Without Mercy

by Lisa Jackson

  “Everyone is.”

  “Including you?”

  He slid her a look. “Probably. But my college team baseball hat wasn’t found at the scene.”

  “So Shaylee’s number one on the list?”

  “Don’t know, but she’s up there. The last person to see Nona Vickers alive, it seems.”

  “So what? Look, Shaylee couldn’t kill anyone! And attack a second person? Get real! Besides, I think another student might be dead, too, the one who no one can find.”

  “Lauren Conway,” he said. “I know.”

  “You know?”

  “I don’t know that she’s dead, but she’s certainly still missing.” He downshifted as the Jeep slid around an icy corner. Jules grabbed the door handle to brace herself. “Let’s start over. Why are you here?”

  She wanted to lie. To tell him that it was all coincidence, but he wouldn’t buy it, and unless she somehow got him on her side, Cooper Trent could ruin everything. “How far is it until we get to the school?”

  “Five, maybe six miles.”

  “Drive slowly,” she said, “and you go first.”

  He slanted a hard look in her direction, then stared out the windshield. “I needed a job.”

  “Bull! You don’t have the patience, temperament, or desire to teach kids badminton.”

  “Maybe I’ve changed.”

  She let out a disbelieving breath. “Sure.” How much more complicated could this get? She twisted in the seat to stare at him harder. “Let’s cut to the chase. Both of us, obviously, have ulterior motives for being at Blue Rock.”

  Beneath his beard shadow, his jaw tightened. “Okay I’ll bite. What’s yours?”

  “I want to get Shaylee out of here.”

  “So yank her.”

  “Can’t. Nor can Mom. Judge’s order.”

  He swore under his breath, but she had a feeling she wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. “Isn’t her father rich? Can’t he hire some hotshot attorney to spring her?”

  “Max seems to think being at the academy will be good for her,” Jules admitted, all the tension of the day seeping into her bones. “For once Edie agrees.”

  “But you don’t.”

  “I’ve done some research. Things here aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, and all this pseudo-Christian rhetoric doesn’t ring true. I’ve seen the mansion on Lake Washington. Someone’s making big bucks off of messed-up kids. It all seems about as real as Disneyland.”

  “And then there’s Lauren.”

  “You got it,” she agreed. “The girl no one seems to want to find.” She thought of her phone conversations with Cheryl Conway. “Except for her mother.”

  He grimaced. “You’ve talked to Cheryl?”

  “Yeah. Have you? Wait a second,” she said, putting some of the ill-fitting pieces of the puzzle together. She’d read that he’d once worked for a sheriff’s department in Montana. “Is that why you’re here? You’re trying to find her, right? Come on. Your turn, PE teacher. What brings you to the Blue Rock Academy locker room?”

  “I can’t really talk about it.”

  “Why not? I was straight with you; I expect the same.” Really she didn’t. Hadn’t he proved what a jerk and liar he was once before? Why should she trust him now?

  Because you don’t have much of a choice. You’re committed now, backed into a pretty tight corner. On top of all that, now Cooper Trent knows you’re lying. You have to trust him, Jules. You’d better get him to keep your secret!

  “Damn,” she swore. If she’d thought things were bad before, she now knew how much worse they could get.

  He stared straight ahead. “I’m being as straight with you as I can.”

  “Sure.” She glanced out the window, wondering at the mountains she’d seen in the brochure, invisible tonight. Snow fell fast and hard, piling on the windshield before the wipers brushed it away.

  “I can’t tell you anything else,” he said. “Really.”

  “Then maybe I can help you fill in the gaps. I read about you working for some sheriff’s department in Montana.” Her eyes narrowed as she remembered Cheryl Conway indicating that sometimes it wasn’t enough to rely on the police to do their jobs; sometimes a person had “to do more.” Meaning what? “So are you working undercover? Is that it?”

  “As far as you’re concerned, I’m a teacher here,” he said slowly as he cranked on the steering wheel. The Jeep rounded a sharp corner, tires shimmying on ruts from the winter’s storms. “And it would make what I’m trying to accomplish here so much easier if you’d refuse your position.”

