Reagan leans closer to me and says, “Yes.”
I’m nodding and checking the clock every few seconds.
“Wait. Grant told John Michael, ‘Don’t forget, I’ve got the trump card.’ Do you think he was talking about having dirt on his dad and the DA?”
“This is some serious dirt. I’m afraid to see what’s next,” Reagan says.
“At least we know why Gaines was so eager to help the River Point Boys,” I say. I’m confident now, because even if there isn’t anything else, this may be enough to cast immediate doubt on the case against Shep.
Not much else until we get to the party the night before Grant is killed. It’s like catching a glimpse into everything I heard about that night. Shep and Grant fighting over me. Logan and Grant getting cornered by the bookies. The girl, Lori, showing up, mad at Grant, and Grant and Henry getting into it.
And then the early-morning hours with them around the fire. It is just as Shep described it. They all get up just as the sun is rising and they head into the house.
“I guess that’s it. They went in to get their stuff to go hunting,” Reagan says.
I keep clicking through, knowing there’s probably not much more to see, until all of a sudden, someone returns to the patio. Checking the time-stamp, I see it’s about six minutes after they all left. It looks like he’s running back into the house—then he comes quickly out again.
Carrying the Remington.
His face is framed perfectly in the image, his hands on the gun.
It’s John Michael Forres.
We walk up the steps to the courthouse, ready to enter our pleas and make everything official.
Dad shakes Mr. Gaines’s hand when he meets us at the door and they speak quietly to one another.
I haven’t told Dad about the picture yet.
But I will.
I’m going to use it to my advantage, just like Grant was going to use it to his.
I peek at the image hidden in my coat pocket. I’ve looked at it every day since Grant handed it to me at the party and said, “It sure would suck if this made it out into the world.”
I still haven’t figured out how he got this. I’ve been to River Point a dozen times, searching for some hidden camera or something.
Grant would have milked this for all he could, for as long as he could, although I don’t know what more I could have given him.
But he crossed the line that night. With me and everyone else.
It was time for Grant to go.
And now it seems like it’s Shep’s time, too.
I pick up the phone to call Mr. Stone. He’s got to know what we have.
The call goes to voice mail.
I try Mom and then Shep, and it does the same.
“Shit! They’re probably already down in the courtroom getting ready.” Because of the problems with Stone’s sight, he likes to get in there early so Mom can help orient him in the room.
Reagan stands up so quickly her chair almost falls over. “We’ll just let the pictures speak for themselves. The control room for the audiovisual stuff is in the office next to the courtroom they’re going to be in. We sneak in there and hook up your laptop and let the images play.”
“We need to make sure Gaines can’t bury the part he played in this. Let’s take the shot of him and Forres with the money and let everyone see it. We’ll let our paper break the story on the corruption that’s happening downtown,” I add. “Are you okay with that?”
Reagan drops down at the desk. “Just give me a minute. My parents will be pissed, but you’re right. He’s corrupt and everyone should know it.” She starts dragging images around. “I’m choosing the images we need to tell this story. I’m putting a ten-second delay at the front so we’ll either have time to get inside the courtroom and watch the show or run like hell away from there. Your choice. I’ll write the story for the paper, with the shots of Forres and Gaines, in the car on the way. What about the one with John Michael with the rifle? Want that one in the piece? If we’re going to do this—go out in the open with it—we should do it right.”
I think about those threatening pictures he sent Shep and me. I think about how willing he was for Shep to go down for this in his place. I think about how Shep thought of him as a friend.
“Let everyone see that one too.”
Reagan burns a copy onto a flash drive, while I throw my laptop back in my bag.
I stop mid-motion and turn to her. “I can’t thank you enough for this.”
Reagan pushes me toward the door. “We’ll hug it out later.”
“You should stay here. I’ll probably get in a lot of trouble. There’s no need to go down with me,” I say to her.
She laughs as she jumps in the passenger seat. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
It’s straight-up nine o’clock when we pull into the parking lot. We run like something is chasing us.
We run like Shep’s freedom depends on us.
Curious stares and startled cries follow us as we barrel down the hall. A quick glance through the window of the courtroom door lets us know everyone is inside. We cut into the office next to the courtroom and open the side cabinet that houses the controls for the courtroom. We nearly drop the laptop in our haste to get everything plugged in.
My hand hovers over the control pad. “Are we ready to do this?” I ask.
“Yes. Do it.”
I tap play and we race out of the room, into the hallway, and throw open the double doors to the courtroom. Everyone stops what they are doing and turns around to see what the commotion is about.
My eyes find Shep immediately. He’s standing at the defense table with his attorney. The other River Point Boys are there along with their families, since they have to put in their pleas for the deals they’re making as well. They are in the gallery chairs behind the defense’s table. Grant’s family is sitting behind Mr. Stone along with the team of investigators.
The judge smacks her gavel just as the screen on the right side of her starts to lower from the ceiling.
