CHAPTER THIRTY ~ OPERATION: COOKIE CUTTER ~ by B.A. Linhares

Panting, I make it to Mr. Jackson’s class in plenty of time—according to the wall clock. I’m either confused about class times schedule or I’m faster on my feet this year.

Josh looks over at me and says, “Hey, there you are.”

I notice the dark circles under his eyes.

 “Hey,” I mutter, plop down next to him, digging through my backpack for my lipgloss. Every time I’m with Josh, I realize how thankful I am to be away from Sean—I’m starting to see just what an arrogant pig he is and wonder how I ever liked him. I smear on some gloss and flick a look at Josh. His eyes widen and I check my teeth for goo.

“Cookie, your face is white as a ghost...what's wrong?”

I just shake my head. “Nothing. Just a little tired.”

Josh nods knowingly.

What isn’t wrong? I want to cry, but not here, maybe not at all, because I want to be done with crying. Oh, nothing, I ran into Sean a few minuets ago. That and the fact that neither one of us got much sleep last night. No. I don’t even want to say his name out loud. I’m afraid I’ll scream. I settle into my desk and turn to ask Josh, “Were your folks mad when you got home so late?”

“No, actually they were glad I was there with you,” he says smiling; his brows come together in a deep frown. “Cookie, my parents really care about you and Mr. B.” Josh’s face softens. “And, if you haven’t noticed...so do I. Just let me know when you want me to take Palmer out back and pound on him.”

I swallow a lump in my throat and feel my face smiling. I don’t know what to say. Carmella shows up, Josh stands up, and scoots in his stool. I notice that he’s favoring his left leg. It’s sticking out straight.

“God, Josh your knees, I’m sorry. I really hurt you.”

Josh doesn’t hear me because he and Carmella are talking about something. Are they…?

Mr. Jackson shouts, “Good day, class!”

I look at the front of the room and see both Mr. Jackson and Karren sitting on the big lab cabinet down front. Mr. J jesters at Karren. “I’d like to introduce you to my sister Karren Longfellow.”

Karren waves. I wave and smile at her. Then I feel awkward thinking, maybe she’s waving at Josh or just in general. He does call Mr. Jackson Uncle Dolph, is she Aunt Karren? I briefly wonder if Karren is married or did she take her father’s name.

In the corner of my eye, I see Josh is totally tuned into what Karren is telling the class. It’s basically the same spiel I heard earlier about her background and Campus Connection. I tune her out and open my notebook and the legal pad Ivan gave me. I want to review the notes I wrote last period––see if they make any sense.

“Okay, check this out!” Mr. Jackson says really loud and I look up. He leaps down from the lab table, rubs his palms together and smiles tightly. “It’s time to get down to brass tacks. For approximately half of the class time, I want you and your lab partner to put you heads together and think like Scully and Mulder on the X Files. At 2:20, each pair will come down front here and report on your initial investigation. We’ll start left to right. I know I don’t need to tell ya’ll to respect your neighbors by keeping your voices low. Right?”

A low hum permeates the classroom. Everybody is really into their assignment. It’s contagious. Josh turns to me and says, “Cookie, I know things have been beyond crazy on your end so if you don’t mind—”

“Wait,” I whisper interrupting him. “I know what you’re going to say. But I’m okay. My Trig class had a sub today and she let us do whatever we wanted for the entire period so I brainstormed. Josh, I came up with the coolest idea. Just let me run it by you.” I flip to my list. “Ready?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Keep in mind, it will need some tweaking. Anyway, I thought about how this Valentine slash KGB dude following me around for whatever reason that we don’t know yet. Well, you read about stalkers all the time in the news. I think kids need to know what to do if someone is stalking them. I came up with the codename for our mission: Operation: Stop-A-Stalker!”

Josh nods enthusiastically. “I like it. But aren’t we basing our case on finding out what happened to Mrs. B?”

“Yes, of course. We’re working with Ivan. But I think I’m on to something that could save lives. Our purpose in this class is to learn crime prevention.”

