Black Smoke

A Lesser Intuition

2:11 PM-
Wednesday

Catching up on schoolwork wasn't the worst part of this particular week. Burnett had somehow managed to get under Dante's skin the minute he returned to school yesterday, whether it was making sure he received every piece of homework owed or having Logan and his friends pack the hallway and make it more difficult for him to get to his next class. Of course, Dante didn't even want to go back to school, but Ricky's remedy had helped him get back to his feet and there was no doubt his parents wouldn't let him miss another day.

As if I didn't have enough on my plate, I suddenly realized prom was two weeks away.
It was never a big deal to me in the past. I never went the previous three years that they held it in the school's auditorium, and now it was suddenly a huge thing since the senior class suggested it be held at a country club a few miles outside of Ashton Creek.

I'm sure Vanessa was all for dressing up. I never really asked what she thought of the whole thing. In all honesty, I haven't even asked if she'd want to go.

"Done," Dante sighed in relief as he finally extricated himself from the living room and homework, slipping into the kitchen. "And to think that essay was going to be turned in halfway complete. You think I could've gotten a passing grade on it if I had?"

I happened to be lying on my back on the sofa when I looked up from one of Dad's newspapers. He tends to leave them on the kitchen table. "It's for English Comp, D. If Mr. Langley finds even the slightest of errors on your paper regardless of the number of pages, he'll fail you."

He narrowed his eyes at me as he pulled a loaf of bread from atop the refrigerator.

"Oh yeah? At least I did something. I haven't seen you do anything at all."

"I finished my two essays in class yesterday along with ten of my P&A homework assignments, which have been turned in. Beowulf can wait another day. My brain is fried at the moment."

And that wasn't a joke. My brain was bouncing off the walls of my skull trying to figure out exactly what's been going on with my dad. I hadn't seen him the past two nights, and his phone kept going straight to voicemail every time I attempted to call him. I was hoping he'd gotten my hundred or so text messages, but the geezer wasn't exactly reliable when it came to remembering to charge things.

I had given Vanessa the gun to keep at her place just until I had everything under control. 

At times, I wonder if it really was my dad who placed the revolver at Mendoza's place, or if it somehow got into the wrong hands and the perp left it there to frame him.

But how could the gun have gotten away from Dad? 

Could the door being unlocked and that weird strong fragrance have been some sort of clue? Dad had still been looking for jobs on Monday when I was still at school, and after that, I was down at Dante's place. He may forget about his phone, but his memory isn't that bad. How could he have forgotten to lock the door if he was leaving?

None of this made sense, but I needed it to, and fast.

"Zay!" Dante called out, jolting me from my thoughts

"What?"

"Did you want a sandwich or not?"

I shook my head. "I'm fine."

But I wasn't, and he didn't seem to notice that. Of course, I told him about the assault on Mr. Mendoza and how the store was raided, but he's been over at my place long enough to know that gun was my dad's. I could've sworn he gloated one night to the both of us while downing another can of beer about being the new sheriff of Ashton Creek now that he had his trusty gun. "Rusty the Revolver", I remember him calling it.