Chapter 05

"Thanks for coming with me, Roy," I said. "I appreciate your understanding."

"No problem, dude," he said. "No one is going to mess with a six-foot-eight tall, black, gay guy. Whoever this Mr. Lancaster is will be in for a rude awakening if he tries to mess with me or my friends."

"I've got friends in high places," I said with a laugh.

"Yeah b."

The precinct wasn't that far from my house. Maybe six miles away. I called and asked Roy to go with me. I gave him the gist of what happened, and he understood my worry. The May weather decided to have an early cold snap, so he wore hoodie for Indiana State. The precinct was kind of small. It was your basic brick building with large windows at the corner where the entrance was located. It was pretty modern. Guess the police force has to keep up with the times like everyone else.

"You think you can remember his face?" Roy asked as we walked up to the doors.

"For sure."

"Okay. Let's do this."

Pushing through the doors, the inside was a little warm. People hustled back and forth, carrying documents or conversations with other officers. The place might have been small, but it sure was bustling with activity. We approached a man wearing glasses at the reception desk.

"Excuse me," I said.

"Hello, gentlemen," he said with a service smile. "What can I do to help you today?"

"Well, I had a strange encounter today at my high school."

"Okay. Is it just you two here today? Should I call your parents?"

"That probably wouldn't be a good idea," I said. "My mother gets paranoid enough as it is. I'd rather just talk to someone who can help me and not make my mother worry more than she already does."

"And I'm fostered," Roy said. "My foster mother won't be much help anyways."

"Okay. Can you describe your encounter?"

"A strange man showed up at my school saying I was offered a place at ISSM. When I tried to find information on him, they had no idea who he was. I'm afraid it might have been some sort of kidnapping attempt or something like that."

"Attempted kidnapping?" He asked. "That's really serious. Are you sure you don't want me to call your mother?"

"I'm positive. Is there someone I can talk to about this? I want to get his face out there as soon as possible."

"Yeah, I got you. I'm going to contact one of our detectives from the special victims unit and have them meet you right away. If you could please take a seat right over there."

"Thank you."

"Thank you, sir."

We sat in the semi-comfortable chairs and waited. Roy went to the snack machine and bought us a couple of candy bars. We snacked for a minute when a black man with short, black hair walked up to us, showing his badge. He was just under Roy's height by a few inches.

"Excuse me, sirs. I was told you might have been involved in a possible kidnapping?"

"Yes. I'm Adam. This is Roy."

"Nice to meet you both. Let's go to my office and talk privately."

We shook hands and were directed down a hallway to an elevator.

Roy leaned over and whispered, "Oh my god, he's hot."

I elbowed him. "Knock it off. You're not even graduated yet!"

"I can dream, Adam."

The elevator took us up one floor. Pushing past people carrying papers, he led us to a small windowed office. He closed the blinds.

"Okay. Start from the beginning."

He took a seat. I cleared my throat.

"Well, today, I was called to the principal's office. When I got there, a man in a black suit was with him. His name was Mr. Lancaster. He told me this whole spiel about being accepted to the Indiana School of Science and Mathematics. He made it apparent that I attend the school. He said they were paying for the whole thing for me to go. When I turned him down, he got really upset and said some questionable things. The principal wasn't happy about me saying no, either."

"So, what made you think this man was suspicious?"

"He was really pushy on the topic. I told him about five times I wasn't doing it, and he started getting defensive. His smile disappeared. He said I better hope this doesn't affect my future because anything can happen that will change my mind. A friend of mine was outside the office door hearing the conversation. If I need to, I can ask her to come, but I'd rather not bring her into this. He saw her face there, too. I don't want to put her at risk, but she will tell you the same thing."

"What school do you go to?"

"Mayfield High."

"If I call the principal, with he corroborate your story?"

"He should."

"Just a moment."

He picked up the phone and put in a call to the school. It wasn't that late in the day, so he should still be there.

"Hello? Yes, this is the North Carolina State Police Department. I was wondering if you could put me through to the principal? I have a few questions involving an investigation. Yes, I'll hold."

After a few seconds, Roy and I made eye contact.

"Ah, yes sir. My name is Mr. Buckley. I was hoping you could answer a couple of questions about an encounter today. Did a man named Mr. Lancaster come to your office today? What was it he discussed with you about?"

There was some mumbled chatter on the phone, but we couldn't make out what he was saying. After about thirty seconds, Buckley continued.

"So when Mr. Kelley said no, how did Mr. Lancaster react?"

The principals voice elevated. Buckley winced.

"Sir, please lower your voice. Did Mr. Lancaster say anything along the lines of, and I quote, 'You better hope this doesn't affect your future because anything can happen that will change your mind'?"

