Fire and Ice
Previously: Jeannie has to go outside.
Need to catch up on The Spring? Visit the chapter index here:
10:46 AM - Thursday, November 6, 2014
St Vincent de Paul Church, Steiner and Green Streets, San Francisco
In the spare first aid kit in the black-and-white there was a cold pack. Jeannie broke the inner gel and massaged it to get it flowing. Dash Reilly was sitting in the back seat of the car, legs sticking out of the open door. Seb Podesta was on the seat next to him slumped over and passed out.
“Hagen, this Reilly kid wants to call his father.” The Sergeant approached from the side. “I’m going to call him and have him come and get him.”
“Oh, he wants his Daddy?” Jeannie said loudly enough for Dash to hear. “Great. He can go home and sober up and Mayfield can decide if he wants to press charges.” She looked up at the Sergeant who had a slight smile on his face. “Let me know when the Dad gets here. Don’t let him leave without seeing me. Do you think it would be better to move the car around the corner, or should we just let them sit here so all their friends leaving the funeral can see them?” The Sergeant chortled.
“You’re a hard case, Hagen.”
“Yeah, you should hear what my boyfriend says.” She gave him a smile and moved off to Paco who was leaning against the front of the car. “How’s the head?” Paco was rubbing a spot at the base of his head where it had hit the concrete step.
“Tender, but okay.” Jeannie handed him the ice pack which he immediately pressed to his head. “Thank you.”
“It scared me to see you go down like that.”
“I know what you mean. It was the last thing I thought would happen — I was trying to make sure he wouldn’t fall. I dunno — “ Paco winced a little. “I didn’t clock him as being angry and aggressive. You took care of him real good though.” He chuckled.
“Yeah, so hard to get a hold on a drunk teenager being an idiot.”
“That idiot knocked me flat. You didn’t even hesitate. I’ve never seen someone do a seatbelt hold so quick — and on the stairs? It was impressive.”
“Not really, but I’m glad you were impressed.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
“Yes. With poker lessons.” Jeannie elbowed him softly. “Okay. You sit tight.” She patted his arm. “I’m going in to find Mark.”
The church was beginning to shift with the kind of buzz that happens when a crowd of people become restless. The Mass had been long, and Jeannie felt it could break any minute. She ducked back into the pew where Mark was sitting, just as the priest was beginning to make his final remarks.
“Where have you been?” Mark whispered.
“I — I was having a little…I don’t know. I got really dizzy and needed some air.” She whispered back, looking over toward the front.
“Where’s Paco?”
“He’s still outside. He kind of got hurt.”
“What?” Mark hissed.
“Yeah, he’s okay. I’ll explain in a minute — let’s see who’s here.” Mark was flustered, but as the congregation stood they did too, turning toward the aisle. The priest led the procession to the back, followed by the Thomases, each holding the hands of Eva and Matteo. Other family followed, and then the rest of the pews began to file out in turn. Soon the Headmaster of Academy Prep moved down the aisle, along with Cliff Rollins. Jeannie elbowed Mark behind her to make sure he’d notice them.
“Who is that? Is he a possibility?” Jeannie considered the teacher, noting again that he had a certain appeal. Young, good-looking in a hipster sort of way; definitely crush-able if you were 17. Cliff looked forlorn and pale, but so did everyone.
“Cliff Rollins — he teaches the myth class.” Mark observed him in turn. “And that’s Marjorie Sands. Guidance Counselor.” Jeannie whispered. Marjorie looked positively radiant. She had a slight, but glowing smile on her face as she moved down the aisle.
“Why is she so happy?” Mark asked softly.
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s been busy with everyone needing guidance? Feeling important? She seemed like that type.”
Students began to follow down the aisle, with Jen Tyson leading the way. She’d cut off the blue ends of her hair, but it still looked like Barbie hair with artificial mermaid waves. She looked more fragile and dazed than ever, her blue eyes swimming in her face. Carolina followed, holding hands with Charlie Dagonet who was slipping dark sunglasses on his eyes. Carolina’s face was pink with tears, her long hair pulled back into a sleek bun. Jeannie noted how tall she was — maybe even an inch or two taller than Charlie. She wore a long navy flowered dress and a blazer over it; it made her look strange and older than her usual sporty style. Charlie was in a sharp black suit with a white shirt, face cut into a scowl behind his glasses. An elegant woman behind him touched his shoulder and leaned over to whisper something to him. Jeannie immediately saw the resemblance and thought it must be Charlie’s long-lost mother. On the other side, Carolina had her hand tucked into Ryan Dominguez’s arm. Ryan wore what looked like his suit from Halloween — a tailored suit with sort of 1970s flair. His face was downcast and damp, his eyes red. They were followed closely by MJ and Zizi, looking prim in their uniforms. Both had streaky red faces. Tally Briggs followed, blonde hair perfectly ironed and curled under. She tossed her head a little and pulled out her own pair of sunglasses, but Jeannie noticed her eyes and face were completely dry.
“Ice queen.” Mark whispered, noting it too. Jeannie nodded and watched her closely, her uniform jacket tailored just so, black patent Ferragamo Vara flats on her feet, just a whisper of blush and lip gloss. Utterly cold and insouciant. A few girls wore the Academy Prep soccer team jacket and moved down the aisle together looking dazed, with a few other students trickling behind.
