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by Justine Davis


  Alex was certain many of the mourners recognized the well-known network news reporter, and the murmur that circled the room seemed to prove that. Tory glanced around, her gaze stopping here and there as if on familiar faces. But then she realized they’d been about to start, and quickly took a seat in the back.

  The minister began to speak, in that generic way of someone who hadn’t really known the person that well. The few personal references had likely been supplied by Marshall, or perhaps Kayla during the arrangements for this service. Rainy’s father spoke, then Marshall, both bringing tears to the eyes of the mourners, and some smiles as they recalled happy memories.

  Alex hadn’t thought of speaking herself. When they reached the point at which the minister asked if anyone else wished to speak, she glanced at Kayla, who shook her head slightly, indicating with a small nod the back of Marshall’s head and slumped shoulders. His speech seemed to have taken every reserve of his energy. Alex had noticed Kayla occasionally reaching forward to grip his shoulder comfortingly during the service.

  Darcy wouldn’t even meet her gaze. She glanced back toward Tory, the most likely one of them to be comfortable getting up in front of a group to speak. To her surprise, Tory also gave her a quick shake of the head, and then a slight gesture with her chin, as if pointing back at Alex.

  She got the message.

  You do it.

  When she turned back, the minister was looking at her. After a moment, she nodded. Slowly, she got to her feet, wondering what on earth she would say. But when she got to the podium and turned to look out at the small gathering, the words just seemed to pour out.

  “We all loved Rainy. She was a bright, talented, successful woman. But she was so much more. She was friend, mentor and, on occasion, mother-confessor. She was peacemaker and ringleader, and above all role model. She got saddled with a group of young, incredibly naive girls who had very little in common except strong personalities that seemed forever at odds with each other. She took those girls—”

  Alex’s voice broke, and she had to stop for a moment. She swallowed hard, fought back the tears that threatened. She saw Christine smile at her encouragingly, Darcy, too. And beside Darcy, Kayla nodded, as if to urge her to continue. Alex took a deep breath to steady herself, and began again.

  “She took those girls and turned them, by hook, crook and whatever trick came to hand, into a team that went straight to the top. None of us would be where we are—or who we are—had we not had the great, great good fortune of having Rainy in our lives. And the hole she leaves behind is unfillable, the wound unhealable. But she would not want us to ache like this forever. I can hear her saying, the moment this service is over, ‘All right, everyone, let’s get on with it.’”

  Alex saw smiles around the room, sad ones, wistful ones, trembling ones, as she used Rainy’s favorite phrase for moving things along.

  “We will miss her. Forever. There will never be another quite like her. But we who are left behind will go on, because that’s what she would want. And for Rainy, we will do what needs to be done, no matter what it is, and we will do it in a way that would make her proud.”

  If she had sounded a bit vehement, she didn’t care. If there had seemed to be a deeper meaning, all the better. If anyone in this room knew anything about what had happened, they stood warned. The Cassandras would find out what had happened, and whoever was responsible for this would pay.

  “Thanks, Alex.” Tory took her hand and squeezed it. “You did it beautifully.”

  “I thought you would—”

  “I know. But I didn’t want anything to detract from why we were here. And sometimes my presence has a weird effect on people.”

  Alex smiled at her fellow Cassandra as they stood in the small area just inside the doors of the chapel. They had all stopped on the way out to express their sympathy and grief to Marshall as well as Rainy’s parents, then had gathered here. “It’s your own fault, for becoming a big-shot reporter.”

  Tory grimaced, but her vivid green eyes twinkled. “Just like Rainy always said. ‘You’re such a ham, Victoria. You’re going to end up a star, you wait and see.’”

  Alex felt her eyes begin to brim at the recollection. “She had such faith in all of us….”

