From Mission: Mistaken Identity
The school office hummed with activity as teachers checked their staff mail boxes for notes, substitutes signed in and got their day’s assignment, secretaries logged phone recordings of student absences, and others checked in students absent the previous day.
“Hello. Are you back again?” Nancy the math teacher asked.
“Yes,” the slim dark-haired man said.
“Who are you subbing for today?”
“Miss Wellington, again.”
“Samantha is still out?” Stacy, the history teacher, jumped into the conversation. “She never misses even one day.” She turned to Molly, the secretary, seated near the substitute sign-in sheet. “Is everything all right? Is Samantha sick or something?”
Molly’s hand hovered over the receiver of the ring phone. “No, I’m not sure what’s the matter. She called in a frenzy a couple of days ago and begged me to get her a long-term sub. She didn’t explain.”
Deborah, the principal, stepped out of her office and joined the conversation. “You heard about the shooting in the south area neighborhood three nights ago?”
Several people who had gathered in the rear of the office nodded their heads in unison.
Deborah continued. “Well, that’s Samantha’s neighborhood. Only a couple of houses down from hers, as I understand it.”
Nancy’s hand went to her mouth. “Was Samantha somehow involved?”
“Not that we know of, but it must be, in some way, responsible for keeping her from her classes,” the principal said as the morning bell rattled the tense air of the office.
“It has to be something serious, because Samantha hates being away from her kids,” Stacy muttered as the teachers ambled off to their separate classrooms.