Page 51 of Final Escape
It opened before she made it to the top step.
“What are you doing here?” Linda whispered. She glanced over her shoulder into the cabin then stepped outside, pulling the front door closed. “I already told you that Noah wouldn’t be back this summer.”
“I understand. But Principal Grover wanted me to make sure everything is all right. Can we talk—maybe with Noah’s father, too?”
Linda anxiously surveyed the yard, then her worried gaze flitted back to Carrie. She reached for the doorknob. “My brother is asleep, actually—he got in late last night and has to leave again very early tomorrow morning.”
“Is there another time? I can come back.”
“He’s a long-haul trucker, so he comes and goes to the east and west coast all the time. I can’t tell you when he’ll be back next—at least until he marks it on the calendar for me.”
“Then, can I talk to you?”
“I have nothing to say.”
Carrie started to envision her fall teaching contract going up in smoke. “But what about Noah—and school in the fall?”
A door slammed. Heavy footsteps creaked across an uncarpeted floor, drawing closer.
Linda shook her head. “Youreallyshouldn’t have come.”
“I’m only doing my job. I’m sorry if—”
A burly man pulled the front door open wider, his red plaid shirt stretched across his ample belly. Probably in his forties, the dark stubble on his face and the weary expression in his eyes suggested he’d been short of sleep for some time.
“What’s going on out here?”
Linda stepped aside. “David, this is Ms. Carrie Randall. She is—or was—Noah’s teacher for the summer.”
He shoved a hand through his thinning black hair and frowned. “So you’re the one. Why are you here?”
“The principal asked me to come for a brief visit, just to talk to you about school in the fall.”
His expression darkened. “Frankly, I don’t want Noah there at all, though my sister disagrees.”
“I still feel so badly about upsetting him, Mr. Colwell. I never meant to do that. Maybe it would help if the three of us could sit down for a talk, so he’d understand why I asked—”
“About his drawings? I handled it.”
“But—”
“Just drop it.” He folded his heavily muscled arms across his chest. “Honestly, I’d homeschool him if I could, but I’m on the road all the time and Linda dropped out of high school, so she’s afraid she doesn’t have the experience. I just want him kept away fromanyonewho might upset him. My son has suffered more than any child ever should, from the things people say to him in town.”
“I understand. Totally.” Carrie debated for a moment. “If you’re really interested in homeschooling, I can get you in touch with the local homeschool association. They offer resources and guidance.”
“I made my decision. You can tell your principal that Noah will be back. But nothing means more to me than my son. So if he comes home crying again, I’ll pull him out faster than you can say goodbye.”
He stepped back and shut the door in Carrie’s face.
Carrie stared at it for a moment, feeling as if she’d just encroached on enemy territory. Was it so wrong to ask about the child’s welfare? Was the man simply being protective, or had he tipped over into paranoia?
Maybe she’d just confirmed the answer Principal Grover wanted regarding school in the fall, but she sure hadn’t managed to establish a better rapport.
And until Linda or the boy’s father decided to open up—if ever—apparently that was how things were going to stay.
Logan had stayed overnight in the boathouse ever since the murder, and always left Murphy with Carrie in her apartment. The dog seemed to understand the new routine, because he settled down and didn’t pace and whine through the night.
On Tuesday afternoon after a long discussion, Logan finally agreed to go back to staying at his cabin...as long as Carrie kept the dog overnight and her cell phone handy.