  “What?”

  “Tell Hammersley and Lynch you changed your mind. No one would blame you.”

  “I’m not backing down now!” she said.

  “It’s dangerous.” A tic was working near his eye as he tried to hang on to the threads of his temper. She remembered that telltale sign from the past.

  “So I should just abandon my sister?”

  “You’re not abandoning her.”

  “Damned straight. So don’t waste your breath trying to talk me out of it!” She was seething now, her blood pressure climbing. “Until Shaylee is out of this place, I’m on staff!”

  His lips drew into a blade-thin line. “You always were stubborn.”

  “So don’t try to talk me out of it, okay? It won’t work.”

  “I don’t want you getting in my way.”

  “Fine!” she said, years of anger roiling deep inside. “Then you stay the hell out of mine!”

  “Jules …”

  Her heart cracked a little at the sound of his voice saying her name, but she wasn’t going to let some long-forgotten, stupid, and oh-so-childish romantic fantasy deter her.

  “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  “Didn’t I just say I’d keep my distance?”

  He winced a little at her harsh words, but she had to make him see she was serious and strong, not the weak, fragmented girl he’d known five years ago. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “You got that right, Cowboy,” she vowed. No one had ever had the ability to wound her like Cooper Trent. She’d make damned sure it didn’t happen again.

  “Look, I just don’t want to worry about you.”

  “Easy solution: don’t.”

  “Goddammit, Jules—”

  “Julia. It’s Julia. Get it straight! There just may be a test tomorrow.” She arched an eyebrow, and as angry as he was, his lips twitched a bit.

  “You’re impossible,” he said without a hint of admiration.

  “One of my finer traits.”

  “What happened to kind, honest, loving?”

  She flipped a hand dismissively. “Overrated. Let’s not go there.”

  “Fair enough.” Was there just a spark of humor in his eyes? She felt herself warming to him again and gave herself a swift, silent mental kick.

  “So give me the rundown on the school. And don’t sugarcoat anything.”

  “Yes, ma’am!” He barked out a laugh, and she didn’t blame him. In all the time she’d known him, Cooper Trent was a straight shooter, telling it like it was and damn the consequences.

  “Well, since I can’t talk you out of resigning …”

  “You can’t. Forget it.”

  He frowned. Seemed to wrestle with a decision and finally appeared to accept the fact that, like it or not, he had to deal with her. “Well, to start off, you said something about there being a test about you? That’s really not too far from the truth. If we’ve got anything, we’ve got rules, regulations, and tests at Blue Rock.” He shook his head and swore again, but some of his ire had dissipated.

  “Is that bad?”

  “Probably not. These kids who come to the academy, they do need structure. No doubt about it. They need to understand and accept authority. And most of all, they have to be kept busy all the time.”

  “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop?”

  “At least,” he admitted. “A l
ot of these kids are smart. Most of ‘em basically good, just out of control.”

  “And the rest?”

  He thought. “I don’t necessarily think it’s the students, but I get a hint at the school, a feeling, of something darker going on, something …”

  “Evil?”

  He shook his head but said, “I don’t know. What happened last night wasn’t pretty.” He glanced over at her. “I found the kids. The boy in a crumpled heap, losing blood, barely alive, and the girl …” Trent stared at the road where the headlight’s beams lit up the snow. “She was strung up on the crossbeams of the stable, naked, bloody, and just hanging in the cold.”

  Jules shivered inside. She’d known that Cooper Trent was a realist, a man who knew that death was just a natural part of life. Even so, he was bothered by what he’d seen last night. Seriously bothered.

  “There’s talk of suicide, that she flipped out and rigged this noose over the beam and threw herself from the stacked bales or a ledge higher up, but I don’t see it.”

  “You think she was murdered?”

