Chief Charlie Wexler headed back across the street with a smile on his face. Armed with Frenchy’s confession, it didn’t take long to get similar statements out of Effingham and Coopshaw. Both of them had shown a lick of sense and asked for a lawyer to be assigned to them, Charlie had anticipated that – he had a local attorney, Dennis Jermeay, on call for such an eventuality. The rest of this was just to be sure he was covering all the bases.

He got into the police station to discover Leo and Fred already there. “We got ’em,” Fred told him. “Neither of them are exactly at their best this hour of the morning.”

“Are the parents here?” Charlie asked.

“The Robideaux parents are on the way,” Fred smiled. “Melissa Melbourne is here with Brianna, and she’s not a happy camper.”

“I’ve known her for more years than I want to think about,” Charlie laughed, “and she’s never been a happy camper. Have you got them in the conference room?”

“Yeah,” Fred nodded. “The Robideaux kid is in the lounge. You want to keep them separate, right?”

“Might as well follow procedure,” Charlie grinned, “although I think things are pretty well sewn up already. Leo, it’s late for you, you can beat feet if you want to. Fred, why don’t you stick around till I get done with this?”

“Good enough, chief, I’m out of here,” Leo said. It had been a long night and he was already on overtime. Bed was starting to feel pretty appealing.

Charlie headed on into the conference room. He was not planning on taping this session since he didn’t expect charges to come out of it. “Good morning, ladies,” he said as he walked into the room. “How are you today?”

“Charles, what is this all about?” Brianna’s mother started right out. “Why would you need to drag us down here at this awful hour?”

“Sorry about that,” Charlie said. “There were some timing issues involved. We believe your daughter may have been witness to a felony, and we need to get her statement.”

“Felony?! What felony?” Mrs. Melbourne nearly shrieked. “Melissa, have you been doing something you shouldn’t have been doing.”

“Mom, I . . . ” she began, but was interrupted by the police chief.

“Melissa, since Brianna is a minor I’d like to have you witness this next statement. Although I doubt your daughter is guilty of anything serious, I’d like to formally read the both of you your rights before we get down to business.”

“Her rights?” Mrs. Melbourne said. “That sounds as if she’s committed a crime herself.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Charlie shrugged, and went through the Miranda statement with the two of them.

“Charles,” Mrs. Melbourne said, “do you think we need a lawyer? ”

“I can’t be the judge of that, Melissa,” he nodded, which was a statement right out of the book. “I do know Dennis Jermeay is available right across the street, and he’s on call if needed. He does, however, charge for his services even if you are not accused of anything, and I doubt Brianna will be. Why don’t we get into this, and if you feel you need a lawyer you can say so at any time, then we’ll stop and I’ll call him over.”

“I guess it’s all right,” she said a little testily.

“All right, Melissa, I would like to point out that I’m questioning Brianna on this and not you, so would you just please sit back and let her answer?” Like that was going to happen, he thought, but at least the statement had been made.

“Get on with it,” Mrs. Melbourne said, sounding even more testy.

“All right,” Charlie said. “I have reason to believe that last Friday night you were out riding around with Vanessa Robideaux, Matt Effingham, and Larry Coopshaw, in a car driven by Frank LeDroit . . . ”

“Brianna!” Mrs. Melbourne shrieked. “You were out riding around with that punk?”

“Melissa, please,” Charlie said. “Let me ask the questions and let her answer them. Brianna, is what I just said correct?”

“Yeah, I guess I was for a while,” she said nervously, realizing that whatever happened with the police, her mother was going to be all over her. Given a choice, she’d really rather have dealt with the police.

“All right,” Charlie smiled. “I know you were at the Frostee Freeze for a while. What happened when you left?”

“Well, we took Mary Lou home,” Brianna said. “She got to yelling at Vixen Hvalchek and took a swing at her, and Vixen flattened her. I mean, right on her butt, and she was hurt, so after Vixen left, we took her home. Is Vixen in trouble? I mean, Mary Lou started it and swung first.”

