“That’s what I’m worried about,” Sheriff Brandt said. “Whoever’s behind this has planned for a lot of casualties. I’m afraid General Colon has more on that.”
The members of the task force focused on the military man. Many eyebrows were raised as he puckered his normally proud face in embarrassment.
“A number of days ago, what we suspect were mutated creatures from the lagoon broke into Patrick Air Force Base and stole sixteen powerful explosives. Each one can release enough force to destroy a major structure. While we’re still investigating how the theft occurred, despite the best efforts of our security, it’s imperative that we recover those explosives promptly.”
Moni’s heart swelled bigger with every beat as she imagined a cascade of fire tearing through the wall of the conference room-or worse. The African artwork would fly off the shelves in her living room before the burst of fire dumps the shattered wooden boards and nails of her roof down atop her and Mariella. If the Lagoon Watcher couldn’t capture Mariella or behead her, he might settle on simply blowing her up, along with any unfortunate soul in the same building. Still, sixteen bombs seemed excessive for one target. If her plan didn’t stop him soon, the current victim count could turn out as only a warm up before the true massacre.
“Now that everyone knows how much is at stake, I say we’re putting way too much trust in Moni’s cutesy little plan,” said Sneed, who ignored the fact that everyone else besides him and Swartzman had already committed to it. “This woman has messed up every task we’ve given her except for keeping the girl alive, which hasn’t helped us one bit because she hasn’t said a damn thing. What makes everybody think she’ll get it right this time?”
Moni had no answer for him.
Chapter 32
For once, Moni wished she could trade places with Sneed. While she sat behind the tinted windows of an undercover SUV in the staff parking lot of Challenger 7 Elementary, Sneed hung out in the security room of the school’s administration building and watched the video monitors. She hated waiting without seeing what was happening. That head-slicer, or one of his foul creations, could be on their way any moment.
Moni had done nothing with Mariella for three days besides shuttle her between the hotel and school. At no time were they out of range of at least six officers. That didn’t put her at ease. None of those officers, especially Sneed, cared about Mariella as much as she did. They made their priority catching the suspect, with the girl’s survival a distant second, Moni thought.
That Thursday, Sneed had one officer with him. Another two were stationed in a house facing the playground. One was undercover as a construction worker on the cafeteria roof and another one-a hefty man with a beer gut and a shaved head who had been one of the late Harrison’s closest friends-sat beside Moni in the SUV. Gary DeWitt didn’t even glace at Moni after she told him to stop smoking in the car with the windows rolled up. He exhaled a puff of smoke into the windshield so that it rebounded into Moni’s face. She started coughing.
“My eyes are watering,” Moni said. “I’m supposed to be looking for the suspect, but I can barely see.”
“Excuse me, but I smoke when I’m grieving,” DeWitt said. “I’m sorry, you must have forgotten what grief is.”
Everyone mistook her relief that Mariella survived the last attack as a sign that she didn’t care about Harrison’s death. That couldn’t be further from the truth. She cared, but her sorrow over his loss barely registered when the fear of losing the girl at any moment constantly hung over her like a black widow spider suspended on a web above her bed.
Besides that, the hardest part of the past three days had been ignoring the five calls a day that Darren, her ex-boyfriend, bombarded her office line with. For that reason alone, she didn’t miss living in her house all that much. Tropic would have to make due in the pet “hotel and spa”, otherwise known as a cage and water dish, until this mess is over.
Too bad she had another hater stuck with her all day. Sneed must have dumped her in that car with someone who wished her a miserable death so it would throw her off her game. He could always use another excuse for demoting her. Moni wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. She scanned the three rows of brick classrooms with the metal awnings between them. Mariella’s class was in the middle one. She also kept an eye on the eight rows of portable classrooms that had four trailers to a row. The fourth, fifth and sixth graders had the pleasure of sweating inside those pine boxes.
If anyone approached the school grounds from the south side through the parking lot, or from the east side along the classrooms and trailers, Moni would see them. They had cameras on every hallway and the view covered each door, so, technically, no one should slip by them. For three days, they had identified all suspicious people entering schools grounds and had school security intercept them. All of them had good reasons, such as a parent coming to pick up their kid early for a medical appointment. It bothered Moni that she couldn’t watch the encounters with the security guard. The Lagoon Watcher could have worn a costume and forged a doctor’s note.
Maybe my paranoid head is giving him too much credit for being clever. But if he could transform the lagoon into a bacteria-infected, acidic mess I shouldn’t put any stunt past him.
Mrs. Mint wondered whether her students noticed that she glanced out the window more often, and jumped a little every time someone opened the door unannounced. They couldn’t have known about the police sting operation, except for Mariella of course, but she couldn’t exactly tell anyone. From the lingering stares of concern on the faces of more than a few children, Mrs. Mint saw that the most perceptive students realized things weren’t quite normal.
How can I teach my class when there’s a threat from a child-napping lunatic looming over it? The officers wouldn’t be blanketing the school if they didn’t expect that he was coming. What do I do if he gets in this classroom?
Sneed had given Mrs. Mint a pen with a silent buzzer that would alarm the police. She had his number on speed dial on her cell phone. But if this psychopath evaded them-as he has been doing quite effectively since he started this killing spree-and slipped into her classroom, those toys wouldn’t hold him off. He wouldn’t stop and wait for the police. He’d hurt her, Mariella and anyone who got in his way.
Her eyes caught sight of Mariella sitting quietly in the middle of class with a pink bow in her black hair, and a purple pony on her glittery shirt. As beautiful and benign as the child appeared, Mrs. Mint couldn’t help letting resentment seep through her stare. The girl had brought so many complications and troubles into her life since the attack on her parents. Even with all her years of experience in the classroom, Mrs. Mint simply couldn’t crack through her armor of silence and help her. If only the girl would leave, things would be normal.
Mariella’s dark eyes snapped on her. Something about them didn’t seem very childlike at all. They were more like the eyes of a hawk sizing up a mouse. She immediately regretted that she had wished that the girl would leave. Losing her parents had profoundly changed Mariella and the child in her had died that day as well. She needed the help of a responsible adult to get her through this and, Lord knows, Officer Williams didn’t seem all that responsible.
Mariella just wants a home, Mrs. Mint thought. She wants to fit in and belong, but everything seems so strange now. She had only started comprehending English when she lost her parents. The girl didn’t have many friends before, and she was on her own now.
Grieving over her parents, and fighting for her life, could have completely overshadowed any desire for social acceptance the girl might have. At first, it did, but Mrs. Mint had noticed subtle changes. When other kids asked out loud for things, like a green crayon, Mariella would bring it to them. Sometimes they accepted it from her, but most times they didn’t. The Buckley twins had declared Mariella a “cootie monster,” and they’d label any kids that touched her as the same. They said that she got the cootie bug in Mexico, where Swine Flu came from. That evolved into them oinking at Mariella and calling her, “cootie swine.”