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Lynette Eason
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“Catelyn, wait.”

She stopped, turned to find Joseph leaning against a porch pillar, watching her. This time her shiver had nothing to do with anger. She remembered how it had felt to rest her head against his broad shoulder, remembered what it was like to feel secure, safe.

Only to have him push her away. He’d wanted her to shelve her career and become the kind of wife she’d vowed never to be.

A cop’s wife-giving up her career to make him happy.

And yet the attraction between them had sizzled.

“Can we talk?” he asked. “About us.”

“That’s not even a topic,” she said. “There is no us.”

His jaw clenched. “We have to work together. Without letting our past interfere. Can we do that?”

“We can try.”

He reached to grasp her hand in a handshake, and the tingles that danced up her arm told her she was in trouble.

LYNETTE EASON

grew up in Greenville, SC. Her home church, Northgate Baptist, had a tremendous influence on her during her early years. She credits Christian parents and dedicated Sunday School teachers for her acceptance of Christ at the tender age of eight. Even as a young girl, she knew she wanted her life to reflect the love of Jesus.

Lynette attended the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC, then moved to Spartanburg, SC, to attend Converse College, where she obtained her master’s degree in education. During this time, she met the boy next door, Jack Eason—and married him. Jack is the Executive Director of the Sound of Light Ministries. Lynette and Jack have two precious children, Lauryn, eight years old, and Will, who is six. She and Jack are members of New Life Baptist Fellowship Church in Boiling Springs, SC, where Jack serves as the worship leader and Lynette teaches Sunday School to the four- and five-year-olds.

A Silent Fury
Lynette Eason


www.millsandboon.co.uk

Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For evil men will be cut off, but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land.

—Psalms 37:8–9

As always, to Jesus Christ.

You are as good as your Word.

Thanks go out to

My agent! Tamela, you rock. Thank you for your

unwavering support and belief in my writing.

God bless you!

Thanks to Officer Jim Hall with the ACFW Carolina

Christian Writers group for getting all my cop stuff

right. And if something’s not right, it’s my fault!

And once again, I thank my family and friends

for their encouragement and love as I write for the

One who gives me the stories.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Pack it up, Santino, you’ve got a murderer and a missing girl to find. His boss’s words echoed in his mind as Joseph Santino, Special Agent for the FBI, watched the Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport spread out in tiny detail below him. He’d been fine with the assignment until the man had added, “Oh, and you’ll be partnering up with a homicide detective there.” He looked down at his papers. “Catelyn Clark.”

At that point, Joseph wasn’t fine anymore. In fact, he’d done everything to get out of going, short of quitting his job. None of his arguments worked. So, here he was mentally preparing himself to face the one woman he’d never gotten over. The one woman he’d vowed to banish from his thoughts—and failed.

The plane landed, and Joseph grabbed his carry-on, anxious to get this case started so he could get it finished and get back to New York.

An hour and a half later he found himself staring down at the face of a sixteen-year-old girl laid out on the slab in the morgue.


Victim: Tracy Merritt.

Cause of death: blunt-force trauma to the back of the head.

The murder weapon: unknown and still missing.

The suspect: Dylan Carlisle.


Best friend to Joseph’s seventeen-year-old brother, Alonso.

Only the police hadn’t arrested Dylan because they didn’t have enough evidence. Yet. Joseph’s job was to find Kelly Franklin, the dead girl’s best friend who’d been reported missing the day Tracy’s body had been found. It was suspected that they’d been together and Kelly had been forcibly removed from the scene. Most likely, by the killer.

What a mess. Joseph sighed and turned away shaking his head.

His buddy, Victor Shields, captain of criminal investigations within the local police department, willingly offered Joseph his services and resources. Joseph had been a uniformed cop under Victor’s leadership before moving to the FBI. About a year after working in New York, Victor had called him for help. Joseph had responded and found the man’s runaway teenage daughter, bringing her home safely.

Now, business brought Joseph home once again. Only this time, the missing person hit close to home. A student at the Palmetto Deaf School, Kelly was not only Dylan’s girlfriend, but she was also a friend of Alonso, Joseph’s deaf brother.

