Shame, that. The critters had eaten half of the perfectly good tattoo he'd applied himself.

Thatcher strode over to the two uniformed cops and began pointing. The cops nodded and Thatcher stood back, arms crossed over his chest as another, younger man in a trenchcoat approached and ducked under the yellow tape, a black bag under his arm.

He wasn't terribly worried. There would be no physical evidence linking him to this place. The cops might find Samantha's hair or some such, but nothing from him.

He'd been careful.

He'd been smart.

Next time he'd be even smarter.

Wednesday, October 5, 7:40 A.M.

"Now let me get this straight," Casey said, her lips turned down in a frown as they hurried from the parking lot to the school. "You were making him dinner and he was being boring and then all of a sudden he became Mr. Frantic Hands? And then he left you in the lurch?"

Jenna nodded. She still felt numb. "He just…" She shrugged inside her jacket. "Walked away."

Casey pushed the door open and led the way in. "How rude."

Jenna's lips quirked up at the understatement. "That would be one word for it," she returned dryly. "I had a few others in mind."

Casey snickered. "Go, girl."

"But I of course didn't think of them until after he'd gone."

"Typical," Casey agreed, then muttered, "Look out, fearless leader at two o'clock."

Blackman. She couldn't take another brow-beating over Rudy Lutz this morning. "Maybe he didn't see me," Jenna whispered. But then he turned, met her eyes, and started walking toward her. "Shit. As if my life isn't already filled with too much fun." She stopped walking, Casey paused beside her as Blackman approached, his step faster than normal.

"Dr. Marshall," he said tightly and Jenna saw his mouth frown under his prim mustache.

"Dr. Blackman," she returned. She certainly wouldn't make it any easier for him.

"There's been another incident in your classroom."

Jenna sucked in her cheeks. "Now why does that not surprise me, Dr. Blackman?" she asked.

Blackman glared a moment. "This time it's worse, Dr. Marshall."

Jenna just looked at him. "How can it be worse? They've painted graffiti on every blackboard, white board, and blank wall, spray-painted my periodic table and my posters, and super-glued all the Erlenmeyer flasks to my lab tables. They've slashed my tires and poured water down my gas tank. What more can they possibly do?"

"Come with me," was all he said before turning on his heel and walking crisply up the stairs.

Jenna exchanged looks with Casey and followed him.

Five or six of her students gathered around her classroom door, held back by Lucas who looked angry enough to… Jenna stared at him, her gut twisting. Mad enough to kill, as the saying went.

"What is it, Lucas?" she murmured.

"Don't touch anything." Lucas growled, then lifted his arm to let her through. Then held her shoulders to keep her upright.

"Oh, God." Immediate terror clutched her heart. "Lucas." The last was little more than a whimper. She lifted her hand to her mouth and… stared. Up.

To where the carcass of… something… swung from a rope tied to a hook mounted in the ceiling tiles, a grotesque piflata.

Swinging.

Swinging.

It was almost hypnotic.

She felt Casey's arm go around her waist as she swallowed back the breakfast that threatened to choke her. "What is it?" Jenna whispered, unable to tear her eyes from the horrific sight. The room swayed and Casey's arm tightened.

"Come on, honey," Casey murmured. "Let's get you out of here."

She let Casey turn her body around, but her eyes remained fixed to whatever the poor animal- had been, her head craned like an owl's until her body ran into Lucas's. She turned her gaze then, lifting it to Lucas's familiar black eyes. Focusing on them while the swaying room came to a gradual halt. He took her chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

"You will not pass that boy," he whispered fiercely through clenched teeth. "No matter what Blackman says. You will not let them win."

Jenna shook her head, numb. "No, no I won't." She twisted, looking back at the swinging carcass over her shoulder. "Lucas-"

He grasped her chin again, making her look at him. "I'll set your classes up in the auditorium today. The kids can have study time until we clean this up." He turned to Blackman who looked decidedly grim. "Keith, you will call the police this time, or I will call them myself." He narrowed his eyes. "Then I'll call the press."

"I will call the police," Blackman responded evenly. "No need for threats, Lucas."

"And you will bring disciplinary action against Rudy Lutz and his friends." Lucas's mouth twisted around the word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.

"If the police find evidence of those responsible, I will take appropriate action."

Jenna didn't blink. "That's a big if, Dr. Blackman. What happens when these boys take the game a notch higher?"

He flinched. "I don't believe they'll take it that far," he said thinly and Jenna felt her cork pop.

Pop and fly.

She took a step toward him, pulling free of Casey's steadying arm. "'You don't believe," she said, her voice a low growl. "You don't believe?" Anger surged, blessed and raw, erasing the numbness, leaving fire in its place. She advanced another step, fists on her hips, staring down at him from atop her heels. He looked up, defiantly. Disbelievingly she shook her head. "Are you a fucking moron, Blackman?" she demanded and ignored how his mouth dropped open like a hooked fish. She pressed the tip of her finger to his scrawny chest. "Do you honestly believe these… these animals will stop on their own?" She jabbed. "Are you that unbelievably stupid?"

Blackman closed his mouth, pursed his lips. "You're out of line. Dr. Marshall. I'll forgive it this time because I understand you've had a shock, but-"

Red lights flashed in front of her eyes. "Didn't you listen to anything I said! I said they won't stop. They'll continue. Next time somebody will get hurt instead of that poor animal, whatever it was." She flung her arm backward blindly, pointing to the swinging carcass. "And then what will you say, Blackman? Sorry? Forgive me? But we won the fucking championship?" Her voice rose until the last word was delivered in close to a screech.

Lucas grabbed her arm and lowered it to her side. "This is not the time, Jen. Don't worry. I'll make sure he does the right thing."

Blackman regarded the three of them, Jenna from her towering position and Lucas and Casey flanking her from behind. "We'll speak more on this topic later. I'll go and call the authorities."

"Call Al Pullman, Investigative Division," Jenna said, her voice trembling. "He's the one who wrote the report on my tires."

"If he's available," Blackman said crisply and turned on his heel.

"Blackman." Jenna again felt steadying hands on her shoulders. Lucas's. And a hand smoothing her back. Casey's. Blackman stopped, but didn't turn around. "Call Pullman. I'll know if you don't."

Blackman slowly turned his body, his face one big scowl. "Is that a threat, Dr. Marshall?"

Jenna stared, unmoving, then jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the swinging carcass. "No. That is."

Something flickered in his eyes and he looked over her shoulder at the… thing… before turning and leaving the room. Jenna took a breath and looked into the hallway, once again seeing the students gathered around, all thirty of them by this time.

She'd forgotten all about them. Shit.

She closed her eyes. They'd heard her call the principal a fucking moron. That was most probably against the rules in the teacher handbook. But he was a fucking moron. That really should come as no surprise to any of these kids.