“Hey, I don’t need this. I’ve already had the interrogation from the cops and some ‘counseling’ from Dr. Williams, so don’t go there with me, okay?” Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Jules and Trent standing so close together. “What is this, some kind of tag team?”
“Hey!” Trent said, but Shaylee was already jogging off toward the dorm.
Jules whirled on him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her voice low, all her pent-up rage and frustration exploding. “Did you really think you could help? I was handling things!”
“Didn’t look that way.”
“She’s my sister,” Jules hissed.
“Not here she isn’t,” Trent fired back. “Remember that. If you insist on playing this charade, then do it right. You don’t know me, and you damned well don’t know her. She’s in my unit, so it’s only right that I would step in, Jules. Get it straight.”
“Look, Shay’s scared to death, and I don’t blame her. You don’t seem able to do much about that, do you? Wasn’t the girl who died, Nona, one of the students in your pod or unit or group or whatever the hell you call it?”
He just stared at her.
“I thought so.” So angry she was shaking, she stepped closer to him. “We can work on this together, or we can fight about it, but don’t tell me how to deal with my sister. I’ve had a hell of a lot more practice at it than you have!”
She noticed a couple of students, prayer books and candles in hand, heading in their direction and decided to end the conversation.
“I’ll see you at the vigil,” she said, forcing a lightness in her voice.
Trent didn’t answer as she turned away and headed to her quarters. Once at Stanton House, she clambered up the stairs and into her room, where she shut the door and leaned hard against it.
Oh, God, what a day!
Her head was throbbing.
What were the chances of having to deal with Cooper again. Holy crap, what a catastrophe.
She rubbed her eyes, thinking of her next move. No matter what tack she decided to take, she knew the wise choice would be to include Cooper Trent.
He used to be a cop.
He’s smart.
God knows he’s brave.
Work with him instead of against him.
“Yeah, right.” She walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, then stared at her reflection as she patted her skin with a towel. Her eyes were still snapping fire, her hair dark and curling with melting snow.
Maybe Shay was right, she thought as she dropped her towel into the sink, then quickly finger-combed her hair and twisted it into a ponytail.
She snapped a rubber band into place. Maybe coming here, taking the job, was a mistake.
But it was too late to change that now. And she couldn’t afford to be late for the vigil, unless she wanted to draw unwanted attention to herself. No, the more invisible she was, the more innocuous-seeming, the better.
She’d somehow gotten through the fifteen-minute meeting with the reverend and his wife, though Cora Sue had simmered throughout her husband’s we’re-all-just-one-big-happy-family conversation, which seemed ridiculous in light of what was going on.
And Lynch bugged her. Jules didn’t consider herself particularly religious, but she had her own feelings about God and had met a few preachers that she really liked, whose faith was secure and solid, not overblown and dramatic. Those youth ministers had a sense of humor, an overflowing wealth of compassion and a deep-seated trust in God.
Those men and women saw people’s foibles and, with care and love, laughter and hope, helped the misguided or forlorn. They prayed and gave sermons, joined baseball teams, and helped in hospitals. They were part of bazaars and golf tournaments and giving of themselves to their community and others worldwide. Within each and every one was a happiness in their faith and a sense of purpose to do God’s will with an easy smile and a strong, helping hand.
Those men and women held deep convictions, and Jules respected them for it. If she were to guess, though she hadn’t had much time with him yet, she thought the younger man, Reverend McAllister, was someone with whom the kids might relate, a minister whose relationship to them wasn’t out of the Dark Ages.
Not so Tobias Lynch, at least from what she’d observed here to date. Granted, things were tough, and maybe her first impression was off or colored by Shaylee’s jaded reactions to anything that happened at the school.
So far, it appeared that Reverend Lynch was always onstage, performing an act. For all his big talk, there was no way he could connect with his students here. It was almost as if the man were from a bygone time and place.