Author's Note: WARING: Loooong chapter ahead...good luck!
Valentine's Prey
Joanna sighed as she crossed yet another name off the list in front of her and leaned back in the hard wooden desk chair. She turned her head to look out the classroom windows where darkness had fallen and sighed again. Although she loved her job as an English teacher at Lincoln Charter High School and had willingly added classes to her schedule to cover for a colleague, she still hated parent/teacher conferences. Not because she was required to stay into the evening to accommodate the hours of working parents or even because she too often had less than stellar news to share regarding their teen's performance in her class, but because she was lucky if one third of the moms and dads cared enough about their kids' education to even bother to show up. Yet she had to be available if they did.
The last parent she spoke with was Rosie Garcia, Raul's mom and Challengers part-time volunteer receptionist. The kind woman had brought platters of her famous tamales as well as empanadas and containers filled with Mexican rice to share with the over-tired, always-hungry teaching staff. They had engaged in friendly conversation about Raul's success in his studies as well as his behavior that set an example for others in his class. That had been well over an hour ago, and now there was only one more name left on Joanna's list: Mr. Richard Miller, father of Trent Miller. If there was one person she hoped wouldn't show, it was this one. But something in her gut told her she wouldn't get off quite that easily. A soft yet firm knock on her door confirmed her suspicions. She stood up, pasted on a smile, and greeted the final parent of the evening. Of average height and build with nondescript features, Mr. Miller still somehow managed to exude a dominance that made her feel a bit uneasy. Or perhaps she was just tired, her nerves frayed from the long day. Determined to remain confident and professional, she reached out to shake his hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said in greeting. "I'm Ms. Fairfax. I'll be Trent's teacher for the rest of this semester since Mrs. Dunham has taken a leave of absence."
"Then I suppose I have you to thank for this!" he sneered as he tossed Trent's tattered report card on her desk before taking a seat across from her, his dark eyes seeming to challenge her.
Joanna calmly unfolded the piece of paper, already knowing the unsatisfactory grades and comments she would find. She pretended to study it in order to give the man before her a chance to cool off.
"Mr. Miller, I'm afraid I must inform you that these are Trent's grades from the previous semester that ended a few weeks ago. Mrs. Dunham submitted them before she left."
"You women are all alike," he grumbled. "Always trying to shift the blame."
Any trepidation Joanna had felt immediately fled as a flare of anger raised her hackles.
"While I did not issue the grades you see, I am more than happy to discuss Trent's performance and behavior since I took over his class."
"I don't need no uppity teacher telling me about my son! I know my boy. He's gonna be the first generation of Millers to go to college!"
"Sir, with all due respect, Trent is only a sophomore. Talk of getting into college may be a bit premature."
"Is that your pretty little way of tellin' me my boy don't got what it takes to get a higher education?!"
Joanna took a long, cleansing breath and weighed her words carefully before speaking.
"What I'm saying, Mr. Miller, is that it might be a good idea to let Trent explore his options. From what I've seen, he may be better suited for a technical or trade school."
"So now you're sidin' with his mother?!" The man shot out of his chair, momentarily startling Joanna before she, too, got to her feet. There was no way she would let him glower over her. "Let's get one thing straight, missy," he warned, shaking a finger at her. "No one's gonna stand in the way of my son goin' to college. Not you, not my ex-wife, no one!"
Before Jo could gather her thoughts, Mr. Miller snatched Trent's report card from where it lay on her desk and stomped out of the room. Feeling thoroughly defeated, she sank down in her chair, massaging her throbbing temples until a light tap on her door drew her attention.
"I see you met Mr. Miller," Ms. Braun, the young algebra teacher observed with a sympathetic smile. "I guess we should've warned you about him."
Joanna waved off the remark. "No need. I've taught in a correctional facility. I think I can handle one ornery parent."
"Well, I'm taking off for the night. You want to walk out together?"
Jo looked around the classroom. "No, you go ahead. I want to tidy up a bit. I'll be right behind you."
"Okay. See you tomorrow!"
Joanna watched Ms. Braun leave and breathed a sigh of relief. Her classroom was as tidy as ever...she had made sure of it before any of the parents saw it. She just didn't feel like making small talk, if only for a few minutes. Once she was sure there were no more well-meaning educators waiting to accost her in the hallway, she shrugged on her coat, grabbed her purse and secured her classroom for the night. Outside, the air was unseasonably cold causing her to hurry toward her car, key in hand. She quickly opened the door and slid into the driver's seat when her cell phone began to trill. Snagging it from the front pocket of her purse she clicked onto the call.
"Hey, you still plannin' on comin' over for a late dinner?" She allowed MacGyver's smooth, warm, wonderful voice to wash over her.
"Actually I think I'm just gonna head straight home," she replied.
"You sound rattled."
Joanna sighed. "I'm just really tired. It's been a long day."
"See you at Challengers tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll be there," she promised.
XXXXX
A bleary eyed Joanna slogged through her lessons the following day. Although a deep, peaceful slumber had immediately claimed her the night before, she awoke in the wee hours of the morning, thoughts of how she could have handled the meeting with Mr. Miller more positively flitting through her brain, refusing to allow her any further rest. Just when she was pretty sure she was going to doze off despite the lecture she was in the middle of giving, a soft tap on the doorframe caught her attention. Vice Principal Varga walked up to her.
"There's a telephone call for you in the office. I'll watch your class," she said lowly.
Joanna's heart, which had initially stuttered at the sight of the woman, now beat double time as she hurried down the long corridor. Mrs. Varga coming to her and offering to monitor her students meant the call was about something bad. Really bad. Upon entering the main office, the receptionist held out the receiver to her which she grabbed immediately.
"Hello?" she answered, willing her pulse to stop pounding in her ears so she could hear the caller, but the line remained silent. "Hello?!" she repeated with growing urgency. Still no answer. She hung up with a worried frown.
"Were you the one who took the call?" she asked the middle-aged receptionist.
"Yes. I was told there was an emergency and to contact you immediately."