  “I’d bet my best horse on it.” He nodded. “Since the Prescott boy isn’t talking, there are no witnesses, so we can’t be sure. Yet. But once the ME takes a look at the body, does the autopsy, we’ll know more.” He slid her another glance, and this one cut to her soul. “Just for the record? My money’s on murder.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Maeve Mancuso reached under the wide bell sleeve of her black shirt and snapped the band against her skin, once, twice, three times. Over and over again until her flesh stung, until it felt real. Real pain. Real life.

  Things were getting monstrously boring in the rec hall, waiting for the cop guys to do whatever they had to do out there. Nell yawned, suppressing a little peep.

  They can’t make us read all day, Maeve thought, though it had sort of been how the day had gone. Reading and waiting. Stuck in the rec room so long, some of the students had nodded off, and for once the teachers didn’t seem to care. But Maeve didn’t want to sleep, not with Ethan nearby. With her luck, she’d doze off and snore up a storm or drool on her books. She needed Ethan to see her in the best possible light if she was going to get him back. She snapped the bracelet again—a fat rubber band, really—and then let her fingertips smooth up toward her elbow, bumping along the ridges of scars that lined her arms. On bad days she used to pick and scratch, try to make them bleed, but not anymore. Ever since the day she’d kissed Ethan after he’d helped her cart her kayak to the water, that fall day when diamonds danced on the lake and the sun still had the power to warm through her clothes, she had vowed to stop cutting. A guy like Ethan didn’t want a girl with bloody speed bumps covering her arms. She had promised herself never to cut again and actually started applying vitamin E to the scars, because her doctor said that would help them heal.

  She dreamed of the day when she and Ethan would get out of here, when they would have the freedom to go to college together, maybe get their own place. Of course, she had to make him love her again, but it was going to happen. She was sure of it. Looking down at the stack of books in front of her, she picked up the fat Shakespeare volume she’d checked out of the library and opened it to Romeo and Juliet. Now, there was a love. Someday, Ethan would want her with the same passion and intensity. Someday, they’d be free of slutty girls like Shaylee Stillman. Girls who got off on stealing away other girls’ boyfriends.

  Now that the fight was over and the three kids had been marched off, Maeve had a better view of Ethan, who sat across the way writing something in a notebook. His head was tipped down, light glinting off his dark hair. He wore a plaid flannel shirt that showed off his shoulders and broad chest, and she thought of the way his arms had felt when they’d kissed, his biceps rounded and tight. He was a solid guy, strong and caring, and she could lose herself in those dark eyes.

  And at that moment, as if he sensed her, Ethan looked up, his gaze searching the room, locking on her.

  Oh, God.

  She gave a halfhearted smile, wishing she were close enough to tell him how sad she felt about Nona, wishing she were close enough to lean on his shoulder and rest in his arms, even if it were only for a brief hug.

  He nodded at her, his expression an enigma. Was there love and support in those dark brown eyes, or was she imagining that because she wanted it so, so much?

  She broke the connection, staring down at the Shakespeare compilation, which was open to the page with a soliloquy she’d memorized for Dean Hammersley’s class. “But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?” Romeo said. “It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun, and kill the envious moon….” She curled her fingers around the edge of the book, letting the binding dig into her fingertips until it was painful.

  Someday, Ethan would love her this way. She would be his sun, and he would kill off envious moons for her. Theirs would be a love like Nona’s and Drew’s—a love that would surpass death. Someday …

  Jules was still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that she and Trent would be working together at the school. The snow was coming down hard now, tiny flakes coating the road, creating a curtain that the headlights had trouble permeating.

  “Okay,” she said, breaking a silence that had lasted for the last two miles. “Since we’re in this thing together, how’re we going to play it?”

  “So the deal is this: You don’t know me; this is the first time we’ve met.” His eyebrows drew together in concentration. “So far, Shaylee hasn’t put two and two together. She told me once that she thought she knew me, but that was a few days ago, and since then she’s dropped it.”

  “I only hope she doesn’t panic in all this and call Edie.”

  “Would she?”