  “We haven’t let her down. And we won’t. Even Kayla’s pulled it out. She’s solid as a rock now. I know Rainy was worried about her.” Tory frowned slightly then. “But what’s up with Darcy?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t had a chance to really talk with her.” Darcy had disappeared immediately after the service had concluded, Alex guessed to calm down the child who had become fussy by the end of the service.

  “How about you and Kayla?” Tory asked in the blunt manner she sometimes used in interviews with great success. “I saw you were sitting together.”

  Alex didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “We’re…working on it.”

  “Good. It’s about time.”

  “We’ve all drifted apart,” Alex said.

  “I know we have. And I don’t like it. Rainy didn’t like it. So we’d better get us all back together, the way we’re supposed to be.”

  “It’ll never be the same,” Alex said sadly.

  “But it would be worse if we didn’t do it, wouldn’t it? If we let it all fall apart, after how hard Rainy worked to bring us together?”

  “Of course,” Alex agreed, Tory’s brisk tone shaking her out of her misery. “And I need to talk to you. About what’s been going on, I mean.”

  Tory smiled grimly. “I know. I didn’t even get Rainy’s message until after—after she died. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you all. Kayla’s given me the basics. And I have to say I don’t much care for what I’ve heard, but I know there has to be more.”

  “A lot. Something’s going on, but I don’t want to discuss it here. After the graveside ceremony, can we—”

  “Alex?” She turned then, to see Kayla coming up behind her, followed by Darcy, her now quieted child in her arms. “What you said…that was lovely.”

  “Yes, it was,” Darcy said, her voice very quiet and subdued.

  “Thank you,” Alex said to both of them, meaning it.

  The two newcomers turned to greet Tory, and a round of hugs followed.

  “Have you given her the latest yet?” Kayla asked Alex, indicating Tory.

  “I was just suggesting we go someplace else to talk about it,” Alex said, glancing around at the people slowly beginning to make their way out of the church.

  “Good idea,” Kayla agreed. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Kayla led the way to the double doors and pulled them open. She was the only one who didn’t react to the blast of heat from outside. It truly didn’t take long to lose your acclimatization, Alex thought.

  Kayla went down the steps still looking back at Alex and the others. “Why don’t we—”

  “Oh, God,” Darcy said, going very still and staring out toward the parking lot.

  The other three women turned to look. Alex saw the van with the satellite dish on the roof, and the network logo on the side. People were scurrying around it, setting up. She blinked. A TV crew? Here?

  “Damn,” Tory muttered under her breath. “It’s ABS. You don’t suppose…”

  She leaned forward, peering around, eyes moving quickly as if she were searching for someone. Her darting gaze stopped, riveted on someone or something. Then she swore again, harsher this time.

  “It is her.”

  “Who?” Kayla asked.

  “Shannon Conner.”

  Alex whirled around. Except for occasional glimpses on television she hadn’t been able to avoid, she hadn’t seen Shannon Conner since her expulsion from Athena. But here she was in the flesh, her shoulder-length blond hair perfectly coiffed, her face artfully drawn with TV makeup, her nails a dagger-tip shade of red as her fingers curled around the microphone she held. And in light of her conversation with G.C., Alex was even more suspicious.

  Alex wondered if
Allison had seen her yet. Like Rainy, her classmate Allison had been a mentor to a group of new Athena students. Allison’s group had called themselves the Graces, and one of them had been Shannon Conner, who had literally fallen from grace. Alex had no idea if there was any relationship remaining between them, or anyone else from Athena for that matter. The woman had had a few friends, as she recalled, but whether they had stuck by her in her disgrace she didn’t know. No one had seemed too upset by her abrupt departure. But Conner had landed on her feet, as her kind—smart and ruthless—often do.

  Alex glanced at Tory. “I always suspected she went into TV reporting mainly to go after you.”

  Tory grimaced. “Sometimes I think so, too. I know she blames me for her humiliation.”

  “Never mind that it was her own actions, trying to frame Josie of all people for stealing, that brought it on her,” Kayla said, her voice cold as she looked at the woman next to the satellite van.