“Not that I know of,” Charlie told her. “As you said, Miss Kempa started it and swung first. In any case, no complaint has been filed against Miss Hvalchek. So what happened after you dropped Miss Kempa off?”

“We just kinda rode around a little,” Brianna admitted. “I th . . . no, I know that Frenchy was looking for someone to beat up because of what happened to Mary Lou. I mean, he said he had to get even somehow.”

“Did he find someone?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah, we were driving around, and we came across Alan Jahnke,” Brianna said. “Frenchy got all pis . . . mad because Alan had laughed at what had happened at the Frostee Freeze, and Frenchy doesn’t like people laughing at him.”

In a matter of minutes, Charlie took her through the whole sequence of events, right down to Alan being dumped off out on the old railroad grade. Remarkably, he made it through without any interruptions from Mrs. Melbourne, although by the time it was over with he could look over at her and worry that she was about to burst a blood vessel.

“All right,” Brianna,” Charlie continued, “This is important. At any time during this whole incident, did you strike, attempt to strike or threaten to strike Mr. Jahnke?”

“No,” she said. “Frenchy was doing a pretty good job of it, with Matt and Larry holding on to him so he couldn’t hit back. Vanessa and I mostly were laughing, although Vanessa was pretty drunk.”

“Had you been drinking, too?” Charlie asked softly.

Brianna glanced over at her mother, gulped, and said, “Well, yeah, a little.”

“Brianna Melbourne!” Mrs. Melbourne erupted, no longer able to sit back in silence. “Riding around with those punks and watching while they beat someone up is bad enough. Now you tell me you were drinking with them. Did you have sex with all of them, too?”

“Melissa, please,” Charlie said defensively. “Let me get through with this, and then you can have your discussion with your daughter on your own time. Brianna, who provided the beer? I presume it was beer?”

“Yeah, it was beer,” she replied ruefully, knowing her goose was well and truly cooked with her mother. “Frenchy got it somewhere, I don’t know where. He has some source he won’t talk about.”

“Well, that’s about what I needed to cover today,” Charlie smiled, pretty sure that what was going to happen to Brianna was going to be worse than anything he could manage through the law, under the circumstances. In theory, he could have filed accessory charges against her, but they might not stick. “You may well be subpoenaed to testify in a criminal trial. I don’t know if or when it will happen, but if you testify as fairly and honestly as you did today, there should be no problems.”

“You may be done with her Charles,” Brianna’s mother said, “but I’m not. Not in the slightest! Brianna, I’m taking you home, I’m calling your father, and we’re going to have a serious discussion.”

Ashley Keilhorn didn’t have that many slutty outfits, so today she was back to the tiny triangle top T-backed thong bikini as she sat in her normal place on the back porch lounge, phone in hand. It had been a busy morning, letting her classmates and friends know that Frenchy, Larry, and Matt had been arrested. She didn’t know what for yet – nobody seemed to know – but just the fact that they’d been hauled in to the jail was news indeed. There was a lot of calling back and forth, but all she heard was speculation.

Whatever it was, she hoped it was good – Frenchy and his buddies deserved to be taken down a notch or two. This might do it.

Nobody seemed to know much about it, but it was becoming even more clear that Alan Jahnke and Summer Trevetheck were getting serious about each other. The two of them had been seen last evening, riding around with Jack Erikson and Vixen Hvalchek in Jack’s Jeep. That really wasn’t news, but it irked Ashley a little. She had a lot of friends, mostly girls but some guys, but it sure would be neat to be riding around with a gang, necking with someone.

Once again, she asked herself why she just couldn’t bring herself to call up Lyle Angarrack. Granted, he was no huge dreamboat, just huge, but he was a nice guy and the two of them might make a good fit. Or, at least be able to understand a few things they shared, like some of the shit big people took.

Oh, just do it, she told herself, but she couldn’t raise the phone from her ample belly and punch the numbers. Jeez Ashley, she thought, just what kind of wuss are you?

