Chapter 19
Garrett looked over his shoulder at the clock on the back wall of the classroom. He had been teaching this class now for over a month, and the only answers he’d gotten were the ones Mrs. Huber left him for the pop quizzes she’d prepared in her absence to test their reading comprehension ofPride and Prejudice.
Madison Grier was still a complete mystery to him, as were her parents, whom the FBI was still unable to get indictments on in the drug ring that law enforcement had been investigating for well over a year now. Whoever was heading this organization was not only smart, but elusive, and if it wasn’t for all the extra time Garrett was getting to spend with Reese on their lunch breaks, he would actually be pretty pissed off that his time and efforts as a Texas Ranger were being wasted on reading and discussing something he’d long since studied and put aside back in high school.
A hand shot up. Madison’s.
“Yes?” Garrett asked, happy she was participating in their class discussion.
“I was just thinking, wouldn’t you agree that pride is part of what makes you who you are? So, if society is trying to teach people that having pride, or even too much pride, is bad, then isn’t that a form of taking away a person’s individuality?”
“Well,” Garrett had learned to use questions like these to his advantage by turning them around to the class, and seeing whocould give the best answer or rebuttal. “Let’s open this point up for discussion. Is asking someone to give up their pride the same as asking them to give up their individuality?”
“No,” Lia Marshall, a petite blonde who sat in the front row said. “Pride has nothing to do with who you are. It’s about how you carry yourself.”
Garrett nodded, giving the room a moment to digest her words. Another hand shot up. Aaron Trayer’s, one of the school’s star athletes. “I think pride is important to have. I mean, if you can’t be proud of things you’ve accomplished, then what’s the point of trying to do anything?”
“Interesting,” Garrett said, thoroughly enjoying this unexpected philosophical debate. “Okay, the bell is going to ring in a few seconds. For homework, let’s write a one-page paper on a time in your life when you exhibited pride, and what the turnout was from that pride. Not the event or action itself, but the pride. For example, if you were too proud to ask for directions and ended up getting lost, and missing an important appointment. Your story doesn’t have to be negative, y’all just got me curious now.” When the bell rang, all the students shot out of their seats. “See you tomorrow,” Garrett called out, then turned back to his desk to gather his things.
He had the next period free and he wanted to go back to his truck and touch base with Caden and Blake, see if they’d dug anything up since the last time he talked to them three days ago. He put his lesson plan book in the briefcase as the class filed out of the room, one by one, talking, joking, laughing. A few of the kids gave him a smile, a nod, or a quick wave.
His attention diverted to Madison as she picked up her backpack that looked heavier than usual and something orange fell out of one of the side pockets. Garrett inwardly groaned, hoping no one else saw, but she just picked it up, stuffed it insideand practically ran out the door, likely stepping on a few toes along the way.
“Hey, watch it,” one of the kids called out as she pushed past. Garrett wasn’t sure who said that because his gaze was firmly on the floor next to Madison’s chair. A white powder-like residue lightly dusted a small area of the floor where her bag had been just moments ago.
He’d been walking up and down the aisles for the last forty-five minutes, and hadn’t noticed it before. This was also the first class of the day, and Garrett had nearly bumped into the janitor that morning as he was leaving the room, a mop in hand. So that powder was definitely not there before or during class.
As soon as the last student exited the classroom, Garrett closed the door, pulled out an evidence bag from his briefcase and carefully dabbed the inside of it into the powder, then sealed the bag shut.
He called Caden from his truck as he raced across the city to drop off the sample at the lab. “I don’t know if her parents are involved, but I think Madison Grier has found an interesting way to conceal drugs on her person.”
“Oh?” Caden said. “Do tell.”
“Menstruation pads. Or at least wrapping the little baggies inside the individual plastic wrapping they come in. I mean, who’s going to check what they think is a menstrual pad?”
“Dang, kids are definitely getting more creative these days,” Caden said.
Garrett chuckled. “If only they’d use their intelligence for something useful, like curing cancer instead of dealing drugs.”
“You catch her in the act?”
“No, but the sample I’m driving over right now undoubtedly came from the supposed pad that fell out of her bag when class ended. And this isn’t the first time apparently. The first day I washere, one of the kids called her Madi Padi and threw a pad at her.”
“Bullying at its worst,” Caden mused. “It seems like kids are only getting meaner. Anyway, I’ll put a rush on those test results and keep you posted as soon as the lab gets back to me.”
“Thanks.” Garrett ended the call and focused on the road, wondering how Reese’s day was going. She’d breezed through her first month of teaching like an old pro. The kids loved her, and they couldn’t be happier or more excited about making junk journals for their senior project.
She’d really come a long way since the day he met her in that abandoned motel room, alone, scared, dirty and hungry. It was hard to believe that was the same woman he’d been spending time with, sneaking kisses between classes, having lunch in the faculty lounge at lunch, and making out on his couch in the evenings. He loved cooking with her, watching movies together, catching the sunset on his deck with their toes in the water, and looking up at the stars through his telescope with her.
But she wasn’t the only one who’d changed. He felt like a different man, too. He still loved his friends and his job, but they were no longer his top priority. She was. The solitude he craved in the house he’d spent years renovating didn’t comfort him nearly as much anymore as having her there to share it all with. The sound of her laughter, the way she hummed when she made her coffee in the morning, even the way she tended to her little garden.
She brought this sense of magic and wonder to his life that he wanted to capture and hold onto forever. But more than that, he wanted to do something special for her that showed her just how much he cared about her. He’d been listening to the radio on the way back to the school when a commercial gave him the perfect idea.
***
Reese was pleased with how creatively her senior class students were integrating Neo-Expressionist art into their junk journals. After almost a week of lessons, she’d actually succeeded in capturing their imaginations with stories of how artists were only then discovering how to use contrasting colors to make images come to life and have a certain glow about them. Since she herself was a mixed-use artist, she encouraged her students to use whatever medium they felt comfortable with, whether it was paints, cut outs, photos, or anything else that inspired their art. Other than using Neo-Expressionism as inspiration, their only other assignment for their junk journal was that they had to make it personal.
Reese slowly walked up and down the center aisle of the classroom, glancing over their shoulder to check their work and making herself available for questions. The students sat four to a table, with four tables on each side of the room. When she’d first applied for this job, Reese wasn’t sure if she’d like it, but seeing her students so deeply immersed in their work gave her a sense of satisfaction she hadn’t felt since creating her own art.