  “Maybe we should just go out another way,” Darcy suggested, sounding anxious. “Get away from her.”

  Alex turned back to look at the fellow Cassandra she hadn’t seen in so long. An Athena, run away? That was so unlike any of them, including Darcy, that Alex couldn’t think of a thing to say. But there was no denying Darcy looked more than wary, she looked frightened. Her grip on her child tightened, until the boy squirmed in protest.

  And then it was taken out of their hands.

  “Uh-oh, she’s spotted us,” Tory muttered. “And here she comes. Okay, remember what you’ll sound like to the uninformed. And beware of sound bites, she’ll try and sucker you into one. Best course, say something totally unrelated to whatever she asks.”

  The blonde and two men, one with a large camera on his shoulder, the other seeming to be only holding a bunch of cables together, were walking purposefully toward them. There was no question of avoiding it now.

  “Might as well find out what the…woman’s up to,” Alex said.

  “Better now than later,” Kayla agreed.

  “The camera’s already rolling,” Tory warned them. “Assume the sound is live, too.”

  Darcy made a small sound, almost a whimper of protest, but Alex didn’t have time to look at her. That Tory was right became obvious as Shannon Conner quickly came toward them, and when she got within hearing distance and they could see and hear she was already talking.

  “—in certain exclusive, private, highly ranked government circles, the reputation of Athena Academy is well known,” she was saying into the microphone. “It’s not a place the average citizen is aware of, although perhaps they should be. Any place with this many connections to the military, and government activities both open and covert, should be under the watchful eye of the public.”

  So that’s her plan, Alex thought. I should have known.

  She felt the pump of adrenaline, as if she were gearing up for a fight. As, she supposed, she was. Conner turned to face them.

  Here we go.

  Chapter 11

  T he blonde had managed to negotiate the church stairs, snap orders at the cameraman, keep an eye on both the cables she was dodging and the women she was heading for, all without missing a step. Or a word as she continued.

  “Where the Athena Academy gets its funding will be the topic of a later investigative segment, but today we will be speaking to several alumni of the supersecret prep school, gathered in Tucson today to mark the untimely passing of one of its most successful and publicly known graduates, attorney Lorraine Miller Carrington.”

  Alex wondered what the woman would do if they simply refused to acknowledge her. Probably make it into the lead story of the day, she answered her own question sourly. She could just hear it, spoken in tones guaranteed to blow things up into a huge drama, how the women of Athena had refused to speak, and what did they have to hide? No mention of their grief, of course, and how they simply might not want it aired for public consumption. Never that.

  “Here we have Alexandra Forsythe, granddaughter of famed financier Charles Forsythe, well known in Washington D.C. power circles.”

  Oh, lucky me, I get to be first. But even as she thought it her mind was racing. She wouldn’t let a bitter, jealous one-time rival rattle her, even if she did have a microphone in her hand, a television camera behind her and a nationwide audience.

  “Since all the records are kept so well hidden,” Conner was saying in a tone that hinted she knew exactly what those records contained, “and Forsythe has a bank of attorneys to shield him, it’s not general knowledge how much he has contributed to the school to be on the board, but what is known is that his only granddaughter is a graduate.”

  Fuming inwardly at the provocative phrasing Conner was using, Alex nevertheless pasted the society smile she’d learned very early in life onto her face. Finally, all that Mayflower family, DAR stuff was going to come in handy. She might actually have to thank her mother before this was over.

  “Why, hello,” she said brightly, with her best blueblood, aristocratic smile. “Are you an advance scout for a TV station? Are we truly going to be on the local news?”

  Her pretense of not knowing who Conner was, and her slight emphasis on the “local” hit their mark; Conner’s lips thinned slightly and her next words were clipped.