"Did the caller identify themselves?" Jo prodded, tamping down the panic that was growing exponentially.
"No," the woman frowned. "In fact, I wasn't even sure if the voice was male or female. It was a bit garbled."
"Do you mind if I make a couple calls?"
"Go right ahead. I'll be in the copy room."
With trembling hands, Joanna dialed her parent's number and huffed when the machine picked up. They were screening their calls.
"It's me. If you're home pick up," she said after the beep.
"Hi honey," her mom answered. "I thought you had classes all day. Is everything okay?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out. I was sent to the office take an emergency phone call, but when I got here the line was dead. Did you or Dad call me?"
"No. In fact, we just got home from grocery shopping." Her mother sounded as bewildered as Joanna felt. Then her stomach plummeted to the floor.
"Mac! It must have been Mac!" Joanna cried, hanging up the phone without even saying goodbye. She quickly punched in the number for Challengers.
Geena was only halfway through her professional greeting when Jo interrupted her. "Did someone call me? Is everything okay?! Is Mac there?!"
"Joanna?"
"Yeah, it's me. Is everything alright?"
"Everything's fine. Very quiet, actually. MacGyver is in his office if you want me to transfer you."
Jo took a deep, calming breath. "No. I don't wanna bother him. I'll see ya later."
When Joanna returned to her classroom, the vice principal motioned her to the hallway.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice full of concern.
"That seems to be the question of the day," Jo told her boss, then continued to explain the events of the last several minutes.
"It sounds like you've been the victim of a prank call," Mrs. Varga told her. "We do our best to safeguard our staff, but every now and again something slips through the cracks."
"I understand," Joanna assured the woman, her exhaustion returning in full force. "Actually, I'm glad it was just a prank and not a real emergency."
The older woman smiled. "Well, you certainly have a good point there!"
A few hours later, Jo walked through the front door of Challengers wanting only to be wrapped in MacGyver's strong, comforting embrace. What she got was a steely command.
"In my office. Now," he instructed as soon as their eyes met.
After securing the door so they wouldn't be interrupted he rounded on her. "Mind telling me what's up with you?"
"What do you mean?" she replied, indignation rising above her shock and confusion.
"Geena told me about the strange phone call she got from you this afternoon."
"Geena needs to keep her mouth shut," she murmured, crossing her arms in front of her.
Mac blew out a breath and scrubbed his face with his hands. "Look, last night when I called you didn't sound like yourself, and I'll admit I was disappointed when you didn't want to have dinner together, but I figured you were just tired and needed some space. Then you call here in the middle of the day to make sure everything's okay. I just want to know what's goin' on."
His eyes were deep and dark and Joanna couldn't resist their plea. "The last conference of the night went pretty bad. One of the fathers really tied into me and caught me off guard."
"And you laid awake all night thinking about how you could have handled it differently," he concluded, a smile tugging at his lips.
"I did not!" she retorted, before turning contrite. "It was only half the night."
"Okay. Then what happened today?" His voice was calm and gentle.
"Mrs. Varga came to me in the middle of my class to tell me I had an emergency phone call in the office, but when I got there whoever it was had already hung up."
"And you assumed something bad had happened here."
Joanna nodded slowly. "Turns out it was just a prank."
"But it still scared you."
She nodded again.
"Aw baby," he sighed as he drew her into his arms. Finally in the place she longed to be she could've cried when there was a knock on his door.
"Duty calls," he said, reluctantly stepping away. "Let's pick up where we left off later."
XXXXX
After spending a cozy evening with MacGyver and getting a peaceful night's rest, Joanna felt like a new person the following day. The sun seemed brighter, the temperature warmer, and the students more cooperative. Her good mood lasted until she headed to her car after classes were dismissed only to find that her left rear tire was flat as a pancake.
"Terrific," she mumbled under her breath, stowing her belongings in the backseat before reaching for her cell phone. A phone she hardly used until a couple days ago.
"Looks like you got a problem," a masculine voice said from behind her.
She turned to find Mr. Miller headed her way. A heavy lump of dread immediately formed in her stomach.
"It's just a flat tire," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "My fiancé will come over and change it."
"No need to bother him. I'm already here and would be happy to do it," he told her almost sheepishly. "Consider it an apology for the other night. My ex always said I had a short fuse. Especially when it comes to that boy of mine. Go ahead and pop the trunk and I'll have you on your way in a jiffy."
Joanna opened the driver's door and did as instructed.
"So what brings you here today?" she asked, trying to make small talk to make the time go faster.
"Thought I'd surprise Trent by picking him up. He's stayin' late to get some science tutorin'. Save him a long walk home."
"I'm sure he'll appreciate that," she smiled.
"Listen, it's pretty chilly out here. Why don't you go on inside while I take care of this?"
Joanna hesitated. She wanted to trust the man and certainly didn't want to anger him by refusing his help, so she did as he suggested. Once in the warmth of the main entrance, she peeked out a side window to keep an eye on him until Ms. Braun distracted her.
"Everything okay?" the algebra teacher asked.
"Yeah," Jo answered. "I came out to a flat tire and Mr. Miller offered to fix it."
"What's he doing here?" her colleague asked, scrunching her nose in distaste.
"He's picking up Trent."
"Well, he wasted trip. I saw Trent leave with a bunch of his buddies a nanosecond after the final bell."
"I'll let Mr. Miller know," Jo replied. "Hopefully he won't get upset."
"Good luck with that," Ms. Braun said sarcastically before walking out the door.
Joanna turned back to gaze through the window and saw that Mr. Miller was putting the jack back in her trunk, the flat tire still leaning up against her back bumper.
"That was quick!" she observed cheerily as she approached him.
"Told ya it was no big deal," he shrugged.
"Well, I still appreciate it," Jo confirmed. "Oh, by the way, one of the teachers said she saw Trent leave school with some of his friends. It looks like he skipped out on his tutoring." She winced, prepared for Mr. Miller's reaction.
