SNAPPED (The Slate Brothers 1)

“Don’t worry— my family has a lawyer, and we’ve paid her a boatload of money already. She owes us a pro-bono cease and desist,” I say with a sigh.

The lawyer helping us go after Dennis Slate in civil court for the murder of my aunt is a good person and I know she’ll do me this small favor for me if I ask.

I hug Sarah quickly. “Let me take you back by your apartment, and then I’ll give the lawyer a call, okay?”

Sarah is still trembling, but nods. “Okay, let’s go.”

23

My family’s lawyer, Stephanie, answers my phone call right away— we have her direct line instead of going through her assistant. “Hey, Ashlynn! I assume you’ve heard the news?”

I blink. “Uh— no. What news?”

“They’ve managed to get Dennis Slate arrested, pending a hearing! I’m sure he’ll post bail, but it’s something— he’ll at least get a taste of what the joint feels like. I’m hoping this will convince him to plead guilty and we can avoid a trial entirely. If he pleads guilty to the criminal case, then our civil case should be open and shut.”

“Oh!”

That’s literally all I can think to say— after almost a year of knowing Dennis Slate is free while my aunt is dead, after a year of worry, a year of frustration…Dennis Slate is in jail. He’s actually, really, truly in jail, where he deserves to be.

“I thought you’d be happy,” Stephanie says cheerfully, not realizing that my joy is a bit subdued.

“This is amazing. Thank you. Thank you so much. Does my mom know?”

“Yep, I figured she’d told you. Was there another reason you called?” Stephanie asks, sounding perplexed.

“Oh— yes,” I say, shaking my head. “I wanted a favor, if you don’t mind. I’m going to put you in touch with a girl named Sarah Phillips. She was caught kissing a guy at a party last night, and this lawyer working with the student advocacy group wants to blast it everywhere as a symbol of parties being unsafe for pretty little ladies.”

Stephanie scoffs. “Men. Sure. I can do a little work on it for free— enough to make him shut up, at least. Give me her number.”

I text Stephanie the information, then sit back on my bed. Dennis Slate is in jail.

Part of me wants to fist pump, another part wants to sob.

For my aunt.

But even for Sebastian. It’s not his fault his father is an evil man…

When I leave my room a little later, my roommate Maddy’s looming over the stove, making box macaroni and cheese. The other girls are nowhere in sight, but they probably hit up the dining hall. Maddy grins at me. “So, are you seeing Sebastian tonight too? I hear there’s another New Recruits Week party…and I hear your super amazing roommate Maddy doesn’t have plans…”

“I— I think he might be busy tonight,” I say carefully. Do you go out for a party the night you’re father’s been arrested? Probably not.

“Lame. Tomorrow, then?” Maddy asks hopefully.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I answer, smiling. We sit down and turn on the news. I don’t know why I didn’t see this coming, but we’re only about fifteen minutes into the evening report when Dennis Slate’s photo flashes on screen, and the reporter launches into an explanation of his arrest.

“Holy shit! He got arrested! Did you know?” Maddy asks, turning to me. “Is Sebastian freaking out? Does he know?”

“I didn’t— he might, I’m not sure.”

“Call him! Don’t you think you should call your boyfriend when his dad is freaking arrested? Does he think his dad did it? Like, really?” Maddy asks, a little high off the drama of it all.

“I’ll call him later, I don’t want to bother him—“

“Bother him? Seriously?” Maddy asks, shaking her head and turning back to the television. It’s good she’s no longer looking at me, because my aunt’s face pops up next. Under her, the word victim, typed out even before her name. Victim. That’s all she is, victim.

The reporter reappears on screen. “We’ll provide continuing coverage of the arrest of local hero Dennis Slate as the evening progresses. We have thus far been unavailable to reach his family for comment, though a source outside the family claims they will be posting the million dollar bail later this evening. Slate’s wife still lives in the family home despite frequent media presence there, and his three songs attend universities on football scholarships. Sebastian Slate, the oldest, is rumored to be a top draft pick for this coming NFL season, just as his father was in 1982. Moving on—“

“Wow. Wow. This is insane. Do you guys ever talk about this?” Maddy says, waving at the television. “I mean, it’s got to be all he thinks about.”

“He thinks about it a lot,” I say cautiously. “But I mean, her family must think about it a lot to. His dad is the one that did it— he had a choice. Her family didn’t.”