coming in to work.
He must have heard about her knee.
Feeling anxious, she called to leave Luke a message of her own, knowing Dylan would hate her for ratting him out. She’d promised not to ground him, but she’d never said she wouldn’t tell anyone.
For once, Shay wasn’t hungry, and the shower that should have relaxed her sore muscles only left her tied up in knots. Dry-eyed and damp-haired, she collapsed on top of her unmade bed and buried her head in the pillows, struck by the overwhelming urge to cry. Her relationship with Dylan was in shambles. She missed Jesse, although their “friends with benefits” arrangement had been sporadic and unsatisfying. Her connection to her father was tenuous, worn as thin as the postcards he’d sent.
Getting involved with Luke was just another recipe for heartache.
When the phone rang several hours later, she came awake with a start, surprised she’d drifted off. “Hello?” she mumbled into the receiver.
“Mrs. Phillips? This is Rose from Palomar High School.”
Shay sat up in bed. What had Dylan done now?
“Sheriff Meza has asked to speak with your son-”
“My brother,” she corrected. As many times as she’d been in there, the staff should have been able to remember their relationship correctly.
“Yes, of course, your brother. As his legal guardian, we need you to sign a release.”
Shay blinked at the clock. It was afternoon already. “I’ll be right there,” she said, hanging up and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.
Twenty minutes later, she was in the front office. Dylan, Travis, and Chad were sitting on a wooden bench in the waiting room, wearing identical expressions of affected discontent. Chad was also sporting a dark bruise under his left eye. When he saw her, he gave her a disgustingly thorough once-over. “Hey, Mrs. Phillips.”
Shay wanted to sock him in the other eye. Unlike Rose, Chad knew damned well she wasn’t married, and he liked to annoy her by pretending he thought she was Dylan’s mom. Once she’d overheard him referring to her as a MILF. Needless to say, she wasn’t flattered.
Rose, the receptionist, craned her neck to look over the top of the counter. “If you could just sign here,” she said, tapping the sheet of paper with her fingernail.
From her vantage point, Shay could see Luke and Garrett standing with Principal Fischer in his office. She forced her gaze down to the form in front of her. “Can I be with him during questioning?”
“If you insist. The other parents didn’t.”
Shay signed it and turned to Dylan. “Do you want me to stay?”
He scowled. “Hell, no.”
It was the answer she’d expected, but it still hurt. From Principal Fischer’s office, a rumble of male laughter caught her attention. Logically, she knew the men hadn’t been discussing her, but when she glanced their way, Garrett’s deep-set eyes met hers.
He looked from her to Luke, who was engaged in conversation with Principal Fischer, and arched a brow.
Shay felt the blood drain from her face. Had Luke told Garrett about last night?
Luke turned his attention her way also, as if sensing her discomfort, and Principal Fischer glanced over, too, reading the tension in the room.
Shay was aware of all eyes on her, scrutinizing, criticizing, judging. She hadn’t given a thought to her appearance before she left, but now she regretted showing up in a state of dishabille. The brief shorts and T-shirt she’d been sleeping in were comfortable, but totally inappropriate for the occasion. She couldn’t have felt more self-conscious if she’d been wearing a scarlet letter on her chest.
Tightening her grip on the handbag under her arm, she turned back to Dylan. “I’ll see you after basketball practice.”
Chad regarded Dylan with a self-satisfied smirk. “Why don’t you kiss your mommy good-bye?”
Dylan answered in kind, suggesting Chad do something far more explicit with his own mother. A minor scuffle ensued, after which Principal Fischer threatened to suspend the next boy who moved, and Rose glowered at Shay, as if her moral ambiguity were responsible for Dylan’s bad attitude.
Well, maybe it was.
Feeling tears burning in her eyes, clogging up the back of her throat, she fled the scene. She’d never been more aware of how every mistake she’d made in life, and she’d made a lot of them, affected her brother. God, she was such a screwup. She’d screwed him up, too.
The best she could do for Dylan now was to make sure he got out of Tenaja Falls, as far away from her as he could get.
–
Luke was struck by the absurd temptation to go after Shay, who was visibly shaken, and take her in his arms.
Of course, that would only solidify Garrett’s assumptions. Luke’s deputy knew they’d spent the night together, and although he hadn’t said anything, his smarmy attitude spoke louder than words.
With some difficulty, Luke tore his gaze from Shay’s retreating form, aware that every male in the room, Dylan excluded, was watching her butt jiggle as she hurried away.
Animals.
Luke gave Garrett a cold stare, daring him to make a sexist comment. He wisely refrained.
Principal Fischer cleared his throat. “You can use the meeting room,” he said, ushering them into a small space with a long rectangular table.
Luke wanted to talk with Travis first. He was the smallest, the most nervous, and looked the most likely to cave under pressure. Hopefully, the other two wouldn’t kill each other while they waited.
Luke hadn’t interviewed a teenage boy in a while and he’d forgotten how tiresome it could be. Travis Sanchez stuttered, mumbled, lied, and evaded. Given three different tries, he told three different stories. A criminal mastermind he was not.
Annoyed, Luke dismissed him and called in Dylan. Yesterday the kid had been energetic and open, rattling off the most obscure basketball stats from memory and showing surprising insight into the sport. Today he radiated defiance from the top of his faux-hawk haircut to the frayed cuffs of his baggy jeans.
“Snell,” he said, greeting Garrett with a sneer. He didn’t acknowledge Luke at all.
For some reason, Luke was amused by his surly attitude. “Travis told us you kicked him in the balls,” he said, getting right down to business.
Dylan’s eyes flashed with anger. “Yeah,” he said, obviously lying. “So?”
“Explain how you managed to blacken Chad’s eye and deliver a below-the-belt hit on Travis at the same time.”
Dylan cracked his knuckles. “What can I say? I’m dexterous.”
Luke smothered a smile. “Were you in the front seat or the back?”
Knowing the feat couldn’t be accomplished from either, he shrugged. Luke studied Dylan carefully, wondering what he was missing. Travis had claimed they didn’t meet anyone else at the Graveyard, but Luke knew finding the opposite sex was priority numero uno for most teenage boys.
Luke was struck by a mental image of Fernando Martinez’s eldest daughter. Hadn’t Shay mentioned Dylan when she spoke to the girl? And yesterday, Dylan had complained about not being able to have someone in his room. He’d said a name.
Angel.
On Saturday morning, Luke had overheard Shay arguing with her brother. She’d gone to his room to check in on him and found…
“Angel Martinez,” Luke said.
Dylan jumped a little. “What about her?”
“Was she sitting in the backseat with Travis?”
He narrowed his blue eyes. “Who told you that?”
“Travis,” Luke invented. “He said she was all over him.”
“That’s a goddamned lie.”
“So tell us the truth.”