Joseph’s heart tightened as he thought about his family. Having a deaf brother, mother and sister, Joseph, the eldest of six siblings, had grown up as the protector of the clan. Active in the deaf community, knowledgeable about the tight, small world within their own culture, Joseph knew he was the perfect person for this job. Because he was accepted as part of the deaf world, he could ask questions and get answers where other hearing cops couldn’t. At least not in a timely manner. And with one girl dead and another missing, time was of the essence.

He looked up at Kip Kennedy, the medical examiner, a balding man in his late fifties Joseph had known from his beat cop days. “I’m going to find out who did this to her.”

Kip sighed, shook his head. “I don’t know what this world is coming to. Kids dying, teenagers being snatched. It ain’t right. Unfortunately, the killer didn’t leave his calling card.”

“I want to know everything you find on this girl. I don’t care if you think it’s not important. Okay?”

“Sure. I’ll give you everything. I promise.” He looked down at the girl who’d never smile, never grow up, never have her own family. “It’s the least she deserves, and I’ll do my best to give you the tools to find the one who did this to her.”

Dead kids tied him in knots. Joseph did his best to shut down emotion and focus on the facts. “Thanks, Kip. I appreciate it.”

A young woman in her mid-twenties popped her head in the door. “The Merritt family is here.”

Kip nodded, looked up at Joseph and grimaced, his bald head shining in the overhead fluorescent light. “This is the part I really hate.”

“Yeah.”


Grabbing a lightweight jacket, Detective Catelyn Clark headed back to the Palmetto Deaf School. Tracy Merritt’s body had already been removed from the campus and taken to the morgue. As a homicide detective with the Spartanburg police force, Catelyn had been one of the first on the scene. She’d watched the crime-scene investigators do their job and had pitched in where she could. They’d found a baseball jacket and a flip-flop among other things that may or may not be related to the case. The flip-flop had been identified as belonging to Kelly Franklin, the missing girl.

But still, she wanted to go over the scene one more time. Before the yellow tape was removed and the school went back to normal. Her partner, Ethan O’Hara, was away on vacation with his bride of one year. He’d return home tomorrow, but would still have a couple of days off before returning to work. He’d spend them with his wife, Marianna. The man was so happy, it was disgusting. And incredibly sweet. Longing rose up in her, and she immediately vanquished it.

Only one man had ever tempted her to think about the possibility of matrimony, and she’d gotten burned as a result. Two years ago Joseph Santino had been on the verge of asking her to marry him—and she’d been so close to throwing caution to the wind and saying yes. Then she’d found out his true expectations of what he felt a wife should be and she’d shoved him away with both hands—and he’d left, moved to another state. Which was just as well, she reminded herself. Joseph’s actions had simply reinforced a decision she’d made long ago. She would never marry another officer—tempted though she might have been once upon a time.

Because if there was one thing she was sure about in this life, it was the fact that two cops married to each other simply created a war zone.

Her parents had certainly taught her that.

And why she was even thinking along those lines puzzled her. It must be because her boss had told her who she’d be working this case with: Joseph Santino. Groaning in frustration at her inability to shove her resurrected thoughts about that man from her mind, she desperately focused on the task before her. Find who killed Tracy Merritt and arrest the creep.

Period.

Pulling into the gate, she flashed her badge at security. This school had seen a lot of police action lately. Just a little over a year ago, teacher Marianna O’Hara, Joseph’s deaf sister, had been held hostage in her classroom by a power hungry politician. Thankfully, that situation had ended peacefully.

And now this.

Briefly, Catelyn wondered if she should remove herself from the case. Being the ex-girlfriend of the main FBI agent called in to assist with the case might cause a few raised eyebrows—if they knew.

But that was the past.

She’d worry about him later.

Now, she turned her thoughts to the young man who was the main suspect in the case: Dylan Carlisle. A hotheaded teen who convincingly protested his innocence.

Yeah, right. She’d been up that road before, had the scar to prove it and wasn’t buying it this time around.

Dylan hadn’t been arrested yet, but if the evidence continued to build, she’d have him in jail so fast his head would spin, convincing protests notwithstanding.

At the crime scene, she pulled to a stop and stepped out of the car. The scene had been cleared by the authorities, but not yet cleaned up. Good. She’d have a chance to go over it one more time.

