Murder of a Bookstore Babe

“When his class went to gym at eight forty.” Fern wrung her hands. She was extremely petite, and her affinity for brown clothing made her look like a wren. True to form, today she wore a taupe sweater and pants.

“PE class is only half an hour.” Caroline frowned. “Why didn’t you come and get me when his teacher first reported him missing?”

“She just this minute told me,” Fern mewled. “She didn’t realize Arnold was gone until the speech therapist came to get him for his session.”

“I see.” Caroline nodded, then directed, “Put out a PA announcement that any staff member who is not with children must report to the office immediately. As they come in, assign them to halls A and C, then the playground and parking lot, in that order. His room is in hallway B. I’ll be checking that corridor.” Next she focused on Skye. “You look in the gymnasium, kitchen, and stage.”

“Okay.” Skye headed out of the office but stopped to ask the principal, “Are you calling the police?”

“Not until we’ve conducted a thorough search.” Caroline’s tone was intractable.

“How about the boy’s parents?” Skye persisted.

“No need to worry them until we’re sure he’s really missing, and not just hiding somewhere. You know how ten-year-olds can be.”

Skye wasn’t sure what Caroline meant by that. Did she think all ten-year-olds were prone to disappearing? However, Skye was willing to follow the principal’s orders, at least until they’d searched the building and grounds. After that, if he was still unaccounted for, she would call 911 with or without the older woman’s blessing.

When Skye got to the gym, she found it empty except for an old-fashioned physician’s scale, a long Formica-topped table, and a chair. All three were positioned in the exact middle of the wooden floor. Except for those three items, the cavernous space was completely open, with nowhere for anyone to hide.

The elementary school didn’t have locker rooms, so after a quick glance around, Skye moved on to the storage area under the stage, which was padlocked. Making a mental note to get a key, Skye walked the perimeter of the empty platform. Once she was sure there were no hiding places, she parted the velvet curtains at the back and went through them. This spot had been converted to an office for the PE teacher.

There wasn’t anyone around, so Skye called out, “Yoo-hoo, anybody here?”

A soft rustle came from behind the stacks of athletic equipment, and Todd Grind, the gym teacher, poked his head around a tower of boxes. “Hey, Skye. What’s up? Another one of your SpEd kids needs babying?”

Skye fought to keep her expression neutral as she registered Todd’s use of the derogatory label. She reminded herself that he was as prickly as his brush-cut hairstyle. Still, she couldn’t allow a remark like that to go unchallenged. “Todd, the students receiving special education services are everyone’s responsibility.” Hoping to win him with an athletic metaphor, she said, “You know, a team effort.”

“A team effort is everyone doing what I tell them to.” Todd stuck his hands in the pockets of his warm-up jacket and shot Skye a cocky grin.

“Which is why I hate sports,” Skye muttered under her breath, then gave up trying to reform the PE teacher and explained about the missing boy. When she finished she asked, “Have you seen Arnold since that time?”

“What are you talking about?” Todd asked, then walked to his desk, flipped open an attendance book, and ran his finger down the page. “Porky wasn’t in class today.”

Skye started to remind him that she had asked the faculty not to call Arnold by that nickname and to discourage its use among his classmates, but she knew she’d be wasting her breath. Todd was surrounded by the Bozone—a substance that encircled clowns like him, stopping any intelligent suggestions from penetrating.

However, she would speak to Caroline once the boy was found. As far as she knew, everyone on the staff except Todd had complied with her request to use Arnold’s given name. But if the PE teacher didn’t stop, neither would the other kids, and Skye did not want the awful nickname following the poor kid to the junior high. If she didn’t nip it in the bud now, he’d be Porky for the rest of his life.

“Do you have the key to the storage area under the stage?” When Todd nodded, she asked, “Could you check and make sure he didn’t get in there somehow?”

“If it will make you happy,” the PE teacher sneered. “But Porky’s too lazy to have gone far.”

“Notify the office immediately if you find him.” Skye had to get out of there before she slapped Todd. “I’m going to keep searching.”

The gymnasium also served as the cafeteria, and the kitchen was connected through a set of swinging steel doors and a large window with a rolling metal shutter. It was too early for the lunch ladies to have arrived, so the space was empty.