“True.” Josh turns in his seat and for a few minuets he’s quiet. He thinks my idea is lame. Finally he says, “Do you remember hearing about that senior that was arrested at the end of last year? He was stalking this freshman girl for months. The kids called him Black Billy and the media picked it up. I think his real name was William Black. He started going to school here around January because he got kicked out of a private school. It was all over the news.”

I frown. “No.” I was pretty much in the outer limits at the end of last year. “I’m sad to say I didn’t pay attention to anything in the news that didn’t pertain to my mom’s case.” Josh hesitates and I nudge him with my shoulder. “So, tell me about Black Billy.”

“Well, I saw him a couple of time and he always acted paranoid. He always smelled bad, like he never bathed or washed his clothes. He dressed somewhat Goth, wore black eyeliner and big black boots, but never hung out with the Gothites. He’d lurk around school long after everyone had gone home. I even heard that one of the coaches caught him after practice hanging in the rafters checking out the football team showering.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I almost lost my lunch wondering if he was up there a lot. Anyway, I did some snooping around. I followed him home and found out that he lived with his grandparents because his folks were murdered. After that, I asked my dad about the case. Williams’s grandfather found their bodies chopped up and confronted his grandson. William took off and a hiker saw him in the woods near Chapman State Park. A contingent of about 300 law enforcement officers from the FBI, the nearby County sheriffs' offices, State Police, and the U.S. Marshals Service, aided by experts from federal land management and wildlife agencies, worked around the clock to figure out the best way to track the teen in the wooded area. They found him and turned him over to his grandparents because they couldn’t connect William to the murders. His grandparents were his alibi.”

“So, why’d he run away?”

“The way the news told it about a month after William started going to school here, he started stalking this really pretty freshman girl, I forget her name. He followed her everywhere and even hid out in the bushes in her yard. A neighbor told the police he that while he was out walking his dog, he caught William a couple of times trying to open her bedroom window. The neighbor dialed 9-1-1, but Billy ran away before the cops got there. Of course they questioned his grandparents, but they claimed William was home with them. Then Billy started passing the girl notes at school that said he was going to do something really bad to her little brother if she told anyone that he was watching her. So she kept quiet. A week or so passed and the police picked Billy up and the FBI got involved.”

“Why? Don’t tell me he murdered the girl?”

Josh shakes his head no. “Her father went out to go to work and found Black Billy sleeping in the floor board of his car. Then, just as the FBI was about to let him back on the street, the girl turned over the incriminating notes to the police. She told them that she was afraid of Black Billy and did not want to be afraid. At first she didn't know how to tell anyone then she read about his parent’s murder case on the Internet.”

“So I hope the notes were the so called nails in Black Billy’s coffin.”

Josh flicks me a look. “The FBI confronted his grandparents again and they confessed to making up the fake alibis. William was mad at his parents for not giving him a car for his eighteenth birthday.”

I gasp as the facts come together in my head. “Billy committed the murders on his eighteenth birthday making him a legal adult.”

“Yep! Luckily, the creep is on death row for murder.”

“Thank goodness. Too many weirdos are let out and keep committing crimes.” I look at Jimmy Beal down front bugging Mr. Jackson about something. I wonder if he’s dangerous. I rub the goose bumps rising on my arms. “I think Beals been stalking me for years. If only I could prove it.” I prop my elbow on the tabletop and look Josh.

Josh just smiles at me.

“What? You think I’m kidding. Well I’m not.”

Josh turns sideways and looks me in the eyes. I feel my cheeks heat up as my heart flips like a fish in my chest. “Cookie.” He whispers my name softly and I can smell this sweet breath. “If James is stalking you…I will make sure he knows I’m stalking him.”

“Thanks. I think.” I tug my eyes away from Josh’s stare, pick up my notebook and fan my face. “Um.” I put my notebook down again. Calm down. “So, when do you think Ivan will catch the man following me?”

Josh shrugs. “I don’t know.” He drops his eyes. “May I see your notes?”

I slid my notebook in front of him. “I’m up for any suggestions,” I say, pretending everything is hunky dory.

