Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [9]
And not with fondness.
Nope. Their breakup had been anything but amicable.
Great.
Just. Damned. Great!
Shaylee Stillman was a complication he didn’t need. He left the building and half-jogged to the gym, where his office was nestled on the far side of the locker rooms. He tossed Shaylee’s file onto the desk and flipped it open, and sure enough, Jules’s little sister stared up at him from a photo. He suspected it was a candid shot; the girl’s eyes glimmered with rebellion, anger, and mistrust.
With one eye on the clock, he skimmed through the file, all the while knowing that Shaylee Stillman could blow his cover and damned well ruin everything.
Clicking on the computer’s mouse at her desk, Jules half-listened to the radio while she searched online for information about Blue Rock Academy. Ever since Edie had announced she was shipping Shaylee down to Oregon, Jules had been consumed by the desire to learn everything she could about the school.
Then she heard the commercial. Between songs on the radio came a sincere woman’s voice, a woman at the end of her rope. “I didn’t know what to do,” she lamented. “I was out of options. My daughter was getting into trouble with the law, with drugs, with the wrong crowd, and she wouldn’t listen to me. Her attitude was affecting my marriage and my other children. I thought I had nowhere to turn, but then I learned about Blue Rock Academy, a forward-thinking school that knows how to deal with troubled teens.”
Jules stopped surfing the Net and listened as the testimonial continued. The mother’s voice was stronger now. “So I enrolled my daughter at Blue Rock Academy. Ten months later, she returned with a new attitude, great grades, and a healthy lifestyle. She’s now an honor student on her way to college.” There was just so much pride in the woman’s voice. “Thanks to the caring, intelligent staff members at Blue Rock Academy, I got my daughter back.”
A younger, bright voice chimed in, “And I got my family back. Thanks, Mom. Dad. I love you guys!”
Really?
No way.
Disbelieving, Jules stared at the computer as a serious, deep-timbered announcer gave some information about the institution, including the Web site and phone number. “If your teen is troubled, call Blue Rock Academy. It’s a phone call that could save your marriage, and your child’s life.”
“Oh, give me a break,” Jules said, rolling back her desk chair as music resumed. There was something about the radio spot that felt false, a facade. She thought of Shay, probably already touching down on the campus of the academy tucked into the southern Oregon wilderness.
What was it about the place that bothered her? Why couldn’t she just accept it as the haven for at-risk teens it was touted to be?
She turned back to her keyboard and clicked on a link to the school’s Web site. On Blue Rock Academy’s home page, she viewed pictures of cedar and stone buildings flanking the shores of a pristine lake—Lake Superstition, said the caption. Teens smiled as they canoed through the sapphire water. A large church dominated the landscape. Its windows rose to the high peak of a sharp roofline, and the framework of those glass walls was supported by beams in the shape of a magnificent, three-storied cross. Snow-laden mountains rimmed the campus, their spires sparkling in sunlight.
In a montage of photographs, groups of laughing teenagers were photographed doing a variety of activities: astride horses on wilderness trails, navigating challenging white-water rapids in rafts, pitching tents near glowing fires, or strumming guitars at sing-alongs under the stars. In the winter shots, some students snowshoed while others skied cross-country.
Blue Rock appeared a veritable Eden.
Of course, there were serious shots of earnest teachers leaning over students’ shoulders as they sat in front of computers. Other pictures of teens avidly studying test tubes and peering into microscopes. Still others were seated in a large carpeted pit in front of a massive stone fireplace. The students