Songs For Cricket

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Songs For Cricket Page 16

by Terri E. Laine


  That shocked me. “Who?”

  “Greg Hastings.”

  I glanced at him, thinking about what a tangled web was being created.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Let me talk to him, but I’ll say this. He’s a good cop. You can trust him.”

  I murmured a thanks and held out the phone to him.

  “Who is it?” he asked. “No, let me guess. It’s my sister.”

  I nodded, and he took the phone.

  “I know,” he said, looking exasperated. The muted yelling from the other end was audible, but I couldn’t make out the words. “Look. I’m doing my job, and I can’t talk to you about this. If you bring Dad in, it will just complicate things.” He listened some more. “Sorry, but now isn’t the time. I have a job to do.”

  He handed me back the phone, and I gave it to August who stepped out into the hallway with the phone to his ear.

  “If you can’t tell me who this blood belongs to, you’ll tie my hands.” He pointed at the sheets. “This gives us probable cause.”

  Shelly had told me to stay quiet. The jail at the station hadn’t been too bad. So I clamped my lips shut.

  He blew out a breath and circled his fingers in the air. An officer appeared and recited the Miranda warning by heart. My hands were jerked behind me and the metal rings fastened around my wrists.

  “Take it easy,” Hastings told the guy.

  I was shoved out into the hallway, regretting the day I laid eyes on Lacey Foster.

  “What is going on?”

  I lifted my head from counting the number of planks on the floor. Finley stood blocking our path.

  “They’re just doing their job,” I said, hoping she’d let it go.

  “Ms. Farrow, I need you to step aside.”

  My girl was made of sterner stuff. “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on.”

  Miller stepped forward, and I stood straighter, ready to barrel into the guy if he dared touch her. I shouldn’t have worried. Cooper and August filed in on either side of her.

  Cooper spoke to her. “They found traces of blood on Shepard’s sheets, and he refuses to tell them how it got there.”

  Her eyes bore into mine, and I glanced away because I wasn’t going to do what her imploring gaze suggested I do.

  “It’s mine,” she said with a bite in her tone.

  My focus shot in her direction and held, afraid of what I’d find in her brother’s glare.

  “Are you saying he attacked you, too?” Miller asked, always assuming the worst when it came to me.

  “No,” she said. “We had sex. Is that enough information for you? Or should I detail it?”

  Her bolstering words made me want to cheer at her fortitude and cringe at the idea of what it would cost me. I felt August’s glower boring into me.

  Hastings stepped forward. “You don’t have to describe, but I need to know what would have caused the blood stains.”

  Finley’s face turned red hot, but she sucked in a breath and told them.

  “It was my first time. I was a virgin.”

  I hated that she had to tell a room full of strangers something so private. Maybe her father was right. I was turning out to be the cancer he said I would be.

  “You realize that if we test this against your DNA and it’s found not to be a match, I can charge you with obstruction of justice.”

  Finley nodded.

  “Do you want to amend your statement?”

  She shook her head.

  “Let him go. And Ms. Farrow,” he handed her a business card. “Call me in the morning. I’ll give you the details for the DNA sample. I’ll tell you both, don’t think about leaving town, or I’ll be forced to find you.”

  Miller looked on the verge of exploding. “This is bullshit. We know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He’s a little Richard Wyatt in the making.”

  They knew. My mother had changed my name to her maiden one so that time would make people forget and not associate me with my dad.

  Hastings held up a hand. “We don’t have probable cause.”

  Finley stepped forward and deflected the mention of my father with her next question.

  “You’re taking that?” she asked, pointing to the notebook sealed in a clear bag, not finished fighting on my behalf.

  “It’s evidence for now. He will get a receipt for everything. If he’s cleared, he can have it all back,” Hastings offered.

  I rubbed at my wrists after being set free, still not able to look in August’s direction.

  “One more thing, Ms. Farrow. Did you and Mr. Connelly use protection?”

  “Yes,” the redness crept back into her cheeks.

  He nodded. “Where did you get it from?”

  “He opened a new box from his drawer,” she answered with no hesitation.

  He glanced at his partner, and then they left. When the front door closed, August stepped in front of Finley blocking my view.

  “Are you crazy? I get protecting Shep any way we can, but they are going to find out the truth.”

  In her silence, he whirled around to face me.

  “Set her straight, Shep. I won’t let my sister go to jail because some crazy bitch is out to get you.” He glanced between us. “The whole condom thing was a guess, right? I mean where else do guys keep their stash.”

  He was focused on me as I tried to come up with anything to say.

  “I didn’t lie, August,” Finley said quietly.

  His head whipped around to her. “What?”

  “I love her,” I said. “I always have.”

  “You fucking what?” In two quick strides he was in my face. “Take that shit back. You did not defile my sister. You would never do something like that to me.”

  His utter belief in me cut to my core.

  Finley moved to our side. “August, I love him too. And this isn’t about you. I made my choice, and you should respect that.”