I sense movement behind me. I glance over my shoulder and shiver. Its Jimmy Beal working his way around the room with a notebook poised in his hand. He stops two tables over to talk to some students. As he talks, his head swivels on his pencil thin neck like a bobble-head doll. When puberty struck, Beal’s forehead grew twice as wide as his chin and his nose began to resemble a beak. His skin still looks like it has never seen the sun. No wonder the kids started calling him Bone-Head-Beal, he reminds me of the skeletons you tack on your door for Halloween. One of the boys tells Beal a joke and he throws his head back and laughs like a donkey. Ewe. It’s like watching a freak show. How on earth could an intelligent-cyber-Goth girl like Jezi Indy, love a super freaky geek like Bone-Head-Beal? Tune in tomorrow…

Our eyes meet briefly and I cross my eyes at Beal. Beal waves and takes a step in our direction. He consults his clipboard and shouts, “Cookie Blakely and Josh O'Dell you are next on my list!”

Mr. Jackson calls him out. “Mr. Beal, please take it down a notch.”

Josh is still reading over my notes. I lean closer to him and whisper behind my hand, “Warning, stalker-wannabe approaching.”

 “What?”

Josh looks up and I gesture with my head at Beal.

Josh glances at Beal. “I’ve know James since kindergarten.” He flips to the next page of my legal pad reading what I wrote about my trip to Austria.

“So. Do you really know him? People are capable of all kinds of things.”

“Just don’t think he’d hurt a fly.”

“Fly spy.” This reminds me. I lean closer and lower my voice even more. “Josh, have you had a chance to drill Beal about talking to Agent Smith last night?”

“Oh yeah...during second period. We both have Mr. Green for Calculus. He was all a flutter telling anyone who would listen about seeing us especially with the story in the news and all. I could only listen to him with one ear while I worked on formulas for derivatives and integrals. I did ask him to stop blabbing it all over the place. For what it’s worth, Beal gave me his word to zip it. Then he went on and on about telling me about this schedule he’s worked out for the mock crime scene photo shoots. He tried to get me to commit us to a time slot.”

“So you told him to bug out right? We can’t have Beal hanging around…” I let my sentence run off before I say too much. The walls have ears.

Josh makes a few notes in the margin of my notepad. “Don’t worry. I told him that he would be arrested if he came within three miles of your neighborhood and that the Feds are looking at everyone as suspects.”

Still whispering. “Still, I don’t trust Beal one iota. He’s always sneaking around taking impromptu pictures––creeps me out––he poops out of the bushes and a flash goes off. Hum, maybe we can get Ivan to throw Beal down on the lawn like he did to you.” Josh turns his head and gives Jimmy the once over as if seeing his old friend differently now that he’s involved in Mom’s case by being in the Metro last night.

Out of the blue Josh says, “Did you know that Beal is also a VCPI, virtual computer programmer intern, at Cornell University? The guy is flat out genus with 3D radiosity and computer graphics!”

“Okay.” Not sure what this has to do with anything.

Then Josh’s expression changes. He looks at me and whisper, “Hey, um, do you know about the picture anthology Beal has of you?”

This time I spin sideways and stare at Josh with my mouth hanging open. “Huh? A what?”

“He said over the years he’d taken a slew of pictures of you and put them in an album. He called it your “picture anthology” and he’s thinking about selling some photos of you to the press to buy more camera equipment. I just happened to over hear him bragging about his photographic skills this morning to a couple of people and your name came up so I tuned in.” Josh sees my face and adds, “Don’t worry, I informed Beal that he would need your permission prior or he could find himself in a major lawsuit.”

I feel heat on my face. I recall how Beal had photoshoped a photograph of me a long time ago. Now I find out he’s got a whole album of me! This is totally creeping me out. “I want Beal to destroy any pictures he has of me immediately!”

“I don’t know if there’s reason to panic, Jimmy takes pictures of everybody and everything. He’s passionate about photography.”

