Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [60]
In the past few days, she’d cleaned out her refrigerator, prepaid her rent, and settled Diablo in with her neighbor, Mrs. Dixon, who’d been delighted—actually clapping her hands—at the prospect of caring for her favorite cat. Jules had also squared things with Tony and Dora at the 101, left messages with Gerri and Erin that she would be “out of town” for a while, then offered up a flimsy excuse to Edie about a possible teaching job in Northern California.
Now, with her head throbbing, Jules had to look ahead to her ultimate goal. If Blue Rock Academy was all it was cracked up to be, then fine, Shay would have to do her time. But, if Jules’s suspicions that the school wasn’t the shining institution for youth it claimed to be, then Jules intended to spring her sister and let the whole world see the academy for the sham it was.
Edie would have to deal with her daughter and find Shay a day facility. Or, if that didn’t work, Shay would have to swallow her considerable pride and attitude and live with Jules.
As the miles sped away, doubts assailed her.
What if you’re wrong? What if everything down at Blue Rock is totally on the level? What if you’re, as your ex so often said, an alarmist, a person looking for a good conspiracy?
“I’m not,” she said aloud as the radio station she’d picked up around Eugene started to fade. Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl,” part of the station’s playlist from “the eighties biggest hits” was rapidly being replaced by crackling static.
She hit the SCAN button and heard the remnants of an old Waylon Jennings and Willie Nelson tune about mamas not letting their babies grow up to become cowboys.
In her mind’s eye, she saw Cooper Trent’s rugged face: crow’s-feet fanning out from deep-set eyes that shifted from green to gold in the sunlight. Straight hair, forever mussed, streaked by hours in the sun. A nose that had been broken more than once and a jaw that could be set so hard a pit bull would be envious. Not Hollywood handsome by any means, but strong and sexy and a major pain in the rear.
“Damn it!” She clicked off the radio. “Go away,” she muttered, not allowing her mind to linger on that son of a bitch. What had she been thinking, falling in love with a bull rider and, as it turned out, a bullshitter? What was the saying? When the going gets tough, the tough get going. Yeah, well, that’s the way it had been with Trent, and she was ticked at herself for even having the tiniest thought of him.
“A long, long time ago,” she reminded herself, and flipped on her wipers. Rain mixed with snow had begun to fall.
She didn’t have a GPS, so she was using a map she’d pulled off the Internet. So far, the trip had been easy: Drive onto I-5 and head south for over four hundred miles. But now things were getting a little dicier, as snow was beginning to fall, fat flakes skittering over her windshield and gathering along the edges of the highway.
Great, just great.
She slowed down, though fifty felt like a crawl. With relief, she saw the sign to exit the interstate. She turned off the expressway onto a county highway, a narrow road that traveled a serpentine path through steep canyons. Her knuckles ached from gripping the steering wheel. The small towns wedged into the hills were little more than four-way stops in the road. Such a deserted, lonely stretch of road, now white with snow.
Her cell beeped from its spot in the unused cup holder. She answered but kept one wary eye on the road. “Hello?”
“Ms. Farentino?” a vaguely familiar voice asked. “This is Dr. Hammersley of Blue Rock Academy.”
Jules’s heart sank. The school had figured out that she was a fraud, and the dean was calling to say they would not be hiring her.
Hammersley went on. “I’m afraid I have some disturbing news.”
Oh, God. As the windshield wipers slapped the snow away, Jules looked for a place to pull over, but the road was too narrow, no wide spots or driveways allowing her a space to park. “What is it?”
“There’s been