Justice. Debra Webb
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the years to come. This school was a very special place. Whatever wrongs had been committed here would be righted.
Kayla bypassed Christine’s office and headed straight for the conference room. Thankfully, the board members were just settling down around the long table as she entered the room.
Christine Evans was the first to notice Kayla’s arrival. A former military woman, Christine still had that authoritative bearing, squared shoulders and head held high. Her short gray hair added to her distinguished air. “Kayla.” She met her halfway across the room. Gave her a quick hug. “What brings you here today?” Worry lines marred her brow as she surveyed Kayla’s face. Long ago, a military training accident had left Christine blind in her left eye, but she missed nothing. “Nothing’s happened, I hope.”
After what they’d all been through since Rainy’s death, the worst was the first thing that came to mind for anyone involved. Christine’s expression—and the question—were sincere.
“Kayla.” Allison Gracelyn came up next to Christine before Kayla could respond. Her shoulder-length brown hair was pulled back in a large barrette. “I haven’t seen you since…” Her words drifted off. She didn’t have to say the rest…since the funeral. Allison’s brown eyes reflected the same ache that Kayla felt.
Kayla managed a smile, pressed her cheek to Allison’s in a brief gesture of affection. “It’s good to see you, Allison.”
One by one the members of the board who were present greeted Kayla, made her feel welcome despite the unexpectedness of her appearance. No matter how cordial each was, Kayla could feel the underlying tension simmering in the room.
“I heard about today’s meeting from a friend,” Kayla said, prompted by Vice Principal Rebecca Claussen’s question as to what brought her to the school today. “As a member of law enforcement in Athens,” she took a moment to meet each board member’s gaze, “and a graduate of Athena, I feel a close bond with this school and recent events have raised a number of concerns.”
Now she had everyone’s attention.
Christine paled. Her vice principal, Rebecca, looked every bit as stricken. Her bright hazel eyes stood out in stark contrast to her fair skin and dark, gray-streaked hair.
“Explain what you mean by concerns,” Adam Gracelyn demanded in the judicial tone he’d honed over a lifetime on the Arizona Supreme Court as vice chief justice. His brown eyes bored into Kayla’s, ensuring she understood that he possessed a great deal of power and influence. He would not be intimidated.
Which was not her intent, she argued mentally.
Or was it?
There were secrets here and she knew it. Some she had already learned. Like the fact that a Dr. Carl Bradford had been dismissed around the time Rainy’s eggs were probably mined. Christine had insisted that his dismissal was a result of inappropriate behavior toward Nurse Betsy Stone. Somehow that just didn’t sit right with Kayla.
Kayla doubted she would have any better luck interrogating this group than she’d had with Betsy Stone. Whatever secrets they shared, if any, they intended to keep quiet as long as possible.
But not all were involved in this conspiracy. She hoped.
Could she allow what one or more persons had done to influence her judgment of everyone affiliated with the school? That didn’t seem fair…but what choice did she have? There simply was no way to know who had participated in the evil scheme that had prevented Rainy from bearing her own children.
No one suggested they sit down, so Kayla pushed aside her troubling thoughts and forged onward. “There are still a number of unanswered questions regarding Rainy,” she said bluntly. “And the leads seem to dead-end at the school.”
Christine flared her hands. “We’ve cooperated with your every request. What more would you have us do?”
“This has something to do with that awful Conner woman’s exposé,” Allison countered, her brown eyes every bit as stern as her father, the judge’s. Allison wasn’t actually a board member, just a consultant who flew in from D.C. for certain meetings, but she had every intention of seeing that the school was run as her mother, Marion, the school’s founder, would have wanted. Her motives were good. But how far would she go to protect the school’s reputation?
“In part,” Kayla allowed. “Although I think Tory has the situation under control with her insider stories on the academy. Viewers believe Tory. When she exposed Shannon Conner’s lies for what they were, I’m confident she undid most of the damage.” Tory had also recently gotten the better of Shannon when Shannon had tried to hurt Air Force captain Josie Lockworth’s career with yet another tasteless exposé on Athena students.
“But how can we be sure,” the elder Gracelyn argued. “We have to take a long, hard look at how this kind of negative publicity could affect funding.”
Nods and sounds of agreement went around the room.
“Especially considering that we’re moving into an election year,” Christine added sagely.
“You’re aware,” the judge said to Kayla, “that our funding from the government is at the President’s leisure. Should a new commander-in-chief decide that our work here has outgrown its worth, that funding will vanish in a puff of bureaucratic smoke.”
Kayla knew how much the school depended upon funding. The truth was that the government’s paltry contribution was not nearly enough. Wealthy private donors were the school’s livelihood. Bad publicity could do far-reaching damage. That was one reason the school had always maintained such a low profile. No publicity equated to good publicity was the motto. Don’t draw attention. For weeks Shannon Conner and her twisted accusations had drawn the scorching scrutiny of most of the free world.
Uncertainty lanced Kayla. She hadn’t wanted to believe that Shannon’s stories carried any merit, but when she thought of what had been done to Rainy, doubt crept in.
Had this revered school experimented on its students?
Was there anyone else who’d fallen victim as Rainy had?
Kayla swallowed back the doubt. She wouldn’t believe that. Couldn’t believe it. This situation had to be isolated, involving one or two members of the staff at most. To believe anything else would shake the entire foundation of all she held dear.
“I know you’re all very concerned about the publicity over the past few months, but its novelty has almost worn off,” she said. “Once the fall session started and Tory worked her magic with some positive stories, Athena was scarcely mentioned in the media anymore. I think that’s behind us.” She braced herself for a maelstrom. Her next words would wreak a havoc of their own. “What I don’t think we’ve cleared up is this school’s involvement in what happened to Rainy.”
Rebecca Claussen threw up her hands. “I can’t believe you’re bringing that up again.” She shook her head. “What do we have to say to convince you that whatever happened didn’t happen here?”
“Kayla,” Christine put in, “you know we wouldn’t allow anything like that. How could you even think such a thing?”
The Gracelyns glared at her. No one wanted to discuss the issue. No one wanted to believe. The truth was, no one even wanted to know. They wanted this over and forgotten. Buried.
Hell, Kayla didn’t want to consider the idea either. But it was necessary. As a cop, she could put aside her personal feelings and see that need. But these people weren’t cops. And she was talking about their baby. Everyone in this room had given their all for Athena Academy. Allison’s own mother, the founder, had paid the ultimate sacrifice. She had died here.
That last thought stuck in Kayla’s brain and reverberated for a moment. Marion Gracelyn had been murdered on school grounds a few years back. She was thought to have been a victim of an interrupted burglary. But was that what really happened?
Before any more new conspiracy