Without Mercy (Mercy 1)

Jules’s fears crystallized. Shay had to be the newest kid enrolled in the school.

“An altercation?”

“It’s all sorted out now. No one was seriously hurt, thank goodness. One of the TAs got out of line, and the new girl, Shaylee Stillman, took care of it with some martial-arts moves.”

“But no one was hurt,”

Jules repeated.

“Just Eric Rolfe’s bruised male ego. Man, she did a number on that.” Hammersley seemed amused. “Shaylee got hit, a deflecting blow, but Nurse Ayres said both of them will live. Another girl was involved. Two girls landing blows in one day. I’ve never seen that in my tenure here. The three students will have to be written up, of course, but we’re giving them more latitude with all the anxiety over Nona’s death.”

Jules breathed a little easier. At least Shay wasn’t hurt. Nor, it seemed, was she in serious trouble.

Hammersley went on to say, “Reverend Lynch has called for a vigil tonight, in the gazebo. He sent apologies; he usually greets new faculty personally, but under the circumstances …” She shrugged. “Anyway, the reverend would like you to stop by his cottage before dinner so that he can escort you to the dining hall. You’ll have a few minutes to talk with students after dinner, before the prayer vigil.” She pointed out the gazebo on a map that was framed and hung on the wall of the living area, then explained about meal procedures, common areas, and ground rules. “Tomorrow morning, Charla King will give you a complete tour of the school and curriculum guidelines, notes, and student rosters for your classes. You’ll have the weekend to prepare a few lesson plans.”

“I’m eager to get started,” Jules said, steeling herself for the coming weeks. On Monday, she was expected to hit the ground running.

“So, what else? Oh, yes!” Hammersley walked to a chair where some items had been placed. “Here’s the schoolissued book bag, backpack, and jacket. It’s a medium. If it doesn’t fit, just talk to Charla King about getting a different size. It seems a little over the top, I know, all the mugs and toothpaste holders and flashlights with the school logo, but it’s just one more way to solidify our sense of community here. We like to show school support as much as possible.” The dean checked her watch and informed Jules that dinner would be served in the cafeteria in forty-five minutes, later than usual, due to the disruption, and that she shouldn’t keep the reverend waiting.

Hammersley hurried away, the heels of her leather boots clicking on the hardwood as Jules closed the door behind her. Disruption, Jules thought. That was the academy’s code word for the death of one student, the near-fatal injury of another? Disruption? Walking to the cathedral window, she stared out at the night. She was willing to bet that last night’s events were more than a disruption to the victims’ families.

Jules washed up, dabbed on another coat of lipstick, and touched up her mascara. Good enough. Throwing on her long coat, she gave herself a mental pep talk; then, after grabbing her Blue Rock monogrammed flashlight, she left her new suite and hurried down the stairs.

She nearly slipped on the icy walkway to the reverend’s cottage, where smoke was curling from the chimney. From a distance, the cottage was quaint, but close up, the building showed its age. The gutters were stained black with mold, and as she climbed the porch steps, she noticed that one of the sidelights was cracked.

“I don’t care, Tobias,” Cora Sue said, her voice escaping through a window that wasn’t quite latched. “It was humiliating. Not even first class. Me, the wife of a revered reverend and doctor. It just wasn’t right.”

Jules paused, her hand raised to knock on the door.

“They were the only seats available, and there aren’t any first-class tickets into Medford. That’s not how it works. The commercial planes are all small. I would have had Kirk fly you in the private plane, but it’s not safe in this—”

“The private plane. The seaplane isn’t exactly a Lear, now, is it? I don’t know why you insisted I come down here; the weather’s supposed to only get worse.”

“Cora Sue, please …”

Jules hesitated, then eased away from the glass so that no one could see her from the inside, though anyone passing would see her lingering on the porch as she eavesdropped.

“Please what? Pretend that everything’s fine?”

“I can’t have this conversation now, not on top of everything else. The staff is nervous, and the students are a mess. We caught some students in a fistfight today.”

“And you’ll probably have more. You know it, Tobias! You’re the one who accepts the students. It’s your decision. Just like it is with all the staff members!”

Jules leaned over, as if retying her bootlaces, just in case anyone could see her.

“It’s my Christian duty to help those who need it most. Try to understand.”

“I’m trying, Tobias, but you just keep punishing me, don’t you?”

“Never.”

Punishing her? For what?

“I would never,” he repeated.

“It’s the look in your eyes. I see you try to disguise it, but I know you, Tobias Lynch, and I see how you watch me. Do you know what it feels like to be treated like a leashed pet, a tethered dog? You trust Esau and Jacob more than you do your own wife!”

“The dogs? Oh, Cora, I can’t do this right now,” he said, his voice stronger.