I heard a definitive "Yes, but--"

"Then that's all I need to know, sir. Thank you for your time. And I will also ask that, the next time you hear an underlying threat from a stranger to a student on your school property, that you report it to the school board so the police can be notified. Thank you."

He hung up the phone. "So he never thought to report this today. Wonderful leadership."

"It's high school," Roy said. "We're used to adults not doing anything when we need them."

"It's okay. I'm going to make sure this man doesn't get anywhere near you. Do you have any pictures of this man?"

"None. But I remember what his face looked like."

"Great. I'll bring in a sketch artist right away. Don't worry. We're going to handle this."

He put in a call, and a man with a sketchpad came into the room. He took a seat next to Mr. Buckley.

"Okay, Adam. Can you describe the man? Was there any specific features you remember?"

After about twenty minutes, the artist had completed the sketch. It looked almost exactly like Lancaster.

"That's him. That's the guy."

"Okay," Mr. Buckley said. "I'm going to notify forensics and run the facial recognition software. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"Thank you so much, detective," I said. "I honestly thought no one would believe us since we're high school students. Everyone pretty much ignores us."

"If there's the possibility of a crime, as a detective I'm required to investigate to make sure it is or isn't real. From the looks of it, it very well could be. I'll be calling the other school to let them know they have someone impersonating as one of their professors. If he does it to someone else, we'll be on his tail."

"Thank you again, detective," Roy said. "Here's my number. Let me know if there's someone's ass I have to kick, will you?"

He smiled. "If we need the backup, we'll let you know. My card." He handed us a business card. "If you find any more information on him, give me a call."

"Thank you sir."

"Be safe, you two."

We walked out of his office and left the precinct.

"This guy has got nothing on you now," Roy said. "Once they put his face out there, it's game over for him. Unless he can change his face, you're in the clear."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I'm so glad the hard part is over. Linda had to talk me into going to the police."

"She can be very convincing. Hey, you want to come over to my place and study? Our test is in two days. I can invite John to buy us some pizza for dinner."