Instead of exploding as he had done in her classroom a couple days ago, he simple hung his head and shook it sadly.
"That boy's gonna be the death of me," he groaned.
Joanna couldn't help but chuckle. "I hear that from a lot of parents. I'm sure you'll all survive."
Mr. Miller looked up at her then, a glint in his eye. "Since I don't have a kid to take home, how about I buy you a piece of pie at the diner across the street?"
Jo immediately knew where this train was headed and she needed to derail it before it picked up any steam.
"I'm sorry, but I have a prior commitment and thanks to the stupid flat I'm already late."
"No problem," he replied brusquely. "I see how things are. I'll just be on my way." He reached down and picked up the ruined tire, but instead of putting it in the trunk as Joanna expected, he began to walk away with it.
"Mr. Miller!" she called. "You can put the tire in my car. I can take it from here."
The man stopped in his tracks, but for a moment looked as if he would not comply. Finally he turned and unceremoniously tossed the tire into the trunk and slammed it closed before walking away without another word.
"A flat tire?" MacGyver repeated as she was relaying the events of the afternoon to him in his office at Challengers.
"Must've gone one too many rounds with a pothole," she reasoned. "They're absolutely terrible and winter's not over yet."
"And it was fine this morning? The tire pressure light wasn't on or anything?" Mac probed.
"No. Everything was fine," Jo confirmed, his tone making her uneasy.
"Do you mind if I take a look at it?"
Joanna tossed him her keys. "Knock yourself out."
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MacGyver frowned as he pulled the now-useless tire from Jo's trunk. In his experience, a tire did not get that flat that quick without some help. His frown deepening, he examined every inch of the rubber until he found what he didn't want to find...a number of barely discernable slits that no one would see unless they were looking for them.
When Mac walked back into the building, he found Joanna chatting with Rosie who sat at the reception desk, Raul next to her doing his homework.
"We need to talk," he whispered urgently into Jo's ear as he headed straight for his office.
"What's up?" she asked lightly.
He hated to give her the bad news, but she needed to know.
"Your tire was slit," he said flatly. "Several times," he added for emphasis.
"Another prank?" Her eyebrows knit together in what appeared to be a combination of confusion and fear.
"Or something more serious. Any idea who'd wanna do this?"
"Well, the obvious suspect is Mr. Miller," Jo stated.
"Agreed."
"But he hardly knows me. He already knows I'm not responsible for Trent's report card. Besides, how could he know which car is mine?"
"He probably hid outside and waited until you left the building after parent/teacher conferences. It was dark so he'd easily go unnoticed."
"And I made a point of parking by a streetlamp that day for safety's sake so he could've easily seen me get in the car," she said, punctuating the irony of her statement with an un-ladylike snort that made MacGyver grin in spite of himself.
"But on the other hand, our lot isn't secured and it could've been some kid just picking a random car to vandalize," she added.
"True," Mac conceded.
"So we're back to square one?" she asked.
"Looks that way. Just promise you'll be more careful, especially at school. Try to walk in and out with another teacher and be sure to report this to the principal first thing so the administration can take proper precautions."
He wanted to add that he would happily drive her back and forth and watch her back, but he knew she would resist, claiming he was being overprotective. Hopefully she would be right.
They lingered at Challengers well into the evening until Joanna's stifled yawns caused MacGyver to encourage her to go home and get some rest.
"Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday," she said, gathering her things before heading to the door. "It's been a really long week."
"Listen, it's Cynthia's turn to take the weekend shift. Valentine's Day is next Saturday. How about you and I just lay low this weekend and celebrate a little early?" Mac asked, hoping to spend more time with her. It seemed like since they got engaged they actually saw less of each other. He was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to work like that.
"Sounds like a great plan," she smiled wearily, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick goodnight kiss.
MacGyver watched to make sure she got safely into the car and stared at her tail lights until they disappeared. Soon he, too, was on the road toward home and was surprised to find his side of the townhouse ablaze with light when he pulled into his driveway. He wondered who the surprise visitor was this time. He really needed to change his locks.
Walking through the front door, Mac was met by a blur of brown and white fur that settled happily at his feet and stared up at him expectantly with big brown eyes. MacGyver could swear the dog with the long, droopy ears was smiling at him.
"Hi Dad," Sam greeted him from across the room as the visiting canine drooled on Mac's shoe. "You remember Cip, don't ya?"
"Yeah, I remember him," MacGyver replied, regarding the dog thoughtfully. "Kip with a 'C'. Well, there are worse names. What are you two doing here?"
"Becca's at a journalism seminar in Indianapolis. I'm dog-sitting."
"Um, Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm pretty sure she intended for you to keep Cip at your place."
Mac's son laughed. "That's a good one, Dad! Can't a guy visit his favorite father?"
"I'm your only father," MacGyver replied dryly. "Now what are you doin' here?"
"Relax. Things have just been slow at work so I thought I'd take a little break. Where's Frog? I figured him and Cip might hit it off."
"He's at Challengers. Joanna and I were kinda planning on having the weekend to ourselves." Mac knew he sounded pretty blunt, but a guy could be straight with his own son, right?
"Oooh...sorry," Sam winced. "We can leave…"
"No. But you can do me a favor."
"Sure, what is it?"
"You know Charlie, my landlord, who lives next door?"
"Yeah."
"He's out of town for a few weeks and I promised I'd look after the place. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you and Cip stayed over there for the weekend."
Sam's face lit up as MacGyver handed him the spare key Charlie had given him.
"To be honest, now that I have my own place, I'm used to having a lot more room to myself. This'll be perfect!"
Mac chuckled to himself. "Go on over and get settled. I'll see you in the morning."
It seemed that MacGyver's head had barely hit the pillow when his alarm began to ring. He swatted the clock, hitting every button he could find, but it still blasted away. Groggily, he realized it was his telephone.
"Hello?" he answered, his voice raspy from sleep.
"Mac, something's happened."
Three words from Joanna and he was wide awake and already reaching for his clothes.
"Where are you? I'm on my way."