“I’m going to talk to Cliff Rollins,” Jeannie whispered to Mark, heading toward the aisle. “If you can find Jen Tyson, we need to ask her about that sequin top.” Mark nodded, eyes narrowed.
“Where’s Mayfield?”
“Probably still outside on the black-and-white, nursing his head.”
“WHAT?” They were in the vestibule by now and Mark’s question reverberated everywhere. People turned to look at them. She glared at him to be quiet and led him over to the far side of the vestibule where the baptismal font was tucked into a nook with a stained glass window.
“Okay, quick recap.” She whispered the story of the last hour on the outside of the church in rapid order. Mark was practically vibrating with anger.
“So what happened to Dash Reilly?” His jaw was tight.
“I put him in a hold and the Sergeant cuffed him.”
“Fuck, Jeannie.”
“What? I didn’t hurt him — I’m lucky he didn’t knock me down the stairs.”
“Okay, but in cuffs?”
“He’s in trouble. His Dad is on the way, and I was thinking we could use this to our advantage. Get him to talk more?”
“Talk about what?”
“Tripp Hartman, and the drugs and alcohol that goes on in that house. He’s had a front row seat.” Jeannie looked up at Mark. “Let’s let him go, and have his Dad bring him back to the office later to talk about his assault on a federal officer.”
Jen Tyson stood at the foot of the church stairs looking across the street toward the SFPD car with Dash Reilly sitting in the back seat.
“Jen —? Hi, do you remember me? I’m Jean Hagen? We spoke on Sunday at Holy Heart?” Jen looked bewildered.
“Um, yeah, sure.” She said flatly, looking Jeannie over.
“Do you remember Agent Greenberg?” She gestured to Mark. “We just had a quick question for you about your Halloween costume if that’s okay?” Jen nodded slightly but glanced back at the car across the street, and then seemed to have her attention drawn by someone over on the stairs.
“Um, okay. I was a mermaid.”
“Yes, I remember you saying that. We saw a few pictures of you from the party and we saw the blue sequin top you were wearing? Do you think we can take a look at it?”
“My top?” Jen kept looking at someone over Jeannie’s shoulder.
“Yes, it would help our investigation. Can we come by and pick it up to have our technicians look it over?”
“Um…I don’t have it.” This was not what Jeannie was expecting to hear.
“You don’t? Did you lend it to someone —?”
“It was a rental. I rented it — that costume shop on Lower Haight? Alexa helped me with the fishing net part, and little things to make it cooler, but like, that was rented.”
“Ah, okay. When did you return it to the costume shop?”
“Um…maybe like Tuesday? I don’t have it.” Jen just walked away, Jeannie’s next question dying on her lips. Both she and Mark followed her with their eyes as she crossed the sidewalk to chat with Tally who was waiting on the stairs. The two girls exchanged a few words until Jen walked away quickly, her face contorted as though she was crying.
“Mr Rollins? Hi — it’s Jean Hagen, we met the other day at school?” Jeannie had found him near the top of the stairs where the Headmaster and what looked like a few other teachers were chatting with Carole and Spiro Thomas.
“Oh yes, of course. Hi — call me Cliff.” They moved off a few yards to speak more privately.
“Cliff — this is my colleague, Agent Greenberg. We just had a few follow-up questions for you, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. Anything I can do to help.”
“First, I wondered if you knew if Alexa was dating anyone at school? I figure it’s kind of a smaller school, so you may have noticed her hanging around with someone?” Both Jeannie and Mark watched his reaction closely.
“Wow, I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t see her with anyone, but that probably doesn’t mean anything. I’m not exactly the teacher people confide in with their dating gossip.”
“No? You seem friendly and like you may have some camaraderie there.”
“Well, thank you, but not really.” Cliff said quietly, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looked down. “I hear a lot of things from the other teachers in the break room, but nothing ever first-hand, if that’s what you mean. And I haven’t heard anything about Alexa at all. At the top of the year, someone said she was dating someone over at Xavier?”
“Ah, yes, Seb Podesta. But apparently they broke up this last summer.”
“Oh — I- I didn’t have any idea. Again, it’s not something I hear a lot of — I tell my girlfriend I get everything long past its expiration date for some reason.” Jeannie nodded with a slight hum of agreement.
“Okay, we do need to know one more thing. Actually, I should say that we really enjoyed Alexa’s project for Myth and Modern Culture — it was amazing.”
“It was very good, she got an A.”
“I think it was part one? — Is there a part two?”
“Ah, yes, this first project is analysis and then the groups are meant to catalyze their analysis and learnings into a second project where they create their own original work on the theme of the myth.”
“Really? That sounds challenging. Do you know what Alexa was planning for the second project?”
“Um…yeah, she and Charlie proposed doing an original music composition with some kind of poetry as text, either that or they wanted to do a modern play. It was a clever idea actually — kind of a rap-opera thing? They were going to call it “Feo/Ice” like, just with a slash between. “Feo” for Orfeo or Orpheus, and “Ice” for Eurydice — since “ice” is in her name. I liked the concept, kind of a fire and ice version of the myth.” Jeannie was stunned.
“I’m — I’m sorry,” Mark jumped in. “Just to clarify, you mentioned Charlie. Did you mean Charlie Dagonet?”
“Yes, of course. Charlie was Alexa’s group partner.”
!!!!!