The lone figure standing inside the yellow tape made her pull up and stare. He couldn’t be here already. Surely not. The figure turned and met her gaze.

Yep, it was him.

Sucking in a deep breath, she blew it out slowly, telling herself to calm down. Praying her voice didn’t shake at the sudden shock of seeing him, she said, “Hello, Joseph.”


Joseph stared. He couldn’t help it. It had been two years since he’d seen Catelyn. Even though he’d returned home to visit family during that time, he’d never run into her. She’d made herself scarce during his visits in spite of the fact that she’d stayed friends with his sister Alissa.

But he’d thought about her. Thought about calling, finding her, asking her to clarify what went wrong with their relationship. And each time he thought about it, he pushed the feelings aside, not wanting to put himself back in a place where he could be hurt again. And she had hurt him because she’d seemed to walk away from him without ever making her reasons clear. At the time, he’d been furious with her, confused and pained by her actions—and, he admitted to himself, prideful. So he’d let her have her space and time passed.

But he’d missed her. She’d practically grown up in his house and Joseph had loved her since she’d been a teenager with a chip on her shoulder. She’d fit right in with his family, six brothers and sisters, his mom and dad and a grandmother.

Catelyn had adopted them all and learned the language they’d used most around the house: ASL, American Sign Language.

And now she was even prettier than he remembered. With a glint in her eye that said she wasn’t happy to see him.

Well, too bad. He was here to stay until the end. No matter what it took to find Kelly and put Tracy’s killer behind bars. Even if it meant dealing with Catelyn and old feelings that had never truly died.

“Hello, Catie.”

“Don’t call me that. My name’s Catelyn.”

Nope, she hadn’t changed a bit. Just as contrary as she ever was. “Fine,” he clipped. “Catelyn, what do you think about this case so far? Any new leads on Kelly or Tracy?”

Compassion softened her gaze for a moment. “No, nothing yet. Kelly’s poor family, they’re beside themselves. And her brother, Billy…” She shook her head. “He’s having a hard time. They go to my church and I’ve known them awhile. You never had a chance to meet them as they came after you left.”

He ignored her dig. She’d been the one to send him on his way. His gaze swept the scene again as he wondered how to respond. Then decided not to.

In spite of the fact that the scene had been cleared, he’d slipped blue crime-scene booties over his shoes so as not to disturb anything in the area. He couldn’t help it. He simply couldn’t walk a crime scene without them. He watched as Catelyn went ahead and slipped a pair over her shoes. Apparently she felt the same way.

Attention to detail.

Notice everything; mentally record the scene to pull up later. And write everything down. Good notes were essential. He had no doubt Catelyn’s would be unquestionably precise and detailed.

“Dylan’s jacket was found there,” she offered.

“Where?” Joseph’s head snapped up. Victor hadn’t mentioned anything about a jacket.

She scraped a hand through that silky blond mane that never seemed to stay where she wanted it. He remembered smoothing it down, around her cheeks, his fingers grazing skin so soft, he…

Clearing his throat, he asked, “What was his jacket doing at the crime scene? He doesn’t even go to this school anymore now that he’s playing baseball with Esterman High.”

“I know. We pulled him in for questioning and he claims he met Kelly here, they were walking, she was cold and he gave her his jacket.”

“So how did it wind up on the ground?” He pointed to the marker indicating where the jacket had been found.

“He says he has no idea. That he left his jacket with her and he was going to come back to get it the next day, which would be today. Tracy was found last night. We still haven’t heard anything from Kelly.”

“You don’t believe him.” Joseph stated it as fact, his eyes never leaving her face. If he hadn’t been studying her so intently, he would have missed the brief flicker of regret.

She shrugged, turning back to assess the scene. He wondered if she was just avoiding looking at him. She said, “I don’t know, Joseph. And that’s the truth. I don’t want to think Dylan capable of something like this. Dylan’s aunt is a dispatcher with the department. His mom is a single mother and while his dad’s in the picture, he’s not around much. Dylan’s track record isn’t great, and kids do stupid stuff all the time that turns deadly.” Another shrug. “Who knows? I’m reserving judgment until all the evidence is in.”

“Alonso sent me a text message. Dylan’s a good friend of his, of our family. Alonso firmly believes in his buddy’s innocence and is begging me to prove it.” He blew out a sigh and looked at her. “You’ve already got him tried and found guilty, haven’t you?”

