Read No Test for the Wicked: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Five Online
Authors: Julie Moffett
Chapter Eight
After the hair appointment, I went straight home. I checked my email and saw that Finn had sent me confirmation that all the necessary paperwork had been signed with Bonnie and she had created a dossier for me as a new student named Lara Carson. She had also sent a courier to my apartment with a school uniform and shoes in my size. I tried them on and as much as I felt like an idiot, they did make me look significantly younger. Add in the blonde hair and I was statistically confident no one would recognize me.
Lara Carson had been born. We were a go for the undercover operation.
I appreciated Bonnie’s foresight in giving me the same initials. The name was also short and sweet, which would make it easier for me to remember. I spent the next hour or so creating Lara Carson and uploading my information to the school’s system. When I was done, I sat back and examined my work. It wasn’t perfection, but it was good enough to fool any curious kids who might try to check me out.
I’d texted Slash that I was going to bed early as I had school in the morning. He texted me back that he’d come over tomorrow. He was involved in the questioning of Ansari Zogby anyway and would update me when he had the chance.
Despite my nervousness about returning to high school, I was out as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next morning, I took a shower and got dressed in the school uniform—a green, white and black plaid skirt, a white polo with the school emblem, a green school sweater and black shoes. I looked really...young. My stomach felt shaky just imagining myself in high school again, so I didn’t spend too much time looking in the mirror.
I grabbed my backpack and drove to school. It all felt a bit surreal. Returning to high school wasn’t at the top of my bucket list, but since this had been my idea, I had no one to blame but myself if it didn’t work out.
I joined a group of students entering the school, hunching my shoulders and shoving my hands into my pockets. The wind was biting cold.
I stepped inside the building and headed for the office. My nerves jangled. I’d met the secretary, Marge, on my earlier visit to the school. She wasn’t in on the deception—only Bonnie and Ron were—so I hoped she wouldn’t recognize me.
The office was really busy. I sat in one of the visitor’s chairs and read a teacher magazine, waiting until things calmed down. After the first bell rang, I stood and walked over to her desk. It was empty. She must have stepped out when I wasn’t looking. I was standing there indecisively when a tall kid with brown hair, piercing green eyes and a mischievous smile strolled into the office.
He came right up to me. “Well, hello there. I haven’t seen you before and I
always
notice the blonde girls.”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “I’m the new kid on the block.”
“Well, welcome, New Kid on the Block. Where’s Ms. Eder?”
“Who’s Ms. Eder?”
He dipped his head at the empty desk. “The secretary.”
I knew her as Marge. “Oh, her. I think she stepped out.”
“Excellent.” He grinned, slid into her chair and began typing on the keyboard.
My mouth fell open. “What are you doing?”
“Fire alarm at eleven-fifteen. Liven up the day a bit.”
He hit a final key with a flourish and bounced into a chair next to me seconds before Ms. Eder stepped into the office. Her gaze locked onto him and she frowned.
“Brandon, seriously? You’re in here again? The day just started. What has happened now?”
“A minor misunderstanding between me and Mr. Jouret.”
“It’s
always
just a misunderstanding.”
“It’s truly unfortunate. I’m one misunderstood guy.”
Marge turned to me and I had my first moment of panic. I let out a breath when I didn’t see any recognition in her eyes.
Instead, she sighed. “Go sit down, Brandon. I’ll tell Ms. Swanson you’re here for the fourth time this week.” Her gaze shifted back to me. “Now who are you, exactly?”
Brandon winked. “Yeah, Blondie, you got a name?”
I cleared my throat. Even though I had permission for this deception, I felt quite anxious, which I didn’t think was a positive attribute for a master of disguise. “Um, Lara Carson.”
Ms. Eder sat at her desk, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Ah, yes, here you are. A transfer student. Just a moment and I’ll print out your schedule.”
A printer chattered in the background and she stood, retrieving a couple pieces of paper. I pulled my winter cap down tighter across my hair and kept my eyes lowered as she approached me.
“Here you go, Lara. I’ve included a map of the school to help you find your classes, but the teachers will be forgiving for a couple of days while you figure out where to go.” She tapped one of the sheets. “Your locker number and combination is here. Your teachers will have the books you require for most of your classes. Here is a tardy slip for today. Would you like me to find someone to walk you to class?”
