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“You and the cowboy? Really?”
“Looks like.” Jules hazarded a glance at Trent. No man on earth had the right to appear so damned sexy, especially after the hellish night they’d just endured. Quickly Jules unlocked Shay’s wrists. “How about that?”
“Yeah,” Shay said rubbing her wrists and managing a fake, unhappy grin, “How about that?”
Jules hugged her fiercely. The sky was lightening rapidly now, the sun chasing away the stars and reflecting on the churned snow. “God, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.”
“I was afraid … really scared that they had …” She swallowed hard, the words hard to say. “I mean I thought they might have killed you, too. When I saw Maeve I was sure there were others and you …” Jules blinked hard, tears burning her eyes.
“Hey. I’m okay.” Shay said. “But I told you this place was sick and twisted. You get it now, right? So why don’t we get the hell out of here? Take me home.”
“As soon as I can,” she promised, swallowing the lump in her throat. “As soon as I can.”
Shay was nodding to herself, the aftereffects of being held at gunpoint, in fear for her life, taking hold. “Good. That’s good. I have to get out of here. Hey, why don’t you give me those,” she said, indicating the small key that unlocked the cuffs. “I’ll spring Nell.”
“Sure.” Jules handed her the keys.
“First things first, though.” Shay marched up to a whimpering Missy Albright, pulled a pair of handcuffs from Tim Takasumi’s hands and clipped the cuffs on the taller girl herself. “Serves you right, you bitch!” Shay said, giving Missy a push, then catching her by the pockets.
“That’s enough!” Meeker ordered and Shay, fists clenched, grudgingly backed away.
“I hope you get what you deserve,” she said to Missy, then took off after Nell as Trent draped an arm over Jules’s shoulder and hugged her close. “Once a rebel,” he said, watching Shay, “always a rebel.”
“Are you talking about Shay?” Jules asked. “Or yourself?”
He smiled. “Both.” Then he kissed her forehead.
CHAPTER 45
Hours later, Jules relaxed a little. She and Trent had ende
d up in the school’s cafeteria where they were drinking coffee while still trying to figure out some of the loose ends that hadn’t yet made sense.
At least her sister was safe.
Shay, along with Nell Cousineau, had been taken to the clinic to be checked for injuries by Nurse Ayres. Afterward they were to meet with their counselors to help them sort through their war-torn emotions and the trauma of being held hostage, their lives continuously threatened.
As far as Jules knew, Shay seemed to be handling the situation, at least outwardly, for the moment. Nell, however, was an emotional wreck, might be scarred forever, and was under the watchful eye of Rhonda Hammersley until her parents could arrive.
Meeker, with the help of Flannagan, Taggert, and Burdette, had locked the offenders in the clinic, the new makeshift jail. Ayres helped with the wounds. Eric Rolfe was dead, Roberto Ortega clinging tenaciously to life, Spurrier fast slipping away, the leader no more.
Earlier, from her suite at Stanton House, Jules had watched as a sheriff’s helicopter was able to land long before the roads were cleared. Detectives Baines and Jalinsky had already taken both Trent’s and her statements and were in the process of interrogating Spurrier’s followers. The sheriff and a few deputies, who had arrived via helicopter, were talking to the students, taking statements one by one in a long, grinding process.
Through it all, while the detectives were going over the crime scenes of the stable, clinic, campus lawn, and retrofitted fallout shelter, Jules and Trent had pieced together what had happened.
It was unthinkable, really, Jules thought now as she took a swallow of tepid coffee. She’d been blown away to learn that Kirk Spurrier, the pilot and sometimes teacher, had put into action a plan to take over the school. In his deluded vision of the world, he’d seen his control of Blue Rock Academy as the ultimate revenge against Reverend Tobias Lynch and his mouse of a wife, Cora Sue. Spurrier’s plans had been more far-reaching, though, according to some of the TAs who were talking. The academy was just a stepping stone for a far bigger area of influence that included other schools where he would gather his flock of fanatics. He’d seen himself as a true crusader, one who would eventually lead a huge congregation as a televangelist with political influence.
Jules reached for the pot of coffee on the table and refilled her cup. Trent was looking through the windows, his good arm draped over her shoulder. He, too, seemed lost in thought, his coffee forgotten.
Jules lifted the pot and he nodded, so she topped off his cup and thought of the TAs who had become Spurrier’s followers. The police were still sifting through all the members of the program, talking to Lynch and those they knew about, trying to determine how deep was Spurrier’s influence.
His inner circle of Rolfe, Bernsen, Albright, and Ortega had been told most of his plans. Bernsen and Albright, the remaining inner-circle members who were still conscious, had reluctantly told of Spurrier’s mission, though they’d vehemently denied any part of the killings of Drew Prescott, Nona Vickers, and Maeve Mancuso.
They wouldn’t budge on that issue—their beloved leader was not a killer! However, they did claim that Spurrier had worried that there was a “rogue” in their midst. Missy was convinced that Eric Rolfe was the killer as he was always pulling at the bit, anxious for bloodshed, pushing Spurrier to become more violent.
Who knew?
