Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [127]
Face it, Jules, the reason you’re worried is that you saw your name and Trent’s picture. You’re thinking Lynch is putting two and two together.
No matter what, she was not about to second-guess herself now. She made a beeline toward the chapel, only pausing to double-check Lynch’s cabin with its windows glowing bright. “Stay there,” she muttered as the wind stole the breath from her lips and icy flakes of snow melted against her face.
Gaze skating over the frozen landscape, ears straining to hear even the slightest sound of a footstep behind her, she hurried to the main doors and reached for the handle.
“Ms. Farentino?” a male voice asked, and she literally jumped, spinning to face two large men, both dressed in ski jackets, hats, and masks. She clutched her chest, her heart exploding in fear.
“Julia?” One of the men peeled back his ski mask—Wade Taggert, one of the psychology instructors.
Damn!
Her gloved fingers tightened over her flashlight.
“Where’s your partner?” he asked as the second man, too, lifted his mask, and she recognized Tim Takasumi, a TA who, she’d learned, was studying computer engineering.
“Oh, Lord! You scared me!” she said, still nervous. “And, yes, I know I’m supposed to buddy up when I’m out, but I just thought I’d spend some time alone in the chapel.”
Taggert’s eyebrows drew together. “The rule is that no one crosses the campus after dark unaccompanied. It’s for your own good.”
“I know. I’ll just be a few minutes. It’s been a hard first week, and I needed some time alone. I thought I’d light a candle or two.” She offered a wavering smile but didn’t give up her death grip on the flashlight.
Who knew who you could trust?
Taggert, blinking against the storm, seemed to accept her explanation. “You want us to stay with you?” he yelled over the shriek of the wind.
“No, thanks. You have rounds.” She had to raise her voice to be heard, too. “I’ll be fine in here. I’ll just be a few minutes.”
She was afraid Taggert would say they would be willing to wait for her, but his eyes caught a movement by the gazebo. Jules saw it, too.
Someone seated within the latticework decorated with hundreds of tiny lights. “What the—?” He glanced at Jules again. “You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yes.”
Wade hit Takasumi on the arm. “Let’s go.”
They pulled their masks down and took off, half-jogging against the brutal, gusting wind.
Now that they knew she was here, she didn’t have much time. Quickly, heart hammering in her ears, she moved through the nave and to the hallway leading to Reverend Lynch’s office.
She tried the door.
Locked.
Of course.
Damn!
She wasn’t a thief, didn’t know how to pick a lock to save her soul. She could try the outside window, she supposed, but she would run the risk of the security teams seeing her.
Her only hope was the bathroom, one that was accessible from the hallway and from the reverend’s office. She’d caught a glimpse of it earlier and silently prayed that it was open, the connecting door unlocked.
Noiselessly, she slid into the restroom and locked the door behind her; then she tried the connecting door, which opened, of course. The lock was on the inside.
But that was only half the battle. Now there was the file cabinet to break into. She drew the shades down and turned off her flashlight, afraid the vigilant eyes of the new legion of security guards might see the moving illumination and come into the chapel to investigate. After a minute, her eyes grew accustomed to the fading red glow from a dying fire.
She rounded the desk and tried the top drawer.
It was locked tight.
Great. Now what? Snow was melting from her shoes, leaving puddles on the carpet, puddles she hoped would dry before Lynch returned in the morning. Dressed as she was, the chill of the night had worn off, the heat in the office chasing away the cold.
She yanked at her scarf, allowing a little breathing room around her neck, but she didn