  “Normally no, but now, who knows?” Jules said, not elaborating. Shay was already on Trent’s suspect list; Jules wasn’t going to give him any more ammunition by admitting that her sister was using Nona Vickers’s cell phone. God only knew what conclusions he’d draw from that.

  “I really think you should resign your position,” he said as he checked the rearview mirror.

  “Resign? I haven’t even started yet.”

  “Good. Then you’re not involved.”

  “I want to be involved.”

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “Really?” she mocked. “Thanks for the big tip!”

  “I’m serious, Jules.”

  “So am I! And you’d better start calling me Julia or people will start to wonder.”

  “Oh, for the love of God.” He found a wide spot in the road and pulled over, letting the Jeep idle near the trees. “Look, I don’t have time for games, and I don’t want to worry about you on top of everything else.”

  “So don’t.”

  “Have you heard a word I’ve been saying?”

  “Yeah, I get it. But I’m not leaving.” The windows of the Jeep were fogging, the warm interior much too close. “Look, if I can find out and prove that Blue Rock isn’t what it claims to be, that the administration is covering up what happened to Lauren, that some of its practices border on barbaric, then I have a shot of convincing a judge to move Shay.”

  “Where? To juvie? I’ve read her file. Shaylee’s lucky to be at Blue Rock.”

  “You believe that?” she asked, noticing the wet strands of his hair where the snow had melted. “I don’t think any kid is ‘lucky’ to be here.”

  “Your sister isn’t exactly lily white.”

  “Oh, please. Are any of the kids enrolled here completely innocent?” she demanded, angered by his attitude and the intimacy of this warm, tight Jeep.

  “Of course not.”

  “So these students are no angels. But I know Shaylee’s innocent; she told me about her cap. She told me she’ll be cleared because the school has cameras everywhere, including the dorm rooms, which, I think is damned illegal.”

  Trent rubbed a hand around the back of his neck. “I’m not sure there are cameras. I sure as hell haven’
t seen any tapes.”

  “Would you?”

  “Probably not. I’m not in what I think of as the inner circle.”

  “Which is?”

  “Reverend Lynch and his cohorts, the school deans. They’re all pretty tight—Hammersley, Williams, Burdette—and they’re all women. The second tier is Flannagan, Taggert, and DeMarco, all men, by the way; they don’t seem to be as tied in to the administration.”

  “Where do you fit in?”

  “That’s the trouble, I don’t.”

  “I still can’t see you teaching girls how to shoot hoops.”

  “It’s a challenge,” he admitted, “but, at the time, the PE job was the only one I was qualified for. I would have preferred working with the horses, but Bert Flannagan beat me to it. He’s a piece of work; haven’t figured him out yet. Retired military. DeMarco and Taggert seem to like him. I think they’re attracted to Lynch’s iron-fisted, by-the-rules policy.”

  “And the women?”

  “Burdette and Williams are definitely drinking the reverend’s Kool-Aid, but I can’t get a bead on Rhonda Hammersley; she doesn’t fawn all over Lynch like the others, but she seems earnest.”

  Jules was listening. “You’re sure about the cameras? Shaylee seemed convinced that everything that happens at the school is filmed.”

  “Well, there are some security cameras, of course. They’re mounted on the building entrances and on some of the paths, all pretty visible, but I think the cameras in the rooms might just be part of an urban legend.”

  “Really? A rumor started by someone who wants to keep the kids in line?”

  “Or a student who gets off scaring others.” He glanced into the rearview mirror and frowned. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t know, but there have been cops going up and down this road all day.” He didn’t have to say that neither of them would want to explain why they hadn’t driven directly back to the school. He shoved the Jeep into gear, the tires sliding a little as the tires spun over the crusted piles of ice and snow that had been pushed to the side of the road by a plow.

  They hadn’t driven a mile when the headlights that were bearing down on them closed in, casting the interior of the Jeep in a harsh, white glow. “More police?” Jules asked, glancing over her shoulder at the low beams of the vehicle behind.