“He’s a freak!” I put my hands over my face. Uh, this is not good. With computer generated applications available there’s no telling what Beal can do with his photography. Ewe...he could even internet-porno me if he so inclined. “Josh,” I ask cautiously behind my hands, “did Beal describe the photographs of me to you?”

“Err, he might have.”

I drop my hands and search his face.

Josh looks culpable. “Like I said, I was working so I wasn’t paying close attention to the discussion because Beal is always going on about his photography. Besides I can only take so much of Beal that early in the morning.”

I’m speechless.

Josh takes out a mechanical pencil and writes in his notebook and (I guess trying to placate me) says, “Will Beal’s photographs ever make it on the cover of LIFE? Doubt it. But I honestly think he is just a harmless, highly intelligent, geeky looking guy trying to fit in with the normal crowd.” Josh lifts a shoulder.  “I can relate. Look, I’ll admit Jimmy has an extreme case of odd, but I don’t think you have anything to fear.”

I moan and look at Josh frowning. Josh by definition is a total geek too. In fact, he could be considered the Geek God of Geekdom. He just happens to be a very nice looking geek now. I point at the sticker on Josh’s notebook that says Geeks are Gods with Pocket Protectors. “So, you think this is true?”

 “Yes, thanks to Steve Jobs.” Josh smiles cutely then gestures at my notes. “Mind if I add a few things to your RAK idea?”

I place my notebook on top of his. “Knock your self out.”

I stare at the side of Josh’s face and mull over my feelings regarding Jimmy Beal. I could kill him for interfering in my business. What gives him the right to take pictures of me? Josh catches me staring at him and I glance down at my RAK ideas on my notebook. “Maybe I should practice what I preach.” I tap the first line with my pencil. #1. Smile at someone you know who is unpopular. “You’re probably right. Beal’s only crime is a bad fashion sense and poor social skills. It doesn’t change the fact that he has all those pictures of me.”

Josh pats my hand. “Don’t worry. If Beal has his own personal photo album of you—I’ll find a way to get it so you can burn it or whatever.”

I smile. “Wow!” I squeeze Josh’s arm. “That gives me another great idea. I think Mom’s high-power night-vision binoculars take digital pictures and video. We might be able to take a decent photograph of Valentine with them or record him––”

“Uh-uh. Too risky. Ivan’s posted surveillance teams all over town. Do you really think we’ll have an opportunity to get that close to him? If they see us sneaking around they’ll pick us up and lock us up in our rooms.”

“Perhaps, but remember.” I count off on my fingers. “I saw Valentine at the Checkmart...in the taxi at school... at the end of my street, and we both saw him last night.” I shake my head picturing that night at the Checkmart. “Man, if I knew then what I know now, I’d have a pictures anthology of Valentine. All we have is the blurry ones on our phones.”

“How do we know where he’ll show up next? Let’s be prepared better next time.”

Josh gets this faraway look. I can almost hear his brain ticking.

“Okay. Now what are you thinking?”

“Beal told me he that was having dinner with his dad last night. I didn’t really care. You’re right. From now on, we both need to be more alert and have our cell phones on and set to speed dial Ivan. You make sure you have your mom’s binoculars working properly. I’ll pick up some decent disposable cameras.”

I give Josh the thumbs up. “Sounds like a plan.”

Josh whips out his palm size note pad and jots down some notes.

Jeez, thinking about seeing Valentine again makes my stomach fill with butterflies. Deep dark trepidation creeps into my heart. I stare off into space and picture Valentine’s face. He winks at me. The little heart-shaped birthmark bobs up and down above his black bushy eyebrow. Does he want me dead? Is that why he’s here––stalking me? A cold ring of cold sweat forms under my arms and I realize I am scaring myself half to death.

Josh looks at me and his brown eyes darken. “What?’

“Nothing.” I shudder and quickly shove the image of Valentine face out of my mind.

“Stop worrying. I won’t let anything happen to you and Mr. B.”

I nod. I’m starting to believe that Josh really can read my thoughts, like Pop and I do to each other. I cross my arms to hide my trembling hands. “So, what next?”

