Shadow Dancer (The Shadow Series Book 1) (6 page)

“They’re not in Russia!” Tristan said shaking her head in disbelief. “Florida, Dad. The Sunshine State.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

Rolling her eyes at her father, Tristan grabbed her backpack off the floor of the foyer and headed for the front door. Walking through the broad doorway, she met Adam and Liam on the front porch, deep in conversation. As soon as they
saw her, their voices hushed, and their serious faces turned warm. Tristan couldn't help but wonder if they had been talking about her. The thought disappeared when the rest of her siblings tried to push their way out the door, moving her aside.

Two hours later,
after family had eaten breakfast at Jack's favorite diner, Monte's, the restaurant Cole's father owned, they arrived in the gravel parking lot of the Steeplechase Academy. A massive building of stone and granite, Steeplechase looked more like a bank or a mansion than a school. With four floors of classrooms, a large school yard, a playground, and a gymnasium, Steeplechase appears to be more along the lines of a college than a high school. A prestigious school with a strong academic foundation and flourishing athletic program, the only reason Jack could afford the tuition payments was due to a hearty payout from a life insurance policy.

The moment the vehicle pulled into the parking space, Tommy and Shane jumped out of the
truck to join their buddies Cole and Dominic, who were standing by the entrance of the school. Tristan and Blake followed at a slower, more leisurely pace. Tristan definitely was not in a rush to get to class. Liam meanwhile headed across the street to Harry’s Hardware Store where he worked part-time.

Tristan tugged on Blake's arm, “Hold on a sec. I have to say goodbye to Dad.” She ran back to her father's silver truck and kissed her father goodbye, leaving him with a surprised look on his face. She would be the only child to say goodbye to him that morning. Jack
remained in the driver's seat for a moment as he glanced at his eldest son Adam.

"Can we bury this for a few hours?” said Jack referring to their exchange from the previous evening. I need your help with something.”

Adam nudged his broad shoulders as he exited the truck and began to walk towards the school. Casually, he glanced back at his father and asked, "You coming, or what?”

Jack replied, "Yeah, just keep me calm."

* * *

Jack and Adam walked into the marble foyer of the Steeplechase Academy where they were greeted by Melissa Kent, one of Adam's
former classmates. "Hey, Ad! What are you doing here?" Melissa asked with a charming smile. Adam followed the young receptionist into the school office, with his father following behind.

"I just thought I would pay my good friend Melissa here a visit," said Adam convincingly.

Behind Adam, Jack rolled his eyes like a little school girl. Clearly, his son was not going to offer the back- up he so desperately needed today. Melissa began to search through her desk drawer for two visitor passes. In a feminine and flowery cursive, she wrote their names on a tag, and handed one to each of them. Jack took his name tag, peeled off the back and gently placed it on his blue polo shirt. He then gave his eldest son a reproachful glare as Adam continued to eye up the pretty receptionist.

"Am I to understand that you’re going to stay here?" asked Jack with an incredulous tone to his voice.

"Yeah, I'll wait for you right here," Adam said with a smile as he winked at Melissa. Rolling his eyes, Jack exited the office and made his way up to the second floor. The hallways were eerily quiet; class must have already begun. It seemed so strange to be walking through the halls of Steeplechase. Somehow he remembered the school as being much bigger than it was. Strangely enough it looked exactly the same, only much, much smaller. Slowly, he wandered to room 219, where Bernard Kendricks was teaching his first period English class. Jack took a breath before knocking on the heavy classroom door. After a moment, he opened the door and stood in the entryway as he waited for the teacher's attention. Jack noticed as he entered that all the children in the room stopped chatting and fidgeting and sat perfectly still; all eyes were upon him. Even the four children who lived in the Morrow household didn't dare move a muscle. Cole, trying to get on Jack’s good side, waved with a smile.

“Hey, Mr. M!”

Classroom 219 was filled to the brim with students sitting at their tiny desks, all dressed in matching uniforms of slate gray and scarlet. In the heart of the classroom sat Tristan, surrounded by a troublesome group of boys. In front of Tristan sat Cole, who had gone back to doodling in a notebook. To Tristan's left sat Shane, looking surprised to see his uncle in the classroom. Jack now understood what Shane meant when he said he had the perfect person to copy off of in English class. On Tristan's opposite side was Blake, looking bored and sleepy, while in the back sat Tommy with a huge grin on his face, acting like he was going to shoot a spit ball at his father. Jack gave Tommy a death glare and motioned for Tommy to stop acting like a fool.

Bernard Kendricks
stood at the chalkboard reading Shakespearean verse to his class when he noticed he had a visitor. He was a lean man with thinning blond hair, there was a handsome quality to his face, but it was overridden by his uptight mannerisms and snooty up-turned nose. When the teacher heard the noise cease in the classroom, he turned around, peering condescendingly over his black wire-rimmed glasses. Jack had patiently waited for him to stop talking, crossing his arms across his chest, the muscles of his arm bulging as his jaw tensed.

He glared at the teacher
and said, “A word, please?”

Jack stepped back out into the hallway as he waited for the teacher to follow. Stress apparent on his face, it took all the strength in his body to stay calm and even-keeled. It was not simply the assignment that had him on edge. Jack Morrow and Bernard Kendricks have a
rocky history, and the two of them go way back. To put it plainly, Jack Morrow would knock Kendricks’ perfect teeth down his throat if the opportunity presented itself. Bernard Kendricks stepped out into the hallway with an agitated expression on his face.

“Yes?” he asked, as if he wasn't the one who initiated this meeting.

“You called…” reminded Jack.

“Ah, yes... the assignment. I continuously encounter problems wi
th your children not handing in this particular assignment.”

"Tristan is trying to complete the assignment. I've seen it myself."

