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When she accepted the job as Head Teacher at Causton Comprehensive, Sarah Barnaby had grand plans to make the school an active partner in the community and an educational resource for all residents.
It was an uphill battle. Midsomer was a county of long traditions, quaint villages, and gruesome murders. It was hard to break into the close-knit cliques, unless you were, like her husband, the head of Serious Crimes at Causton CID. Though Detective Chief Inspector John Barnaby didn’t so much break into cliques as break them up. Which didn’t make it any easier for Sarah to build partnerships.
Nevertheless, she had made in-roads, some more successful than others. Her latest project, continuing education classes for adults, including one that she would be teaching herself, was starting tonight. She’d been caught up in some last-minute administration issues, so she got to the classroom only a few minutes before the start of class.
To her surprise, one of the first people she saw when she walked in was her husband’s sergeant. She made a beeline for him, grateful to find a friendly face.
“What are you doing here?” Despite her pleasure at seeing him, it came out sounding suspicious. But the last person Sarah expected to find at night school was Ben Jones. It wasn’t that he was ignorant or disinterested - quite the opposite, in fact. He wouldn’t be a detective if he didn’t have a curious mind, but she knew that his educational pursuits revolved around professional development. The history of Midsomer County in the 19th century wasn’t exactly part of the police curriculum.
She couldn’t help wondering if John had sent him to check up on her. She considered Ben a good friend, but she had no doubt where his loyalties lay. If John asked him to jump off a cliff, he’d pack a parachute, but he’d do it nonetheless.
“Is that how you greet all your new students?” he teased. “Because I’d hate to think what that will do to enrollment.”
“Very funny.” But she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Surely you have better things to do on a Wednesday evening.” He was still in a suit, which meant he’d likely come straight from the station. They’d solved a murder the week before, but they were still working long hours getting the case ready for the CPS.
He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “Not really. And crimes have long roots in Midsomer. Thought I’d get some insight.” He smiled. “Besides, I wanted to show my support. You’ve worked hard on the program.”
Sarah had. It took a full year to get the proposal for continuing education classes past the board of trustees, and even then, it had been limited to just three eight-week classes. She supposed it would have been even more surprising if Ben had signed up for introductory accounting or Shakespeare’s sonnets.
“And John didn’t put you up to it?” John had made it clear he was looking forward to Wednesday evenings on his own, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of delegating after-hours surveillance.
Now Ben looked affronted. “I am an autonomous unit,” he retorted, throwing Sarah’s own words back at her. “Wanting to improve myself has nothing to do with your husband.”
She could see she’d hurt his feelings. He was sensitive about his lack of education; compared himself unfairly to John, though perhaps not unreasonably. She was well aware that a university degree could have fast-tracked him to CID and promotion, but selfishly she couldn’t find it in herself to regret that. If Ben had been fast-tracked, he would have been well on his way to chief inspector by now, and likely long since transferred to another department or force. His roadblock was her gift.
“I think you’re already perfect in every way,” she teased, delighted when he blushed, “but I’m very grateful you’re here. As long as you promise not to heckle from the back.”
He took the teasing in stride, despite the blush. “Oh, I plan on being teacher’s pet, right up in the front row with my hand stuck in the air.”
She smiled at the image, picturing him as a tousle-haired boy eager to show off his knowledge. The odds were, he already knew more about Midsomer history than she could ever teach him. His grandmother was a local expert - not just on the history, but the gossip behind it - and he’d grown up on her stories. She wondered if she could work a local legend section in and entice Ben to guest lecture.
The evening bell rang, so she gave him a last nervous smile and walked to the front of the class. True to his word, Ben claimed a seat in the front row, though off to the side. She could see him from the corner of her eye, but only just. It was enough to ground her.
The class went well. One of the advantages of adult education was that the majority of students actually wanted to be in the class. On the other hand, their preconceived ideas were more entrenched, which led to a few tense exchanges, flavoured by the insinuation that Sarah was just an outsider.
Ben intervened twice, asking a careful question to steer the discussion back on topic. It occurred to Sarah that he must use the same tactics in the interview room, or when giving testimony. But when Reg Blundell, one of Sarah’s more intractable trustees, moved from insinuation to outright insult, Ben turned and gave him a pointed look that made even Sarah fall silent. Everything went smoothly after that.
“You’re terrifying,” she told him later, after the rest of the students had filed away. “Is that your bad cop impression?”
“It’s my good cop impression,” Ben replied. “Bad cops look the other way.”
