by Lisa Jackson
“Everything’s cool,” Shay said without an ounce of conviction.
“You’re sure? I know this has been traumatic for you, what with Nona being your roommate and all.”
“Hey, I don’t need this. I’ve already had the interrogation from the cops and some ‘counseling’ from Dr. Williams, so don’t go there with me, okay?” Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Jules and Trent standing so close together. “What is this, some kind of tag team?”
“Hey!” Trent said, but Shaylee was already jogging off toward the dorm.
Jules whirled on him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her voice low, all her pent-up rage and frustration exploding. “Did you really think you could help? I was handling things!”
“Didn’t look that way.”
“She’s my sister,” Jules hissed.
“Not here she isn’t,” Trent fired back. “Remember that. If you insist on playing this charade, then do it right. You don’t know me, and you damned well don’t know her. She’s in my unit, so it’s only right that I would step in, Jules. Get it straight.”
“Look, Shay’s scared to death, and I don’t blame her. You don’t seem able to do much about that, do you? Wasn’t the girl who died, Nona, one of the students in your pod or unit or group or whatever the hell you call it?”
He just stared at her.
“I thought so.” So angry she was shaking, she stepped closer to him. “We can work on this together, or we can fight about it, but don’t tell me how to deal with my sister. I’ve had a hell of a lot more practice at it than you have!”
She noticed a couple of students, prayer books and candles in hand, heading in their direction and decided to end the conversation.
“I’ll see you at the vigil,” she said, forcing a lightness in her voice.
Trent didn’t answer as she turned away and headed to her quarters. Once at Stanton House, she clambered up the stairs and into her room, where she shut the door and leaned hard against it.
Oh, God, what a day!
Her head was throbbing.
What were the chances of having to deal with Cooper again. Holy crap, what a catastrophe.
She rubbed her eyes, thinking of her next move. No matter what tack she decided to take, she knew the wise choice would be to include Cooper Trent.
He used to be a cop.
He’s smart.
God knows he’s brave.
Work with him instead of against him.
“Yeah, right.” She walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, then stared at her reflection as she patted her skin with a towel. Her eyes were still snapping fire, her hair dark and curling with melting snow.
Maybe Shay was right, she thought as she dropped her towel into the sink, then quickly finger-combed her hair and twisted it into a ponytail.
She snapped a rubber band into place. Maybe coming here, taking the job, was a mistake.
But it was too late to change that now. And she couldn’t afford to be late for the vigil, unless she wanted to draw unwanted attention to herself. No, the more invisible she was, the more innocuous-seeming, the better.
She’d somehow gotten through the fifteen-minute meeting with the reverend and his wife, though Cora Sue had simmered throughout her husband’s we’re-all-just-one-big-happy-family conversation, which seemed ridiculous in light of what was going on.
And Lynch bugged her. Jules didn’t consider herself particularly religious, but she had her own feelings about God and had met a few preachers that she really liked, whose faith was secure and solid, not overblown and dramatic. Those youth ministers had a sense of humor, an overflowing wealth of compassion and a deep-seated trust in God.
Those men and women saw people’s foibles and, with care and love, laughter and hope, helped the misguided or forlorn. They prayed and gave sermons, joined baseball teams, and helped in hospitals. They were part of bazaars and golf tournaments and giving of themselves to their community and others worldwide. Within each and every one was a happiness in their faith and a sense of purpose to do God’s will with an easy smile and a strong, helping hand.
Those men and women held deep convictions, and Jules respected them for it. If she were to guess, though she hadn’t had much time with him yet, she thought the younger man, Reverend McAllister, was someone with whom the kids might relate, a minister whose relationship to them wasn’t out of the Dark Ages.
Not so Tobias Lynch, at least from what she’d observed here to date. Granted, things were tough, and maybe her first impression was off or colored by Shaylee’s jaded reactions to anything that happened at the school.
