Pretzel Logic Read online

  That seemed to take some of the starch out of her spine, but she wasn’t finished. “We have a no-firearms policy at our school.”

  “This event didn’t take place on school property. And it seems like you might have had a few dead third graders after they ran into traffic if she hadn’t stopped the guy from chasing them. And had it been a real knife, you definitely would have had a few dead third graders.”

  “That is not the point!”

  He took a cop stance, hands on his hips, legs apart, and stared down at her, dropping his voice into a low, threatening rumble.

  “Oh, I think it is exactly the point. See, Brita was shot in the line of duty, and then landed on a concrete wall, which caused the worst of her spinal injuries. You know how that happened? She was saving the life of a two-year-old boy. She ran into the line of fire to get him.

  “You want to get all high-and-mighty with me? I’m fine with dragging your happy little ass in front of the school’s board of directors and defending what she did today. You should be glad you have someone as trained as Brita providing your kids with free protection. Considering you didn’t provide adequate adult supervision for them. The assholes picked this group specifically because they thought it’d be funny to scatter the kids. If you’d had more adults with them, they would have left them alone.”

  He stepped closer, forcing her to look up. “You try to retaliate against Jordan, or her parents, or Brita, I will make sure every parent in your school knows that Brita risked her life and safety for these kids today. Do you realize she put herself between the kids and that guy? She ran toward him to stop him. Which side of the road did you end up on, huh? Did you bother to even look back when you ran? Were you trying to protect the kids, or busy trying to save your own ass? Should be easy enough to tell. It was caught on four different video cameras, not counting Mote’s security footage. Should I go get it and play it for you?”

  When the woman’s face went red, he realized he’d hit the mark and pressed his advantage to nip this shit in the bud.

  Now.

  He jabbed his finger toward her face. “Copies of all those videos can and will be made available online if you so much as suggest Brita be banned from the school, or try to get Jordan expelled. Don’t think I won’t. And, FYI, Brita never carries on school property. As for your school’s no-guns policy, I’m a cop. Do you realize that every time I’ve attended a school function, I’ve been armed? As have at least four other parents I’ve seen who I know are active law enforcement. Oh, and I’m pretty sure you’ve had other parents who aren’t law enforcement, who likely have concealed carry permits, who have also ignored your policy. I know at least one of your teachers carries, because Brita taught them. And you don’t have a school resource officer on staff, yet you have over four hundred students. That’s an awful lot of soft targets. So rethink who you’re really pissed off at.”

  Struggling to rein in his temper, Ethan turned and headed back to the parking lot where forensics was setting out markers for Brita’s empty magazine and the shell casings, and starting to take pictures of the scene before releasing the body to the coroner’s office.

  Brita still looked shell-shocked where she sat on the back seat of Dave’s cruiser, feet on the pavement.

  Dave, Ethan noticed, stood between her and the increasingly crowded cordon line.

  Ethan stepped in to help Dave block her from view. She still wouldn’t look up to meet Ethan’s gaze. He wondered if she had any of her anti-anxiety meds with her, but realized it wouldn’t be a good thing to ask her that in front of witnesses. Enough of her life would be on display over the next days and weeks. He didn’t need anyone else hearing about her meds.

  “How much longer is this going to take?” Ethan asked.

  “We can’t release her yet. We need to finish talking to the other adults first. You know procedures.”

  “Can we please get her out of here, at least? Move her to her car to give her a little privacy?” He’d spotted it on his walk into the building with Jordan. Even better, she was parked in a shady spot at an angle that made it impossible to read her license plate from the road, should someone want a picture of that.

  “Yeah. Go ahead.”

  Ethan had to help her up and wrap an arm around her waist to help her walk. From her stiff, slow gait, he knew how much pain she was in. At her car, he took her keys from her and helped her into the passenger seat before he climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and got the AC blowing.

  She stared out the windshield.

  He reached over and held her hand. “Baby, I know this is tough, but you need to stay with me. You’ve already been through more than any person should have to go through, but I’m here, and I’m not leaving you.”

  “I killed that guy.”

  “I know.”

  “He didn’t have a real knife.”

  “Even Dave said it looked real. Everyone said it looked real. You know how it works. You wait too long to make that decision, a perp is on you.”

  “Why didn’t he stop when he saw I had a gun? Why didn’t he follow my orders? I mean, if he was a real criminal or something, that’s one thing. This guy was willing to get shot over a stupid stunt?”

  Ethan didn’t mention Dave’s supposition, that maybe the guy was trying to and tripped. If that was really what happened, there’d be plenty of time later for her to feel even worse.

  For now, he wanted to try to keep her anchored and not succumb to her anxiety and PTSD.

  “He was a high-risk guy. Some of the things I’ve seen him do for laughs are way beyond the edge of what’s funny. If it hadn’t been you, likely it would have been someone else one day. I’m just glad none of the kids got seriously injured.”

  “I almost shot the other guys when they ran up.”

