SK01 - Waist Deep by Frank Zafiro Read Free Book Online

telephone. “Pick up the phone and call them.”
    “Actually,” Jenkins said, removing a digital phone from his belt and holding it up, “we use these.”
    “Well, welcome to the new Millennium ,” I said.
    “You’re very rude, Mr. Kopriva,” Jenkins said dryly.
    “You’re very arrogant,” I shot back and leaned forward in my chair. “You go ahead and call security. Have me escorted off the property. Enjoy your power trip. Then get back to checking hall passes.”
    Jenkins’s scowl had never really left his f ace, but it tightened again. I almost laughed at my earlier thought about his pinched face.
    “Think about this, though,” I said. “You said Kris was just a runaway. You may be right. I’m sure in your line of work, you hear about runaways all the time, so it’s probably no big thing. But to Matt Sinderling, it is a big deal. It’s a very big deal. ”
    “I’m sure it is,” he said dryly.
    “ I’ll tell you something else, Principal Jenkins. I’ve seen a ton of runaways, too. I used to be a cop until I got hurt. I’ll bet you’ve seen a happy ending in most cases, with little Billy or little Susie returning home after a day or two, or moving in with Grandma or some friends.”
    His scowl slackened and I could see I was right. I pressed on.
    “I saw some of the same things happen, but I also saw a lot of runaways that didn’t have happy endings. Those stories ended in drugs, prostitution, even death. Stuff you probably read about in the newspaper but have never had to deal with.”
    Jenkins shrugged slightly. “I’m certain that those horror stories are extremely rare.”
    “No,” I said. “Not rare at all. Just dirty little stories that no one ever hears about because they don’t want to listen. And because it never happens to someone we know. But what if it happened to someone like Kris Sinderling? A beautiful, young, middle-class white girl? Do you think that story would play in the media, Principal Jenkins?”
    He considered my words, then shrugged. “It might. The public has an insatiable appetite for tragedy. Particularly of the salacious kind.”
    “Yes, they do,” I said. “And the headlines would be all about what happened to this beautiful young girl. But after that, secondary stories would spring up. Like how somebody tried to investigate early on. Someone tried to find her, but when he went to her school, the principal turned him aside and wouldn’t allow him to ask a few teachers a question or two.” I fanned my hands in front of me, simulating a headline. “Principal Says Slain Girl ‘Only A Runaway.’”
    Jenkins’s brow furrowed.
    I dropped my hands to my lap. “Your choice,” I told him.
    He fixed me with the same stare he had used earlier. I reflected nothing back. After a few moments, he raised the small telephone to his mouth. There was a sharp transmission beep.
    “Security,” he said.

14
     
     
    I hobbled down the empty school hallway, my knee stiff after sitting in Jenkins’s office. Battered orange lockers stood like silent sentries along the walls. Posters announcing fundraisers and school dances were taped above the lockers. I smiled slightly at the inanity of high school.
    “What’s so funny?” asked the man to my right. He gave me what he probably thought was a hard stare. His large belly strained the tan polo shirt he wore. The words District 17 and Bill were embroidered on the left breast. He carried a digital telephone and wore black slacks and black boots to round out the ensemble. I wondered briefly if the school district had given any thought to how much this outfit resembled the uniform Nazis wore .
    “Nothing,” I said. “Just happy to be alive.”
    Bill grunted disapprovingly. He came to a stop and pointed to a door. “Teacher’s lounge,” he said.
    I nodded my thanks, but he didn’t leave. It was apparent that Jenkins was going to take me up on my offer of having an escort. We went in together.
    When I was a kid, the