"I'm still at home."
"Is everyone okay?"
"Yeah, it's just…"
"I'll be right there!"
MacGyver pulled onto the Fairfax's street to find two squad cars parked in front of their house, the family and police officers gathered around Jo's Chevy standing in the driveway. The Jeep's tires squealed as Mac slammed on the brakes and hurried over to find his fiancé.
"What happened?" he called to no one in particular. A number of grim faces turned to look at him and everyone stepped back to allow him a look at the car. There, scrawled along the driver's side in black spray paint were the words 'I'll get you!'.
Mac was still processing the scene before him when he felt Joanna approach. He instinctively reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close.
"I found it when I came out to go work," she said softly. "This jerk knows where I live."
MacGyver tore his gaze from the vandalized car to Jo's sweet face. Any sign of shock or fear had long since been replaced with anger and determination.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," a police officer said as he approached, "But you need to finish giving your statement Ms. Fairfax."
"You did tell him about the prank call and flat tire at school, right?" Mac asked in a whisper.
"Of course I did!" she spat before turning her attention back to the cop.
"Do you have any idea who may have done this?" he asked. "Any former students from the correctional facility or the school for at-risk teens?"
Joanna rolled her eyes. "I don't know!" she huffed in frustration. "Anyone I suppose!"
"This isn't some random act, ma'am. This is more personal than the others."
"And dangerous," MacGyver added. "Any chance we can get some extra patrols or protection for her until whoever is doing this is caught?" He knew the answer, but he had to ask anyway.
"Sorry sir, the department is short-handed as it is. I already advised Ms. Fairfax to take extra precautions."
Mac nodded in understanding and then turned to Joanna. "Could this be the work of that Miller guy?"
"But how could he know where I live? The school considers all teacher information confidential."
MacGyver thought for a moment. "What about when he changed your tire? Were you with him the whole time?"
"Yeah. Well, he told me to wait inside where it was warm but I watched him through a window."
"And you never took your eyes off him?"
"No!" she exclaimed defensively before suddenly looking guilty. "Except when I was chatting with the math teacher."
"That's it!" Mac proclaimed, snapping his fingers. "He must have been watching you, too, and when you turned away he slipped into the car and got your address from your vehicle registration. That could've been why he slashed your tires in the first place."
"We still don't know for sure that he's the one responsible for the flat," Jo argued.
"I know," MacGyver groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. "But whoever is doing this is getting closer to you and I don't like it!"
"I'm not exactly thrilled about it, either," she responded wryly. "Unfortunately, there isn't much we can do about it except be extra vigilant. Now, since you're here, would you mind giving me a ride to school? I don't want to be seen driving around in that." She waved her hand at her beloved and now defaced Chevy coupe.
"You're still planning to go to work?" he asked, concerned that she wasn't taking the situation more seriously.
"I'm not gonna let some yahoo rule my life. I won't give him the satisfaction," she stated firmly.
"So this is about pride?" Mac asked, his voice rising of its volition. "What good is pride gonna do you when he kills you?!"
"Whoa! You are blowing this way out of proportion." Her eyes held wild concern...for him.
"I hope I am," he admitted, knowing he was letting old fears control him. "I'd just rather be safe than sorry."
"So what's your plan, then?" she challenged.
"Call Mrs. Varga, tell her what happened, and take the day off. Then go pack a bag and I'll take you to my place where you'll be safe while we figure this out."
Joanna stayed where she was, chewing her bottom lip as if weighing her options.
"C'mon," he encouraged. "We were planning on spending the weekend together anyway. Now we'll have three days instead of two." He summoned up the roguish grin that always crumbled her defenses.
"What about my folks? Do you think he'll hurt them when he can't get to me?"
Ah ha, so she was taking this more seriously than she let on. But what could he say to assuage her fears that wouldn't be a lie?
"So far everything's been directed at you," he reasoned. "Last night he could've vandalized the house, but he targeted your car."
"Again."
"Again," he added sympathetically.
"Fine," she sighed, twisting his heart. "Come inside while I get some stuff together."
MacGyver called and made arrangements with a local auto body shop to get Jo's car repainted as quickly as possible.
"The police took lots of pictures, but you're gonna need to call your insurance company as soon as we get back to my place," he told her as they headed to his apartment.
Joanna remained silently lost in thought until they pulled into his driveway. Then she gasped.
He followed her gaze to where Sam stood on Charlie's front stoop, coffee mug in one hand and leash in the other while Cip did his morning business.
"Why didn't you tell me Sam was here?!" she admonished, slapping him on the bicep for good measure.
"I'm sorry! When I got your phone call all I could think about was you!"
"Well I can't stay here now! There's not enough room for all three of us!"
Mac grinned slyly. "There's plenty of room. Sam is staying at Charlie's while he's out of town. And this way, you'll have two built-in protectors."
"Oh, goody," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
MacGyver blew out a breath as he exited the Jeep. "Look, I know you don't want us hovering over you, but I'm only trying to keep you safe and hopefully get a hold of whoever is threatening you."
"I know," she replied softly, eyes on the ground. "It's just been kinda a rough morning, ya know?"
"Yeah, I know," he agreed, lifting her suitcase with one hand while he draped the other around her shoulders and pulled her close as they walked to the door.
"Hey Joanna!" Sam called. "What brings you here?"
"A very long story," she mumbled.
While Joanna settled in upstairs, MacGyver booted up his computer and filled Sam in on the details.
"I don't know, Dad. Maybe Jo's right about this guy. I mean, he has means and opportunity, but no motive. Or at least not a very good one. Maybe it is someone from her past."
Terrific! Now even his own son was working against him! Mac turned in his chair and began tapping on the keyboard.
"Whatcha doin'?" Sam asked.
"I'm accessing Wisconsin Circuit Court Records. Tryin' to find out if Richard Miller is as squeaky clean as you and Joanna seem to want to believe."
