Chapter 4

Claude hung up the phone, and every bit of tension went out of him.

He lit a cigarette, sauntered over, and sat on the teacher's desk, one leg crossed over the other.

The board director's wife hooked her arm through his and looked down at me like she'd already won.

"Your future's looking more and more like a prison sentence."

"Once you're locked up doing time behind bars, your son goes straight to the orphanage."

"And then I'll go there myself and tell them to take real good care of that little bastard!"

The parents around us whispered to each other and edged away from me.

"She's finished. She crossed the board director and now there's a lawsuit on top of it."

"Those two just ruined the rest of their lives."

"Serves her right. Nobody made her act so high and mighty. Hand her a favor and she spits on it."

Teacher Chavez paced in circles, desperate, and started toward the principal to plead for us, but he shot her a hard glare that stopped her cold.

He scolded her under his breath. "Mind your own business. If you want to dig your own grave, don't drag the school down with you."

The board director's wife leaned in close to me, bent down, and looked at Ryan.

"Hey there, little guy. Your mommy's about to go to jail. You'll get the whole big room all to yourself. Won't that be fun?"

Ryan peeked out from behind me, gripping the hem of my clothes tight.

"My mom isn't going to jail."

"My mom and dad are both good people. Only bad people go to jail."

Shown up by a child, she couldn't hold the look on her face. She straightened up and rolled her eyes.

"What do you expect from a poor kid. No manners at all."

I drew Ryan back and tucked him against my side, murmuring to him.

"Don't be scared. We're not the ones leaving today."

Ryan tipped his head up at me. There was no fear in his eyes.

"Mom, I'm not scared. Dad said when you're doing the right thing, you don't have to bow your head to anyone."

I smiled a little and kissed him on the forehead.

Before long, the wail of a patrol siren came from out in the corridor.

The captain of the district traffic police division strode into the classroom with several officers behind him.

He was a big, powerfully built man with a grim face, and the moment he came through the door he swept his eyes around the room.

"What's the situation here? Where's the owner of this vehicle with the suspected fake plate?"

Claude went up to meet him with a smile, clapped him on the shoulder, all warmth.

"Sorry to drag you out, Charlie. Hot as it is and I've got you running all the way over here."

"It's this woman."

He turned and pointed at me.

"Got herself some beat-up bus and slapped a fake plate on it."

"Anyone can see it's forged. Verify it and haul her in. Don't waste time."

Captain Lawrence frowned slightly and moved his shoulder out from under Claude's hand.

Out of professional habit, he didn't take one side's word for it. He walked up to the desk and picked up the vehicle registration form.

The instant his eyes landed on the plate number, his brows drew together.

"Mr. Swanson, everything has to go by the evidence. I need to follow procedure first and run it through our internal system."

Claude waved a hand, couldn't have cared less.

"Verify what? Look at her. Does she look like someone who could afford a car like that?"

Lawrence said nothing. He took the police handheld unit off his belt and entered the plate number.

Everyone in the classroom waited for the result.

Claude folded his arms across his chest, a confident smile at the corner of his mouth.

But the moment Lawrence's finger pressed the confirm key, the screen erupted in a glare of harsh red light.

A piercing alarm blared out of the device and filled the whole classroom.

The sudden noise made everyone jump.

Lawrence snapped upright and stared at me, disbelief all over his face.

"How... how is this... insufficient clearance!"