The slap of his dress shoes hitting the pavement quickened, along with his breath. As Hector Alvarez yanked on the small blue employees-only door of Golden Valley High School, the force of his pull almost sent the papers in his awkwardly held manila folder flying. Clutching at them like a newborn, he caught them, heaved a deep sigh, and proceeded through the door.
During summer break, the halls were unlit, and the main office glowed from a solitary overhead fluorescent. Hector entered the office and headed to Principal Rodriguez’s door. His gut sank when he saw that the frosted glass windows of the principal’s office were black. He looked around. The two secretaries’ desks were unoccupied. One was neat and tidy. The other looked as though a twister had hit it, leaving scattered papers and files in its wake. He turned when he heard someone fumbling under an old copier machine.
“Paper’s jammed,” a loud, cheerful voice rang out. “Goes to figure. I try to get some work done when I can have the copier all to myself, and the paper jams or the toner leaks or some other damn problem.”
Hector was speechless. There was a woman clad in blue jeans, oversized grey hoodie, and ball cap.
“I-I-I have an eight AM appointment with Principal...” he petered out. Her unexpected presence threw off his concentration.
“He’ll be back any minute, honey. Rodriguez came in a little bit ago and turned right around. Said he had left somethin’ at home. Told me to tell anyone lookin’ for him he’d be back in twenty. Then my paper jammed, and I’ve been fiddlin’ with this darn machine ever since.” She pulled out a piece of crumpled paper and presented it as evidence to Hector.
“Will you gimme a hand, honey? Since you have to wait anyways?” she asked. “There’s a box of colored copy paper in the storage closet. Trouble is, the lights don’t work too good and when the door shuts, it goes pitch black in there. If you hold the door for me, I might be able to make some copies before the morning’s over.”
Hector didn’t want to help, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.“I must wait for Principal Rodriguez,” he said.
“We’ll be done before he gets back,” she said. “Closet’s just down the hall.”
Hector distractedly dropped his thick manila folder on the nearest desk before she whisked him out the door.
She led him down the dim, locker-lined corridors of the old high school. They turned a corner and entered a newer and brighter addition where giant windows offered a picturesque view of the Southern Colorado Rockies. The school’s football, baseball, and track fields stretched out before the majestic mountains.
Hector paused to admire the beautiful scenery. He’d gone over the school’s budget with a fine-toothed comb but couldn’t recall spending reports for the athletics department. More money goes to sports than math, art, and music combined. It wouldn’t be surprising if Coach Wayne got greedy, felt like he deserved a little more than everyone else. Wayne would be the first person Hector looked into after meeting with Rodriguez.
Hector looked at his watch: eight-o-five. Now he was late for his meeting. “I have to go. I must speak with the principal.”
From the stairwell, the woman called as she glided up the stairs. “The closet’s just up here, honey. Besides, I don’t see his car in the parking lot yet.”
She’s right, Hector thought as he looked out the stairwell’s window. The principal’s parking spot in the lot below remained empty.
“It’s just storage now. The box of paper is on a shelf in the back. I’ll hold the door open, and you grab it for me.” She stood firm by the door, not moving to go inside.
Hector decided to get the paper so he could return to the office and get on with his meeting. His hand patted the wall for a light switch. Finding it, he flicked it on. Only a dim, red glow emanated from the back of the closet. He flicked the adjacent switch, and a fluorescent weakly flickered. Hector shuffled through the small, cramped closet. He saw camera equipment and film developing chemicals.
“Ma’am, I don’t see a box of paper.”
“I know it’s in there! Check under the shelf!” she demanded, her voice taking on a distinct edge.
He didn’t have time to protest. The lights went out, the door clicked shut, and the sudden darkness blinded him. He assumed he was alone in the pitch-black closet when the red light flicked on. A bright flash produced an ear-splitting sound. His thigh burned in intense pain. He grabbed his leg; it was warm and wet. What the hell… His mind raced. Is this… blood? Hector didn’t have time to form another thought before the second and third bullets penetrated his skull.