  He released her hand and gently gripped her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

  “Listen to me. You did everything right. That was a clean shoot. Stop second-guessing yourself. If we play that game, I could have spent every damn day of the past four years blaming and hating myself for not shooting that guy before he shot you that day. So stop that. Focus on me and Jordan and the fact that you did your job today, and you did it flawlessly.” Which he did blame and hate himself for waiting, but admitting that to her now would defeat the purpose of trying to help her.

  Her tears fell, hot and heavy. She sobbed against him as he pulled her into his arms. It wasn’t very comfortable there in the front seat of her Toyota, but at least he could be there for her and they had some privacy.

  It took her a good twenty minutes to cry herself out. In that time, he watched Dave and two recently arrived detectives walk over to the auditorium and start bringing the adults out one at a time to speak with them and take their statements.

  “Where’s Jordan?” she hoarsely asked.

  “I’ll go get her in a little bit. She’s with the other kids and eating her lunch.” He had a thought. “You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

  “No. My lunch is in there.”

  “Okay. I’ll get it for you. Stay here.”

  He started to reach for the door but she grabbed his hand. “I’m not hungry.”

  Hoping she didn’t hate him for this later when she had her emotional legs under her better, he gently caught her chin and made her meet his gaze.

  “That wasn’t a suggestion, baby. You will eat. That’s an order.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  He breathed a silent, relieved sigh before kissing her. “My good girl. I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

  He got out and headed for the auditorium. Dave intercepted him to find out what he needed, and let him go in to get her lunch.

  Jordan, it seemed, appeared out of nowhere to practically tackle him as he walked through the door. “Uncle Ethan! Can I go be with AuntieBee now? Please?”

  Another possibly low blow, but he’d take it. Brita could always be strong for others even i
f she didn’t know how to sometimes be strong for herself.

  “You know what? I bet she’d love the company. Let’s get your stuff and you go get her lunch for me, huh?”

  Mrs. Atkins walked over to him and before she could even say anything, he overruled what he suspected she was about to try. “I’ve already talked to her father,” he said, his voice low. “We’re taking her with us. Just try me, lady. Go ahead.”

  Her face pinched even more, but she spun on her heel and returned to where she’d been seated.

  He scooped Jordan up when she returned to him, and when they emerged from the auditorium, he made a line for Dave, who’d just finished talking to one of the parents.

  “Hey, Major Dave,” Ethan called out.

  He frowned. “Yeah?”

  “Miss JJ here would like to talk to you about what happened.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Brita and I are an emergency contacts for her. I can get her father on the phone for you right now to okay it, if you want.”

  He nodded. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  Ethan nodded toward Brita’s car, where they dropped Jordan’s backpack, bag of stuffed animals, and gave Brita her lunch. With Jordan sitting on the trunk and Ethan standing next to her, Dave talked to her about what she saw.

  “We were walking across the parking lot. We were supposed to stop at the street until the teachers told us to cross. Then I heard something really weird. Like an animal growling. When I looked I saw the guy. I guess that’s when AuntieBee saw him, too. She yelled for us to run and ran toward him. Some of us ran across the street, and a lady crashed her car, and I heard AuntieBee shoot the guy.”

  “Did you actually see her shoot him?”

  She shook her head. “I was running.”

  “Did you hear your aunt say anything?”

  “She yelled at us to run. Then she yelled for him to stop and drop the knife. I think she told him to get down, too, but I’m not sure. She did a lot of yelling at him. I can’t remember everything she said.”

  “That’s okay. So did you actually see if he had anything in his hands?”

  “Uh, yeah. He had a huuuuge knife. He looked like a monster.” She leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Did you make sure he’s really dead? Billie just told me that his older brother lets him watch movies his parents tell him not to watch, and those monsters on TV always get up and attack people after you think they’re dead.”

  Ethan and Dave’s gazes locked and they both had trouble not laughing despite the circumstances. If you didn’t have gallows humor in this job, you wouldn’t have any humor at all.

  Dave finally managed to get it out first without laughing. “He’s really dead, honey. He’s not a monster, he was a guy in a costume.”

  She scowled. “Well, that was stupid! He was scary and it’s not even Halloween! What the heck was he doing in a costume when it’s not Halloween? We were supposed to see the manatees and dolphins and sea turtles and stuff this afternoon, and now we’re not going to get to do that.” She frowned. “Big jerk. I wanted to pet a dolphin and feed a sea turtle.”

  Ethan threw his head back, staring at the sky and chewing on the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. Dave, however, had given up and let out a snort as he made more notes.

  “Can you remember anything else about the guy?”

  “He looked scary. And there were some other guys. I saw them later. AuntieBee made them get on the ground like in the cop shows. They were kind of scary looking, too. Their faces were covered.”

  “Do you remember how many there were?”

  “Didn’t you count them?”

  Now Ethan lost it and let out a chuckle. “Honey, this is how cops have to ask questions. Please answer him.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and sounded a little huffy. “There were three of them.” She held up her right hand without uncrossing her arms and ticked them off on her fingers. “One-two-three. Uno-dos-tres.” She nodded.

  “Oh, boy,” Dave said, jotting it down. “Can you spell your name for me, honey?”

