Sunken Graves, Alan Lee [all ebook reader .txt] 📗

of justice were grinding a little too slow.”

“Perhaps sometimes,” said Mackenzie, “it takes a good man to give them a shove.”

60

The final bell rang on Monday, dismissing students to afternoon activities.

In the James House admin office, Ms. Nancy gasped and stood when Jennings surprised her and set a vase of roses on her desk.

“Mr. Jennings! You’re back, at last?”

“Happy birthday, Ms. Nancy. And thank you for the help at the party. You made all the difference.”

“You’re the sweetest man, Mr. Jennings.” Ms. Nancy was turning forty-four. She came around the desk. Hugged and surprised him with a kiss on the mouth.

The upper school’s secretary laughed at them. “Better not let Ms. Hathaway catch you!”

Jennings disentangled himself, face burning, and knocked on Dean Gordon’s door.

The dean waved him in.

“Mr. Jennings!” Gordon was smiling, holding a new lease on life. Running without an anchor. “It’s on my to-do list to call you today.”

“I just left the police station, Mr. Gordon. Again. All the charges against me are dropped. I’ll take a drug test right now, if you like, but I’m returning to my classroom tomorrow.”

Gordon stuck his hand out and Jennings shook it.

“Absolutely, Mr. Jennings. That was the purpose of my call. We would be honored. I hope you understand the necessity of my caution.”

“It’s been a tough semester. Mr. Lewis and now Mr. Lynch.”

Gordon nodded. “One for the history books.”

“We’ll get through it.”

“We will. I just read through a generous and optimistic letter from the Academy’s financial backers and they agree with you. The Academy will get through this.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Gordon.”

“See you tomorrow. And Mr. Jennings?” He searched for the right words. A need to acknowledge the awful truth of things Jennings had declared. And a certain curiosity about the Christmas party. But he reached and found nothing, so he said, “I’m glad you’re here. Merry Christmas.”

Mackenzie August knocked on the open door and waited. From inside his chambers, Francis Lynch looked up from his computer and smiled.

“Mr. August. This is a nice surprise. Please come in.” He stood. His black robe was hanging behind him on a hook. “Are you a witness on my docket?”

August was something of a legend to local law enforcement. Even almighty judges sat up straighter when August came in. He stepped inside and closed the door. “Not today. I need fifteen seconds of your time, Your Honor.”

“Certainly.”

August came forward until his thighs were touching the desk. They were both tall, unaccustomed to looking levelly at other men. August was thick with muscle, Francis trim.

August said, “I’m sorry about your family. Your brother.”

“Thank you, Mr. August. That’s—”

“And your father, the chief, I’m sorry about him too.”

A pause. “My father.”

“I know it all, Francis. I know everything, including the visit you paid Daniel Jennings the day of the Christmas party.”

Francis pursed his lips a moment. “Oh?”

“We got a good relationship. A lot of mutual respect. I see it staying that way. But we need to say this out loud…Daniel Jennings and Daisy Hathaway are good kids. They didn’t ask for the mess, they just solved it. If anything happens to either of them, I’m coming for you.”

Francis rocked back on his heels. Didn’t even attempt a response.

“I won’t come at you through the legal system or the justice system. I’ll come in through your window during the night.”

“Good lord, Mackenzie. I doubt—”

“No, we’re done. That’s all we’re saying. Now we part ways and you live a long and prosperous life full of good decisions.” On the way out, August raised a finger like a gun, dropped his thumb. “Sleep well, Judge Lynch.”

Gone.

Francis stood quiet a long time, watching the absence August left in his chambers. The texture of the room’s stillness had changed. It had been a week of shocks for him, and he hadn’t seen this final one coming, a sucker punch.

I know it all, Francis. I know everything.

When he moved, Judge Lynch reached for a phone. Not the landline on his desk, nor the personal cell phone he used every day. He retrieved another cell phone from his jacket, cheap and new, purchased just yesterday. A burner phone, and it was off.

His thumb hovered over the power button. What would he say? It’s like August had read his mind, had known.

Down the hall, voices approached. The noise brought him back, reminded him he stood in a busy courthouse.

He dropped the phone into the pocket of his pants, like a guilty man acting innocent.

Daisy Hathaway jumped at the knock on her classroom door. Frequent visits from Lynch had baked in a Pavlovian dread of that knock, but Lynch was dead and the man in her doorway made her heart flutter.

“You’re here!”

“I’m back at work tomorrow,” said Jennings.

She stood from her desk where she’d been grading English reports. Her left arm was in a pink hard cast. The specifics of that awful night, and their shared survival story, was an intimate glue holding them fast.

“Just in time for holiday madness. The boys are wild,” she said.

“I can handle it. Gladly.”

“You’re right. I think you can. Are you sleeping?”

“Like a baby. You?”

“I…” Sudden emotion checked her words. “I’ll be better after Byron’s funeral on Wednesday.”

“If you aren’t sleeping well, I found a good meal with a friendly face helps. Are you busy tonight?”

She pointed and wrinkled her nose. “Grading these stupid reports.”

“Take a break for dinner. I’m in the mood for Mexican and margaritas.”

“Are you asking me out, Mr. Jennings?”

Jennings tried and failed to keep the smile off his face. “I am.”

“I love Mexican.”

“Then it’s a date,” he said.

“Pick me up? At six?”

“Yes ma’am.”

61

Jennings had claimed his Tacoma from impound and he parked next to Hathaway’s little Lexus, five minutes before six. His dog tags dangled from the mirror.

The last time he felt this nervous hope about a date was his junior prom. He wiped his palms on his pants.

She answered the knock. “You’re early, Daniel.”

“In the military, on time means you’re late.” He saw she was wearing a date-night