The interview with the other girl riding around with LeDroit and his friends went just about as well as the first, except for the fact that Vanessa Robideaux had been drinking more heavily than the Melbourne kid, and she wasn’t as clear on the details. When all was said and done, she supported the story. If the incident came to trial, Charlie knew the prosecutor wouldn’t be lacking for witnesses against LeDroit. There were still some things that would have to be played out, such as the arraignment and setting bail, which wouldn’t happen until tomorrow morning, but for the most part Charlie had done his job. He felt good about setting those young punks down a little.

The Robideaux kid had just left, along with a father that was about as mad at her as Melissa Melbourne had been at Brianna, which also made him feel good. Maybe they’d run a little less wild for a while, or at least have better taste in boyfriends, but somehow he doubted the latter.

Charlie was sitting at his desk alone in the station, Fred having left until the evening. He was working on a fresh cup of coffee when the phone rang. Hoping it wasn’t more trouble, he picked it up and said, “Spearfish Lake Police, Chief Wexler.”

“Wexler!” an outraged voice stormed. “What is the meaning of this mockery of justice?”

Charlie recognized Bryson Payne, the high school principal, and in an instant figured what this was all about. “What mockery of justice?” he asked innocently, just in case the guy had a hair up his butt about something else.

“Why are three of my football players in jail?” Payne raged. “Aren’t you over-reacting just a little? I doubt those boys did anything that far out of line. Besides, if it was a school thing, the school should take care of it.”

Payne’s statement got Charlie’s dander up. This guy had been about as responsible for the whole incident as anyone, with his apparent belief that football players could do no wrong. “First off, it’s not a school thing,” Charlie told him. “It was a serious felony, committed out in the community, far from school property; none of the individuals involved were in school, which was not in session at the time. Therefore, it falls in my jurisdiction.”

“But it involves students!” Payne almost shrieked. “Those are my football players that you’ve got in jail! They couldn’t have done anything serious. I mean, kids will be kids, you expect a little roughhousing. You were way over the limit with them, Wexler, way over the limit!”

“This is a criminal matter, and they were way beyond a little innocent roughhousing,” Charlie said. “The prosecutor could still charge them with attempted murder, although I doubt it. This is really none of your business. Haven’t you got anything important to do?”

“There is nothing more important than my doing something to keep the police from ruining the lives of innocent children!” Payne roared.

“Mr. Payne, just so you know, they are not children. They are over eighteen, and have been charged as the adults they are.”

“Yes, but they’re still students! Still in school! It’s still my duty to watch out for them.”

That asshole, Charlie thought. He had a good case against the three, and it didn’t involve the school in any way, but Payne was perfectly capable of doing something that would at a minimum muddy the waters. It would be nice to have his ass in a sling for once. Bluffing with nothing in particular in his hand had worked well once this morning, he thought; let’s see if it would work again.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about them if I were you,” Charlie said genially, which Payne should have realized meant trouble. “You’ve got more important things to worry about, like what happens when the contents of John Ordway’s suicide note come out.”

“Ordway?” Payne replied, warming up to another good rant but stopped in his tracks by the words. “What does he have to do with it?”

“You know just as much about it as I do,” Charlie said truthfully. “Maybe more. You don’t think it’s not going to get out, do you? Come on, this is Spearfish Lake! There are people here who live to gossip. I know you’ve got some votes on the school board even after that DUI you had a few weeks ago, but once the stories get around you won’t have a single one.”

“What stories?” Payne said, now outraged but defensive.

“Oh, you know what stories,” Charlie said smugly, smelling blood in the water. “They might not be true, but who will know? Ordway’s dead, after all.” Charlie let out a sigh as his brain ran furiously. It was a hell of a bluff, but it might work. One way to find out. “I’ll tell you what, I don’t know what’s in the note myself. The Sheriff hasn’t released it yet, but when it gets out, word is going to get around quick. You might want to consider resigning while you can still get out with a solid reputation, rather than having to admit you were booted out.”