Sarah knew Ben wasn’t the kind of cop who turned a blind eye. But that wasn’t the case department-wide, and Ben had run into trouble earlier in his career for sticking too firmly to his principles. John had told her about the ex-cop, Matt Rowntree, who had bad-mouthed Ben to him. If he’d wanted to undermine Ben with his new boss, it didn’t work. John would never stand for crooked cops, and she knew his cousin Tom had been cut from the same cloth. Ben’s transfer and promotion might have been a long time coming, but he’d landed in the right place eventually.
“I hope John is giving you Pro D credit for this,” she said.
“He doesn’t know about it,” Ben replied, then grinned ruefully at her. “Or at least I didn’t tell him.”
They both knew John had his own ways of finding things out. He might pretend to have no interest in Ben’s personal life, but nobody believed it, not even John.
“Well, if you can hang on a bit while I wrap a couple of things up, I’ll buy you a drink. Meet me at my office in fifteen minutes?”
Ben nodded and stood up, slipping his notebook into his inner jacket pocket. “I’ll get a head start on the reading assignment. Who knows what could happen between now and next week? I doubt your husband will give me time off for homework.”
“Don’t worry,” Sarah said. “You have an in with the teacher.”
~~~
Sarah was just typing up a report to the trustees while the evening was still fresh in her mind, when she heard the outer door of the office open. Thinking it was Ben, she saved the file and grabbed her jacket and purse.
When she opened the door, however, it was an older gentleman standing by the reception desk. It took a moment to place him. Roger Landry, father of Joseph Landry, who had been expelled the week before for dealing drugs on school property. Neither father nor son had reacted well to the news.
“Mr. Landry,” she said warily. Landry had threatened to go to the trustees, until she pointed out that all expulsions were run past the board of trustees as a matter of procedure and that they were well aware of the circumstances already. “I’m just leaving. If you have something to discuss, please make an appointment during school hours.”
“I’m not here to discuss anything,” Landry retorted. “I’m here to make you see reason.”
He stepped towards her, and Sarah was acutely aware of how vulnerable she was, only the reception desk between them. Landry must have been looking for an opportunity to get her alone, and while she didn’t think he’d be foolish enough to physically harm her, he was clearly prepared to intimidate her. She gripped her purse, wishing it held more than just her wallet, keys, and phone. A nice hardcover book would have given it a bit more heft.
“I’m afraid the decision is final,” she said, pleased that her voice was steady. “I can help find another school for Joseph, but we cannot admit him back.”
Landry’s face flushed with anger and this time he raised his hand. Sarah didn’t know if he intended to hit her or just point at her, but she took a step back towards her office door anyway. Then she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and nearly sagged with relief when Ben walked into the office.
“Is there a problem here?” he asked casually, but his eyes were wary as he sized up the situation. He moved around the desk to stand beside Sarah, angling his body so that he never faced away from Landry.
“Everything is fine,” Sarah said, Ben’s presence emboldening her. “Mr. Landry was just leaving.” She didn’t know if John had told him about the Landry situation, but Ben had his own sources and was far more dialed into the community than John was.
But Landry was in no state to be appeased or eased out. “You’re ruining my son’s life. He just made a mistake, but you’re treating him like a criminal.” Again, he stepped forward, but Ben cut him off, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“Your son was dealing drugs to eleven and twelve-year-olds,” Ben replied, confirming Sarah’s suspicions that he kept tabs on incidents at the school. “He’s lucky he just got an ASBO. If it had been down to me, he’d be up against the magistrate.”
Sarah realized he was trying to shift the focus of Landry’s anger, and while she couldn’t help feeling relieved when Landry turned away from her to round on Ben, she was also frightened for him. Landry might hesitate before hitting a woman, but he would have no problem lashing out at a man. Ben was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but Landry was taller and heavier than him.
But Ben just took out his phone and dialed a number. “Hiya, Vic,” he said easily. “It’s Ben Jones. Could I get a patrol unit to Causton Comp? We have an individual who needs to be escorted off the premises.” He paused, listening, but never taking his eyes off Landry. “That’s great. Cheers.” He hung up and slipped his phone back in his pocket.
“There’s a car just around the corner,” he told Landry. “You can leave peacefully now, or you can spend the rest of your evening at the station explaining why you’ve been threatening Mrs. Barnaby.”
“I’m not doing anything until this bitch lets my son back in school,” Landry snarled, trying to move past Ben.
Ben stayed between him and Sarah, his body language suddenly alert. “Sarah, go into your office and lock your door. Mr. Landry and I will have a quiet chat while we wait for patrol to take over.”
Landry tried to push past Ben, but again Ben blocked him. “Now, Sarah,” he said, the earlier easy familiarity gone.
This was what he was like at work, Sarah realized, confident and in charge. She didn’t hesitate to obey, pulling out her phone as soon as the door was safely locked behind her.