“No.” Her eyes got that glint again, the one that said he was walking a fine line, and she was having trouble holding on to her temper. Not for the first time he thought she should have been a redhead. “I didn’t say that. I said I’m following the evidence.”

“And what if that evidence is all circumstantial and yet still leads back to Dylan?”

“Then I’ll arrest him.”


Catelyn hated the tension between the two of them. Once upon a time, Joseph had been her best friend, her confidante, the only man who’d ever made her seriously think about tossing away her personal rule about never marrying a cop. She turned away from him, walked to the edge of the tape.

His voice came from her right. “What else did they find?”

“A ring with some blood on it.” She kept her words clipped, professional.

“The girl’s or someone else’s?”

“Don’t know yet. It just went into the lab. You know how fast the turnaround time is.” Sarcasm dripped off the words.

Joseph snorted. “Yeah.”

Catelyn came closer, asking the question she’d wondered for the last couple of years—ever since he’d left. “So, how have you been?”

“Good. Just working a lot. New York’s a fascinating city.”

“I’m sure.” Now she was stuck. Backed into that awkward conversational corner, silence stretching, making her itch to escape.

Joseph walked the perimeter, just inside the tape. Bending down, he touched the grass. “There was some kind of scuffle here. The grass is really torn up in this spot. I mean, I know it’s a school with kids everywhere, but this area’s kind of off the beaten path.”

Relieved to be back on a safe topic, she said, “Yes, the crime-scene guys looked it over, got the pictures. No prints, though. The ground’s too hard.”

Glancing at the sky, Joseph lamented, “Could have used the rain that’s coming this afternoon a couple of days ago.”

She walked a few feet outside the tape. Several strategically placed large boulders lined the curving entrance to the school. More were placed under the shade trees near the pasture where students like to gather in the afternoon. Catelyn scanned them and something caught her attention. She leaned down, pulling the small high-powered digital camera from her pocket. She snapped two pictures of the item, then pulled out a glove. Just because something turned up outside the tape, didn’t mean it wasn’t evidence. With a steady hand, she picked it up.

Wood. About two inches wide by six inches long.

Looking around, she spied the trees, a wooden play set off to the left, wooden cedar chips had been spread near the horse pasture. The wooden fence. Wood everywhere. Carefully, she studied the piece. Scanned the wood surrounding her once more. It didn’t really match anything nearby. Possibly the light, wooden play set.

So what was it?

“What have you got?”

“I was just trying to figure that out. It’s a piece of wood, but I don’t know what kind or where it came from. There’s nothing else around here like it. See, it’s smooth on this side, but rough around the edges and underneath.”

He came closer, stood next to her to inspect the piece. She shivered at the proximity and had to concentrate on his words so she wouldn’t think how wonderful it felt to have him near again. He was saying, “Could be part of that play set. They just built it.”

“It’s probably nothing, but…” Catelyn snagged a plastic bag from her pocket, one she’d stuck in there just in case. She dropped the piece into it and moved a couple of inches away. She couldn’t breathe with him that close. It galled her he could still stir her up when she just wanted to forget the anger and hurt he’d left her with two years ago. “I’ll just get this over to the lab. They’ll be able to tell us what kind of wood it is.”

“Sometime in this century, I hope.” He sounded jaded, resigned.

“Ah!”

The guttural cry brought them both around. Alonso, Joseph’s brother stood there with Dylan Carlisle. Joseph took note of Dylan’s clenched fists, ragged breathing and air of desperation. Seeing he had their attention, he signed, “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Tracy!”

TWO

Joseph strode to his brother and the distraught young man. He gripped Dylan’s shoulders and squeezed, hoping to transmit understanding and comfort. Dropping his hands, he signed, “We’re going to find out who did.”

Alonso shifted, anxiety oozing from him. Joseph had sent a text message to his brother to let him know that he had arrived in town and would see him soon, but after his visit to the morgue, Joseph had come straight to the crime scene.

Alonso and Dylan had come to find him. He studied the lanky young suspect in front of him. Frantic blue eyes, blond hair, a smattering of freckles across a sharp nose and pale cheeks. Then Alonso, who was Dylan’s physical opposite. A little shorter with brown eyes and dark skin, he was a younger version of Joseph, their Italian heritage prominently displayed.

