Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [44]
What about Lauren Conway? Jules wondered, but managed to hold her tongue. She couldn’t afford to blow her cover before she was hired. If she was hired.
The third testimonial was by a husband and wife team of authors who published self-help books. The covers of You Are What You Believe and The Answer were flashed upon the screen.
He clicked the television off after the infomercial and after pouring a bit of cream and lots of honey into his tea, stirred the concoction and said, “We have had our share of detractors, of course, and though most of the charges are completely unfounded, there have been a couple of black marks—blemishes, if you will—on our reputation.”
Here we go, Jules thought, sipping her black coffee and waiting to hear the spin on the “blemishes.”
“One of our students went missing last fall.” He sighed loudly as he stared into the depths of his teacup, as if he could read the leaves or come up with some answer. “We don’t know why, nor has she been found. Yet. I have my ideas of what happened, but I can’t even begin to speculate. It wouldn’t be fair to her family.”
Translation: The lawyers for Blue Rock Academy advised anyone associated with the institution to clam up.
“I heard about that,” Jules said, realizing that anyone who applied to work at the school would have done his or her research about the institution.
“Then you probably know that the reason we’re looking for a new teacher is that one of ours was accused by a student of taking…liberties. Again, I wouldn’t want to comment on that except to say these two little situations are to be expected, I suppose, people being what they are. But”—he held up a long, judicious finger—“I would remind you that the students we work with aren’t mainstream; they have issues. Problems. The reputation of Blue Rock Academy speaks for itself.” He paused then, cocking his head as if hearing the music for the first time. “Is that Bach?” He closed his eyes and moved his hand as if waving an invisible conductor’s baton in rhythm to the softly flowing notes from the string section.
“Excuse me.” He opened his eyes at the end of the interlude. “Sometimes…Well, music moves me.” Then, straightening, he asked, “How quickly could you take a position with the academy?”
Jules’s heart began to beat a little faster. “The information on the Web site indicated a position was open immediately.”
“And you could do that?”
“Yes,” she said easily. “I could be ready tomorrow.”
“Really?” He looked surprised, and she inwardly kicked herself. She didn’t want to appear too eager or raise any suspicions.
“I could arrange it, yes, though, of course, it would be best to have a few days,” she admitted.
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully; then he checked the wall clock over the fireplace. “I’ll get back to you, Ms. Farentino,” he promised. “Soon. Either way.”
“I appreciate it.” She stood and extended her hand, looking him squarely in the eye. “Your school sounds very interesting. Cuttingedge. A necessity for so many of our disenchanted youth.” The words nearly stuck in her craw with what she knew, but she managed a smile.
One of his eyebrows lifted a bit as he held her hand just a millisecond too long. Did his gaze slip a little, down her neck to her breasts?
A moment later, they were both facing the door, Jules wondering if she had imagined things.
She might have been mistaken.
The interview over, Lynch escorted her to the foyer. Dr. Williams and Burdette waited there with another man, whom Lynch introduced quickly as the pilot for the academy.
Kirk Spurrier shook her hand. Tall, with dark hair and eyes that matched, he was all business. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” she said.
He flashed a smile, then turned to Lynch. “If possible, I’d like to fly back in daylight,” he said.
The reverend nodded curtly. “I think we’re finished here.”
“Thanks for applying to Blue Rock,” Tyeesha Williams said, clasping Jules’s hand in both of hers. Her smile was wide