CHAPTER 2
"Hey pard, how ya doin'?" Chuck Wylie was headed toward the home of one of his former girlfriends and had been expecting the call from Matt.
"I'm doin' – headed to the Carson house as we speak. What's your plan?" Houston turned west on Atascocita Road.
"Well...hope like hell that Sherri ain't still mad at me after all these years." Giving a laugh he thought back.
"I tried to warn you – there wasn't any point in trying to make Lisa jealous."
"I know – the stupidity of a teenage boy. Anyway, I'm just gonna talk to her and see if she has any idea of what might be going on."
"Alright. Do you know anything about the Carsons?"
"Not really – just that they've been fighting back and forth with the Donellys for ages. Uncle Ferris used to say the whole thing started over cattle."
"That's what I always heard. Okay, talk to you in little while." As he turned north onto Crosby Huffman Road the cowboy hung up. While he didn't mind helping out the department, he had been hoping to get in a few hours of work on the simulator that night. His days were going to be busy working on the bunkhouse plans, getting the old one completely demolished and the debris hauled away; he had planned to knock out most of the work on the simulator at night. Driving the rest of the nearly forty five minute journey gave him time to at least think about some of the scenarios that would be important for the program.
Pulling up outside the Carson home on Buckboard Drive he looked at his watch: almost 9:00PM. He could hear the sound of kids nearby as well as splashing water. Going up the front walk, he rang the doorbell and waited, then rang it again. A minute later it was opened by a woman about his age who looked surprised to see a deputy on her front steps. "May I help you?"
"I sure hope so – Detective Matt Houston – HCSO." He showed the badge and clipped it back on his belt. "Is this the Carson home?"
"It is."
"Ma'am, there was a tip called in to the department warning that there might be some trouble at Norton Middle School. I understand you have a child who attends there?"
"My son Erik...but he's here – has been since about 3:30."
"That's good. Uh..." He looked around noticing that a couple of the neighbors were now watching their conversation. "Would it be okay if I came in?"
"I'm sorry – sure – please. Would you like a drink?"
"No ma'am, but thank you." He stepped into the living room removing his cap.
"Please – have a seat. Now I don't understand what's going on."
"We don't know exactly when the trouble might happen, but given your family's history with..."
"Don't tell me those damn Donellys are at it again." A man of about forty with a beer bottle in hand came in from the back of the house, his swimming trunks dripping water on the carpet.
"Sir, we don't know who called it in, we just..."
"You're just here trying to pin it on us."
"No sir. The sheriff thought that given the history between the two families it might be wise to come talk to you and see if there was any connection. Practically anyone could be involved – we're not pointing fingers."
"Like hell you aren't. You're here aren't you?"
"Drake, you're being rude."
"Sir, do you know if your son has had any threats made against him?"
"No, I don't and even if I did I wouldn't be running to the damn cops like the Donellys." Finishing the remainder of the beer he took the bottle by the neck and turned it upside down, a few drops landing on the carpet as he approached Houston. "Now get out."
"Enough!" Mrs. Carson stepped between the two as the detective stood up.
"Mr. Carson, I would really like to talk to your son for myself; I don't want anyone to get hurt."
"Is that a threat?! Am I supposed to be scared?!" He pushed past his wife and advanced.
"Sir, you need to stop right there. I didn't threaten you in any way – I meant I didn't want any of the kids at the school to get hurt."
"Think you're big time coming in a man's own home and accusing him..."
Mrs. Carson got between them again. "You're drunk – now settle down."
"Shut up, Angie..." He pushed her causing her to lose her footing and fall on the couch, stumbling himself in the process. Matt took the opportunity to grab his arm and spin him around, shoving his face into the cushions of the couch and placing him in handcuffs.
"Mr. Carson, you're under arrest for domestic assault." He recited the man's Miranda rights as a string of curses issued from his mouth. Two boys came into the room, both looking shocked. "Sit down and hush; you don't really want these boys to hear all that do you?"
"Drake, hush!" Angie Carson was now crying. "You're just making it worse."
Above the sounds of Carson cursing at both him and his wife and her sobs, Matt called for a patrol car to ferry his prisoner to the jail for booking. "Mrs. Carson, do you need an ambulance?"
"No, I'll be okay. I just twisted my wrist." She wiped away a few tears as her husband kept a string of curses flowing.
Leaning over the man, Matt lowered his voice and spoke where only Carson could hear him, causing the irate man to immediately shut up. "Thank you." Turning back to Angie he calmly spoke. "Ma'am, I'd really just like to ask your son if he's been having any problems – that's all I needed in the first place." Two deputies came to the front door and the detective helped the prisoner up from the couch and handed him over, waiting as the handcuffs were changed out and he was given back his pair. "I'll catch up to you shortly, fellas. Appreciate it."