  I had one second to move as his fist came flying. He caught me in my jaw with his teeth-rattling right cross. I hadn’t had time to brace myself, so I stumbled back a few steps. He came at me, and I didn’t put up a fight. He had every right in the world to hate me.

  Cooper caught him from behind as spittle flew from August’s mouth. His fury showed itself in his next sentence.

  “You are dead to me,” were his parting words.

  He shook out of his brother’s hold.

  Finley moved to intercept him as he headed for the stairs.

  “Don’t do this,” she implored.

  He stopped, pivoted to face her and let out a cruel chuckle. “I’ve given you everything all my life. And you had to take my best friend from me too.”

  He shot down the stairs like a lightning bolt. The slamming of the front door muted Finley’s anguish.

  “You need to ice that. You’re going to have a bruise,” Cooper said with practicality.

  It was time to deal with the other Farrow who showed his anger in other ways.

  “You want to take a swing at me, too?” I asked.

  Finley shifted as if to protect me. Cooper waved her off. “Go get your boyfriend something to ice his cheek.”

  I nodded at her because Cooper probably wanted to chat in private.

  Once she was gone, I said again, “Go ahead, and take a swing.”

  He shook his head. “Why? I’ve been waiting for you two to figure shit out for a while. I’m surprised Auggie didn’t see it,” he said.

  I almost let out an inappropriate laugh. August hated that nickname and probably would have thrown a punch at his brother in his current state of mind.

  “You don’t have a problem with us being together?” I asked.

  “No, I trust you more than some of the other assholes that have tried and failed. Give him time, and he’ll realize that too.” He paused. “I will say, she is my sister, and if you break her heart, I’ll be forced to engage.”


  It was hard not to smile given the grin on his face, but I fought it anyway.

  After he disappeared into his room, I let out the humorless chuckle because that was Cooper. For anyone who didn’t know him, they wouldn’t understand how dangerous his matter-of-fact threat really was.

  Then I was left alone to wonder how long before the word spread that I was the son of a serial rapist turned murderer. Lacey would use that knowledge to destroy me.

  27

  finley

  Everything was so messed up. I couldn’t have ever imagined the rift I’d caused between August and Shepard.

  Shep and I hadn’t spoken much between icing his jaw, but really, what was there to say? I knew August would be mad at Shepard, but I really believed that I could smooth things over. Instead, for the first time ever, I truly believed my brother hated me.

  I woke up cold and alone, having no idea when Shepard left. I felt like crying and not happy tears, which was an odd thing for me. Growing up with two brothers I’d learned to be tough.

  Except now, doubt crept in. No matter what Shep said, his friendship with my brother started long before his love for me. Did he regret choosing me? Would he change his mind and tell my brother he’d break things off?

  That got me mad. I grabbed clothes and headed for the bathroom. Just as I was about to go for the knob, it opened, and I stared my brother in the face.

  “August,” I began.

  His eyes swept passed me as he swiftly moved around me like I was an obstacle in his way and not his sister.

  I reached out, mouth open, but closed my eyes, instead deciding he needed more time. Forcing a conversation now could only mean ugly things said that couldn’t be taken back. And the truth was, I understood his hurt feelings. Growing up hadn’t been easy in our household. We had shared everything except clothes. Shepard had been as much as a brother to him as Cooper. In his mind, I’d stolen him away. So I said nothing.

  It wasn’t long after that we all piled in the car. The ride to morning practice was awkward at best. No one spoke except Cooper who made random comments about the weather. Shepard barely glanced at me, and I might have let my fears get the best of me until his hand found mine and held it the entire way.

  Once we arrived, he squeezed my hand before letting go. I shouldn’t have been disappointed he hadn’t kissed me or walked me inside. He was being respectful of my brother. I was the barrier that had broken a lifelong friendship.

  Cooper slung an arm around me. “Auggie’s being a dick, but he’ll come around.”

  August could hold a grudge. Once he wrote someone off, in his mind, it was for good. August saying Shep was dead to him didn’t declare the beginning of war but the ending that resulted in complete separation. I could see the devastation in Shep’s expression.

  “Are you sure about that?” I muttered to Cooper.

  “Do you remember a time when Shep wasn’t around? Something else is bugging Auggie.”

  I wanted to believe him and thought about Emily. Had something happened between them?

  After practice was over, Shepard and I traded texts. Since we hadn’t become official until yesterday, we hadn’t traded class information. Now I got the bad news that our schedules weren’t compatible. His next class was across campus from mine. We wouldn’t have any time together, not even lunch. I wouldn’t see him again until that afternoon.

  As I barely slid into a seat before class started, I regretted not getting that tour from Tori. I was digging in my bag to get my MacBook Air when girls in a row ahead of me started giggling.

  If they thought they were being quiet, they weren’t, I heard every word.

  “He’s hot,” one said.

  “And smart too,” another said.

  “I’d have his babies,” the first one said.

  “How?” a totally different one chimed in.

  “If Stephen Hawking can, I bet he can,” the first one said.

  “Who’s Stephen Hawking?”