Josh taps his notebook with his pen. “We better concentrate on what were gonna say when we go in front of the class.”

“Okay.”

Josh tells me the plan while writing more stuff in his little notebook.

“Cookie, even though the class thinks that we’re basing our investigation on a phantom stalker.”

I stare at the side of his face wishing my strawberry eyelashes were that thick and long without mascara. He pauses to flip though his notes and I force myself to concentrate on what he’s saying.

“In reality, we’ll be looking for clues, researching, discussing, and trying to find out what happened to your mom. But bear in mind that throughout all this we have to keep our lips sealed. That’s why your Stop-A-Stalker idea rocks. It’s perfect.”

“Oh. Okay. So, we shouldn’t announce to the class––and the world––that we’re actually opened our own investigation on you know who?”

Josh laughs. “Uh. Yes.”

Beal saddles up to our table with his clipboard looking like Lurch from the Munsters TV show. “Hello boys and girls.” Nobody says hi back. Beal slides sideways and smiles his horsey grin at Carmella. “Carm, I need to know what time slot you want for your crime scene photos. There aren’t many left. You have a choice between—”

“Uh...thanks buddy.” Josh sticks one of his legs out and cuts Beal off mid-sentence. “But I don’t think we be needing your services this time.”

Carmella smiles. “Thanks though.”

“B-but...” Beal stutters, and for a precious second, looks completely gutted. Then he stomps his feet and throws a mini-tantrum.

I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

Beal lets out a huff, sticks his clipboard under Josh’s nose, and jabs his bony finger at the paper. His fingernails are chewed down to the quick. I feel my face set in a grimace.

“You have to have at least five professional crime scene photos. Mr. Jackson’s paper clearly states they’re required if you want to pass this course.”

Josh holds up the sheet. “It doesn’t say we have to have you take them.”

Beal looks annoyed. “But I’m a professional. I’ve been studying photographs in detective magazines and on the Internet. I have all the props ready. A case of vampire blood...rubber knives...plastic guns…duct tape...ropes—”

Josh holds up a flat hand. “That’s great Jimmy, it’s just that Cookie and I plan to generate our own photos.”

Beal looks at Carmen. “You have to sign up.”

“Nope. I’m good.”

“Buh-bye,” I say, waving my fingers at Beal. “Move along.”

Beal frowns deeply, sticks his puffy lower lip out, and moves to the next table. Something tells me that Beal isn’t disappointed because we turned down his photography services…I believe that his plan was to learn more about what Josh and I are up to and to be closer to me.

Josh and I accomplish plenty. We give a stunning presentation on our FI (faux investigation) and even get a round of applause. Mr. J. seemed impressed.

“Yo! Hey, O’Dell and Blakely!”

We hear our names and look up at the same time.

“O’Dell,” Mr. Jackson repeats, with a touch of amusement in his voice, “I need to go. You two mind locking up?”

Mr. Jackson is sitting on the edge of his desk. Karren is behind him sitting on a stool, her feet propped up on the edge of the desk. I glace around the room. Everyone is gone except us. Josh and I jump up and start packing our stuff up. During the second half of the class, Josh and I were so involved in the details of our Operation: STOP-A-STALKER layout. We don’t even hear the bell ring that dismissed us for the day.

I look at the wall clock. “Oh my gosh Josh, it’s four o’clock.”

“Holy cow,” he says as we quickly gather our stuff and clomp toward the front of the classroom

“It’s all good,” Mr. Jackson says, gesturing at his half-sister, “I just want to show Karren around town before we meet up with your folks at the Red Bull Café for some barbeque.” Mr. Jackson pats his flat stomach. “I’ve been starving my self all day so I can gorge tonight.”

We stop at the door and I smile guiltily. “Uh...sorry for holding you up.”

Mr. Jackson winks at me and looks at Josh. “Just wondering if you still need a ride home.”

“Uh…if it’s not a problem.” Josh looks at me and then back to Mr. Jackson.