MacGyver could feel the younger man's breath on his neck as Sam peered over his shoulder to read the results that had popped up on the screen. Mac slowly scrolled through them, clicking the mouse every now and again to go deeper into the case files, and then leaned back in his chair with a groan.
"Wow, Dad! You were right to be worried about this guy," Sam confirmed. "Do you think Jo knows any of this?"
"No. But I gotta tell her. Maybe then she'll be more cooperative."
Sam drew his eyebrows together and regarded his father. "You make her sound like an assignment instead of the woman you love."
"I'm afraid that in this case, she's both."
Sam made a hasty retreat to the other side of the townhouse as Joanna began to descend the stairs. Mac waited for her at the bottom, dreading the news he had to share with her. He waited until they were both comfortably seated on the couch before he spoke.
"What do you know about Trent Miller and his family?"
"Not much, really," she shrugged. "I only started teaching his class a few weeks ago. I know he's an only child and his parents are divorced. His dad wants him to go to college, but his mom just wants him to do what makes him happy. Nothing exactly new and exciting from a teacher's standpoint."
"Jo, when you were upstairs, I ran a quick background check on his dad."
"You're not gonna tell me Mr. Miller's an ax murderer or something, are you?" she asked, eyebrows raised.
"No, nothing quite that dramatic. But before coming to Milwaukee, the family lived in Green Bay. Last year Mr. Miller physically assaulted Trent's male math teacher for a poor grade on his report card. The school expelled Trent and pressed charges against his dad. Miller served a few weeks in jail and paid a hefty fine before moving south."
Joanna's soft eyes studied his face. "There's more, isn't there?"
"Yeah. His parents got divorced last summer, after the incident. Mrs. Miller has taken out numerous restraining orders against her husband and he's broken several of them. A couple of assault charges have been filed against him as well, but they were always dismissed because Trent's mom refused to testify."
"Okay, you've made your point," she conceded, but not without a challenge. "That still doesn't give him a reason to want to harm me. Like I said, we straightened out that whole report card business and he seemed like a decent guy after that. He even wanted to buy me a piece of pie after he changed my tire."
"Wait a minute! What?!"
"He offered to buy me a piece of pie at the diner across the street from the school."
"What did you say?"
Joanna rolled her eyes. "I knew he was either hitting on me or trying to get on my good side so told him I had a prior commitment."
"How did he take it?"
"Okay. I mean, I guess he was a little short with me. He almost forgot to put my tire in my trunk. He started walking away with it." Here she paused before speaking again. "Do you think he was planning on taking the tire away so we wouldn't find the slashes?"
"I'd pretty much count on it. And as for a motive, what better motive is there than rejection? He got upset when you turned down his offer to take you to the diner."
"You were right about him, Mac. I can't believe this is happening." Her voice trembled as she laid her head on his shoulder and threaded her fingers through his.
"I know, baby. But we'll figure out a way to end this. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you," MacGyver vowed, hoping fervently this was one promise he would always be able to keep.
A couple hours later, after reluctantly leaving Joanna in Sam and Cip's care, Mac hurried over to Challengers to tie up some loose ends and collect Frog for the weekend. He returned to find his son and fiancé locked in a competitive game of Monopoly. However, everyone's attention soon turned to the two canines who were meeting each other for the first time. After locking eyes and emitting low, guttural grumblings, the dogs cautiously sniffed the surrounding air and eventually each other. Apparently unimpressed, the two soon parted with Frog crawling under the coffee table, presumably for a nap, and Cip standing by the patio doors in a silent plea to be let out.
Relieved that the two dogs appeared to accept each other, Jo and Sam returned to their board game while Mac plopped down on the couch and turned on the television set. Unfortunately, nothing could hold his interest. Remote in hand, he surfed through every available channel twice before turning it off and pacing the floor. It didn't take long for Sam to voice the thoughts that had been troubling his dad.
"So, what's the plan?" he asked.
"I don't know yet," MacGyver replied flatly.
"What plan?" Joanna asked.
"The plan to catch this Miller dude," Sam supplied. "Do we just sit back and wait for him to strike again?" The query was directed at Mac.
"Wait a minute," Joanna interrupted. "I thought the whole point of me staying here was so that he wouldn't be able to do anything."
"She's got a point," Sam observed.
"I know," Mac groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands.
"I guess we could just wait for the cops to get him," Sam suggested.
MacGyver shook his head. "They can't do anything unless they catch him in the act. Even now what little evidence we have is only circumstantial." He caught Sam's gaze, willing his son to understand what he couldn't say aloud. That in order to draw Miller out, they'd have to use Joanna as bait. And that was something MacGyver would never do.
"Well, I can't stay here indefinitely!" Jo huffed. "Come Monday I'm going back to work."
Mac wanted to argue, but she did have a point. Yet, she would still be putting herself in harm's way.
"Maybe Mr. Miller will cool down by then and this whole thing will be over," she said as if reading his thoughts.
"I hope you're right," he replied. Man, he hoped she was right!
The rest of the afternoon and evening passed uneventfully and MacGyver knew he should be glad about that, but it only increased his tension. Eventually Sam and Cip returned to Charlie's apartment and Joanna went upstairs early, novel in hand. He sat on the couch and was about to kick off his shoes until he thought better of it, his old Boy Scout motto coming to mind. Fully dressed, he sprawled out on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep, only to be startled awake by a strange sound. He surveyed as much of his apartment as he could without moving. Frog lay snoring next to him under the coffee table. Perhaps it had been his imagination. After doing a thorough walk-through of the first floor and stopping by the stairway to listen to Joanna's gentle snores, he peeked out every available window until he was satisfied they were alone. Settling back onto the couch, this became his routine until dawn.
