“I need to see this shower you told me about.”
I breathe a sigh of relief as we step outside and jog to the hockey rink. We go the conventional way, the large rink door groaning when we open it. I lead him straight to the shower stall. Most of the blood has trickled away, but I show him the towel and Chris’s rumpled sweater. I’m tempted to reveal the photo, but I’m still not sure if I should admit that Chris is a girl.
“Why would Ivan bring him here?” he mumbles to himself.
“I think Ivan followed him here, sir.”
“Yes, right.” The dean nods, pulling out his phone and quickly punching in some numbers. “Yes, hi, Don. Just wanted to check on gate activity tonight.” He nods and hmmms while he listens. “Okay, thanks for that… Not sure yet. I think I might be missing a couple of students.” The dean nods again. “Right… Okay, will do. Thanks.”
Hanging up, he starts punching in a new number.
“What’d the gate guard say?”
“No one’s come or gone since the girls’ bus left after the dance. He’s going to check the other exit for me, and I’m calling the police.”
I snatch his wrist, my breath on hold as I hand out another nugget of truth. “Actually, maybe you should start with Chris’ parents.”
The dean’s eyes narrow and I can’t hold contact. Glancing at the floor, I mutter, “You want to trust me on this one. There’s stuff you don’t know.”
“You are quite the mystery tonight, Mr. Calloway, but your pale face is making me believe you. Let’s head to my office.”
We power-walk to his office and within five minutes he’s on the phone. “Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Lorden, but we seem to have a problem with your boy. He appears to have gone missing.”
I can’t hear what’s being said but by the expression on the dean’s face, it’s not good. He goes really quiet and eventually hangs up the phone with a mystified frown.
“They’re on their way.” He glances at me. “They’ll be here in ten minutes…and he’s going to call the police himself.” Threading his hands together, he lays them on the desk and stares me down. “I think it’s time you tell me what I don’t know.”
I crumple into the chair I’ve sat in so many times before. I’m usually forcing a casual indifference, like I don’t give a shit what kind of trouble I’m about to get into. But tonight, I face the dean and with a raw honesty that hurts, I choke out the truth. “Chris is a girl. She’s been hiding here in the witness protection program, and I’m scared that Ivan’s figured it out and he’s doing something bad to her.”
Dean Hancock’s narrow face goes even thinner as he purses his lips, calmly trying to absorb the news. “Who is she really?”
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me anything other than she’s in hiding.”
“And how did you find out her secret?”
My cheeks heat to boiling. The dean’s eyebrow arches.
I scratch the back of my head and finally mutter, “She showers in the hockey locker room for privacy. I accidentally bumped into her one time.”
“And how many times have you bumped into her after that?”
My eyes pop wide. “Never. I… It’s not like that. We haven’t… I mean, I want to, but…” I clear my throat and shift in my seat. “She’s different, sir. She’s…” My jaw works to the side and I can’t finish my sentence, fear strangling my voice.
The dean presses his lips together and dips his head. “I understand.”
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and the thought of never seeing her again…the thought of her suffering is ripping me in half. I can’t lose her, sir.”
“Let’s just pray you don’t.”
The dean’s cell phone starts ringing and he snatches it up. “Yes… Okay, thank you. Send them through.”
Five minutes later Chris’s parents burst through the door. I’m pretty sure they’re not her parents, which is why I asked the dean to call them first. Now that I study them, I realize Chris doesn’t look anything like either of them.
The tall man glares down at me and starts barking. “Who is this? What is he doing here? Is this boy responsible in some way?”
His voice is loud and brash, obviously pissed off. The woman behind him is a different story. Her mouth is set in a hard line, her narrow eyes giving nothing away.
The dean stands in that slow, regal way of his and stares the big guy down. “If you’ll please calm down, Mr. Lorden. This boy here is the one who alerted me to Chris’s disappearance. If you could please enlighten us further, we’d very much appreciate it.”
“What do you know already?” The female agent (I have to assume that’s what these two people are—government agents) steps right up to my chair and drills me with a look that demands the truth.