“What happened?” Sin exhaled.
“The next day, I went to the coach and told him that the girl had been sober all night. I told him that she was telling the truth.”
Troy shook his head.
“And?”
“And he told me to keep my mouth shut if I wanted to start next year. He told me that it would all pass over and that the newspapers and authorities were on the players side.
“I left there disgusted. I saw a couple of my teammates reading the paper and laughing. I grabbed the paper and skimmed the article. The reporter painted the girl as a tramp who came on to the guys and as someone who did this sort of thing all the time. It made me sick. I ripped up the paper and threw it at my ‘friends.’ As I walked the campus, I saw a bunch of news trucks outside one of the female dorms. In the middle of the reporters, I saw the girl. Her face was bruised—she looked like hell. But . . . the amazing thing was she held her head high and when she was asked for her statement, she told the reporters that she planned on following through with her charges and hoped that someone who had been at that party would step up and tell the truth.
“Some of the reporters actually laughed when she was finished.”
Troy turned the key and shut off the engine. He stepped out of the truck and Sin did the same.
He started walking toward the church as Sin grabbed him by the arm. “You don’t think you’re stopping there, do you? What happened?”
“I went to the police and told them the truth.” Troy took a deep breath and spoke a bit faster. “The drug tox screen came back showing Rohypnol in her system, she was cleared, four of my teammates were found guilty, I was ostracized, quit the team, and left school.”
Sin stopped walking and pulled Troy to a stop. “I appreciate the story, and I’m impressed that you stood up for that poor girl, but what does any of that have to do with your relationship with my dad?”
“I had a lot of time for reflection after I left school. I started thinking about all the shit we gave you and how we weren’t any better than the players who actually raped that girl. I went to your dad and told him the truth. I apologized and told him that if I ever had the chance, I would tell you to your face.”
Sin kicked the shell-rock with the toe of her boot. “What did my dad say?”
“Nothing.” Troy smiled. “He just swung and punched my lights out.”
Sin grabbed him by the arm and walked toward the church. “You suck at apologies, but apology accepted.”
Troy chuckled as he hip-checked Sin.
His laugh was short lived as they were greeted at the door by Bubba and Joey.
The two were dressed in suits and ties as they handed out bulletins and held the door for everyone entering.
Bubba scrunched up his nose, but before he could make some crude comment about Sin, she beat him to it. “You can dress up shit, but it still smells the same,” she said as she flicked Bubba’s tie and took the bulletin from his hand.
Troy pulled Sin inside before any other barbs could be thrown.
Sin stopped at the second to last row and sat down. She wanted to be able to see everyone as they walked in and out.
She half-heartedly listened to Heap conduct the service and had to restrain herself when he started talking about all the prosperity that had come to the Lower Keys since his arrival. He made indirect reference to the point that it would continue as long as the people continued to tithe and put God first.
At the end of the service, Troy stood up to leave, but Sin pulled him back down. “Let’s sit until everyone leaves,” she mumbled.
The last people to walk down the aisle were Jeremiah Heap and his wife.
Sin drew in a silent breath when she saw her. She felt she somehow knew her, yet she couldn’t remember ever meeting her.
Heap stopped in front of Sin and Troy. “I’m glad to see that you accepted my invitation and came to worship the Lord,” Heap drawled.
Sin sensed that his slime factor was ten times higher than usual.
His wife stood by his side dressed in a very provincial manner and stared at the ground. As Heap spoke, Sin kept glancing at her.
Her eyes are so familiar. Sin glanced at her face and did a double take, I don’t forget much, and I don’t remember ever meeting her, but there is no mistaking those eyes.
Sin interrupted Heap in the middle of some diatribe and said, “I haven’t had the privilege of meeting your wife.” She stuck out her hand and said, “It’s nice to meet you—”
His wife looked at Sin’s hand and then directly at her for the first time. “Maggie,” she said in a heavy Louisiana accent. “I apologize for my husband’s lack of manners.”
Sin shook her white-gloved hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Heap. Maybe we can have a cup of coffee some time.”
Sin watched as Maggie’s eyes sparkled, almost in a mischievous way.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” Mrs. Heap answered. She then addressed her husband, pulling on his arm, “Come dear, we have many others to say hello to.”
Heap puffed out his chest and flattened his white tie against his white shirt. Before leaving, he looked at Sin as if inspecting her and said,