So far, it appeared that Reverend Lynch was always onstage, performing an act. For all his big talk, there was no way he could connect with his students here. It was almost as if the man were from a bygone time and place.
And he was in charge. Unbelievable.
Returning to the living area, she bundled up against the cold and grabbed the prayer book and fake, battery-powered candle that had been left for her. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
She flew down the stairs and joined the throng heading along recently shoveled paths leading to the gazebo. Snow was still coming down like crazy, piling on rails and streetlamps, causing fir boughs to droop and giving the campus an otherworldly glow. All trails seemed to end in the mass of bobbing white pin dots, the lights of battery-powered candles held by students and faculty spilling out of the gazebo. Only a handful of faculty fit in the small structure, where Reverend Lynch stood atop a platform, his wife and Dr. Burdette flanking him. Yin and Yang, Jules thought. In her stocking cap, down jacket, thermal pants, and hiking boots, Burdette was the direct opposite of Lynch’s wife in her designer ski outfit with fur trim.
Decidedly un-PC.
Not that Cora Sue would care how many ermine or snow leopards had to give their lives for the trim on her hood and high-heeled boots.
Jules had hoped that Trent would be nearby, but he stood on the fringe of the crowd, close to a path that led away from the central campus to the barns and outbuildings, a walkway she’d seen on the map in her room. He didn’t catch her eye, and she chastised herself for feeling disappointed when she should be relieved.
Although she saw Shaylee in the large group, she did not meet her sister’s eyes but let her gaze sweep over the sparkle of white lights and ruddy faces. Staff members were interspersed with the students, and she recognized them all, from Bert Flannagan to Father Jake.
“Thank you all for coming,” Reverend Lynch said. “This is a service for the passing of Nona Vickers’s soul and a request to our Heavenly Father for Andrew Prescott’s speedy recovery….” He led off with a prayer, then a talk about tragedy and triumph. Another prayer and then, with one of the kids strumming her guitar, a final song. Voices, old and young, rose in a short rendition of “Amazing Grace,” the thrumming melody rising to the snow clouds pressing low in the heavens.
If it was a show, it was a good one.
Even Jules was impressed, and she’d been privy to the harsh words between Lynch and his wife, words that seemed at odds with the image of the perfect, loving couple they attempted to project.
During the hymn, someone from the crowd ascended the steps of the gazebo and approached the reverend. Jules squinted against the mesmerizing dots of light to make out Sheriff O’Donnell. What was he telling Lynch?
When the hymn ended, the reverend lifted his arms to the crowd. “My brothers and sisters in Christ, I have some uplifting news from the hospital. Our good friend Andrew awakened after his surgery, and he was able to speak with his family and with the police.”
A murmur passed through the crowd, a collective sigh amid the sniffing and teary eyes.
“That is good news, indeed,” Lynch said, pinching his goatee. “However, from Andrew’s statement, it is clear that both he and Nona Vickers were attacked by a third person.”
The crowd grew silent as the realization set in: Then it was murd
er. For certain. No more doubts: Nona Vickers had been killed.
Taking in the young faces around her strained with fear, eyes dark sockets in the candlelight, Jules suspected that everyone else was drawing the same horrible conclusion.
“Which leads me to remind you all to take caution here on campus,” the reverend said slowly, sincerely. “Honor our curfew laws, and please, travel in groups after dark.” His arms swept wide, embracing his flock. “Let us pray …”
As Jules bent her head, her gaze fell on Deputy Meeker, standing off at the edge of the crowd, his sidearm on his hip, below the waist of his jacket.
A silent reminder that a killer walked among them.
CHAPTER 23
Jules was exhausted, her head throbbing as she sorted through the events of the day. The long drive, the frantic calls from Shaylee, the stress over two students victimized on campus, one still fighting for his life, and now this—a killer in their midst.