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Joanna must've been more stressed than she realized. Last night, she headed to bed as soon as Sam had left, intending to read several chapters of a novel she had been neglecting, but she only finished one chapter before the words began to blur and her eyelids grew heavy. Placing the book on the nightstand, she snuggled under the covers of MacGyver's bed and allowed a deep, peaceful slumber to claim her. When she next awoke, sunlight was streaming through the windows and she heard muffled voices in the kitchen. She smiled as she imagined Mac and Sam working side-by-side to fix breakfast. Yips and yaps from outside told her the dogs were in the backyard, probably playing in the snow left from a storm a couple weeks ago. She stretched languidly before crawling out from under the cozy blankets, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and sweater, and heading downstairs for breakfast which, like most of last evening, was a quiet affair. Yes, she had wanted time away from work to spend with Mac, but this was not turning into the weekend she had envisioned and, by the frown lines marring his brow, she knew he felt the same.
They had just finished clearing the kitchen table when the telephone jangled. Mac picked it up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
Joanna watched as he listened intently, nodding every now and again as if the caller could see him.
"I understand. I'm on my way," he said before hanging up.
"What's happened?" Jo asked, feeling Sam standing close behind her awaiting the answer as well.
"That was the fire department. There's been a natural gas leak at Challengers. Everyone's okay, the building's been evacuated and the supply cut off, but I need to go down and sign off on some stuff. Sam, do you mind stayin' until I get back?"
Joanna held back a protest, but Sam was much more agreeable.
"No problem, Dad," he grinned mischievously. "I have a Monopoly score to settle with my future step-mom."
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Mac promised, bending to give Jo a peck on the cheek before walking out the door.
Joanna turned to Sam and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder. "I hate to tell you this, future step-son, but I'm gonna be upstairs cleaning your dad's bathroom. It looks like a science project gone rogue."
After donning heavy duty rubber gloves and liberally spraying the bathtub with a lemon scented foaming cleanser, Jo began to scrub. She was half-way through when there was a knock at the front door.
"I got it!" Sam called up to her as the dogs began to bark.
She returned to the task at hand, but soon became curious about their would-be visitor and annoyed that Sam wasn't quieting the dogs. Dropping the sponge in the sink, she peeled off her gloves and headed toward the staircase. She was halfway down when she saw Mr. Miller standing just inside the door. The dogs' barking turned to low growls, yet they did not advance on the intruder.
"How did you find me!" she gasped.
"Yesterday morning I hung around so I could see the look on your face when you found my message. Then that boyfriend of yours parked practically right in front of my nose. I figured you'd end up with him sooner or later so I took a peek at his registration. Ya know, you people should really lock your glove boxes," he smirked.
Wanting to wipe that grin off his face once and for all, Joanna charged down the rest of the steps but came to an abrupt halt when she saw Sam's unconscious body lying prone on the floor, Frog and Cip guarding him.
"Sam!" she cried, lunging toward the helpless young man as Miller's arm snaked out to stop her, grabbing her bicep in a vise-like grip.
"What did you do to him!" she demanded, trying to wrench herself free.
"Nothin' a nice long nap won't cure."
"What do you want from me," she hissed through gritted teeth refusing to let fear usurp her anger.
"First, I want to buy you a piece of pie. Then, I want you to go to the school and fix Trent's report card."
"You're outta your mind!" she exclaimed loudly.
Mr. Miller reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small handgun, pointing it directly at her heart.
"You're gonna wanna keep your voice down, Ms. Fairfax. You don't wanna be disturbin' the neighbors."
Joanna clamped her mouth shut, even as her jaw began to tremble.
"Now slowly put on your coat and walk outside all nice and normal-like. We're goin' for a ride and don't' wanna be attractin' no attention. Understand?"
What she did understand was that this man was in desperate need of grammar lessons, but she nodded dutifully so as not to upset him more. Once in the passenger seat of his car, she closed her eyes and sent up a heartfelt prayer for the wisdom and courage to get herself out of this situation. She heard the engine rev to life and then felt the car lurch forward. Squeezing her eyes shut even tighter, she had no way of knowing Cip had snuck out the front door and was even now following behind them.
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MacGyver was detained longer at Challengers than he had anticipated and he was anxious to return to Joanna. However, he was required to remain on-site when it was discovered that the leak was not an accident but a deliberate act. Someone had broken the valve. When Mac was finally able to return home, his anxiety ratcheted up when he found his front door ajar. He quietly crossed the threshold in case an intruder was still inside and quickly surveyed the apartment, dropping to his knees when he saw his son's unconscious body lying on the floor, Frog licking his cheek.
He gently shook the younger man's shoulders. "Sam! Sam! Wake up! What happened?!"
Frog's mournful eyes watched as Sam finally began to regain his senses.
"Whoa," Sam groaned, struggling to sit up.
Mac put a steadying hand on his shoulder and spoke softly but firmly.
"Sam, what happened? Where are Joanna and Cip?"
Sam rubbed the back of his neck before speaking. "This guy came to the door. He said he was a teacher at Lincoln High and had some important papers for Joanna. She was upstairs cleaning and when I turned to call her he must have hit me ion the back of the head with something and knocked me out. Is Joanna okay?"
"She isn't here and apparently Cip isn't either."
"Aw man, he must have taken her!" Sam exclaimed as fiercely as he could given his pounding head.
"How could you let this happen?!" Mac rounded on his son, his anxiety now giving way to anger. "I was counting on you to protect her and you let a stranger, who was most likely Miller, waltz right in!"
"How was I supposed to know it was Miller?! I don't even know what he looks like and this guy looked pretty normal."
MacGyver's anger quickly turned to shame as he realized he had never even asked Joanna for a description of the man. Mac, himself, could bump into the guy on the street and not even know it.
"I'm sorry. You're right," Mac apologized as he helped Sam walk over to the couch. "This is all my fault. I should've gotten a description and I should've been here. I've lost my edge."
"You can't blame yourself, Dad. Pete would tell you you're too close to the situation."
"And he'd be right. We need to call the police."
After being put on hold and transferred several times, MacGyver was finally connected to the police officer who had taken their statement at Joanna's house the previous morning. After a heated discussion, Mac slammed down the phone.
"What'd they say?" Sam asked.
"They can't do much. No one saw Joanna being forcefully taken and she hasn't been gone long enough to be considered a missing person."
