sister's motionless body and all that blood.
Emily Wallace had been rushed to the hospital. Shock or something like that. But her father had been right there in the room with the cops and Principal Call. Troy would never forget how the men in the room, including his own father and the chief, had cried.
Troy hadn't cried. Not then anyway. He'd just wanted to know where Austin was. He'd wanted to hurt Austin.
But Austin had already been taken to jail.
The county coroner took Heather away in a big, black body bag that night. It was the last time Troy had seen his sister until the funeral nearly a week later. As her coffin was lowered into the ground, he'd made a promise. Clint Austin would get what was coming to him.
Troy turned toward his friend. "I'll tell you what we do next. We make sure Austin knows we mean business."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pine Bluff High School
Wednesday, July 17, 7:50 a.m.
Yesterday's surveillance of Austin had yielded absolutely nothing useful to Emily. The parole officer, Lee Brady, had provided her with as much information as he was allowed to give regarding the parameters of Austin's parole, but what she'd learned hadn't proved as helpful as she'd hoped.
Emily parked near the football field on school property and powered her window down to permit the meager breeze to filter into her car. The temperature was sweltering already. She'd narrowly missed running into her mother before she got away this morning. Avoiding her parents as much as possible was necessary. Leave early; stay out late. Cut way down on the friction and kept clear of the zones .
She could think here. This was the last place where she'd had a life and friends... felt safe. Plus, she wanted to talk to Principal Call. She hated, hated, hated that she couldn't put the niggling thought out of her head, but she simply couldn't. Jesse Lambert, the chairwoman of the parole board, had brought up the lack of tangible evidence used in the trial, succeeding in forcing Emily to play over and over what she remembered about that night. She knew beyond all doubt what had happened. She was there. No question about what she had witnessed. And yet some stupid part of her just wouldn't let the insensitive statements made in that hearing go. She refused to admit for a second that anything Austin had said played a part in her decision to come here this morning.
Your efforts would be much better spent , Miss Wallace, trying to find out who else was in your room that night and whether or not it was really you they were after .
Emily banished the sound of Clint Austin's voice from her head. She would not let him intrude. His suggestion was completely unfounded. Who would have wanted to hurt Heather? Austin just wanted her second-guessing herself, to get her off his back maybe.
Unfortunately, like Jesse Lambert, Austin had succeeded with the former.
While Emily waited for eight o'clock to roll around, she pulled the steno pad from her purse and fished for a pen. She considered the conditions of parole she had listed from easiest to violate all the way to the most difficult. According to Brady, more parolees than ever were being hustled back to prison for violations. That was the one thing she'd learned that had given her hope. All she had to do was be vigilant about monitoring Austin's activities and catch him in the act. Maybe her continued surveillance would goad him into making a mistake. The sooner the better.
A lot of the conditions of Austin's parole were fairly general. He was required to obey all laws, absolutely no drug or alcohol use. No travel outside Jackson County without express permission. He couldn't own any weapons. And he was supposed to sign up for counseling sessions. She didn't see the latter happening. She made a note to follow up on that one.
Her pen stilled as a dozen girls ran out onto the football field. She should have remembered that cheer practice didn't
stop just because the school year ended. She and
Emily Wallace had been rushed to the hospital. Shock or something like that. But her father had been right there in the room with the cops and Principal Call. Troy would never forget how the men in the room, including his own father and the chief, had cried.
Troy hadn't cried. Not then anyway. He'd just wanted to know where Austin was. He'd wanted to hurt Austin.
But Austin had already been taken to jail.
The county coroner took Heather away in a big, black body bag that night. It was the last time Troy had seen his sister until the funeral nearly a week later. As her coffin was lowered into the ground, he'd made a promise. Clint Austin would get what was coming to him.
Troy turned toward his friend. "I'll tell you what we do next. We make sure Austin knows we mean business."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Pine Bluff High School
Wednesday, July 17, 7:50 a.m.
Yesterday's surveillance of Austin had yielded absolutely nothing useful to Emily. The parole officer, Lee Brady, had provided her with as much information as he was allowed to give regarding the parameters of Austin's parole, but what she'd learned hadn't proved as helpful as she'd hoped.
Emily parked near the football field on school property and powered her window down to permit the meager breeze to filter into her car. The temperature was sweltering already. She'd narrowly missed running into her mother before she got away this morning. Avoiding her parents as much as possible was necessary. Leave early; stay out late. Cut way down on the friction and kept clear of the zones .
She could think here. This was the last place where she'd had a life and friends... felt safe. Plus, she wanted to talk to Principal Call. She hated, hated, hated that she couldn't put the niggling thought out of her head, but she simply couldn't. Jesse Lambert, the chairwoman of the parole board, had brought up the lack of tangible evidence used in the trial, succeeding in forcing Emily to play over and over what she remembered about that night. She knew beyond all doubt what had happened. She was there. No question about what she had witnessed. And yet some stupid part of her just wouldn't let the insensitive statements made in that hearing go. She refused to admit for a second that anything Austin had said played a part in her decision to come here this morning.
Your efforts would be much better spent , Miss Wallace, trying to find out who else was in your room that night and whether or not it was really you they were after .
Emily banished the sound of Clint Austin's voice from her head. She would not let him intrude. His suggestion was completely unfounded. Who would have wanted to hurt Heather? Austin just wanted her second-guessing herself, to get her off his back maybe.
Unfortunately, like Jesse Lambert, Austin had succeeded with the former.
While Emily waited for eight o'clock to roll around, she pulled the steno pad from her purse and fished for a pen. She considered the conditions of parole she had listed from easiest to violate all the way to the most difficult. According to Brady, more parolees than ever were being hustled back to prison for violations. That was the one thing she'd learned that had given her hope. All she had to do was be vigilant about monitoring Austin's activities and catch him in the act. Maybe her continued surveillance would goad him into making a mistake. The sooner the better.
A lot of the conditions of Austin's parole were fairly general. He was required to obey all laws, absolutely no drug or alcohol use. No travel outside Jackson County without express permission. He couldn't own any weapons. And he was supposed to sign up for counseling sessions. She didn't see the latter happening. She made a note to follow up on that one.
Her pen stilled as a dozen girls ran out onto the football field. She should have remembered that cheer practice didn't
stop just because the school year ended. She and
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