I kept a neutral expression. The kid didn’t respond at first, then looked over at her.
“What’s that?” he said, roused from thought.
“Benjamin Banneker High School,” she said. “It’s on your jacket.”
“Oh,” he said, without enthusiasm. “Yeah.”
“She runs track. Jannie Cross. You know her?”
The kid gave her a sidelong glance. “She’s in my chemistry class.”
Chemistry and in Jannie’s class. Now I was interested. Real interested.
“Nice girl, that Jannie,” Kate said. “What’s your name so I can tell her I met you?”
He hesitated, but then answered, “Mickey. Mickey Hawkes.”
“Kate Williams. Nice to meet you, Mickey Hawkes,” she said, and smiled.
We pulled over at a bus stop, and more people started to board.
Kate said, “Must have been
scary there for a while yesterday.”
“Scary?” Mickey said.
“You know. The bomb threat?”
His posture stiffened. He said, “Oh, that. It was more boring than scary. We stood there for hours, waiting to see the school explode. I should have gone home.”
“So you were out there the entire time?”
“Yup. Like three solid hours.”
“Huh,” Kate said. She looked at him directly. “Mickey, it’s weird. I’m one of these people who remembers every face they see. And I distinctly remember seeing you come off the Circulator bus at the Vietnam Memorial, maybe twenty minutes after the school was evacuated.”
“What? No.”
“Yes. You were wearing that same windbreaker. You were excited, and looking at your cell phone. Probably at the news that the school had been evacuated, after you called Jannie Cross with the bomb threat.”
The kid locked up for two long beats, before turning fully toward her. He looked past her, over his shoulder to me. In a split second I saw recognition, fear, and resolution in his expression. This was our guy. But he’s just a kid, I thought.
Twisting away from us, he lurched to his feet and stepped onto his seat, holding his cell phone high overhead.
“I’m wearing a bomb vest!” he shouted. “Do what I say, or everyone dies!”
Chapter 31
Passengers began to scream and scramble away from Mickey.
“Shut up and don’t move!” the teen yelled, shaking the cell phone at them. “Everyone shut up and sit down, or I will kill us all right now!”
The few passengers on their feet slowly sank into seats, and the bus quieted, save for a few frightened whimpers.
“Good,” the teenager said, and then called to Gordon Light. “No more stops, driver. Straight south now.”
I wished I had a gun. Lacking that, I eased my phone from my coat pocket.