Both of the boys were now sitting next to their mother on the couch trying to calm her as Matt came back. "Guys, I'm sorry y'all had to see that. Now..." He looked at the older of the two boys. "I'm willing to bet you're Erik."
"Yes sir."
"My names Houston. I need to ask you a couple of questions if it's okay with your mom." He looked to the woman who nodded. "Have you been threatened by anyone at school?" The boy froze for a second.
"Tell him, son – it's okay – he just wants to help." She wrapped her right arm around him.
"Well...kinda. I mean, it isn't anything recent."
"Can you tell me about it?" He pulled out a notebook and sat down in the chair again.
"Tristan...he uh...well he said he would kick my butt."
"Tristan got a last name?"
"Donelly."
"So why'd he say it?" Shrugging, the boy looked down at his hands. "Let me tell you why I'm here and maybe you'll understand why I need all the details from you." Matt told him about the call. "Now...tell me what you know."
"He's always...ya know, he's a Donelly; they hate us."
"Did anything happen to make him say that?" He watched as the boy shrugged again and looked down, knowing full well that there was more to the story. Waiting a minute he sighed. "I'm just trying to keep anybody from getting hurt at school, okay? Help me out, pard."
"That's it." He looked back up at the detective who after another pause turned his attention back to Angie.
"Ma'am, I really think that wrist needs to be checked out and I've got some papers that I'd like for you to sign back at the office."
"Mom, it looks pretty bad." The younger boy nodded his agreement.
"I don't want to leave them here."
"They can go, too. I've got room."
"Okay, y'all go get some shoes on..." She watched as they left the room and then hollered after them. "And a shirt..." Looking back at Matt she shook her head. "Drake has had a really rough time lately. Business is tough. If he hadn't been drinking..."
"I'm sorry but I had to do it – it's automatic when we see something like that – and he obviously injured you." The boys were back in a minute and all four went to Matt's truck and headed to the nearest emergency room, calling Chuck en route to let him know that he would be out of pocket for a while.
Sitting out in the waiting room with the two boys who were both looking upset, Matt began talking to them. "I don't know about y'all but I could sure use something to drink about now." Both nodded. "Let's go see what they've got." The three went over to a vending machine as he pulled change out of his pocket. "I'm good – they've got root beer." He put in the money and pushed the button. "Whatcha want?"
"Fizzy Pop is good." Erik pushed the button.
"I've never had root beer." The younger boy gave the detective a questioning look.
"Well you won't try it any younger, will ya?" He put in more change and the boy hit the button, all three then returned to their seats and opened the bottles, the cowboy taking a long swig.
"This is pretty good." The younger boy nodded and took another sip. After a minute of quiet he looked at Houston again. "How long have you been a cop?"
Laughing, the detective pushed the ball cap back on his head. "Less than a year."
"How'd you get to be a detective?"
"Well...I was in Army Intelligence a few years back, then I opened a detective agency when I got out..." He gave the boy a quick run-down of events ending with his being sworn in right before the previous Christmas.
"You live in LA but you're a detective here?"
"Sounds strange." Matt nodded. "But yeah, the sheriff calls me in from time to time. Kinda like tonight." He looked at Erik. "She's worried that you or some of your classmates might get hurt. That's why she sent me to talk to you tonight."
The boy looked down at his hands again. "Dad says that we shouldn't tell the police about any of the problems with the Donellys."
"No offense but he's wrong, Erik. Is it worth somebody getting hurt? What about your friends at school? And you know, it may not even have anything to do with y'all – maybe somebody didn't do their homework and is looking for a way out." He took another swig waiting but the boy stayed silent. Pulling out his phone he called the ranch to let CJ know that he was going to be a while and when he hung up, set it down on his leg. The younger boy saw a picture of Catey sitting on her dad's lap with a video game controller in her hands.
"Is that your daughter?"
"Yep – Catey Rose."
"What's she playing?"
"She thinks she's playing Alien Armory 3." He gave a laugh.
"You've got video games?"
"I make video games."
"No way."
"Yep." He saw the look of disbelief on the boy's face. "You got that one at home?"
"Yes sir."
"Look on the credits for Mattlock Houston...that's me." He pulled his department ID card out of his pocket and showed the boy.
"How...why do you do that if you're a detective?"
"Well...it's fun for one thing. And I help out a lot of kids with the money."
"Just how many kids do you have?" The tone of amazement in the boy's voice set Matt to laughing.
"Well, I've got Catey, and a son that we adopted not too long ago – and my wife is expecting twins. But I've set up trust funds for other kids, too; college costs a lot of money these days."
