Justice Calls by Ann Roberts

Author:Ann Roberts [Ann Roberts]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781594936173
Google: BKXaswEACAAJ
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 40937923
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2018-09-15T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

As Ari predicted, she received a sign about what to do next: present the seller’s counteroffer to the Carpenters at four o’clock. With only two hours to prepare, she headed back to her office at Southwest Realty and studied the offer. It was fair and she would encourage the Carpenters to accept it, but she had a feeling they would counter again.

She used the time before their arrival to search the Glendale High yearbooks for Kelly Owens. She quickly realized it would be a short search. Each index only listed one page where his face could be found—a class picture page. She opened each book to the respective page and studied the three pictures of Kelly Owens. His frosh picture showed a happy, cherubic kid, still clinging to the edges of pre-teen innocence. By sophomore year, his smile was gone and he looked suspiciously at the camera. His hair was longer and he sported an earring. His junior photo clearly showed the tell-tale signs of drug abuse—gaunt cheeks and longer hair that covered most of his face, except for one eye that was partially closed. He’d arrived at picture day stoned. She set the photo from Glenn’s video next to his junior picture. He’d trimmed his hair, probably to get a job, but his face looked the same.

She decided to skim each book, index be damned. She’d served as an officer in her high school yearbook club, and she knew indexes were rarely accurate. While yearbook staff members attempted to index each student with every photo in which he or she appeared, it was impossible to place names with every person in the crowd shots.

There wasn’t a candid photo of Kelly anywhere in his freshman yearbook. She thought she might’ve found one shot of him sitting at a pep rally in his sophomore yearbook, but she couldn’t be sure. Next to him was a dark-haired boy. The possible-Kelly was leaning toward the dark-haired boy, whose face was partially blocked but looked a lot like Wolf Martinez. She hurriedly flipped the pages of his junior yearbook. She almost skipped the club section, since Kelly didn’t seem to be a joiner, but she remembered how much more involved she became in school after she knew more people. Richie, of course, would’ve been in everything his freshman year if he’d lived that long. He would have reveled in the high school experience.

She blinked away the forming tears and dragged her gaze across row after row of smiling students assembled for each club photo. Her gaze halted at a familiar face—Elijah Cruz. His arm was wrapped around the girl next to him, Isolde Tovar. She was looking at the camera, but he was gazing at her—with love. He held something in his hand, a black and white eight by ten head shot of a girl, who looked slightly familiar. “CeCe, his sister,” she murmured.

Ari glanced at the club name—MECHA. She remembered the acronym stood for a long Spanish phrase. It was a club to support Hispanic heritage.

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