But after Sarge put the call out for cops in the area to get to Saint Chris, he sat behind his desk and exhaled. First they have a prisoner escape. Now this? “Lord, don’t let it be that gal,” Sarge said.
The cop nearest to his desk looked at him. “What gal?” he asked.
“That dean,” Sarge said. “Who else? You think he’s mad now, let somebody harm that dean.”
The cop looked at another cop. Neither one of them had any idea what Sarge was talking about. But the other cops in that squad room knew exactly what Sarge was talking about.
Boone was the first law enforcement officer to arrive on campus, but Dontay, Morley, and several patrol cars were right behind. He ordered the patrol officers to set up a perimeter outside, while he, Dontay, and Morley ran inside of the school. Boone was asking any faculty in sight, or any of the students still on campus about one person and one person only: “Where’s Dean Johnson?” he kept asking. “Have you seen Dean Johnson? Is Dean Johnson okay?” He had been praying for everybody to be okay, but he was especially praying that she was not harmed. That she was not the fatality Dontay had mentioned.
But nobody had a clue where she was, or where anybody else was until one teacher pointed further into the guts of the school, and said he last saw her there.
Boone’s heart was hammering as he ran in that direction. It was exactly where he DID NOT want Charly to be because everybody was pointing in that same direction when he asked them where the action was.
The action, according to everybody, was in the cafeteria. And when Boone and his men made it to the hot zone, they realized that it was not an active shooter on campus, as had first been reported, but a dead body on campus, just like Rita Mae’s situation. But this time, Boone quickly realized when they saw the body, the victim was the elusive Dalbert Lee, the very man Boone had arrested the day before. The very man Boone had learned not an hour earlier had escaped from his jail.
And his body, lying in a pantry inside the cafeteria and discovered by another cafeteria worker, was what all the fuss was about.
And then Boone saw Charly.
She was further over in the cafeteria, consoling the cafeteria staff, when he first laid eyes on her. As a precaution, to his relief, she held that gun he had given to her in her hand. And he couldn’t help it: he left Dalbert’s body and made a beeline for her.
When Charly saw Boone hurrying his way, she broke free, too, and hurried to meet him. When they made it up to each other, they both wanted to fall into each other’s arms. Boone, especially, was just that relieved that she was okay. But they were consummate professionals. They didn’t touch.
Besides, Boone was looking at the tiny nip on her forehead. “What happened?” he asked her.
“They found a body,” she said, but Boone pointed to her forehead.
Charly touched it. “Oh, that,” she said. “Some students were hysterical and knocked me down, but I’m alright. I just can’t believe there’s another dead body on this campus.”
“Neither can I.”
“And some of these workers are saying it was Dalbert Lee’s body, but I know you arrested him yesterday.”
Boone nodded. “Yeah, I did,” he said. “But that is his body.”
“Does this mean the threat isn’t over?” Charly asked him.
Boone exhaled as an anguished look appeared on his face. “That’s what it looks like,” he said. And when that same anguished look appeared on Charly’s face, he couldn’t help it. He was angry that Dalbert’s escape and death meant that the threat was not over, and he was relieved that she was okay. He was angry that she might still be in harm’s way, and relieved that at least for that moment she wasn’t. He pulled her into his arms.
Charly knew she should have resisted his pull. Students shouldn’t see their affection. But she couldn’t resist Boone. He was, once again, the balm she needed. She melted in his arms. At that moment, they didn’t care who saw them.
And later that evening, when they made it to Boone’s house, they were both so emotionally spent that they headed straight upstairs. Boone investigated the crime scene, while Charly had to make sure all of the students had gotten home safely and that all of the complaining parents had been reassured. She also ordered the guidance counselors to be on hand tomorrow morning, along with grief counselors, to help students deal with yet another tragedy on their campus. The school would remain closed that extra day, the board decided, and the counseling sessions would take place at the adjourning Saint Christopher church, instead of the school. Charly had to spearhead that entire effort.
Now all they both wanted to do was go to sleep.
But Boone wasn’t about to sleep alone. When they made it upstairs, and Charly broke away from him to head to the guest room, he pulled her back to him. “That’s not your room anymore,” he said to her.
“Actually,” she said to him, “I thought I would be going back to my own apartment today.”
But Boone was already shaking his head. “You aren’t ever going back there, except to get your things.”
“What are you saying?” Charly asked him. She was alarmed on a different level. She wasn’t about to live with him. She wasn’t about to make it that easy for him. She needed her own space, her own life, or a man like Boone Ryan would consume her. “I’m not living with you.”
“I understand that,” Boone said. “But you aren’t living there. We’ll find an apartment for you. I’m not saying you have to stay here. But you aren’t staying there. I am saying that.”
Charly had been with some domineering men in her life. Darryl was one of them. But she’d never been with a man quite like Boone. His domination was never about him. His domination was always about what he felt was best for her. He was looking out for her.
“Come on,” Boone said, nudging her toward his bedroom.
Charly smiled. “You’re a smooth operator, Robert Ryan,” she said.
“And you aren’t?” he asked, and Charly laughed.
But when they made it into his bedroom, and he fell across the bed bringing her on top with him, their levity was gone. Boone smoothed the hair out of her face. He stared into her big, pretty eyes. And then he kissed her. And then he held her, pleased to have her safe and sound and with him.
They would eventually shower together, and then pull back the covers and get in bed. They still needed rest. It had been too emotional a day. But their nearness, and their flesh against flesh, was too much for them to resist.
They made love that night, too, but only just. Because mostly they held onto each other. Mostly they took solace in knowing that two people who thought happiness had come and gone for them, just might beat the odds.
They might not have to go it alone after all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
The next morning while Boone was upstairs dressing, Charly was downstairs preparing the kind of breakfast she was accustomed to, and it didn’t involve stew. Bacon, eggs, and toast were on the menu that she cooked from. And even Boone appreciated the smell of bacon in his house.
But then his doorbell was ringing as he made his way downstairs, prompting him to immediately pull out his gun. Nobody came to his house uninvited. It just wasn’t done in Hemingway. But a lot of things, Boone also realized, were changing in his town.