By the time Angie Carson was released with a badly sprained wrist it was almost 11:00. They went to the Sheriff's Department where Matt began on the paperwork for Carson's arrest and tried again to get Erik to talk to him with no success. He returned the family home around midnight and then called Martinez to update her as he drove home. The new plan was for Chuck and himself to go to the school the next day and along with school security try to keep the peace.
By 6:00AM he was leaving the ranch and headed to the middle school. Dialing Chuck's number again he posed a question that he had been mulling over since pulling out of the driveway. "Vest or no vest?"
"Good mornin' to you, too. Vest. Can't be sure what will happen. Heard you got more than you bargained for last night."
"Yeah...felt kinda bad having to do it with his boys standing there but I didn't have any choice."
"Zero-tolerance on domestic violence – that's the way it works. Maybe he'll learn something."
"I hope. Oh, I almost forgot – Madre Rosa sent some churros; I'm still trying to decide if it's a cop/donut joke..."
"I don't care – I'll eat 'em anyway."
"Thought so. So what did you find out from Sherri Donelly?"
"Not much. She said that her dad had kept her brothers in check as far as the feud went when he was alive, but he died a couple of years ago and things have started going downhill. She's got twins – boy and girl – who are both in the eighth grade now."
"Is the boy named Tristan?"
"Yeah."
"Erik Carson mentioned him last night."
"Well, both of the kids denied knowing anything about a threat."
"Yeah, Erik did, too. See ya." Arriving at the school about forty five minutes later he parked next to Chuck who had just pulled in himself and immediately made a grab for the bag of pastries.
"Ummm..." He nodded his approval, eyes closed and a look of bliss on his face. "Madre Rosa is the greatest."
"I'll be sure to tell Lisa you said that."
"You do and I'll tell CJ something."
"What?"
"Don't know – I'll make something up if I have to..."
"Time to act like a grown up; that looks like the principal." Matt finished slapping the Velcro closures on his vest into place and took the radio that Chuck handed him as they were approached by a woman in her forties.
"Good morning; I'm Vickie Ortega – the principal."
"Detectives Houston and Wylie." They shook and Matt looked around. "So the kids get here at what time?"
"The buses are about to start rolling in. I just wanted to let you know that in addition to our usual two SRO's the school board has sent out two more. I really appreciate you two coming to help."
"Well, maybe it was just a hoax – somebody bored and looking for a little fun." Chuck looked over his shoulder as a bus approached. "Have you got a diagram we can look at – get to know the layout of the school a little?"
"Sure thing." She opened her notebook and pulled two pieces of paper out. "I thought y'all might need that."
"Thanks." Both men hurriedly looked it over.
"Ms. Ortega, this summer session: is it for advanced students or the ones that need to make up some grades?"
"Both. We've even worked out arrangements so that some of our advanced students tutor some of the kids who need extra help. Sometimes a student can find a way to explain something that clicks for another student."
"That's true." Matt nodded. "Alright pard – how do you want to work it?"
"Do the kids go straight to their classrooms when they go in?"
"They do." Ortega watched as her students began going through the front doors, the usual chatter and laughing making it sound like an ordinary day.
"Well, I guess just patrol the halls and stand by in case anything should happen. Wanna flip for the first or second floor?" He grinned as he pulled a quarter from his pocket.
"Alright." Matt thought for a minute. "Tails."
"Okay...man, how did I know you would get it?"
"'Cause I'm me, that's why. Now give me the churros." The cowboy snatched the bag away from his buddy and held it out to the principal.
"Ooh, this is delicious." She thanked him.
Pulling two from the bag, Matt handed it back to Chuck who cheered up considerably. "I got dibs on the upstairs." He headed for the stairwell, looked back over his shoulder and gave his buddy a grin.
"How long have you two been partners?"
"About thirty years now – we met the first day of kindergarten." Chuck cracked up and began walking the hallways, the sounds of chatter, laughter, and slamming locker doors bringing back memories of his childhood.
Matt began upstairs by turning left at the top of the steps and walking north along the crowded hallway, only drawing momentary looks from some of the students, and thinking to himself that things had really changed since he was in school. A cop of any kind walking down the hallway back then would have drawn more than a glance – a sign of the times he supposed, but one that left him feeling a little sad. As he neared the north end of the hallway he caught sight of a short kid who was surrounded by three bigger boys. Somehow the cowboy doubted it was a friendly conversation. "Mornin', guys." The three jumped, turning to see who was speaking and then disappeared. "Everything okay?" He looked at the kid who seemed relieved and nodded. "Alright."