A small cut on Dylan’s chin looked angry, red. Alonso had a bit of stubble that had already grown out since this morning. His little brother and his friends were already shaving, growing up. Were grown up, he realized. Dylan was considered a man and old enough to be tried as an adult if convicted of murder. What would that do to Alonso who fervently believed in his friend’s innocence?

Joseph signed, “I believe you. Unless I find solid evidence to the contrary, I believe you. Okay?”

Chest still heaving, Dylan glared back at Joseph, and Joseph flinched at the agony in the boy’s eyes. Either the kid was an excellent actor or he was telling the truth.

Catelyn came up to sign, “You two shouldn’t be here.”

Joseph wanted to tell her to stay away, but she was right, neither of the teens should be here. Wrapping one arm around his brother’s shoulder, and the other around Dylan, he steered them back to the idling vehicle Alonso had left in the middle of the road. With his free hand, Joseph signed, “Let’s go home. Catelyn will take care of this.”

Dylan shot Catelyn one last glare that gradually turned pleading. “Please believe me.”

Compassion flickered briefly before her expression solidified into granite. “I’ll believe the evidence.”

This time Joseph shot her a hard look as he turned the boys toward the car once more. Joseph signed and spoke to his brother, “You two go to the house. I’ll follow you there and we’ll talk, all right?”

“Wait a minute,” Catelyn protested, “this is my case, too. If you’re going to question him, I need to be there.”

Joseph turned back to look at her, his breath hissing from his lungs. Even driving him crazy, even in the midst of a murder investigation and, yes, even exhibiting her bulldog tenacity, she still had the power to stop him in his tracks with her beauty. He really had to get over that. She’d made it clear she didn’t want anything to do—romantically—with him.

Hands on her hips, feet planted wide, she thrust her jaw forward and narrowed her eyes. Arguing with her would be fruitless.

Besides, she was right. They were there to work together. They both had a common goal. Find the bad guy. He had to put aside his personal feelings and keep his heart under control. “I’m not questioning them in any official capacity right now. I’m just talking to my brother and his friend.” He paused. “But, all right, come on. I’m staying with my parents right now, so why don’t you meet us there?”

Shock at easy acquiescence flashed across her features before she could cover it up. But she didn’t hesitate. “Right, see you there.”

During the ten-minute drive, Alonso practically superglued himself to Joseph’s bumper. Catelyn kept a safer distance back probably trying to figure out his motive for agreeing to her presence.

The truth was, Joseph’s gut was telling him that Dylan had nothing to do with the disappearance of Kelly or the death of Tracy. What he wasn’t completely sure of was whether Dylan had been entirely truthful about his reason for being on the campus. It made sense, and yet…

Hopefully, they would get to the bottom of this and find Kelly before she turned up dead, too.


Catelyn called in her destination and let her captain know Joseph was in town and they’d met up at the crime scene. Dylan was still a suspect, but the evidence thus far was flimsy. He still had his freedom until something else turned up. Whereas Catelyn thought he was guilty, she could tell Joseph believed the boy.

Great.

They were immediately working the case from opposite sides. God, I know when I became a Christian all those years ago, You never promised me an easy life, but things are getting too complicated too fast. First my mother, now Joseph?

Catelyn didn’t have any doubts about Joseph’s investigative skills. That didn’t concern her. Working in close proximity with a man she had once had feelings for, did. Of course those feelings were gone now.

Yeah. Right.

No, if she were honest, she’d admit seeing Joseph had unsettled her. In a big way.

She pulled into the driveway of the home that had become her refuge. Thank goodness for Joseph’s sister Gina, who’d befriended Catelyn in high school, or she may never have seen a family as God intended one to be. She’d grown up with the perfect example of what a family wasn’t. Because of the Santino family, Catelyn grew to love the Lord and came to understand what a personal relationship with Him meant.

Thank you, Lord. Now, about Joseph…She sighed. I don’t even know what to pray, God. Just…be there, please?

Caught by a long red light, she was the last to arrive. Joseph had parked on the curb, Alonso in the drive off to the side. Joseph, Dylan and Alonso were deep into a signed conversation when Catelyn pulled in behind Joseph. Just as she set the car in Park, a black Jeep swerved around her screeching to a halt, blocking the drive.

