Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [138]
Trent kicked out a chair and placed the carrier on it, allowing Jules to sort through the charred remnants of Lynch’s private documents.
“Cozy,” she remarked as he double-checked that all the shades were drawn.
“That’s one word to describe it.” He almost smiled, relaxing a bit as he fiddled with the thermostat again while Jules willed the warmer air to heat the chill in the marrow of her bones. Slowly she started to thaw.
As Trent worked on the fire, Jules tackled the files. Her jacket was bulky, so she stripped it off and tossed it over the back of one of the dining chairs. Warm air was humming through the air vents, chasing away the cold.
She began working by separating out the pages that weren’t totally destroyed, placing them in some kind of order. The files that were intact were easy. Other loose pages were singed and blackened, some falling to pieces when she touched them. That part of the job was tedious, those fragile pages taking much longer to sort.
“Find anything?” he asked, looking over his shoulder as he knelt at the fireplace.
“Don’t know yet.”
He tossed thick lengths of oak from a stack that filled a metal carrier, which was identical to the one she’d stolen from Lynch’s office—apparently standard issue here at Blue Rock. The wood caught quickly, the fire beginning to pop and crackle against the mossy oak. Soon the smell of wood smoke mingled with the tantalizing aroma of hot coffee.
Trent brought her a steaming mug as she sorted the pages, but she was suddenly not interested in the coffee, not when she was starting to see a pattern emerge.
At first she wasn’t certain.
Surely not…
But as she worked, she became more and more certain she was right, and if she was, then evil truly reigned at Blue Rock Academy.
All of the Leader’s worst fears were confirmed.
He stood in the shadows outside Cooper Trent’s cabin and knew that he and Julia Farentino were inside. He’d caught them together, Trent chasing her down, Julia running as she carried what looked like a heavy basket. Only metal. It had glinted a bit, catching in the light of a lamppost she’d tried to avoid. But he’d seen it, that little metallic flash.
What was it?
And why was she carrying it to Trent’s bungalow?
Whatever was going on, it wasn’t good. Wasn’t planned.
Worry tangled his insides.
The Leader had observed the way Trent had taken the crook of her elbow in a proprietorial fashion, shepherding her toward his cottage. He’d noticed how they huddled close, as if they’d known each other a long time, even though she’d been at the academy only a few days.
But Trent had called her cell phone, had her private number.
The Leader had listened to his message.
It had been curt and professional, just a quick, “This is Cooper Trent, Ms. Farentino. Would you please call me as soon as possible?” Trent had left his number, as if Julia didn’t already have it in her memory, and certainly it wasn’t an entry on the contact list of her cell.
The message had bothered the Leader, like an itch under his skin that he couldn’t quite scratch. He’d told himself not to think too much about it. He had bigger things to worry about.
Now, of course, he’d changed his mind.
From his hiding spot in a copse of redwood and madrone, he observed the snug little cottage. There hadn’t been much to witness, just Trent squinting into the darkness as he’d drawn the shades and the smell of wood smoke from a fire. Lights glowed from within. Shadows played upon the shades, fuzzy silhouettes that moved but offered him little in the way of knowing what was going on within the walls of the cabin.
Whatever it was, he had to stop it.
Tonight.
CHAPTER 35
Jules couldn’t believe her eyes.
Was it possible?
Was Reverend Lynch—a man of God who always portrayed himself