"Then it looks like it's up to us to find her," Sam declared.
"And just how are we gonna do that? We don't have any leads. They could be anywhere!"
"I can give you a solid description of the guy and then you'll come up with a plan like you always do," Sam replied full of optimism. Only Mac wasn't sure he could figure this out, at least not before he lost yet another loved one.
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"Was I right or was I right?" Richard Miller asked gleefully.
"You were right," Joanna agreed, unable to suppress a small smile. "This is definitely the best piece of blueberry pie I've ever had." Despite being kidnapped and worried about Sam, she had somehow managed to keep her emotions in check. Any display of fear or anger would only make the situation worse. She'd been in tight spots before. But, then again, MacGyver had always been with her. She was completely on her own this time...unless Mac somehow miraculously found her.
Mr. Miller tossed some bills on the table and stood. "Now, let's get over to the school and take care of that business we discussed," he prompted with a self-satisfied grin. "And don't try anything funny," he grunted in her ear as he pressed the muzzle of his gun against her side through the material of his own jacket.
Using the key Mrs. Varga had given her, Joanna opened the main door to the school and slowly led the way to her classroom, trying to stall for as much time as possible. She didn't know what Mr. Miller had in store for her once she completed her 'assignment', and she highly doubted he did either, but she knew it couldn't be anything good.
"Get a move on, missy. I ain't got all day," he growled, nudging her in the back to quicken her steps.
When they reached her classroom, she unlocked the door, took a seat behind her desk and fired up her computer.
"The grading system is all computerized," she explained in what she hoped was a calm, controlled tone. "Since Mrs. Dunham was the one who input Trent's grades, I may not have access to them."
"Stop all that mumbo jumbo and get to work," Miller commanded, pacing the aisles in the room like a caged lion.
Joanna typed furiously on the keyboard to make it sound as if she was complying. In reality, she was hitting random keys and buying time. At least until Miller came to stand behind her and watch. Her stomach sank. So much for faking it. She logged onto the system, after purposely entering the wrong password several times, and set about trying to find Mrs. Dunham's electronic grade book. At this, she did not need to fake her incompetence.
"What just happened?!" Miller demanded after several minutes of curses on his part and sighs on hers. "Why did the screen go dark?"
"Mrs. Dunham locked her electronic grade book with a personal password so no one can get into it and tamper with it."
"You're lyin'! You just don't want to give my boy the grade he deserves. Now fix it!" he roared.
"I can't!" Joanna yelled back. "I entered too many incorrect passwords and it caused the computer to shut down." That wasn't exactly true, but it was close enough. Mr. Miller didn't possess the technological skills to know any better.
"Now what am I gonna do?" the man moaned, pacing and rubbing his forehead with the hand that wasn't loosely holding the gun.
Joanna had quickly come to the conclusion that Richard Miller wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier and, if he was going to harm her, she might as well make it worth it.
"Guess you don't have a plan B, huh?" she asked wryly.
"Shut up and let me think!"
"We're gonna be here awhile then, aren't we?" she goaded.
"I said 'shut up'!"
He stalked to her desk, pulling out random drawers and rummaging through them until he found what he was looking for. A roll of duct tape.
"I don't want to hear another peep outta you! You got that?" he yelled as he firmly slapped a piece of the tape across her mouth.
He was about to return to his pacing but suddenly turned back to her. Tearing off longer lengths of the silver tape he bound her ankles and wrists in front of her.
"Can't have you go runnin' off on me know, can we?" he jeered.
Joanna leveled her best dagger-shooting stare at him, but he quickly turned away. She assessed the new situation she found herself in. Apparently this guy didn't watch much TV because everyone knows that you should tie a person's hand behind their back. Thankful for his miscue and the potential opportunity it offered, she focused on creating an escape plan.
Jo didn't know how long Mr. Miller paced and muttered, but instinct told her it was time for action. She would either succeed or fail. As surreptitiously as possible, she moved her bound hands toward the pocket of her coat which she had hung on the back of her chair upon arriving. Twisting her torso while still keeping an eye on her captor, her fingers grasped the flap covering the pocket, allowing her to pull it closer until she could slide her hands inside and grasp what she needed: The Swiss Army knife Mac had given her for Christmas. She clutched it in her fists and turned just in time to see Mr. Miller swivel towards her. He spared her a glance before once again turning his back to her. She let out a silent sigh of relief and worked the knife until she found the blade she wanted. She then pulled her feet up as close as she could and began sawing away at the duct tape. It was a lot harder than she had anticipated and she made the crucial mistake of allowing her mind to focus solely on her immediate task and forget about Miller's presence. She first realized her error when he wrapped a meaty hand around her arm and yanked her from her chair, causing her to lose her balance and fall to the floor. Thankfully, she still held the knife and when he reached down to grab her again she jammed it into his forearm with all her might, his piercing scream reverberating in her ears.
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"I think the eyes were a just a little wider," Sam said thoughtfully, looking over his dad's shoulder at the computer screen where MacGyver was using a program to recreate Miller's face. "And his lips had a slight curl to them."
"Sam," Mac sighed impatiently. "We are not recreating the Mona Lisa here. Now does this look like the guy you saw?"
"Yeah, except his nose was just a tad-" MacGyver hit the print button before his son could continue. Mac was a fan of precision, but he had a feeling time wasn't on their side so they just had to do the best they could.
Sam had just grabbed the sketch from the printer when Cip skidded through the front door and immediately sought out Frog. Soon the two dogs were nose-to-nose, sniffing, grumbling, yipping, and wagging.
"What's going on?" Sam asked his father.
"How should I know? I don't speak canine. But we do know Cip isn't with Jo." Mac's heart fell to the ground. He had been hoping the odd little hound had been protecting her. Obviously, that wasn't happening.
Moments later, the two dogs sat in front of their respective masters. Cip pulled himself up straight and kept moving his eyes from Sam to the door, then back to Sam. Frog crouched in front of MacGyver, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, drool dripping on the floor, and soulful eyes wide and alert as his entire chubby body quivered with energy.