  “I’m a network reporter. This is national coverage. Tell me how you all felt when you discovered your friend had been the subject of scientific experiments while she was a student at Athena Academy? Is it true that even though there is absolutely no evidence, you now suspect she didn’t die in an accident but rather was murdered?”

  The bluntness of the question and the shock of realizing anyone outside their circle knowing anything about what they were looking into nearly stunned Alex. Even ignoring the continued purposeful phrasing that made the Athenans appear as if they were fantasizing a conspiracy because they couldn’t accept their friend’s death, she was shocked that Conner knew so much.

  Or thought she knew, she corrected herself silently, remembering that throwing questions that implied knowledge was a typical ruse of reporters, and all too often it worked on innocent people who didn’t suspect the ulterior motive.

  Her practiced social smile held steady, never faltering as she made a production of turning to face the reporter and the camera. Best defense, she thought, and in an elaborate double take, she looked at Conner again.

  “Wait, don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “I told you, I’m a national network reporter.”

  “No, I’ve never seen you on television, it’s…oh, I remember! You were the only person ever thrown out of Athena, for incompetence, lying and trying to frame an innocent student!”

  That ought to get me edited out, Alex thought with satisfaction as she turned away from the still-running camera and clearly irritated reporter. But Alex could have sworn she saw the cameraman’s mouth twitch, as if he were fighting a smile. After a moment to apparently get her temper in hand, the blonde zeroed in on Kayla.

  “It may come as a surprise to the taxpaying citizens of Youngtown, Arizona, that one of their own police lieutenants is a product of a school they didn’t even know existed. And more surprising, that she is assigned to the town of Athens, which came into existence solely to serve that covert school. But here is Lieutenant Kayla Ryan. Since she has no rich grandfather, indeed her family still lives on the Navajo reservation here in northeastern Arizona, she likely had to work a lot harder for her success. She—”

  “Those who didn’t want to work were weeded out early,” Kayla said, the reference back to Alex’s words about her being thrown out of Athena unmistakable.

  There was no hiding Conner’s growing anger now. “As a police lieutenant,” she said, her tone sharp now, “do you have anything to say about the homicide that took place at Athena nearly a decade ago? Have there been more killings since Marion Gracelyn was murdered? Were they covered up? Do you suspect this death is related?”

  Alex barely stopped herself from spinning on her
heel and taking the woman out with a well-placed right cross; to hell with finesse, Conner deserved to be knocked on her ass. One glance at Kayla’s face told her she was thinking along the same lines.

  And Darcy was…gone.

  Distracted, Alex’s brow furrowed. She hadn’t even noticed her departure. Maybe just as well, who knows what Conner would have done to her poor little boy. Before she could dwell upon the abrupt vanishing act, Tory had stepped in to put an end to the verbal fencing.

  “My,” she said smoothly, looking into the camera steadily, her manner as cool and polished as it was on her own broadcasts, “things must be run quite differently at ABS. At UBC they would never dream of assigning a reporter with such an obvious conflict of interest to a story.”

  The cameraman lifted his head from the viewfinder and looked at Conner, as if waiting for her to tell him to shut down. Tory went on speaking, and as was a news cameraman’s instinct—and he was old enough to have been at it awhile—he kept on filming.

  “Being the only person in the history of Athena to be thrown out, accused of a crime, and yet assigned to a story about the school? What an ethical dilemma! For someone who has any ethics, anyway. Of course, a person with ethics would immediately and properly turn that story over to someone else who could do it without bias.”

  “My story will be the truth!” Shannon burst out, losing her cool at last.

  “Oh? Then you’ll want to share with your viewers exactly how you knew to come here today. How did you find out when and where this service was, when no one outside Rainy Carrington’s immediate family and closest friends knew?”

  “None of your business.”

  Tory let the unprofessional response stand. “In fact, how did you even know Rainy was dead? It’s certain no one from Athena told you.”

  Shannon Conner didn’t miss the implied insult. She had been many things, most of them unpleasant, but she had never been stupid.

 

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