“Pick up, pick up,” she muttered, listening to the line ring out. She’d texted John to meet them at the pub when she first got back to the office, so he was probably driving. “Meet us at the school instead,” she said when the voicemail kicked in. “Something has come up.”
Ben had everything under control, she was sure, and patrol was on the way, but who knew how long it would take to sort the situation out. She told herself John would fret if they were late meeting him at the pub. She knew she really just wanted him there.
She could hear Ben talking through the door, but his voice was pitched too low for her to make out what he was saying. Landry responded louder and not very politely. Suddenly she heard a thud, a muffled curse, and the sound of running feet. She hesitated a moment, then cracked the door open in time to see Ben race out of the office. Again, she hesitated, knowing Ben - and John - would want her to stay put, but she told herself that the patrol unit would need to know which way to follow.
She stepped out of the office and saw Ben skid around the corner at the end of the corridor. Sarah realized that Landry was heading for the back exit to avoid the patrol unit. Sure enough, two uniformed officers rushed through the main entrance a moment later. She made a note to commend them on their response time.
“That way,” she shouted, pointing down the corridor. “Sergeant Jones is in pursuit.” She watched them take off down the corridor and hesitated again, then followed. She would stay out of the way, but she had to know that Ben was all right. He’d deliberately put himself between her and danger - and specifically told her to remain out of danger, her interior voice reminded her. She ignored it, but she did slow down.
When she rounded the corner, she saw two figures struggling on the ground and her worry spiked. Ben was younger and fitter, but Landry had the weight and height advantage, and he seemed to be getting the upper hand. Then Ben flipped him over, twisting one of Landry’s arms behind his back, and pinned him to the ground with his full body weight. An instant later, the two patrolmen reached them.
“We’ve got him, Jonesy,” they called out, roughly pulling Landry to his feet, as Ben rolled away.
He leaned against the wall, gulping in huge lungfuls of air. A trickle of blood ran down his chin from a split lip, and Sarah could see a bruise already starting to form on his cheekbone. But otherwise he seemed unharmed. “Take him down to the station and book him,” he ordered. “He can ponder the consequences of his actions overnight.”
Sarah waited to the side until they had handcuffed and led Landry away, then she hurried over to Ben. “Are you okay?”
“Give me a minute,” he gasped. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held it, then released it slowly. “I’m good,” he said. “Is night school always this exciting?”
She laughed, just on the edge of hysteria, and sat down next to him. “You obviously attract trouble. I don’t remember police work being this active in Brighton.”
He grimaced and took another deep breath. “I get in a good foot chase at least once a week. Keeps me in shape.”
“Maybe you should let John take some,” she suggested. “He could use the exercise.”
As if summoned, she heard footsteps pounding down the hall. John skidded around the corner, a look of panic spreading across his face when he saw them on the ground.
“Sarah!” he shouted, hurrying towards them. “Are you all right?”
She stood up. “I’m fine. We’re both fine,” she added pointedly. While she appreciated his concern, it was obvious that Ben was the one who was the worse for wear.
To his credit, John gave Ben the same panicked once over, then handed him a handkerchief. “What happened?”
“Disgruntled parent,” Ben said, pressing the handkerchief against his lip with a visible wince. “Caught me with his elbow,” he mumbled out of the side of his mouth.
“Don’t talk,” Sarah scolded. “Roger Landry came to see me after class,” she explained to John. “Wanted me to take his son back, then took exception when I refused. Ben stepped in when he threatened me.”
John’s fists clenched. “He threatened you? Did he touch you?”
Sarah shook her head. “Ben stopped him before he could do anything.”
“Looks like you stopped him with your face.” John’s attempt at a joke fell flat, as he still looked furious.
Ben just shrugged and pulled the handkerchief away. “It could have been worse. He had a knife on him.”
“He had a knife?” John and Sarah echoed in unison.
“Not for long.” Ben replied with such a sense of satisfaction that Sarah would have smiled if she weren’t so shocked.
“Is that why you told me to go into my office and lock the door?”
“For all the good that did,” Ben complained. “You were supposed to stay put and stay safe, not chase us down the hall.”
“For god’s sake, Sarah,” John snapped. “It’s bad enough I have to worry about Jones racing unthinkingly into danger. You’re the teacher, you’re not supposed to be learning from him.” He glared at Ben. “And what were you doing here anyway? You didn’t say you were taking Sarah’s class.”
“I wasn’t aware I had to clear my personal schedule with you,” Ben replied frostily. “What I do on my own time is my business.” Even slumped against a wall, he managed to look defiant.