Everyone’s attention leaves us and goes to the screens. Everyone’s except Shep’s. He’s worried, his forehead scrunched up, and I give him a big smile that I hope lets him know it’s going to be okay.
Reagan has her laptop, and the second the video starts playing, she uploads the story she just wrote to the school’s online paper.
Now it’s time for the show.
Reagan wasn’t playing around when she said the pictures should speak for themselves. The room is quiet as image after image flashes across the screen.
I watch the River Point Boys, especially John Michael. He’s antsy, glancing from the screen to us and back again.
When the pictures of Grant and the girls come across the screen, you could hear a pin drop. Mr. and Mrs. Perkins drop down in their chairs, and they both start crying quietly. Then pictures of Gaines and Mr. Forres begin appearing and the crowd visibly cringes. Mr. Forres starts screaming to turn it off, and Gaines sinks down on the bench on the side of the room, his face ashen.
The pictures cycle through the party. Since most everyone in the room knows the evidence in this case, it’s not hard to follow the story being played out. When the five boys head off to hunt, the room becomes silent.
And then there’s John Michael, back for the Remington. The slide show ends with the frozen image of him with the gun, the picture time- and date-stamped from the morning of Grant’s death.
John Michael sits down in the chair next to his mother, lays his head on her shoulder, and starts crying.
It takes a while for the judge to get control of the room. Another bailiff is dragging John Michael away from his mom as she clings to him. The other boys are yelling at him and at each other. Grant’s dad looks like he’s seen a ghost. I’m sure it was hard to stomach the pictures of Grant with the girls.
I hated to do that to him, but when you want the truth, you have to take the whole truth. And poor Mr. Stone. He’s sitting at
the prosecutor’s table, his head in his hands.
But Shep’s face makes it all worth it. He’s all smiles, relief radiating from him and his family, and they stand together, wrapped in each other’s arms. He eyes find mine and I’m overwhelmed by what I see there.
The judge pounds her gavel until finally it’s the only sound in the room. “I will have order in this court!” she screams.
Shep’s lawyer stands in front of the judge when she gives him permission to speak. “Obviously, in light of what we’ve witnessed here today, we will not be taking the deal offered by the prosecution.”
The judge looks back at Reagan and me and motions us forward. “This all started when you two entered the room.”
We both nod and she slams the gavel down once more. “Bailiff, take Mr. Forres and his son into custody, please. I would like Henry Carlisle and Logan McCullar detained for questioning. I believe they were here today to swear they saw Mr. Moore with that Remington. And you,” she says, pointing to the district attorney. “I’m giving you the chance to surrender yourself for questioning. I suggest you take it.”
Gaines looks physically ill but manages a quick nod, then follows the bailiff out of the courtroom.
The judge directs her attention back to us. “You two come with me.”
I peek quickly at Mom, who is sitting at the table with Mr. Stone. She gives me a nod of encouragement, and that’s all I need.
Reagan squeezes my hand, and then we follow the judge through one of the back doors to her office.
She shuts the door behind me and instructs us to have a seat.
“What in the world just happened in there?”
Reagan and I look quickly at each other, and then I turn back to the judge and say, “Your Honor, like most everyone at my school, I saw that picture of those girls. And then when I was doing research for Mr. Stone, I found bits and pieces that connected Grant to that picture but didn’t put it all together until very recently. I didn’t know anything about what Mr. Forres was up to until I stumbled on the images from a hidden wildlife camera at River Point. All of the images you just saw came from that camera.”
I pause for a moment and then say, “And I didn’t think it would be a good idea to contact the district attorney’s office with what I found. I just wanted to make sure the images were shown before Shep pleaded guilty. I just saw the pictures for the first time about an hour ago. I guess you could say I thought this was the fastest way to get the information in your hands.”
“Well, you certainly accomplished that,” she says. “Is this the only place you’ve shared these images?”
Reagan takes a deep breath and says, “As journalists, we felt it was important to make sure our readers know what happens in their community…”
“You wanted to be the ones to break the story?” the judge interrupts. “This is going to be a nightmare to unravel.”
“We just shared the images of Mr. Forres and Mr. Gaines. And the one of John Michael with the gun. We didn’t want to hurt those girls any more than they have already been, so those were only shown here.”
The judge leans her head back against her chair. “There’s more to this that you’re not telling me. Why didn’t you see the pictures until this morning?”
I take a deep breath and tell her everything. About following the boys, taking pictures of them, how the camera works, and that the photos are actually stored on the manufacturer’s site.
She leans back in her chair and studies me.
“But I didn’t corrupt any evidence,” I add. “The images are all still there on the site, time- and date-stamped. No one would listen to me when I said Shep didn’t do it, so I had to resort to drastic measures.”
“Drastic measures, indeed,” the judge says with a smirk on her face.
“Am I in trouble?” I ask.
She runs a hand through her hair. “I think they will be dealing with the fallout of those pictures for a while, but for sure, your employment here is at an end.”
I nod. No reason to tell her I was fired almost a week ago. I feel bad for Reagan, though.