Making his way down the rest of the hallway he looked out the windows at the end of the hall and glanced down into the parking lot. Everything looked normal and he turned and started back to the south. Halfway down he met up with one of the school resource officers.
"Hollis Warner." The officer held out his hand.
"Matt Houston." He gestured around. "Do you usually work here?"
"Yep, this is my school. Went here as a kid. Kinda sad to see how things are now."
"Uh huh, I was just thinking the same thing."
"I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary."
"Think I mighta stopped some kid from getting a wedgie or loosing his lunch money but other than that – nothing."
"Guess some things never change." Both men shook their heads. "Well, back to it."
"Yep." Matt went on down the hallway, wandering into the restroom as his nostrils picked up the smell of pot. Down in the end stall he found a kid who had just taken a couple of puffs and was about to pass it to another. He reached out and snatched it out of his hand, pinching off the end that was lit. "Not a good idea, pard." Looking at the scared face of the other boy. "Did you smoke any?"
"N..no sir."
He looked back to the kid who's shirt collar he now was holding. "Did he smoke any of it yet?"
"No."
"Get your butt to class – now." He watched as the kid took off running. "C'mon..." Hauling the boy out of the bathroom he started downstairs and went to the office. Principal Ortega was inside talking to a parent when he walked in.
"Detective?"
"Got one that was lighting up." He handed over the joint.
"David..." She pointed to her office. "Thanks. I'll get it taken care of..."
"Yes ma'am." Going back up the stairs he resumed his patrol and as the bell rang, there were a few kids making a run for the classroom doors and then everything got quiet. He met back up with Warner.
"Saw you taking David downstairs; let me guess – pot?"
"Yep. Guess it wasn't his first time."
"Nope – but it'll be his last. He's used up all his chances. Damn shame really – he's a smart kid – except when it comes to that."
The cowboy turned and looked up the hallway. "Is there a female officer here?"
"There is – she should be up here by now – must have been busy downstairs. She usually checks the girls' restroom."
"I wondered – didn't really want to go in there."
"Nope." They stood talking, both looking around to be certain that no one was out in the hallways.
"Well..." Matt sighed. "This could sure make for a long day."
"Everyday is a long day."
Matt's radio squawked. "Houston..."
"Yeah, Chuck."
"Need you to come downstairs...gotta have your autograph."
"Alright." Turning he went back down and to the office where a patrol officer had been sent to take his pot-smoking collar to juvenile. He signed the papers and looked at the boy who didn't look worried in the least. Shaking his head he watched as the kid was led out to the cruiser. Starting back out the door he stopped and turned back. "Ms. Ortega...do the Donelly kids and Erik Carson have any classes together?"
"Let me see." Going behind the counter she began punching keys on the computer. "They do as a matter of fact. Julie Donelly and Erik Carson are both in an advanced Math class right now."
"What about Tristan?"
"He...is in an advanced History class."
"Are they on the same floor?"
She nodded. "Upstairs; the Math class is in 212 and the History is in 217."
"How long do the classes last?"
"Four hours, but we have a thirty minute break at 9:15. Everyone comes down to the cafeteria for a snack."
"Thanks." As he exited the office Chuck was approaching.
"Heard you had a smoker."
"Uh huh - pakalolo."
"Paka who?"
"It's Hawaiian for pot."
"Oh."
"I was just talking to the principal; the Donellys and Erik Carson are all upstairs. The girl and Carson are in one class and Tristan is in another. They get a break at 9:15 and everybody goes to the cafeteria."
"Alright." He sighed. "Remember all those times we cut class?"
"Uh huh."
"Now I remember why – this is boring." Snickering he walked back up the hallway as Matt just grinned and went back up the stairs, running into the female officer in passing. "Everything quiet up there?"
"Sure is – perfect little angels." She rolled her eyes. "Darla Ponce."
"Matt Houston. Guess I better get back up there." Back up on the second floor he resumed walking up and down the hallway. At 9:15 the bell rang and all the kids came spilling out of the doorways and went down to the cafeteria. Shrugging, he and Warner went that way as well and entered the cafeteria where the kids cut up and talked.
Warner met Chuck and they stood watching the kids. "I think somebody was just looking to make a little excitement – there's nothing going on."
Vickie Ortega approached the group and noticed Houston scanning the faces. "Is something wrong?"
"I don't see Erik Carson."
After a minute she shook her head. "I don't either."
"What about the Donellys?"
Looking again concern showed on her face. "They aren't here either."
"Did they all show up today?"
"Everyone is here today – no absences – the only one who's gone is David Parrish."
Exchanging a look with Chuck, Houston turned and went toward the stairwell, quickly but quietly going up to the second floor. As he reached the landing between floors he heard a gunshot and a scream.