“We’ll see about this,” Payne stormed, and hung up the phone. Yeah, Charlie grinned as he thought, there might be a little more to that than meets the eye. He thought for a moment about calling over to Steve and asking him to sit on the note for a while, but decided against it. This morning Steve had told him there were still a couple of loose ends on the case, so it seemed unlikely that he would say anything much about it, and he wouldn’t release the contents of a suicide note unless it involved something else. Charlie figured Steve would stonewall, just from policy.

So we’ll see, he thought. At least he’d thrown the rattlesnake over into the other court for once.

The rest of the morning was fun for Jack and his friends.

While they were still at the Spearfish Lake Café, Vixen had commented that they really ought to stop by Spearfish Lake Outfitters to thank Mrs. Archer for setting them up with the bear spray, and how it had really helped them, at least up to a point. It turned into an interesting discussion about their college plans and led to a strong suggestion to have a conversation with Cody and Jan before they headed back to college. It was a conversation that led to a lot of talking and filled up the rest of the morning, leaving them with some ideas to pursue.

It was a hot day, already uncomfortable when they decided the time had finally come to work on the Jeep. Everybody pulled on swimsuits and set to work; even Howie and Misty joined in, since she had showed up about the time they started. As expected, it quickly degenerated into an ongoing, good natured water fight that left everyone soaked. Nothing was said by the guys, but all thought that playing around with three good-looking girls in miniscule bikinis took all the sting out of the work of washing and waxing the Jeep.

The water fight was winding down when a police car pulled into the driveway, and Chief Wexler got out. It didn’t take him long to figure out what was going on, and his first words were, “Hey! Cease fire!”

That pretty well settled that; Misty dropped the hose that she had been wielding with deadly accuracy, and all gathered around the chief. “So what’s happening? ” Jack asked.

“Well,” the chief replied, surveying the kids – especially the water- soaked girls – “The big news is that I have confessions from LeDroit, Coopshaw, and Effingham. They’re going to be arraigned at nine o’clock tomorrow morning, if you want to be there.”

“Do we have to be?” Summer asked.

“Not if you don’t want to be,” the chief answered. “They will be charged and asked to plead guilty or not guilty. If we get guilty pleas, there won’t be a trial and Judge Dieball can move on to the sentencing phase. If they plead not guilty, then there’ll be a trial at some future date, and the judge will set bond on them.”

“That means they’ll be back out on the streets, right?” Jack asked, dejected by the prospect.

“Not necessarily,” the chief told them. “Even if bond is granted, which seems likely, they’ll still have to post it. That might not happen, and it’s out of my control, but if the bond is very high it might take a while. On the other hand, I also have a confession from LeDroit on busting the PPO, and that’ll come up in the morning. I would be very surprised if Judge Dieball didn’t give him thirty days on the spot for that.”

“Well, that’s something,” Alan said grumpily, the water still dripping off him from the hosing that Misty had given him. “I guess the PPO worked at least a little.”

“It worked more than a little,” the chief told him. “It just got buried in the other stuff, but I’m pretty sure Mr. LeDroit will find out that a PPO means what it says, at least in this town. By the way, the new PPOs for the Eriksons, Hvalchecks and Trevethecks should be issued this afternoon, and since the three individuals involved are currently lodged at the county jail, it shouldn’t be any trouble to serve them.”

“That’ll help,” Jack said. “I wouldn’t want to bet that Frenchy will learn his lesson about them, but the other two don’t seem likely to try something without him pushing them.”

“That’s probably true,” the chief said. “And don’t forget, you’ll have PPOs against them, too.”

“Well, I guess we can’t ask for much more than that,” Jack said. “If it comes to trial, how long is that going to take?”

“Hard to say, it depends on the circumstances,” the chief told them. “But I’m sure that Judge Dieball will also include an order that they stay away from you as a stipulation for the bond. Either way, any action by them means a trip back to jail.”

“Well, thanks, Chief,” Jack said. “It’s seemed to me for a long time that no one would do anything about those guys, but it looks like I was wrong. Thanks for showing me that, too.”

“Yeah,” Alan agreed. “What he said.”

“It took more than just the police to get this settled,” the chief told them. “You kids played a part, too. Don’t forget that. If you have any more troubles with them, call us right away, all right?”

