"Yes, I understand. We'll head over soon, and get this cleared up... yes. Goodbye."
Danny Hebert hung up the kitchen phone, a heavy weight settling in his stomach. With only a slight tremor in his fingers, he started going through his work duffel bag and found the black cell issued to him, then sent off a couple of texts, explaining that he was going to be late getting in today. He could hear Taylor moving around upstairs as she got ready for the day, and he slipped the phone back into the black bag before she could come down the stairs and see it. That done, he set about finding some granola bars she could eat on the way.
Winslow had just called.
Danny didn't believe for a second that his Taylor had set thugs on Emma Barnes, the two were thick as thieves... or, they had been. Emma hadn't come around for quite some time now, and Taylor never mentioned her. But even if the girls had drifted apart, that didn't mean Taylor would do something like this. Taylor was a good girl. Taylor was a smart girl.
...but.
But. That small seed of doubt was a loathsome thing, and Danny hated it. He'd tried to pluck at its roots, but for everything he brushed aside there was something else to take its place. Taylor never mentioning friends at school, Taylor being out and about at all hours of the day, Taylor putting clothes in the laundry hamper full of mud and odd stains. Maybe she'd lost touch with Emma. Maybe she'd developed a taste for movies, or walking along the Boardwalk. Maybe she'd taken up a sport— a rough one, like soccer. Maybe sometime soon she'd bring up the three-hundred-and-some-change charge on his credit card, and there'd be a reasonable explanation for that, too.
Or maybe she'd made some friends who weren't entirely on the straight and narrow. Maybe she was getting into something over her head. Danny sighed. None of this would have happened if Annette were still alive.
Danny tapped his fingers on the countertop, and waited. Shouldn't Taylor have come downstairs by now, to make some cereal or something? He glanced at the clock— 7:13. The seed twined its roots a little deeper; Danny himself always left at 7:15, on the dot. He glanced at the stairs, then at the clock again. Danny grabbed his keys and walked out the front door, started his car, then left the engine running and closed the door with enough force to be heard. Then he walked back inside, opening the front door as quietly as he could.
Taylor came down the stairs, wearing a red skirt and white blouse, and with her backpack nowhere in sight. She spotted him in the kitchen and froze, eyes wide. The seed grew deeper.
"Taylor," he said, keeping his voice carefully even. "I'm driving you to school today. No buts."
* * *
It was a cold and silent ride. Even the weather was gloomy, a gray cover of clouds with no rain in sight.
When they arrived at the school, Taylor's father did not drop her off. Instead, he exited the vehicle first, then came around to the passenger side to escort her into the building himself. They didn't stop there: Danny marched beside her as they passed her classroom and headed down the long hallways towards the Principal's Office. Taylor spotted Yuuta on the way, trying to attract her attention. Behind him, Haru saw the thunderous look on her dad's face and pulled the other teen into a different hallway. Danny and Taylor kept walking, and her heart beat twice or more for every step.
Emma and Mr. Barnes were already sitting with Blackwell, of course. Of course they would arrive early, to express how awful the situation was, and how terrible it must be for Emma to... whatever this was about. Friday's altercation, most likely. The redhead looked unusually frazzled, but her eyes when she looked at Taylor were as snakelike shrewd as ever. Danny moved to shake Mr. Barnes' hand— Alan refused.
"Gentlemen, please, take a seat. I've got another meeting coming along shortly and I'd like to get this taken care of quickly." Blackwell steepled her fingers together, and looked between Taylor and Emma. "Now, Miss Barnes is alleging that Taylor incited a number of students suspected to be involved in gang activities against her. There was an incident last Friday, wherein the cafeteria staff heard raised voices and came to find Miss Barnes being confronted by several known troublemakers. Miss Hebert, were you present for this?"
"She ran off and all her little gang friends decided to— "
"I ran off because you threw ink in my face!"
"Ms. Blackwell, do you have any records that might support such an accusation?" Alan interrupted. The principal glowered, but allowed it. Danny Hebert was silent, save for the creak of wooden armrests beneath his fingers.
"There was nothing reported to the school nurse, or to any other staff, no." Blackwell pinched the bridge of her nose. "Although, over the past year Miss Hebert has complained frequently of aggression from Miss Barnes, as well as a few other students."
"...Taylor, you haven't mentioned anything like this to me."
"And those complaints were unfounded, I'm sure," Alan Barnes nodded. "It's sounding to me like Taylor's been trying to get Emma into trouble for some reason. Perhaps a grudge. Does that sound possible to you, Ms. Blackwell?"
The principal hedged a bit, saying, "I'm not sure that's the first explanation I'd come to, but..."
"And it's awfully convenient that Taylor could have a reason to be seen leaving, right before some unsavory students threatened the girl she's had her attentions on for a year or more."
"Alan, this isn't a courtroom," Danny hissed. The lawyer waved a hand in dismissal.
"The same logic applies, Danny. You need evidence— anything else is just slander. Defamation of character. Emma has witnesses to this incident, all Taylor has is pointed fingers. If you keep pressing the point, it will go to court, and we both know who can last longer in that ring." Taylor's father gaped at the man. "I take Emma's well-being very seriously, Danny. Maybe you haven't been watching your girl as well as you should have."