"And the others? They do not have a good track record,” explained Kendricks curtly.

"The boys will be handing their assignments in. At least the subject
matter is something that they are comfortable with. I have to say, you knew exactly what you were doing!" Jack rebutted, anger clear on his face.

"Must you be so dense? The assignments were divvied out randomly."

"I find that a little hard to believe. I know you see the resemblance. I know you remember the history. My wife. Blake told me some of the other children’s assignments. Cole has to write about Maria who passed away when he was a baby? Cory Dennison has to write about his father who is in jail? What good will this do? I was also told that if this assignment isn't damn near perfect that you'll fail them."

"You heard correc
tly. This is not grammar school, or PS132! I expect my students to be independent thinkers and solid researchers. If they do not hand in a thorough report and bring forth a solid oral presentation, they will fail my class. And as I said before, the assignment was given out at random. A little challenge will do them good."

"You know this is a sensitive subject for my family," complained Jack.

"It was not directed solely towards your family," Bernard explained.

"Then why does it seem you are taking great pleasure in holding your students’ misfortune against them? Leave my daughter alone, or you’ll have
me
to answer to!"

Bernard laughed at the man before him. Six feet, five inches of cowardice is what he thought of Jack; the venom that he needed to take him down was on his tongue, but he held it back.

"Hey Kendricks, you've got real nerve. You're the same weasel you were in high school!"

Jack turned on his heel in a huff as he began to storm down the corridor of the Steeplechase School, when Bernard couldn't help but allow the venom to slip through his lips.

"At least I would have the courage to tell my children the truth! You may have won her then, but look how it all turned out!" Kendricks continued, "If Tristan, Thomas and Blake do not hand in their essays they will get an F on the project. Not only does that mean that Thomas and Blake will be on academic probation,
again
, but it also means that Tristan will find herself off the honor roll for the first time since she’s started at Steeplechase. She’s a brilliant girl. Don’t allow her record to be sullied because of your foolish pride. It’s your call - do it, or don’t do it. The firm fact remains that if that project is not handed in, there will be serious repercussions.”

Jack looked Bernard straight in the eye. “Now that you've spelled it out for me, I've decided that they will not be handing in the essay after all.”

“Is this how you teach your children responsibility? Or is it simply that you are running away from the truth? I think the school counselor would be interested in hearing about this.”

Jack turned on his heel slowly and focused his eyes on his children’s English teacher and his former high school enemy. Bernard took in his features slowly and felt a quiver move down his back. Jack walked slowly, but with each movement it was apparent that Jack was using every ounce of his strength to keep
from losing his cool on the Steeplechase English teacher. Jack didn’t stop walking until he was toe to toe with Bernard, with eight inches of height over Kendricks, Jack was not someone with whom you wanted to start trouble. Bernard was all too familiar with that notion.

"Is that a threat?
!" asked Jack incredulously.

"No, I am their teacher," Bernard firmly responded. "If they do not hand it in, I will fail them."

"Is it possible that Tristan can write an essay on another relative, use another family member such as a grandmother or aunt or possibly her grandfather?" asked Jack sensibly.

"That was not the assignment. Good day to you. I have a class to teach," Bernard said as he tried to slither away from Jack.

"I will go to the dean and report you. You are meddling, once again. You did the same thing when Adam and Liam were in your class too. And let’s not forget the
hell
you put my wife through. You'll get more than a slap on the wrist this time, I assure you. Do not test me," replied Jack with a heated expression clear upon his face.

A sly grin emerged across Bernard Kendricks’ face, "The fact remains
that you still have not told your children the truth about their mother."

Jack, reaching his breaking point of control, took one finger and firmly pressed into the chest of Mr. Kendricks.

"
That
is none of your business. Your job is to teach my children English, not pry into personal matters! Press the issue, and I'll have your job this time."

Bernard puffed out his chest, and bravely stated in a hushed voice, “
You
are the reason she is dead, and you don’t want to explain that to anyone.”

As a look of contempt grew in Jack’s eyes, Bernard allowed a smile to curl from his lips. Finally, Jack retorted, “We both know the reason she is dead is because of you. You might have been able to
hoodwink the police, but you don’t fool me for a second.”

* * *

In classroom 219, bouts of chatter erupted while their
teacher was temporarily disposed. Bets in the form of juice boxes and a stiff wager of a dollar seventy-five in quarters were placed on Joey Binn’s desk as theories were forming and the general population of 219 was under the impression that Mr. Kendricks was getting his ass kicked in the hallway by Jack Morrow.

"Five bucks says Mr. Kendricks comes back with a black eye," replied a plump boy with spiky blond hair named Ellis.

"I say ten," quipped Kevin, a hyper kid who sat in the front of the class.

"Hey, Tommy, ain't that your dad?" asked Kelly, a girl with short frizzy hair. Tommy laughed
while Tristan nervously tapped her fingers against her desk.

Blake, who was sitting quietly in his desk behind her, thankful for the momentary reprieve from iambic pentameter, tapped Tristan on the shoulder.

"It will be okay, you know. He'll set him straight," Blake explained. With a smile he leaned back in his chair without care just in time to see Mr. Kendricks walk back through the doorway. His face red, his eyes wild. Mr. Kendricks looked like he had something malicious up his sleeve.

"Attention, children," said Mr. Kendricks as he peered over his
classroom full of teenagers crammed into tiny desks. "Regardless of what you may have heard, the Biography Assignment is required curriculum. Any student who fails to hand it in, will receive a failing grade in this class."

The look on Tristan’s face said it all. A mixture of anger, frustration and exhaustion washed across her features. As the tears welled in her eyes she rushed out of the classroom. Tommy, concerned about his sister’s well-being, rallied.