momma bears do when you mess with their cubs?
They kill.