  “In English or Spanish?”

  Ethan closed his eyes and gave up the struggle. He laughed, long and hard. “In English, JJ,” he finally managed.

  “I was just asking, Uncle Ethan. J-O-R-D-A-N BigM-LittleC-G-U-I-R-E.”

  Ethan glanced over toward the crime scene, barely able to see past one of the marked cruisers ringing the area. The coroner’s team was loading the guy into a body bag and preparing to transport.

  He wondered if it made him a horrible person to want to know how tight Brita’s grouping had been when she shot him.

  He made a mental note to take a look at the autopsy photos later.

  “And do you know your birthdate, honey?”

  “Of course.” She didn’t continue.

  Ethan returned his focus to her. “JJ, tell him.”

  “I’m not supposed to tell people stuff like that. Mommy said it can lead to identity stealing.”

  Now Ethan dropped his head in defeat. “JJ, Dave is a friend of mine, and he’s a cop. He needs to know your date of birth. It’s okay to tell him in this case. I’ll tell your mom that I said it was an exception to the rule.”

  “Are you suuuure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay, fine. But I’m not telling him my social security number. If he wants that, he can ask Mommy or Daddy. I don’t want to get into trouble.” She recited her date of birth.

  In English, then in Spanish.

  Ethan covered his eyes with his hand and wondered if he’d dropped into a wormhole.

  When Ethan finally looked again, he spotted Dave’s amused smirk. “You are one smart little girl, Jordan,” he said.

  “That’s why Mommy and Daddy have me at Sorrellson Academy. I’m going to be an engineer and fix bridges and stuff. I am a Jenga expert.” She made a funny little martial arts movie kind of noise and struck a pose with her arms, even while still sitting on the trunk. “I’m a Jenga ninja!”

  “I’m done.” Ethan wasn’t sure if Dave meant he was done questioning her, done trying to not laugh, or all of the above. He shook his head at Ethan and handed him the notebook. “Write down her parents’ names and contact info, please.”

  “Sure.” He dug Brita’s phone out of his pocket and pulled up the information. While he was doing that, Jordan took the pad and pen from him and started writing. He was about to correct her when he realized her printing, while a little large, was nearly as good as his own.

  And she had the correct info.

  Even Dave stepped closer to look, his eyes widening. “You sure you don’t want to be a cop, Jordan?” he asked after he took the notepad and pen back.

  “Maybe when I retire from being an engineer. Engineers make more money. No offense, Major Dave and Uncle Ethan. Cops are important, too, but I want a Mercedes.”

  “Jeez, Ethan, is this kid for real?”

  He patted her on the head. “Yeah. And now you see why she’s enrolled at Sorrellson.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon by the time they declared Brita free to go. The state attorney who’d been consulted on the case reviewed the videos and agreed that Brita shouldn’t be charged. It wasn’t an official declaration, but there was little chance of them suddenly reversing their decision and filing charges against her. Once the official investigation was completed, then everything would be announced at the same time.

  The three cameramen were looking at multiple charges, including felonies. They’d been transported and booked and would face preliminary arraignment the next morning.

  Now investigators also had the answer to a strange series of phone calls that had been made to 911 earlier that morning, reports of a strange man in a park just north of downtown Sarasota. But he’d disappeared before he could be apprehended.

  It’d been a trial run for the costume. With too many adults around, they’d opted not to go for any close-up scares. They’
d wanted a group of kids at Mote before moving on to Siesta Key Beach, thinking that’d be a “safe” target. They’d assumed beachgoers, or people at a tourist attraction, likely wouldn’t be armed.

  None of the four men, including the deceased prankster, were from Florida. This had been their first of five planned cities in the state to film pranks in.

  A rookie deputy in her second week of ride-alongs with a lieutenant volunteered to drive Ethan’s unmarked unit and follow them to Brita’s condo, her lieutenant following to pick her up.

  Brita didn’t feel like talking on the drive back. Ethan drove, holding her hand and keeping up a running conversation with Jordan in the backseat, talking about any- and everything except that day’s events.

  When they arrived, Brita nearly burst into tears to realize she couldn’t get out of the car by herself.

  Ethan sent Jordan on ahead with Brita’s keys. The little girl knew how to disarm the alarm. “Leave the door open for us,” he said.

  “Okay.” She skipped up the walk and unlocked the door.

  “Baby, are you going to fight me?” he softly asked Brita.

  “No, Sir,” she whispered.

  Fuck it. She needed him, and he was there.

  Ethan was always there when she truly needed him. Had always been there, ever since entering her life.

  She’d already unbuckled her seatbelt. He got her legs swung out and helped her stand, then dipped his knees and scooped her into his arms to carry her.

  Closing her eyes, she rested her head against his shoulder as she felt him shut the car door with his foot and then head for the front door.

  “I always imagined carrying you over the threshold would involve vigorous meeping after,” he softly teased.

  That finally drew a pained laugh from her. “Me, too.”

  Through the front door, which he also nudged shut with his foot, and he carried her straight through to her bedroom, where he set her on the bed.