She jumped at the sudden intrusion.

What?

A teenager about Alonso’s age threw himself from the Jeep and raced toward the boys. The furious expression on his face had Catelyn calling out, “Hey!”

Joseph turned at her yell, concern and shock twisting his features as the boy didn’t stop, but tackled Dylan to the ground and began pummeling him with both fists, his shrieks of outrage piercing her ears. Alonso threw himself into the fight, trying to protect his friend.

“Whoa!” Joseph tried to grab a punching fist and caught one on the chin for his effort. His head jerked back and he winced, then waded back in to the fray. This time, he grabbed the boy by his belt and yanked, tossing him to the side. The young guy landed with a grunt, scrambled to his feet and started to lunge back at Dylan. Alonso lurched to take a swing at the teen and Joseph stiff-armed him back.

Catelyn stepped in front of the attacker. The surprise of seeing her had him stumbling to a sudden halt, arms pinwheeling, feet dancing backward.

Adrenaline rushing at the surprise attack, she placed a hand against his chest and shoved, mimicking Joseph’s method to keep his brother out of the action. Knocked off balance, the boy went down on his rear. Noticing his hearing aids, she signed to him, “Stop, now.”

Joseph had Dylan’s arms pinned down, but the boy wasn’t struggling, although it looked like he wanted to. Joseph let him go, and Dylan shook his arms then reached up to dab at a cut above his right eye. Alonso hauled himself to his feet. “Chad? What do you think you’re doing?” he signed furiously.

“He killed Tracy!”

“He did not!” Alonso protested. “How could you even think that?” Four hands flew through the conversation. Joseph eyed Catelyn with a warning to stay out of it for now. She backed off and watched the boys yell at each other.

Dylan defended himself, saying, “I was there with Kelly, but I left. Tracy was fine when I left. I don’t know what happened later.”

“You knew Tracy wanted Kelly to break up with you and you told her to stay out of it ‘or else.’ I saw you.”

Dylan looked shocked, then nodded. “Yeah, I did, but I didn’t mean I’d kill her. Get real, man. I just meant I wouldn’t have anything else to do with her. I’d get her blackballed from the group.” He threw his hands up in the air as though in disbelief.

Catelyn almost believed Dylan. He looked so convincing. She fingered the scar on her left arm. Yeah, so had the kid who knifed her in thanks for giving him the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t falling for that one again.

“We need to either go down to the department where we can hash this all out or find a spot around here to get to the bottom of this.” She pulled out her notebook and pen.

Joseph motioned to the porch. Chad’s hands shook, his fury still palpable, but Catelyn detected grief beneath the anger. Tracy must have meant a lot to him. And what was that about Tracy wanting Kelly to break up with Dylan?

“Joseph, can you give Dylan’s and Chad’s parents a call and let them know what’s going on? I want to do this by the book. I’m not making an arrest—yet—so we can do this here, but I definitely want these parents aware of what’s going on. Plus, Chad’s in no shape to drive home. Someone needs to get his car.”

He pulled his BlackBerry out. “Sure.” He got the numbers from a reluctant Chad and a still-fuming Dylan. Soon he had Chad’s parents on the way and had left a message for Dylan’s mother and one for the kid’s father. They were divorced, but shared custody.

“If this turns into an official investigation interrogation, we’ll have to move it downtown,” Joseph warned.

“Of course. Right now, I just want to talk to Dylan. Informally. He’s over fourteen, I don’t need his parents’ permission for that.”

Nodding, Joseph took a seat on the swing. The still-glowering, yet subdued boys sat in opposite corners of the porch. Catelyn planted herself in a rocker between them. She kept silent hoping one of them would be ready to burst forth with information by the time she got around to asking some questions.

The door to the house swung open and Alonso’s father, Geovani Santino, stepped out.


“I heard a bunch of commotion out here.” Spying Dylan, he signed, “What happened to your eye?”

“My friend went nutso on me.” Dylan’s fingers flew, hands shaped the words and his glare notched up a bit in intensity. Chad Markham, a student at the deaf school and a member of the high school baseball team, fumed, fists clenched at his side.

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