She eyed her pain medication and took three rather than two, washing them down with water from the sink in her kitchenette. Peering in the cupboards, she found prepackaged coffee, tea bags, hot cocoa, and a small coffeemaker, similar to those in airport hotels. She heated water, planning to make some herb tea after her shower.
In the bathroom, she stripped out of her clothes and stood under the hot, steamy spray until some of the heaviness eased. She thought of Shay, hunkered over, following the path back to the dorm. For now, while she and Shay were trapped on this campus with the other students and faculty, Jules needed to protect her sister, first and foremost.
What had happened to her sister? The four-year-old who had come running to her as Jules’s bus had stopped at the corner near their house, the eager grade-schooler who had at first idolized her older sister, then used her to help with homework. Shay had always been smart, and Jules had wondered if her little sis was sometimes manipulating her into helping with the homework, just to get out of it herself or to weasel more time with Jules. They’d been together through Edie’s divorce from Max and her remarriage to Rip, seeing their mother’s emotional ups and downs, feeling the burn of her anger or the warmth of her love. They’d stuck together. Even after Jules had moved away, going off to college, she’d tried to stay close to Shaylee, but somewhere along the way, her little sister had veered off the straight and narrow, worrying their mother and Jules as well.
So Jules was here.
And she would help Shaylee any way she could.
After she pulled on some pj’s, she paused in front of the mirror and wondered what Trent had seen when he came face-to-face with her in the parking lot. God, she’d been driving for hours at that point, no makeup. She was still under twenty-five, just barely, but everything she’d gone through had aged her. What had her mother called her? An “old soul.” Of course, that was ludicrous.
“You’re still a baby,” she told herself as she heard her cell phone ringing in the main room. Certain it was Shay again, she flew barefoot into the main room and scooped her cell from the dresser. “Hello!”
“Oh, thank God, I found you!” Edie said, her voice shaking. “Have you heard the awful news? Oh, God, it’s so horrible! I think I’ve made a horrid mistake!”
“Mom, slow down.” Jules had expected the call, though she could never be totally prepared to handle Edie. “Take a deep breath.”
“I can’t calm down! Your sister is at Blue Rock Academy, and there was a murder down there!” She was ranting, barely stopping to draw a breath. “Didn’t you see it on the news?”
“Mom, I know,” Jules said calmly. “I talked to Shaylee.”
“Oh, my God, did she know the victims?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure about the boy, but the girl was her roommate.”
There was a squeak on the other end of the phone.
“But Shay’s all right for now. Shaken up, of course, and she wants to leave. But as I understand it, that’s impossible not only because of the court order but also because right now there’s an investigation by the local sheriff’s department. They’re interviewing all of the staff and students.”
“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” Edie was nearly hyperventilating. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought she needed the structure of that school. I thought … Oh, Lord, Jules, I know you tried to talk me out of this, but I believed Reverend Lynch and Analise and—”
“Mom, it’s okay,” Jules said, though she knew it wasn’t. The only good news was that Edie possessed a scintilla of maternal love. “Shay is fine for now, but maybe you should lay the groundwork to get her out of the school.”
“I can’t do anything. It’s a court order.” She let out a long, trembling sigh, and Jules imagined her chewing on the end of a brightly tipped fingernail.
“Then talk to the judge. Get the attorney back.”
“First I need to talk with Reverend Lynch. I tried earlier but couldn’t get past his secretary.”
Charla King. Jules had met her in passing.
“Keep trying, and even if you do get through, don’t be talked out of it. Have your attorney file a motion or something.”
Edie was calming down a bit. “And then what? Where will the judge send her? Juvenile detention? A psych ward?”
“Maybe she can attend some kind of day facility in a place where kids aren’t getting killed,” Jules said, trying to get the seriousness of the matter across. “Mom, you need to get Shaylee out of Blue Rock as soon as possible.”
“You’re right. I’ll call Max,” Edie decided.
“He hasn’t exactly been the most dedicated father,” Jules pointed out.