“Sure thing,” Jack said. “Uh, about the court thing tomorrow. You said we didn’t have to be there, but we can come anyway?”

“Sure, if you want to,” the chief told them. “If you haven’t watched the proceedings in real life before you might learn something. The arraignment tomorrow will be pretty straightforward, with no trial action or anything like that, but it’s an important step in the whole process.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Jack said, “but it sounds like it might be interesting. I think I’ll be there.”

That evening, the four decided to visit the Frostee Freeze for the first time in almost a week. Whatever happened in court the next day, it was one time that they could be sure that Frenchy and his buddies wouldn’t be bothering them.

It was an interesting experience. A lot had happened since Jack, Vixen, and Alan had last been there. The story had gotten around that Frenchy and his buddies were in jail as the result of what had happened. Since they were not the only ones to have been on the receiving end of Frenchy’s actions at one time or another, the three were pretty popular around the parking lot that evening. A lot of people came by at one time or another to congratulate them, or at least to offer their good wishes.

The parking lot was pretty full, so Jack had parked the Jeep along the back row while he and his three friends got one of the picnic tables under the awnings to enjoy their ice cream and the contact with people they knew.

While the news about Frenchy was big news, it wasn’t the biggest news of the evening: the word had gone around in the mid-afternoon that Mr. Payne had resigned as the principal of the high school!

“Good riddance,” Jack said when he first heard the word; he, like the others, had been sort of out of touch all afternoon. “We won’t have to watch him sucking up to the football players anymore and insisting that everyone else kiss their ass.”

“Yeah, but it sucks if you’re a football player,” Eddie Awkerman protested. “He kind of made it worthwhile to be on the football team, even if we were losing.”

“Yeah, but I still thought it sucked that he made such a big deal out of losing football teams and could hardly bother to note that the girls’ basketball team has won a couple state championships while he’s been principal,” Summer pointed out. “And it’s not that I play basketball, because I don’t. I don’t even go to the games. It just reeked that he seemed to think that it was more important to be a losing guy than it was to be a winning girl.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie said. “I always thought that sort of reeked, myself.”

“It’s a relief to me that he’s gone,” Alan said. “I figured he’d land on my ass big time because I had something to do with Frenchy getting thrown into jail. At least I won’t have to worry about that.”

“You didn’t really think he’d do that, did you?” Awkerman asked.

“Of course he would,” Alan snorted. “He seemed to think that people like me were there so his favorite football players would have someone easy to beat up on. He blamed me for stuff like that more than once. I’ll tell you what, having Frenchy out of the picture for a while is good, but having Payne gone for good is even better.”

“Well, coach seemed to think that, when I talked to him earlier,” Awkerman said. “I got the impression he’d like to see Frenchy, Matt, and Larry in jail until the football season is over with. He said that with those three gone and not threatening everyone, the team might think about being a team and might even win a game or two. I don’t know that I don’t agree with him.”

“Next case,” Judge Dieball called a little after nine the next morning. “People versus Frank LeDroit, Aggravated Assault. Bailiff, would you bring in Mr. LeDroit?”

Jack, Vixen, Alan, and Summer had dressed up for the arraignment. Not knowing what was proper, the guys wore slacks and polo shirts; the girls had on unaccustomed skirts and blouses. The four sat quietly in the back of the courtroom, waiting to see what was going to happen.

They weren’t the only students there from Spearfish Lake High School: Ashley Keilhorn and Heather Callahan were there, along with Eddie Awkerman, Scotty Parsons, and a few of the guys from the football team. Vanessa Robideaux and Brianna Melbourne were conspicuous by their absence; the rumor mill had it that both had been grounded, and that their parents might even not let them do cheerleading.

Frenchy came into the courtroom wearing orange jail coveralls and his hands handcuffed behind his back, led by an elderly deputy. Frenchy was as dispirited as he could be; yesterday, he’d used his one phone call to get hold of Mr. Payne, to let him know what was happening. Payne, pansy though he was, had gotten him out of any number of messes, and he’d felt confident that he could manage it again.

