Touch-Me-Not by Cynthia Riggs Page A

for the next couple of hours to take any calls.”
    “It’s only eleven o’clock.”
    “Take a couple of hours, then,” said LeRoy. “Go shopping or something.”
    “If you’re sure?”
    “Take your time,” said LeRoy.
    “Don’t forget to call the school, Mr. Watts,” and with that, Maureen left.
    He went through the files and menus on the computer that had belonged to Jerry Sparks, checked everything that Jerry could possibly have copied from his, LeRoy’s, computer, and found nothing. He went into the washroom and shaved, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and combed his hair. He was a different man.
    Maureen returned a little after 12:30.
    “No calls,” said LeRoy.
    “Did you take care of Mrs. Trumbull’s outlet?”
    “I looked at it. I’ll need to spend a couple of hours. It’s a wonder she didn’t have a fire. Old wiring.”
    Maureen examined him. “You look better, Mr. Watts. I’ll make you a nice cup of tea.” She turned before she got as far as the hot-water maker. “Did you call the school?”
    “I will. Tea sounds good.” He checked the files once more. Nothing. Nothing at all. Sparks’s personal stuff, period. Sparks had lied to him. He’d bluffed. LeRoy felt a surge of relief. He’d panicked over nothing.
    Maureen brought him a mug of strong tea with sugar, which he didn’t usually take, but he drank it anyway and his spirits lifted. He’d wasted time worrying about those damned videos, and he needn’t have.
    “Almost forgot. Isn’t tomorrow your birthday?”
    “Thank you for asking, Mr. Watts. Actually, it’s the day after tomorrow. My daughter and her husband and my two grandbabies are coming tomorrow. I was going to ask you if I might take two days off.”
    “What a cad I am!” LeRoy smacked his hand on his forehead. “I should have remembered. Of course you can take off both days. Thursday, too.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Watts, but I really should get those bills out no later than Thursday.”
    “The bills can wait another day. Have a great birthday. Relax. We’ll see you on Friday, then.”
    “Two full days of grandbabies is enough. I’ll be back on Thursday.”
    “Well, if you’re sure. How old are the grandkids now?”
    “One’s two and the other’s six months.”
    “Time flies,” said LeRoy. He unplugged all the wires so he could return the unit to Howland Atherton, who must be wondering why he was so concerned about the computer.
    Maureen laid some papers on his desk and smiled at him. “You look much better, Mr. Watts. Nothing like a cup of strong, hot tea.”
    “You’re a gem, Maureen,” said LeRoy. “I appreciate all you do for me.” He waited until she’d gone back to her desk and was on the phone before he opened the top file drawer to take out the Taser.
    The Taser didn’t seem to be in the top drawer. Had he put it in a lower drawer? He opened the second, then the third drawer. Not there. Not in the bottom drawer, where Jerry Sparks’s cell phone lay like a dead mouse. He felt the blood drain out of his face.
    Maureen finished her call, set the phone down, and it rang immediately. “Watts Electrical Supply,” Maureen answered. “Just a moment, please.” She pushed the hold button and set the phone down. “It’s the school again, Mr. Watts.” She glanced over at him. “Oh my Lord, Mr. Watts! What’s happened? You look awful!” She put her hands up to her mouth.
    LeRoy, wild-eyed and deathly pale, leaped up from his chair and dashed out the back door. The door slammed behind him.
    Maureen followed him to the door. “Mr. Watts, the school has to see you right away! Mr. Watts . . .”
    LeRoy scrambled into his van and tore out of the parking area.
    What had he done with the damned Taser? Where had he put it? He had to find it, and now. Right now.

C HAPTER 12

    “Your boys are with a teaching aide in the faculty room, Mrs. Watts,” said Mrs. Parkinson. The principal was an imposing figure in a tailored gray suit and white silk