Free A Good Guy With A Gun by Steven Friedman

careful. Let’s put our investigators on him, just to make sure he doesn’t uncover something we don’t want to come out. This new Armed School Guard Law can be really big for us. Its proof that more armed citizens can stop bad armed men. Our sponsors wouldn’t like it either if their gun sales started declining because of some gun restrictions.”
     

Chapter Twenty Eight
    Emory High was now surrounded by yellow Crime Scene plastic strips. Emily parked at the school and ducked under the tape.
    “Hold it ma’am!”
    A young police officer walked up. “Sorry Miss, the building is closed.”
    He pointed to the tape. “There’s an investigation still going on and we don’t want anyone contaminating the crime scene. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”
    Emily was not about to be put off so easily. She smiled. “I understand, officer. I’m Principal Miller’s personal assistant, and he asked me to get something important from the personnel files for the detective who is conducting the investigation back at the station. I’ll just be in there a minute.”
    The police officer scratched his head. “Maybe I ought to check with my chief.”
    She didn’t need this. “Look, I know just where the file is. I won’t touch anything else, I promise.”
    The police officer thought for a moment and finally said, "OK ma’am. Don’t go anywhere else except the office though. ”I’ll be right outside!”
    Emily hurried in before he changed his mind. She went to the door marked Principal and entered to a receptionist’s office. Beyond it was a door marked Private. Not sure where the personnel files would be kept, she first went to a four-drawer file cabinet in the receptionist’s office. Leafing through the folders she saw only receipted bills, handwritten letters presumably from parents, and lists of names of students arranged in years.
    The personnel files would have to be in Principal Miller’s private office. The door was unlocked and she cautiously went in. The carpeted, paneled room contained a polished mahogany desk fronted by a pair of upholstered chairs. The wall was decorated with diplomas, merit certificates and photos of Miller with people she assumed were celebrities.
    Alongside the desk was a small mahogany cabinet. She went to open top the drawer. “ Damn!" she cursed, it was locked. She thought for a moment and then opened his top desk drawer and spied a small key with a round label on it marked Personnel Files . She took the key and unlocked the file cabinet, and began searching through the large office files. Finally she came to the one marked “Shupe, Clay”. She took it out and went into the main part of the office over to the large copy machine. She placed the pages in the in tray and ran off a copy of all three pages. When she was done she slipped the file back into the cabinet and re-locked it. She then replaced the key in the desk and walked out.
    She walked briskly to her car. “Thank you officer”, she shouted as she got in, “I got what I needed. I hope you complete your investigation soon, we all just want to get back to our normal routine of teaching again.”
    Back at their home Keith was waiting. He took the three pages and started to go over them.
    Hmm it says he worked at two other jobs here in Florida as a security guard, but was laid-off; the last one after less than a year on the job. He indicated it was for economic reasons . I wonder though…. Keith thought to himself.
    “Emily”, he called to her from his paper filled dining room table, “Would you be upset if I left for a day or two. I want to go up state to Osceola to check out some of his past employers myself.”
    Emily wasn’t thrilled with the idea of him leaving her so soon after the tragedy, but she had friends who could spend time with her to take some of the edge of the strain of the recent events.
    “Okay, Keith, Do whatever it takes to prove Melissa’s story. You take the Prius. Leave me the