“And you need to assume you will be called in to testify in these other matters as to how you obtained the pictures and be ready for them to tear you apart.”
I nod again. At this point, as long as Shep is out of trouble, I’ll do anything.
“And thirty hours of community service wouldn’t hurt either one of you.”
We both nod and answer, “Yes, Your Honor.”
“You’re excused for now,” she says, and we bolt from the room. Gaines, Mr. Forres, John Michael, Henry, and Logan are gone, as are most of their families.
Shep moves away from his family and meets me in the middle of the room. He pulls me in close and swings me around in a tight circle.
“I cannot believe this just happened.”
“I told you it would all work out,” I answer with a relieved sigh.
He brings me back to the ground, then gives me a kiss that should embarrass me in front of my mother and his.
But it doesn’t.
I kiss him right back.
DECEMBER 10, 5:15 P.M.
SHEP: I’m surrounded. They’re out for blood. You may have to rescue me.
A huge smile breaks out across my face. I walk into the other room, and there’s Shep with about six four-year-olds on top of him.
He makes a loud roar sound and the kids giggle so hard they start rolling off of him. He stands up slowly, only the most tenacious ones still holding on. Shep does a monster walk across the small room, kids hanging from every limb.
Mrs. Weis comes into the room, laughing. “Shep, do you need rescuing?”
“Please,” he says desperately.
It takes both of us to untangle the kids from Shep, but once Reagan pokes her head in and mentions the popcorn and movie are ready, they can’t get away from us fast enough.
Shep lies on the brightly colored carpet as if he’s too exhausted to move.
“Y’all are done for the day. I’ll go tell Reagan once she gets them settled in front of the movie that y’all can leave.”
Once Mrs. Weis leaves the room, Shep reaches up and grabs my hand, pulling me down with him.
“How many more hours do we have left of this?” he asks.
I don’t let his words fool me. He loves this more than he’d ever let on. When Reagan and I got assigned to do our community service at Providence House, a shelter for homeless women and children, he volunteered to do the hours with us. Today was our first day, and he’s already the favorite of everyone under four feet tall.
“We’ve got a little ways to go.”
I stand up, then pull his arm until he’s standing. “Don’t get lazy on me now. You owe me a date.”
In the craziness that followed that day in the courtroom, we’re just now getting around to having that very public date in that very expensive restaurant, flaming dessert and all.
At last check, the school’s online paper has had over a million views. And Good Morning America even interviewed us via Skype a few days after everything went down.
Grant’s case isn’t settled yet. There are lots of motions and appeals and pleas concerning John Michael, Mr. Forres, and the district attorney, but none of that is our problem now.
Shep stands up and pulls me close. It’s still so scary to think how badly things could have gone.
“I owe you more than a date,” he says quietly.
I squeeze him tight.
“You two are getting on my nerves,” Reagan says.
“Please. You and Josh aren’t much better.” I move away from Shep, but he doesn’t let me get too far. “Want to go to dinner with us since Josh has practice tonight?” I offer, and Shep pinches me.
“So I can sit across from y’all while you make googly eyes at each other all night? No, thanks. See y’all tomorrow,” she says, then leaves the room.
Shep and I walk hand in hand to his Jeep. Once we’re inside, a text comes over his phon
e. Henry’s name flashes across the screen.
“Are you ever going to talk to him?” I ask.
Sadness crosses his face. “Maybe. But not today.”
Henry and Logan were able to re-enroll at St. Bart’s, but Shep stayed at Marshall. They were both put on probation and have about three times the community service hours we do. And they’ve both been trying to talk to Shep for a while, but he’s not ready to listen just yet. He may never be.
I turn in my seat, facing him, and say, “I’ll make you a deal. We’ll go eat at that fancy restaurant because for some reason it’s a big deal to you, but how about we get our dessert, fire and all, to go, and take it to the tree house?”
His hand moves to my face, then runs through my hair. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”
I lean forward and he meets me halfway, kissing me softly on the lips.
“How about we get the entire meal to go and head straight to the tree house now?” I ask softly.
“Even better.”
I watched Grant walk into the woods that morning. And then I thought about his gun, his beloved Remington that was still in the gun cabinet inside.
The one I wanted to shoot him with when he first gave me that picture of Dad and Gaines. The picture he was holding over me.
I sighted him in. He turned around. I was just going to scare him. I wanted him to know he’d gone too far. Then he asked me what I was doing there, like it wasn’t my right to be anywhere I wanted to be on my own damn land. He wasn’t scared. He was annoyed. So I pulled the trigger.
It felt better than I thought it would.
I waited until I saw my friends coming from the other directions. Then I started running toward Grant too. Everyone was freaking out. They dropped their guns and I made sure the Remington was on the top of the pile along with the gun Grant had. Then we surrounded Grant. They were scared. And upset. But I felt things could be better between us with Grant gone…just like it used to be. There had been a lot of trouble at River Point lately and most of it was because of Grant.
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