34
I SIT in my truck for hours combing through the box. There’s nothing of real interest, just a bunch of knickknacks and half-used toiletry items. But I can’t stop staring at the photo of Mrs. Wilkerson. The Lucite cross around her throat. I plead the blood is usually said when praying over someone tormented by demons. I wonder if Mrs. Wilkerson was afraid of Miss Granger in the end, like my dad was afraid of me? And what’s the connection between Miss Granger and Lee Wiggins? Why were his initials in our family Bible and all over our ledgers? If my dad was buying meth from Lee, would he seriously be recording it in the bank ledger? I thought going over to Oakmoor would give me the answers I was looking for, but I only ended up with more questions.
When I hear the bell ring for fifth period, I take the box and head over to Miss Granger’s office. I keep my head low, moving through the crowd with precision.
Everything I need to say, everything I need to talk to her about has been building inside of me. I burst into her office without even knocking.
“I don’t know what your deal is, but you need to come clean. You’re ignoring my calls and something’s going on … with you … with them … or with me … but the dreams are getting worse and—”
“Clay?” Miss Granger flashes a tense smile. “I believe you know Sheriff Ely and Deputy Tilford.”
I follow her gaze to see Sheriff sitting in my chair, Deputy Tilford leaning against the back wall.
“What’s this about a dream, Clay?” Sheriff asks.
“Nothing really.” I clench the box to my chest.
His eyes flash like he’s just caught me in a lie. “I was just telling Miss Granger here how surprised I was to see you at church on Sunday.” He leans forward, the worn leather of his cowboy boots creaking. “Haven’t been in over a year. Why the sudden religion?”
“Just trying to take your advice.” I force a smile. “Put it all behind me.” I can tell by the way he’s looking at me that he knows something’s up. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold him off.
“And now I hear you’ve been palling around with Tyler Neely and the rest of the Preservation Society kids. That’s nice, I suppose.” He puffs out his bottom lip like it’s full of chew. “Ridin’ bulls, huh?”
“Just blowing off a little steam.”
“That’s funny.” His eyes narrow on me. “Tyler said the exact same thing to me this morning.”
“Oh yeah?”
“It’s a shame about what happened out there at the fairgrounds.”
“Meanest bull in the tristate area. Worth a lot of money,” Tilford adds.
“What’re you talking about?”
“Haven’t you heard?” Sheriff adjusts his hat. “Didn’t your new buddies tell you? Someone went out there last night and slit that bull’s throat.”
“He’s dead?” I whisper, feeling the floor buckle beneath me. My dream. I can’t get that image of Tyler out of my head. Look, I can make him kneel, too. I humiliated him out there and he wanted to make me pay. I’m so angry, I can hardly breathe.
“Tyler said something strange happened out there in the ring. Said you put a knife to that bull’s throat. Said you were having some kind of flashback.”
“I cut the rope loose. That’s all. Ask the others.”
“Yep. They all backed up your story.” Sheriff pinches the bridge of his nose. “But I’m thinking maybe you had unfinished business with that bull.”
“You’re thinking wrong.” I feel a trickle of sweat running down my temple.
“Sheriff”—Deputy Tilford steps forward—“are you seriously going to listen to this—”
“So let me get this straight.” Sheriff holds up his hand, signaling for Tilford to back off. “In the past few days you’ve joined the council, returned to church. Next thing I know you’ll be suiting up again.”
It gives me an idea. I know I said I’d never step on that field again, but Tyler’s trying to set me up for all this and I’m not going down without a fight.
“As a matter of fact, I’m late for practice now,” I say as I dump the box from Oakmoor on Miss Granger’s desk. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”
Miss Granger eyes the box on her desk, her thin eyebrows pulling together.
“Am I excused?” I look to her and then Sheriff Ely. “You wouldn’t want to keep me from football, now would you?”
“’Course not.” Sheriff seems mildly amused.
Deputy Tilford looks like he’s about to blow a gasket. “But—”
Sheriff shakes him off.
Miss Granger gives me a quick nod as she twists the Lucite cross around her neck, but she can’t keep her eyes off the box. Off the photo of Mrs. Wilkerson.
“Oh and Clay?” Sheriff Ely calls out. He’s got a smile on his face, but I can feel his eyes digging into me like razor blades. “We’ll be watching you out there.”
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