Caught Up in the Touch by Laura Trentham

Author:Laura Trentham [Trentham, Laura]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781466883956
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2015-07-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Logan paused in the doorway of Dalt’s office. Scott and Ben Larkin occupied two chairs, side by side, facing Dalt’s desk. The back of their heads looked identical, ashy-brown hair trailed to thick necks that fed into Falcon-blue polos. Scott fidgeted while his father sat stock-still.

Logan had been on the wrong end of the law enough in his youth to get an instinctive shot of adrenaline seeing a police officer present for the meeting. Things had escalated quickly. Rick Jackson, in police blues with his sidearm present, sat next to Falcon High’s principal, who crossed and uncrossed his arms in a nervous, OCD-like rhythm. Sitting catty-corner to the desk, Rick spotted Logan lurking, but he didn’t offer a greeting beyond raised eyebrows.

The tension in the office was as thick as a July summer day, oppressive and stifling. A poison needed excising. Even though Logan had instigated the meeting, he felt strangely outnumbered and vulnerable.

From the hallway behind him, Dalt clapped Logan on the shoulder, making him flinch, and pushed him forward into the room. Logan made his way around the desk to lean against a whiteboard covered in Xs and Os.

Dalt, with a grim, focused expression Logan had seen too many times in Afghanistan, dropped into the seat behind his desk, leaned forward, and swept his gaze around the room. “Let’s get this business over with.”

Principal Hammond wiped his forehead with an old-fashioned white handkerchief before tucking it back into the inside of his blazer. His foot bounced, jingling the change in his pocket.

“I concur.” Ben Larkin raised a hand as if Dalt had put the issue to a vote. “College recruiters have been sending material to the house. Any questions need to be buried.”

Dalt leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. “The questions need to be answered, Ben, not buried. I want it understood that I run a clean program. Drug violations will not be tolerated.”

Ben Larkin’s mask of bravado fell. Lines creased his forehead and bracketed his mouth. He crossed his ankle over his knee, pushing out his slight potbelly. Suddenly instead of looking more like Scott’s older brother, Ben looked exactly what he was, an aging former athlete who had spent the last twenty years behind a desk.

“Mr. Larkin, you must understand the school’s position. We have been through this particular … situation before with disastrous results.” Principal Hammond’s voice, high and reedy, cut too loudly into the room at first, but as if hearing himself, the end of his sentence fell off, soft and strained.

Ben Larkin never took his gaze off Dalt. “Of course I understand, which is why I’m sure you’ll take the appropriate action when Scott informs you exactly who provided the drugs.”

Logan tensed. Hal Perkins. It had to be.

Distress and something akin to pain flickered over Scott’s face. No one but Logan seemed to notice.

Dalt’s voice rumbled, comforting yet commanding. “You need to tell us, Scott. Who provided the PEDs?”

Scott’s head whipped from staring at his father to darting around the room, landing on nothing and no one.

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