"Do you have any ranch dressing?"

~~~

The next day, I was called into the principal's office again. I braced myself, thinking I was going to see Mr. Lancaster standing inside with a gun pointed at the door. Instead, it was a police officer.

"Come in and sit down, Mr. Kelley," the principal said. I closed the door.

"This is the second time in two days I've been asked to come to the office, sir," I said. "I'm guessing this second time isn't for a good reason."

"I'm afraid not. We were given an anonymous tip that you were harboring illegal steroids in your bag."

"Uh, say what now?"

"I'm going to have to ask you to empty your bag."

"But sir--"

"Please don't make this harder than it has to be, Adam."

"What do you mean? Why is there a police officer? He's not even campus security."

"I was the one that first got the call," the officer said. He looked like he didn't know what he was doing. "I called the principal for a meeting with you."

"No one is saying that you are carrying illegal substances, Adam. But this allegation is serious. We just need to make sure there is no danger."

"Even I know this isn't protocol. My mom used to be a cop. You don't send another cop from outside unless there's something else wrong."

"There is nothing else going on Adam. Just empty your bag."

"Fine. You know what? That's fine. Just take everything I own. Maybe I should've taken that offer yesterday. At least I wouldn't have to deal with this bullshit."

"Watch your language, sir," the officer said.

"Or what? You don't have any real authority here except with what the agency gives you. Here, I'm dumping out the stupid bag. I'll tell you exactly what's in it. Two textbooks, three binders, some pencils and pens, erasers, my sketch book, three pieces of gum, and my phone charger."

I turned the bag upside down and had everything dumped out onto the floor. Everything fell out in a heap.

Then a small bag with pills fell on top like a cherry on ice cream.

"Uh... what?"

Then a gun fell out of the bag.

"WHAT?"

I jumped back. It laid on top of everything I had dumped out, next to the steroid pills. I raised my hands.

"That's not mine!"

The officer stared wide-eyed at the gun on the floor. He drew his weapon and aimed it at me.

"Whoa whoa whoa! What the hell is going on!"

"Keep your hands where I can see them!"

The principal looked at the officer, then me, then the officer again.

"Sir, please put down the gun. I don't think--"

"You saw it! It fell out of his bag!"

"He's just a kid! I said--"

The principal reached out to swat at the gun like an idiot, and the officer pointed it at him.

"Wait!" I said.

The door clicked open.

"Don't move!" The officer shouted.

I didn't, but the door pushed open. I turned my head to tell the person opening the door to leave, but I felt an icy feeling through my body. There was a loud explosion, but the sound slowed to nothing. I looked down at my torso. A bullet, suspended in the air, sat bare inches from me. I yelped and moved away from the bullet. It started moving backwards. The door started closing. With the small amount of time I had, I ran over behind the principal. I felt the ice, and everything resumed like normal. The door opened, and the gun went off. The bullet hit the wall, and whomever was opening the door had bolted.

"Jesus Christ!" The principal shouted. "You almost shot him!"

"Where did he go?" The officer said out loud.

"I'm right here," I said from behind the principal. "Can you please not shoot me for no reason? I want my mom right now. That guy tried to shoot me."

The principal, now angry at the officer, looked at him in the eye with fire. "Your superior will be hearing about this. Shooting at an unarmed student. Your job will be had."

"I also want to file a report. That gun is not mine. The detective that called you yesterday, Mr. Buckley. He's leading an investigation on Mr. Lancaster. I guarantee you that gun does not have my fingerprints on it, and it definitely doesn't belong to my mother. I bet it was him. He threatened me yesterday, and it's almost exactly twenty-four hours later. That seems a bit suspicious, doesn't it?"

The principal looked down at the gun, then the officer.

"I'm going to give another call, and I want you to stay right where you are. I'm charging you with trespassing and attempted assault on an unarmed student. You decided it be best to shoot now and ask questions later, risking the lives of one of the few students here with a clean record. I will have your job over this."

"Y-you can't do that."

"Oh, yes I can. And I'll be calling Mr. Buckley back, Adam. It seems he will be taking over this investigation."

"Who called you?" I asked the officer.

"What? I don't have to--"

"You just freaking shot at me because you got trigger happy. Who called?"

He sighed. "I don't know. It was an anonymous tip."

I put my hand to my head. "Of course it was. I need to sit down."

I took a seat on the floor.

"Here's his card," I said. I already had his contact saved in my phone. "Call him right now."

The principal called the detective, urging him to bring two more officers with him. He called the other guy incompetent in the process, stressing the use of excessive force he used on me. While he was doing that, I gave my mom a call, saying she needed to come to the school's office. She made it there before Buckley did, and she. Was. LIVID. She swore at the officer, saying she knew the captain and would have him fired for his recklessness, how dare he fire on a student who wasn't a threat, etc.

At the end of it all, Mr. Buckley came and explained to the principal and my mother to let me leave school early and go to the precinct to discuss everything that they had found. They put his face out there, but they hadn't found him yet. It was possible he knew he would be sought out and went incognito to stay under the radar. A quick forensics check confirmed there were no fingerprints on the firearm. The young officer was being charged with reckless endangerment and, as a result, was being laid off. His use of excessive force showed he couldn't stay cool under pressure, and the force couldn't have that kind of negative backlash without showing for it.

When all was said and done, instead of berating me for not telling her anything, she looked at me and only said, "I understand."

I asked if I was going to get in trouble for having it in my bag. He said it was unlikely. My record was clean. My mother was an ex cop, and it wasn't even her gun. I had no idea whose it was, either. When I questioned about the drugs, he said it was likely that was planted to have my bag searched and the gun be found. Someone was trying to set me up for expulsion. I ground my teeth, trying to think of when it could have been slipped into my bag.

"The only time I wasn't near my bag," I said, "was during lunch. The school doesn't have cameras, so I can't say for sure."

"That's when the call had come through," he said. "It was just before one o'clock."

"I don't understand what this guy wants with me," I said. "I'm not that special. Why is he doing this?"

"We're going to figure that out," he said. "For now, I want to put you under protective custody."

"Protective custody? What about my finals? They start tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, but your safety is my number one concern right now. You may not get to take them."

"But then I can't pass. I'll fall behind."

"Sweetie, that might be for the best. That school isn't safe if someone can sneak a gun into your bag."

"But I don't want to switch schools. I like it there. My friends are there."

"You have the choice of walking out without protective custody, but I strongly recommend against it."

I looked at my mother. "Please don't force it on me."

"I'm not going to force anything on you. I know how rough protective custody can be. We would have to move. You couldn't talk with your friends until that man is found. That's going to be hard for you. This is your choice."

"Thanks, mom. Mr. Buckley? I want to finish school. Maybe I can push it off until school is over? Maybe there's a program that will let me work somewhere over the summer? I'm trying to save up for a car."

"I'll see what I can do."

"In the meantime, I want my son given a police escort to school until it lets out. Can you do that?"

"I'm sure we could find a veteran, experienced officer who knows what they're doing."

"Please," I begged. "Someone respected. Someone who's good at it."

Mr. Buckley rubbed his chin. "I think I know someone."