  That was when I sat up because I’d watched the sad movie about the genius who had a disease that basically stole everything from him physically except his mind. Despite his decline and being wheelchair bound, he managed to have three kids with his first wife.

  I stared at Finn sitting in his wheelchair at the lectern and rapidly gathered my things. He wasn’t one of my professors listed on my schedule. I left the classroom as quietly as I could and stopped to check the room number. It was the right place; then I spotted the paper posted nearby stating a room change for my class to one on the second level.

  As fast as I could I climbed the stairs. I found the room and opened it slowly, hoping my late entrance would go unnoticed.

  I’d just stepped in the aisle when the professor narrowed his eyes on me.

  “Ms. Farrow, nice of you to join us,” Professor Wright said.

  How did he know my name?

  “Late, but then again, you’re a minor celebrity, and we should be grateful you bothered to show up at all,” he continued.

  He’d seen my YouTube video and/or my television interview. I felt my cheeks heat fire engine red that had just parked itself on my face.

  “Come on, everyone. Let’s make a space for Miss Farrow to sit,” he directed.

  The place was packed, but in one row, people stood and shifted over, leaving an empty space for me at the end.

  I tried to sit and not slump in my chair as my every move was scrutinized.

  “Alright now, shall we continue?”

  His cynical eyes held mine, and I gave a quick nod, wanting nothing more than to flee. Luckily there was still a little pride left in me that forced me to stay.

  After class, I headed to the front and waited in a short line to speak to Professor Wright. As it moved slowly, I was destined to be late for my next class. But considering how awful this one had gone, I needed to try and salvage any hope he wouldn’t fail me out of spite.

  “Miss Farrow.”

  I jerked my head up and noticed the two people in front of me had vanished. Great. I was looking more and more like a grade A idiot, or was that F.

  “Professor Wright, I wanted to apologize. I was in the wrong classroom . . .”

  I trailed off as he lifted a hand to silence me.

  “Details are important, Miss Farrow.”

  He kept putting so much emphasis on the miss I was starting to wonder if his problem was with me or women in general.

  “No one else found it hard to be in the right place on time,” he said.

  Everything I’d thought to say got filed in my inner trash icon.

  “You may see yourself as the university’s darling, a feminist in the making, breaking all the traditional male barriers, but you are just a student who shouldn’t be in my class. I’m not sure who your advisor is, but this is a second-year class, not a first.”

  Accustomed to defending my choices to my father, I pointed out how inaccurate his assumptions were.

  “I earned enough credits for my advanced placement and international baccalaureate classes in high school. I didn’t have to take a lot of freshman level classes.”

  His lip curled, and I waited for his next derisive statement.

  “Overachiever that you are, I demand absolute perfection in my class. Architects can’t make mistakes with their drawings or a building would be unsafe and couldn’t stand. If you can’t bother to be on time, you should consider withdrawing from my class. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  He walked away, not giving me chance at a rebuttal.

  I stood frozen a second before getting to my next class on time became a priority. I made it there a little late, but thankfully, my tardiness went unnoticed. I spent part of lunch checking online, seeking another open Architecture Design I class and found none available. Then I went to find the email for my advisor so I could email her to see if there was another class I could take to stay on track. Only I discovered an email sent from the school
’s internal communication dated three days ago that my advisor had changed. They were pleased to inform me that my new advisor was the department head, Professor Wright.

  Crap.

  Could my day get any worse? I found myself walking in the café with little appetite. But I ended up getting soup, half a sandwich, and a side salad. I planned to eat the soup and have the rest later when my stomach settled down.

  That was when I found myself with a choice. Emily and Shepard had class. Tori was off campus eating lunch with her father. So did I sit with my brothers where August animatedly held court at the moment or by myself? I opted for hanging solo.

  My solitude was broken when Billy came to sit across from me.

  “Hey, why are you all alone over here?” he asked.

  I shrugged. He was nice and all, but sharing my problems wasn’t a line we’d crossed.

  “I keep asking myself if I should just say it.”

  I glanced up from my soup. “Say what?”

  “I thought we were hitting it off, but you’ve been avoiding me.”

  He was right, and it was time I set the record straight.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . there’s someone else.”

  Shepard.

  “Can I ask who?”

  There was no way I could say anything. He was on the team, and I didn’t know Billy well enough to be sure he wouldn’t use the information to get Shepard and me into trouble with Coach’s new rule. So I shrugged.

  “If you can’t say his name, maybe that means I still have a shot.”

  “Billy,” I sighed.

  “I know you’ve probably heard things about me, and a lot of them are true. But I’ve changed. I think we could be good together.” He paused and got up. “Think about it.”

  I watched as he walked to the long table filled with guys from the team. Team. That was a joke. Professor Wright had called me the darling of the campus where I felt like a total outsider.

  To complete my day, practice turned out to be a disaster as well. I couldn’t seem to kick a ball worth shit. They went wide or wild. Nothing got even remotely close to the uprights. Bryant snickered as I intently studied the ball on my next try to see what I was doing wrong.

  It was quick, but I was sure I saw the substitute holder tilt the ball just as my foot connected.

 

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