School of Fish (Fish Out of Water #6) - Amy Lane Page 0,85
them were shredded and covered with blood, as was the lower part of Jackson’s leg and his tennis shoe.
They had, indeed, been stitching up his ass.
Two uniformed officers were talking to him while the EMT worked, both in their late fifties, an African American woman with some iron in her hair and a lot in her spine, and a paunchy white man with hair the color of rusty ginger.
“So all you have on this guy is he was wearing cleats?” the woman—her nametag said Fetzer—was saying.
“With mud on them, like he’d just come from the football field,” Jackson said patiently, as though he was repeating himself. “We’ve gone over this.”
“We’ve gone over this with your agenda, young man, but we don’t know anything for sure.”
Jackson grimaced. “Okay, so that’s fair. My partner was just interviewing Baldwin Schroeder, one of the assistant coaches of the football team, for the same investigation we talked about yesterday. I was talking to Mrs. Eccleston, the social studies teacher. Henry came into the room, we bitched at each other like we do, and then there were bullets coming through the windows.”
“And you decided to jump out the window unarmed and confront the guy or girl shooting,” said the man, Hardison, sounding doubtful.
“Whoever was shooting wasn’t that bright,” Jackson retorted.
“And how do you know that?”
“Well, for one thing, they were shooting from the ground level. The portable is elevated about three feet. It’s why you need a ramp up to the door. That’s a lousy shot. The angle is what saved our lives. For another, after we dropped to the floor, they started shooting through the door. Now, on the one hand, that might get the teacher in the corner, but she’s got this five-hundred-pound metal Army surplus desk, boxes of books and copy paper, and file cabinets surrounding her, so that’s a hard shot to make when you’re not firing blind. And this bozo fires into the door. Well, the teacher’s a smart cookie. They offered to put Jesus lights in her ceiling—”
“What?” Fetzer said, almost like she was compelled.
“Skylights. It’s like shining the light of God down on whatever student sits under the light. So, you know, Jesus lights. Anyway, she asked for a steel-reinforced door instead, because she’s had kids try to take her room apart and thought it would be more practical.”
“Than a skylight in Sacramento in August?” Fetzer said, eyes wide. “Yeah, I can see that. Poor kids getting cooked like bugs. Anyway, so there’s a steel-reinforced door….”
“And the asshole keeps shooting into it. I waited until he emptied his clip, waved something in front of the window to make sure he didn’t have a buddy on the other side of the portable, and hopped out the window.”
The EMT at his side spoke up. “Hopped is an overstatement. You apparently sliced yourself out the window. But you’re good to go now, sir. You begged not to go to the hospital. I pulled up your chart like you asked and saw the order, so my partner called in some antibiotics and some painkillers.” She handed him a small slip of paper. “Get this filled from the pharmacy of your choice, and be sure to see a doctor if the pain persists or you pop your stitches.” Her voice went dry. “It’s that second one you probably have to worry about.”
Jackson grimaced and straightened. “Thank you. I’m obliged.”
She returned his medical card and shook her head. “You know, that thing looks really worn. Maybe you should try to minimize your risk or something. That’s a pretty high price to pay to spot a cleat with some mud on it.”
It was painful watching him try not to roll his eyes. “I’ll take that under advisement,” he said dryly and then turned to the two police officers. “So you see what I mean? Whoever shooting wasn’t that bright, and they didn’t have a clear objective other than to stop what was going on in that classroom. And I’m telling you, other than my partner eating lunch, it wasn’t that exciting.”
“What made that exciting?” asked Fetzer.
“He’d been whining about lunch on the way over. This way I knew he’d stop whining. That excites me.”
Hardison let out a snort, and Fetzer looked around, her eyes falling on Ellery. Ellery took the cue and moved closer. He didn’t reach out and touch Jackson, as much as he wanted to, and Jackson’s gentle tap on his arm was more than he could have asked for.