Brandon stood up. “I volunteer.”
Ms. Eder stared at him. “Sit down, Brandon.”
“Hey, it was worth a shot.”
“I’ll find my way just fine,” I mumbled.
“Okay. Well, you’ll need this, too.” She handed me an access badge. I hung it around my neck like I’d seen the other students do. Bonnie had told me she’d have one ready for me and that Ron would have it programmed to be able to enter Computer Central and other rooms typically closed to students so I could come and go as needed.
“You need it to enter the school. Some rooms with expensive equipment are off-limits and specially coded for staff only. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Good. Don’t lose it. It will cost you twenty-five dollars to replace it.”
“Thanks. I’ll be careful.”
Ms. Eder rolled her eyes. “Stay away from this one, Lara. He’s the resident troublemaker.”
Brandon gave an exaggerated sigh. “Ms. Eder tells all the girls that. Sure takes the fun out of school.”
I turned to leave when Brandon called out, “Hey, Blondie, take your hat off. School policy. Looks like you’re trying to hide under that thing.”
Ms. Eder nodded. “He’s right. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave it with your coat in your locker.”
“Sure.” I pulled off the hat as I slipped into the corridor.
My stomach felt full of butterflies as I walked down the empty hallway. This wasn’t really high school. This was a job and I was an adult. I could easily handle it. I stopped in front of locker 266. I twirled the combination and it opened on the first try. I hung my coat on the metal hook and then added the hat and school sweater. Despite the freezing weather outside, sweat trickled down the back of my neck.
Nerves.
Sighing, I pulled out a notebook, a couple of pens and a scientific calculator out of my backpack. I stuffed my backpack in the locker, closed it and spun the combination.
I took a minute to study my schedule. I’d stacked it with a full array of computer tech and security classes. There was no question the mastermind of WOMBAT was going to be in at least one of these classes, if not all of them. If I were to catch the attention of the leader or other members of this group, I’d have to prove myself in one of these courses and do it quickly. But first I needed a little time to adjust and get the lay of the land, so to speak.
My first class was System Vulnerabilities. I hustled to the classroom, my ponytail swishing back and forth, took a breath and opened the door. The teacher stopped in mid-sentence and looked at me in surprise. I felt every eye in the room on me and tried not to cringe.
“Ah, sorry I’m late.” I handed him the tardy slip and he looked down at it.
“You’re a new student, Miss Carson?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve had some computer classes before?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Try to keep up. Welcome to Excalibur Academy. Our coursework is quite rigorous here. I’m Mr. Fitzgerald. Sit down.”
I took an empty chair in the back of the classroom, pulled out my notebook and pencil and pretended to listen as the teacher began to talk about distributed denial-of-service attacks. I found myself nodding off and had to pinch my leg a couple of times to stay awake. It really felt like old times.
The bell finally rang. Mr. Fitzgerald handed me the class textbook. Expensive, but really heavy. Not wanting to carry it to my next class, I made a beeline for my locker. I turned a corner just in time to see a short, chubby kid being cornered by the drinking fountain by a bunch of tall guys. Other students were crowding around.
A big guy with a brown crew cut got in the kid’s face, maneuvering him backward. One of his buddies slipped in behind the kid and got on all fours. The kid took one more step backward and promptly fell over the kneeling guy. He landed on his rear, his books and papers scattering across the floor.
Jeez. Some things never changed.
Crew Cut started laughing along with his buddies. “You’re such a damn klutz, Wally. Why don’t you look where you’re going?”
Although my mind calculated the odds at 3 million to 1 that I’d be successful in stopping him, I darted forward and stood between Crew Cut and Wally. The poor kid was now on his hands and knees, crawling around the floor behind me, trying to retrieve his papers.
I put my hand on Crew Cut’s chest. I never would have been this brave when I was really in high school. But in the ensuing years, I’d been threatened, stalked, kidnapped, knifed, held at gunpoint and shot, so frankly, I had no more patience for bullies.
“Back off.”
Crew Cut looked surprised at the seriousness of my voice and then his eyes went to his chest where my hand still rested. “Who the hell are you?”
“Someone who is telling you to stop.”
His eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen you before.”
Before I could say anything, a guy strode out from the crowd and stood next to me. It was Brandon, the kid from the office. “Stand down, Mack. It’s her first day. Cut her a break.”
Mack looked down at my hand. I still held it against his chest as if I could physically stop a six-foot-two beefed-up guy from advancing on me.
His mouth stretched into a cruel grin. “You do realize you’re still touching me. You like it, new girl, don’t you? You want me?”
“I
want
you to leave him alone.”
He narrowed his eyes as he studied me. “Haven’t I seen you before?”
“Yeah, last Thursday. I work as a part-time receptionist at the health clinic for sexually transmitted diseases.” I’d once heard Basia say that to a guy she’d wanted to leave her alone. It seemed rude, but it was the best I could come up with on a moment’s notice.
I scored a hit. The kids laughed and Mack’s face reddened. “I’m going to say it again. Move out of my way or else.”
His two friends tried to crowd us. Neither Brandon nor I budged.
Brandon stiffened beside me. “Come on, Mack. Stand down.”
Mack clenched his fist. “Last chance, Brandon. Move aside or you become a part of this.”
I heard Wally stand up behind us. He might have whimpered.
I crossed my arms against my chest, figuring they’d be closer to my face if Mack actually decided to take a swing, which was looking more and more likely. “I don’t know about Brandon, but I’m not moving. Leave the kid alone.”
I saw disbelief in his eyes. Hadn’t anyone in the entire freaking school stood up to him even once?
“Are you for real, girl? Do you know who I am?”
“Other than a first-class jerk?”
His face flushed purple. “Do you know who my father is? You’ll be kicked out of school by tomorrow. Think about it.” He stuck his finger in my face.
Angrier than I should have been, I slapped his finger away and saw the surprise in his eyes. “No thinking required, Mack. I’m not engaging in a battle of wits with you, especially when you’re unarmed.”
There were some more snickers and then a teacher appeared. The crowd instantly dispersed.
The teacher looked between Mack, Brandon and me. “Is everything okay here? What’s going on?”
I turned around. Wally had disappeared.
Mack shrugged. “Nothing at all, Mr. Jouret. Brandon and I were just getting to know the new girl. Right, Bran?”
Brandon met my eyes. “Yeah. That’s just what we were doing.”
Mack hoisted his backpack on his shoulder. “Well, see you around, new girl. Glad you’re here. Looking forward to knowing you better.” He smirked at me and then walked down the hall with his friends.
Mr. Jouret turned to Brandon with a frown on his face. “I would urge you to move on to your next class immediately, Mr. Steppe. No more loitering and no causing trouble. I don’t want to have to send you to the office twice in one morning.”
Brandon winked at me. “Hey, I wasn’t even here, Mr. Jouret.” He disappeared down the hallway.
The teacher appraised me. “You’re new?” He had a faint accent but I couldn’t place it.
“Yes. My name is, um, Lara.”
“Well, welcome, Lara.” He glanced over his shoulder at a girl who was closing her locker. “Would you mind showing Lara to her next class? She’s new here.”
The girl twirled the dial on her lock, then walked over to me. “Sure, what class do you have?”
The bell rang as I fumbled in my backpack. “I don’t know. Shoot. I’m late again.”
“Don’t worry.” Mr. Jouret pulled two pieces of green paper out of his pocket and scribbled on them. “Here are your tardy slips. Where’s your schedule?”
I handed it to him.
“Hmmm...you’ve got Digital Investigations and Forensics. Second floor. That’s a pretty advanced computer class. You got some background to go with that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s the class I’ve got, too,” the girl said. “Come on.”
“Make haste, ladies.”
“We will, Mr. Jouret,” the girl called out as we hurried down the hallway.
I followed her to a stairwell and up a set of stairs.
She looked over her shoulder. “I saw what you did for Wally.”
“Who was that jerk with the crew cut?”
“Mack? He’s an idiot. Thinks he’s God’s gift to women now that he’s captain of the wrestling team. But everyone’s afraid of him. He’s going to target you now, and no one is going to help you.”
“Except for Brandon.”
She sighed. “Yes, except for Brandon. He has a knack for getting into all kinds of trouble.”