“John,” Sarah said firmly. “Calm down. We’re both fine. And it was lovely of Ben to come show his support.”
John allowed her to fold him into a hug, but he was tense in her arms. “Lovely he may be, but he’s also a right pain in my behind, with a bad habit of hiding injuries.”
Sarah pulled away. “Is that true?” she demanded in her best head teacher’s voice.
It didn’t phase Ben. He just grinned cheekily at her. “Split lip, bruised cheek,” he said, pointing at his face. “Nothing a cold drink won’t cure. But I’m not shaving until it heals,” he warned John. “And no carrying an electric shaver around in the glove box this time.”
Sarah didn’t get to see Ben with a beard when he was undercover at the Oblong Foundation, and she still hadn’t forgiven John for depriving her of that pleasure. “You’ll look very rakish,” she said. “You won’t even have to glare at Reg Blundell next week. He’ll be petrified just by your presence.”
John tried, and failed, to hide a smirk. “Have you been threatening public officials, Jones?”
Ben gave him the look. Sarah was pleased to see even John flinch slightly. “I might need to borrow Ben for school assemblies,” she said. “He can just sit on the stage and look menacing.”
“Sounds like child abuse to me,” John replied. “Do I need to call in social services?” But he was watching Ben carefully, a furrow of worry between his brows. “Or an ambulance?”
“I’m fine,” Ben said, shifting uncomfortably under John’s gaze. He dabbed at his split lip, frowned at the fresh spots of blood on the handkerchief.
“Then why are you still on the ground?”
Ben looked around, considering. “It’s comfortable?” But he held his hand out and let John pull him up.
Sarah waited for him to get steady on his feet, then flung her arms around him. He stepped back in surprise, then chuckled and hugged her back. In heels, she was slightly taller than Ben, but she’d worn flats in deference to a long day on her feet. Now they fit together perfectly.
“My hero,” she said. She kissed him on his unbruised cheek, laughing when he blushed. Ben Jones, unafraid to take on a man with a knife, but flustered by a friendly kiss. “Come on. You can take my statement at the nearest pub. I’ll give you extra credit for excellent note taking.”
“I’ll expect first class with distinction after tonight,” he replied. “His nibs can take the notes this time. I’m a witness.”
“His nibs?” John exclaimed in pretend outrage. “First you show me up, then you mock me? If you weren’t Sarah’s hero right now, I’d have to discipline you.” But he was fighting to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards.
“I hardly showed you up,” Ben protested. “We both know if you were here, you’d have talked him down without a split lip or a foot chase.”
“That might be true,” Sarah admitted, knowing that John’s approach would have been more psychological and less physical, “but he wasn’t here, was he? I thought you’d put Ben up to coming to the class,” she told John, “but it’s worse than that. You didn’t even think to try.”
“Actually, I did consider it,” John replied, “but I didn’t think it was appropriate to ask. Fortunately for both of us, he’s a good cop and a better friend. Don’t argue,” he said, when Ben shook his head. “Annoying as you may be, we are both extremely fortunate to have you in our lives. Tonight just proved it.”
John’s words did what Roger Landry’s lucky elbow hadn’t, stunning Ben completely. He stared at them, eyes wide, his lips moving, but no sound emerging. Sarah took pity on him and linked her arm with his. “Drinks,” she repeated. “John’s buying.”
“John is indeed,” John said, clapping Ben on the shoulder, as Sarah led them back to her office to retrieve her jacket and bag.
She could see the knife now, kicked in the corner behind the door. No blood on the blade, thank god. Ben pulled an evidence bag from his jacket pocket and handed it to John.
“When I saw the knife in his inside jacket pocket, I told Sarah to go into her office and lock the door,” he told John. “Then I asked him to raise his arms so I could disarm him peacefully. He refused, so I disarmed him forcefully. Caught me with his elbow when he tried to twist away. Surprised me just enough for him to pull free and do a runner.”
John put the knife in the bag and sealed it. “Then it’s a good thing you were faster. Though you could also have left it for patrol to pick him up.”
Even Sarah knew that would never have happened. It would have been a matter of pride, once that elbow landed. “And miss his workout session? Don’t be ridiculous.”
Ben gave her a grateful smile for understanding, though she was the one who was grateful. Ben had been there for her in more ways than one that evening, supporting her both physically, emotionally, and professionally. It was well beyond his remit, but Ben Jones never did things halfway.
She’d worked hard to make the evening a success, had been almost evangelical in her desire to share the school’s resources and her knowledge with the broader community. But she was the one who had learned something tonight, a valuable lesson in friendship. It was one she would keep close to her heart. Even after Ben shaved.