"What it is it, guys?" Mac asked the doggy duo, feeling only party silly for doing so.
"Do you know where Joanna is?" Sam asked Cip who immediately stood up and ran to the door with Frog right behind him.
"They know something!" Mac exclaimed, grabbing his jacket from the bench by the door. "C'mon!" He opened the door and the dogs took off at a run leaving their human companions no choice but to follow.
Sam and MacGyver were breathing hard by the time Cip sat down on the sidewalk in front of the diner. Frog had fallen behind, but caught up quickly and soon had his nose to the ground, walking in circles, before he sat down and began to whine.
"Do you think Cip followed them?" Sam gasped, trying to catch his breath.
"Looks that way," Mac confirmed. "And I think Frog's picked up Joanna's scent. Let's go inside and see if we can get some answers."
"Sorry hon, we got a packed house. You're just gonna hafta wait," a middle-aged waitress said in way of greeting as they entered the restaurant.
"Actually, we just have a question," Mac explained as he motioned for Sam to show her the computer-generated picture of Miller. "Did you see this guy come in about an hour ago. He would have been with a pretty brunette."
"Yeah, I remember him," the waitress replied. "He comes in every so often. Always orders a slice of pie. Nothin' else. Just a slice of pie."
"Was there a woman with him today?" MacGyver inquired anxiously.
"Yeah. Sweet lookin' thing. Wonder how he landed her."
"Did you see where they went after they left?" he asked.
"Honey, I've got enough people to worry about inside the diner. Once they leave they're somebody else's problem."
After thanking the waitress for her time, father and son headed back outside to the waiting dogs.
"Now what?" Sam asked dejectedly.
With a groan, Mac slapped the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Of course! It should've been obvious!" he said as he looked at the high school across the street.
"That might be a little too obvious," Sam pointed out.
"Maybe. But right now it's the best shot we got." MacGyver called to Frog who slowly ambled over. Mac bent down and ruffled the dog's ears. "Frog, find Joanna! Go find Joanna!" he commanded.
Frog shook himself from the tip of his nose to his barely-there tail, sniffed the air, and took off toward the school, only stopping when he reached the front door. Mac tested the handle.
"It's open," he whispered to Sam, signaling that they needed to be as quiet as possible from here on in.
They stepped into the large entrance and Mac winced at the sound of doggy toenails clicking on the tile floor. He was about to herd them back outside when Frog started waddling down a long corridor.
"That's the way to Jo's classroom," MacGyver told Sam, still whispering. "They must be in there."
A sudden yowl rent the air, causing the dogs to run toward the source, barking furiously, leaving Mac and Sam to follow them yet again. When MacGyver got to the classroom, he found Mr. Miller standing next to Joanna's desk, one dog tugging on each pant leg as he tried to kick them away. Unable to hold back his anger, Mac called the dogs off before balling up his fist and hitting the man square on the jaw, knocking him to the floor where his head connected with the hard tile with a sickening thud.
"Ow! Why do I do that?!" Mac exclaimed, shaking out his hand which stung from the force of the contact.
When he was sure Miller was down for the count, he looked around to find Sam helping Jo release herself from her bindings.
"Duct tape! Can you believe it?" she asked ruefully. "Talk about irony!"
MacGyver had her in his arms before she could say another word.
"Aw baby, I'm so sorry!" he apologized, kissing the top of her head. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I think," she replied, wriggling out of his grasp so she could look him in the eye, tears shimmering in her own. "I was afraid I might never see you again," she confessed in a watery voice. "How did you ever find me?"
"We had a little help," Mac told her, drawing her attention to Cip and Frog who were licking the face and hands of the unconscious kidnapper.
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Valentine's Day
A week later, MacGyver and Joanna were sitting on his living room floor, the coffee table holding the Monopoly board between them and Chinese take-out cartons scattered about. Jo rolled the dice and scowled when her little silver Scottie dog landed on one of Mac's properties.
"Aha! I got you now!" Mac crowed triumphantly. "Let's see, that's Boardwalk with three houses so you owe me…"
"More than I've got," she stated, tossing all her toy money at him.
"Gosh, I didn't know you were such a sore loser."
"I'm sorry. It's just been a long week," she replied as she collected the remains of their dinner and MacGyver put the game away.
"Have you gotten any updates on Mr. Miller?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently onto the couch with him.
"The school administration is pressing charges but he somehow managed to make bail. He's under orders to stay away from Trent, the school, and all staff members."
"Are you gonna have to testify at his trial?"
She shook her head. "Given Miller's record, the prosecutor says our police statements should be enough evidence for a solid case."
"I'm still sorry I wasn't here for you."
"Would you stop with that?! You had to go to Challengers. You didn't have a choice," Joanna insisted, turning to snuggle into his chest.
"Yeah," Mac grunted. "And I played right into Miller's hands. Who would ever have thought that he'd tamper with the gas valves just to get me out of the way?"
"Well, one good thing did come out of all this," Jo mused.
"And what was that?"
"I finally got to use my Swiss Army knife," she replied, smiling up at him.
"I'm really proud of you. You know that, right? You must have been scared to death but you held it together and did all the right things."
He felt her shrug against him. "I just kept trying to think of how you would handle the situation. So you see, you were kinda there with me anyway. I guess you're finally starting to rub off on me."
"Oh really? Well then, Ms. Fairfax, how do you think I would handle this current situation we find ourselves in?"
"Hmmmm," she responded thoughtfully. "You'd probably do something like this."
She reached up and, cupping his face in her hands, gently guided his lips to hers until they met in a feather-like caress. A thrill zinged through him like an electric shock as it always did when she initiated contact and he savored every moment until she slowly pulled away.
"So, was I right?" she asked, her voice low and a bit husky.
"You know me so well," he grinned before pulling her closer and kissing her deeply.
Author's Note: CONGRATS to those who make it through! Would love to hear what you thought! Thanks as always for reading!