Without Mercy (Mercy 1)

After she bundled up against the cold, she set out to explore the campus on her own, trusting that she was safe navigating on her own in the light of day. She tried to memorize the location of buildings and the way paths connected them. A walking trail that cut through the campus led past the barns and into the wooded slopes in one direction and followed the shoreline of the lake in the other. This, she decided, would become her jogging path when the weather broke. If she was here that long.

Right now it was impossible to run due to the icy conditions, but she figured she could work out in the gym, where, according to all the literature she’d read, there was plenty of exercise equipment.

Even if it meant dealing with Cooper Trent.

She had to start thinking of him as an ally rather than an adversary. The heartbreak between them was long over; they both had to deal with the here and now.

No more tripping down memory lane to that summer when she’d first met him. He’d smelled of dust, tobacco, and horses, a three-days growth of beard had shaded his strong jaw, and an irreverent smile that touched his eyes had slowly crept across the lower half of his face. She’d been caught up in the mystique and pure, sexy maleness of him.

“Fool,” she said under her breath, but even so, her stupid heart was racing at the memory.

Forgetting about their time together was easier said than done, Jules decided, and found out she was right a few hours later.

She caught her first glimpse of Trent that day at breakfast when he took a seat at the table with his pod. A glum Shaylee sat next to him, picking at her muffin. Each time Jules glanced Trent’s way, she saw him dealing with his students. She never caught him looking in her direction, which was just as well. Still, that didn’t improve the taste of her oatmeal, fruit, and coffee.

On the other hand, Shaylee nearly stared a hole right through Jules, which wasn’t smart. Jules tried and failed to ignore the plea in her sister’s eyes. It wasn’t that Jules didn’t want to talk to her sister; she simply couldn’t risk it. Not with the faculty and student population of Blue Rock Academy looking on.

Before the meal, Reverend Lynch had given his prerequisite prayer about trusting God for their safety. “Psalms twenty-seven five tells us, ‘For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling, he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock.’”

High upon a rock? Jules mulled that one over, wondering if he’d chosen the Bible quote because the academy was called Blue Rock.

The meal itself was strained, with students and staff still reeling from the attacks on campus, still worried that the killer had not been found.

As students began clearing their plates, Lynch went to the podium again and moved on to housekeeping, breaking down chores by pod. Then, to Jules’s surprise, he called up Shaylee, Lucy Yang, and Eric Rolfe. He asked them to hold hands and “break through the wall of misunderstanding” that had put them at odds.

Jules tried to ignore the snickers that punctuated the room as Lynch placed a hand on each of their heads and led a prayer asking the Lord’s forgiveness for their sins. At the last “Amen,” he insisted everyone in the dining hall link hands and say a kind word to each of the people they were touching.

Just the kind of thing Jules abhorred.

“I’m glad you’re a part of the staff,” Rhonda Hammersley said to her. “We need a few more women.”

Jules, forcing the lie over her lips, responded in kind, that she was happy to be at Blue Rock.

On her other side, Wade Taggert, with his ever-worried expression, told her she was a welcome addition to the school and that he was looking forward to working with her. The whole scene seemed surreal, even scripted. Hoping she sounded a hell of a lot more sincere that she felt, Jules repeated what she’d said to Hammersley. As soon as Taggert dropped her hand, he rubbed nervously at his goatee.

She couldn’t hear what Shaylee, Lucy, and Eric said to each other, but the set of Shay’s jaw didn’t bode well in the forgiveness department, but Jules couldn’t worry about it. Not now.

Even though it was technically the weekend, Jules was busy. First up, she had to complete employment forms for her personnel file. As soon as breakfast ended, Jules headed over to the office in the admin building and located Charla King, Lynch’s secretary, who looked a little like a former beauty queen—very faded and slightly unhappy. With manicured fingernails, Charla pointed out where Jules was to sign on insurance, retirement, and tax forms. The process was tedious, but Jules scanned the documents as she signed them.

“Almost done,” Charla promised, as if reading Jules’s mind. She slid the final form across her desk. “This is about privacy for the school. It ensures that you won’t disclose anything about Blue Rock Academy during your tenure or after you leave us. As you know, we value the privacy of our staff and students.”

Jules’s toes wiggled in her boots as she looked down at the form. This one would be a problem, but what the hell?

Charla smiled as Jules read the short document quickly, then scribbled her name in the appropriate box.

“Perfect.” Charla scooped up all the pages, tapped them on the top of her desk to straighten them, then carefully placed them in a file and locked the slim folder inside one of a bank of file cabinets.

“Okay, then.” Charla dropped the key in her purse, then reached for her wool coat and scarf

. “Let me take you on a quick introductory tour, though the campus is going to be quiet today. All this snow, and our students will be kept inside for the most part. Everyone’s still worried about what happened to those two kids.”

Somehow, Charla’s tone minimized the severity of the situation. Jules shrugged her coat on, grabbed her hat, and followed the woman out into the cold wind.

Animated, the tip of her nose and cheeks turning red, Charla pointed out buildings, paths, and shortcuts, most of which Jules had seen on the map in her room.

“Reverend Lynch runs a tight ship and helps hundreds of troubled kids every year,” Charla said, her breath fogging in the air, as if powered by her faith in the man who was, in her mind, the backbone of Blue Rock Academy.

Jules followed her on the shoveled path, which was quickly being covered by new snow. With more force than had been predicted, the arctic storm was ripping down from Canada, tearing through British Columbia, Washington, Oregon, and even parts of Northern California. News reports indicated that parts of I-5, the lifeline of the western states, were closed. Jules was glad to have made it here yesterday before the blizzard set in.