The Underground Man

19

Jeremy Dawson slumped down on his tailbone in his desk chair, stretched his feet out, lolled his head back, and paid no attention whatsoever to the algebra teacher who was droning away at the blackboard. Who needed algebra anyway? Christ, he was gonna be rich.

Jeremy chuckled softly to himself. He closed his eyes, conjured up a vision of scantily dressed young ladies adorning his luxury yacht, pouring him champagne and sticking copious quantities of cocaine up his nose. Beth Killmore was there too, reserved and disapproving at first, but slowly taken in by the affluence of the setting, the magnetism of the young millionaire. She was his now, to do with as he pleased. Ready and willing to serve his every whim.

If he’d let her. If he wanted. If he deigned to let her stay.

Jeremy chuckled again, gloried in his indifference. There she was, throwing herself at him, and he really couldn’t care less. After all, the ball game was on the color TV the girls had set up on the deck of his yacht, the Mets were up and she could damn well wait.

Which she didn’t want to do. What a pain in the ass. Teasing, wheedling, calling out his name.

“Jeremy. Jeremy!”

The voice was not Beth Killmore’s. The yacht vanished. Reality set back in. Jeremy blinked, opened his eyes.

Miss Swain, the algebra teacher, was standing looking down at him. Oh shit, he was in for it now. The principal’s office again? He was in no mood for that today, and-

Jeremy saw the two men standing next to her. The two men in suits and ties. Clean cut, grim, purposeful. Holy shit. Narcs? Was it possible? Were they busting him?

The taller of them stepped forward. “Jeremy Dawson?”

“Yeah.”

The policeman flipped open his wallet, showed his badge. “Come with us, please.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Just come with us, please.”

Jeremy drew back in his seat. “Hey, man. No way.”

The cop shook his head. “Listen, it’ll be easier if you cooperate.”

“Says you,” Jeremy said. “I ain’t done nothin’, and I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

The tall cop sighed. “All right, if that’s the way you want it.”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Jeremy Dawson, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain silent …”