“Oh, I know, but he certainly has the money to … what?” Her voice softened and was suddenly muffled as she tried to disguise the fact that she was talking with someone else in the room—no doubt Grantie-Boy, the latest sycophant in her life. “Oh, sorry,” Edie finally said, her attention returning to the phone conversation. “Did Shaylee leave a number where she could be reached?”
“No. You know the school doesn’t allow calls normally.” Jules walked to the tall windows overlooking the campus. Outside, the night was quiet, though she spied a deputy standing near the gazebo. “But she did say that Blue Rock had beefed up security and that there were officers from the sheriff’s department at the school.”
“Thank goodness! That makes me feel a little better. If she calls again, have her phone me, would you? And I’ll keep trying to reach Reverend Lynch.”
You and every other decent parent of the kids here, Jules thought, hanging up and letting out her breath. Dealing with Edie had never been easy, but it was worse in times of crises. It crossed her mind that Edie, if and when she ever got through to Tobias Lynch, might learn more than she bargained for. Especially if Lynch got on his soapbox and started telling her about how the school was coping, providing grief counseling and new security measures, how they’d even recently hired a new teacher in a never-ending quest for quality education, Ms. Julia Farentino …
For now, Jules would have to take that chance. Looking outside again, she saw a deputy in his car smoking a cigarette, the tip glowing red while the heavy snow continued to fall, as if to bury all the secrets of Blue Rock Academy.
Over the years, Shay had lost a lot of faith in her older sister. In many ways Jules was a screwup. She’d messed up her marriage and jobs, and Jules just never seemed able to get her act together. She was always nursing migraines and complaining of sleepless nights; she’d seemed weak to Shay, or at least a victim of her own neuroses, the kind of person who always shot herself in her own foot.
Incompetent.
Too nice. Too worried about what other people thought. Too much like their mother.
But, Shay had to hand it to her older sister. When push came to shove and Shay was in trouble, Jules came through. Who would have thought she’d have the nerve to lie and find a position at the school?
Certainly not Shay.
Not that Shay was convinced Jules could do anything while employed at Blue
Rock. So she was here—to do what? Jules was planning to play some kind of detective to prove that the school was shady? First, Jules was not a crafty liar. And second, well, the school was already on shaky ground with some serious security problems right now. A girl had been killed. What more did Jules need to prove that Blue Rock wasn’t a safe place?
On the other hand, Jules was fighting a losing battle. Reverend Lynch and his henchmen had too much at stake. He was on a power trip, there was big money to be made from the parents of rich juvie Ds, and Shay doubted he and the others would just admit anything even if Detective Jules found something fishy.
For now, Shay decided, as she opened the door to her new room, she’d play along. The room she’d shared with Nona was now being treated as a crime scene, so she’d been moved, after everything she owned had been sifted over by the cops.
Great.
She fell onto one of the twin beds, thinking of all those kids crying at the prayer vigil. Some of them probably didn’t even know Nona. Hypocrites. And she had been the girl’s roommate, and did anybody cut her a break? Not a chance.
She sighed and found herself wishing for her laptop, a TV, or a real cell phone with apps instead of Nona’s stupid bare-bones phone with limited minutes and no charger.
She was going out of her mind. And where was Dawg? Her boyfriend.
Forget him. Deep down you know that he was intrigued with you because of Max.
She hated to think that, but it was true. Once Dawg had realized she was Max Stillman’s daughter, he’d become really interested. As if Max cared a bit about Shay.
Ridiculous!
Refusing to think of Dawg and all the trouble he’d caused her, she eyed the stack of books she was supposed to read for her classes.
Nuh-uh. She wasn’t that desperate yet.
For a second, she thought about Father Jake and wondered what it would be like seriously talking to him. He seemed like a good enough guy, but, then, what did she know about him?
Nothing.
And besides, he couldn’t help her with her problems. No one could.
Stretching on the bed, she heard voices, getting louder in the hallway.