Awkward moment—I want to offer Josh a ride but Sean Palmer is probably leaning on my Mustang as we speak. I slip my back pack over my shoulder. So what if Sean is there. Having Josh at my side is better than meeting Sean alone. No telling what he’ll pull. I tug on his shirt. “Um, Josh? I can give you a lift home.”

He looks at me. “Okay. Thanks. That would be great.”

I smile.

Josh lifts my backpack off my shoulder and onto his, and then raises his hand at Mr. Jackson. “Thanks anyway. Hey, if I don’t see you at the house, you guys have fun tonight.”

Is Josh is insinuating that he and I will be hanging out tonight? Who needs sleep? Besides, I have a hunch we’re going to find out something about Valentine when Ivan calls tonight with an update. I want Josh to be there if things go south. Meaning Valentine got away or worse––somebody was killed. God forbid. But first...I need to figure out what to do about Palmer. This is going to be awkward. I hope a fist fight isn’t in the mix.

I wave at Mr. J and Karren Longfellow. “Bye.”

As we walk down the deserted science wing’s hallway, I notice Josh is limping ever so slightly. I don’t mention it since he said he was okay. He pushes open the glass doors for me leading to the garden area and I smile automatically. Sean never opened door or carried my stuff. What a jerk!

Outside, we can’t help but pause by the fountain and watch the water is bubbling softly. I take a deep breath. The controlled air is so fresh in here. A gigantic yellow and black butterfly is tasting the blue and white pansies in the pot on my right. She follows us out the door. A loud rumble of thunder makes us glance up at the sky. Dark clouds overhead and puddles on the sidewalk.

 “Looks like a repeat of yesterday,” Josh says, hoisting our backpacks up higher on his shoulder. A brisk breeze suddenly lifts the butterfly and carries her up and over the roof’s edge.

“I can’t imagine being that light.”

Josh looks up as a bolt of lightning flashes and thunder follows within seconds. He says, “We better roll.”

We scamper down the wet sidewalk. I take a quick look at Josh trudging beside me. Poor thing, his forehead is dripping with sweat. I stifle a giggle. Those backpacks have to weigh a ton each. He swipes at his eyebrow with his fingertips to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes and I feel bad. He not only carried both of our backpacks, he also insists on opening every door for me.

Out of habit we pause at the corner of the building thinking the same thing. Josh looks at me and asks, “You need to stop at your locker for anything?”

I shake my head. “Nope, I think I have everything I need. Hey...it’s okay,” —I reach for my backpack— “I can carry that. Besides...Josh you’re limping. Josh, I feel really bad that you’re in pain.”

He pushes my hand away. “You trying to make me look like a cad?”

“But...your leg…”

A rumble of thunder booms over our heads.

“Like I said, its fine…lets go before the sky open’s up!”

He pushes open the heavy doors at the front of the school.

“And I thought chivalry was dead. Bludgeoned by women libbers.” I add, “I recall reading somewhere that chivalry nowadays is only selectively administered by well breed men.” Funny how the mind retains lame stuff like that.

Josh laughs. “What can I say? My parents beat me at night.”

During the long haul out to my car, I’ve been mentally debating if I should ask Josh to stay for dinner and completely forgotten about Sean. I know Pop is busy getting stuff ready for our Florida trip. And there’s the West Wedding. As a paid employee, I should help him with the details. Surf City, here I come (I can’t get that song out of my head) I’m going to Surf City gonna have some fun! Mom’s investigation is top priority! I need Josh’s help on our project. Josh is excellent at sizing up the clues. I could call Pop on my cell phone…I don’t want to take the chance he’ll say no.

 “Um, Josh, since your parents are out with Mr. Jackson and Karren tonight would you like to have diner with Pop and me? No sweat if you’re too tired from last night. I mean, I totally understand if—”

“LOOK OUT!” Josh shouts. He drops both backpacks and yanks my arm so hard I think it’s going to pop out of the socket just as a big black Lexus whizzes by—barely missing us. I see Char’s face through the window.

My brain screams Char is going to plow us over!