Taylor saw her dad stiffen beside her, but when he didn't say anything further, the fragile hold Taylor had on her own version of the Hebert Family Temper snapped.
"Why the hell aren't you saying anything?!" She exploded, rising from her chair so quickly it knocked the furniture over with a loud clatter. Blackwell tried to speak over her, but Taylor was louder. "You think I poured ink on my own face? This is why I haven't mentioned anything to you! Because you don't listen to me, you listen to anyone but me! You talk to anyone but me! You spend time with anyone BUT ME!"
"Taylor, sit down! You've been acting strange all summer, and now— "
"You don't listen, the teachers don't listen— nobody does!" Taylor fisted her hands in her hair, her breath coming in hitches and gasps. "Nobody listens to me except— !" The door slammed open.
"What in blazes is going on in here?!" The voice was familiar, but the tone was so far out of expectation that Taylor couldn't help staring. Old Mr. Henrick was standing in the doorway, a middle-aged man in a suit behind him. Mrs. Blackwell stood up, looking like she'd just swallowed a lemon.
"Ah, Mr. Henrick, Mr. Stevenson— my apologies, but I'm going to be a bit delayed. Why don't you continue your tour while I deal with this?"
"Like hell I will. Susan Blackwell, what is this all about?"
Both Danny and Alan's faces were red with anger, but it was the lawyer who spoke. "This is a private matter, and you have no business being in here!"
Ms. Blackwell coughed. "Mr. Barnes, this is Mr. George Henrick and Mr. Clive Stevenson, the former and current superintendents of this district. They have every right to be here." Mr. Barnes' face didn't seem to know if it wanted to blanch or flush further.
"Still not answering me, Blackwell. Taylor— what's going on?"
Taylor blinked, then hastily wiped at her face. "Emma stole my inkpot on Friday, then splashed it in my face. Some other kids finally stood up for me, so now Emma's saying I sicced gang members on her."
"Uh huh. I remember you runnin' home in tears that day." Old Mr. Henrick's eyes were shrewd. "I've had my suspicions— has she been giving you a hard time for a while now?" At her nod, Old. Mr. Henrick hissed a breath through his teeth.
"Blackwell, I hope for your sake you've been addressing this. I've watched Taylor Hebert come home in tears more times than I care to count."
"Look— Mr. Henrick— " Alan Barnes gestured, drawing attention away from Taylor and back onto him. "You have to understand, I don't know what's between my daughter and his, but there's been witness accounts with some pretty bad implications, here. Taylor's been seen talking with suspected gang members, levering accusations against upstanding students— I even hear her own grades took a pretty sharp drop, when before she was such a clever girl. Danny, have you thought about having her tested for drugs?"
"Mr. Barnes, is it?" Old Mr. Henrick interrupted. "Your voice carries, you know. Good for a courtroom. Not so good when you're threatening lawsuits with intent to bankrupt the other party. Do the words 'moral turpitude' mean anything to you?" Mr. Barnes' mouth snapped shut with a click. "And as for implying that Taylor here's not an upstanding student— I have no idea what her grades are like. But I know what she's like. She does chores and yard work for the missus and I. She's out walking her dog, every day, rain or shine. She's out gardening an' planting trees in poorer sections of town, just because she can and because they need a bit of color." Old Mr. Henrick snorted. "You want to bluster and yell about slander and character defamation, you should get your own ducks in a row, first."
And that was that.
* * *
Danny got to the Rig a good two hours late, his brain feeling as numb as his fingers as he slipped on his mask. He was still numb when he got to the closest thing the Protectorate had to an employee breakroom for its powered employees, and he found a mug and poured himself some coffee from the tinkertech brewer on reflex. Velocity was picking over the snack basket, grumbling in dissatisfaction. Danny pulled the granola bars out of his pocket and tossed them onto the countertop. Velocity snatched them as only a speedster could.
"Awesome, thanks Chessman. Aren't you running late today, though?"
"Had a fight with my daughter. I think."
"Eesh. Teenager? Yeah, that happens. Want some good news?"
"Please." Danny added creamer, then sugar. Then more sugar. He needed something sweet.
Velocity nodded, then spoke around a mouthful of oats and raisins. "We caught a cape vigilante a few days back. Shadow Stalker— heard of her? She was going to trial, but word is she might join the Wards instead. Probationary, but still."
Danny thought. The name sounded familiar. "I think so. Wasn't she violent, though?"
"Yeah, and it's making a few people nervous, but she had a character witness and all. She was rough with criminals, but she saved people too. A Mr. Barnes testified before a judge and everything."
Danny put his mug down with a careful click. If it was still in his hand, it was going to shatter. "Barnes, you said?"
"Mhm. Some lawyer. Guess it's always good to have one on call, huh?"
"Alan Barnes?"
"Uh... yes?" Danny turned to face Velocity, and the speedster actually took a step back. "You... know him?"
"I know that less than an hour ago, he was accusing my daughter of being a drug-addicted gang member while covering for his own daughter's attacks on mine, then threatened to sue me into poverty when I protested. He only stopped when he was threatened with disbarment for dishonest conduct."
Velocity stopped chewing his granola bar. He swallowed, carefully. "...maybe we should go see Armsmaster. And the Director. They're going to want to hear this."
Danny did not smile— he showed his teeth. "Gladly."