But that had gone down the tubes in the last few minutes, when the deputy told him that Payne had resigned, and was even now packing his stuff to get out of town. Nobody seemed to know why he’d resigned, but he sure wasn’t going to be any help to Frenchy in ducking this mess. They had him and he knew it. He looked out across the courtroom and the kids gathered there, probably to laugh at him, he thought. He needed to remember who they were, because they needed their butts kicked to let them know what was what and that he still was in charge. He glared at them, in hopes that they’d get the message and fear what would be coming when he got out of this mess.

“Mr. LeDroit,” Judge Dieball said, “you are charged with aggravated assault against the person of one Alan Jahnke on July 31 of this year. This is a serious offense, and you have the option to have a lawyer paid for by the people. Is it your intention to still reject having a lawyer?”

“Yeah, I don’t need no lawyer,” Frenchy said. It was clear they had him.

“Are you quite sure?” Judge Dieball asked. Aggravated assault was really something of a reach for what had happened, but the prosecutor had gone for it with the idea of it being a bargaining chip for a guilty plea to simple assault. Any lawyer would see this, but this young punk was obviously no lawyer.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Frenchy replied. “Let’s get this over with.”

“All right, Mr. LeDroit,” Judge Dieball said, “if that is your wish. You have heard the charge. How do you plea?”

“Yeah, I pounded the little fuck,” Frenchy said, thinking more of the kids in the crowd than the judge before him. “He deserved it, and he got it.”

“Does that mean you say you plead guilty to the charge?” Judge Dieball said, a little surprised at the response.

“I said I did it, and I did it,” Frenchy sneered.

“A plea of guilty is therefore entered,” the Judge said. “That being the case, you are sentenced to a period of not less than ninety days in the county jail.”

Reality crushed down on Frenchy, but not hard enough. He turned to the back of the courtroom and said, “Jahnke, I’m gonna kick your ass for this. You too, Erikson.”

The judge’s gavel banged on the pad. “Mr. LeDroit,” he snarled, “your behavior before this court is inexcusable. You need to learn some manners. I redact my sentence of ninety days and change it to a period of not less than one hundred eighty days in the county jail. Do you want to try for a year?”

“Uh, no sir,” Frenchy said, realizing that his mouth had gotten him into trouble. Why had Mr. Payne deserted him?

“Very good,” Judge Dieball said. “In addition to the jail term, you are sentenced to one year of probation. Until the end of the probation, you are barred from being in contact with Mr. Matthew Effingham or Mr. Lawrence Coopshaw, or to any party that has a personal protection order against you, of which I believe several are present in the courtroom today. That list includes Mr. Alan Jahnke, Mr. James Ericson, Mr. Howard Ericson, Miss Vixen Hvalcheck, and Miss Summer Trevetheck, and their families. In addition, during the period of probation you will complete two hundred hours of community service. Is all that clear?”

“Uh, yes, sir,” Frenchy said.

“You would do well to use the next few months to think about your life,” Judge Dieball said. “Otherwise you run the risk of having a long but dim future as a client of the state Department of Corrections.”

Frenchy just looked at the judge. Where was Mr. Payne? Why had his friends deserted him?

“All right, Mr. LeDroit,” Judge Dieball said. “Looking at the docket, I see we have you appearing here again. Let’s save the bailiff a few steps and jump ahead to it. People versus Frank LeDroit, Violation of Personal Protection Order. Mr. LeDroit, a few minutes ago I asked you if you wished to have an attorney. I will again put the question to you.”

“You guys are going to send me up anyway, it doesn’t matter,” he said.

“I will take that as a ‘no,’”' Judge Dieball said. “You are accused of violating a personal protection order served to you enjoining you from getting closer than one hundred feet to Mr. Alan Jahnke. The plaintiff has charged that you violated that order on Wednesday night. How do you plead, guilty or not guilty.”

“I didn’t intend to do it,” Frenchy said. “But I guess I did, so I guess I’m guilty.”

“Very well,” the judge said. “A guilty plea having been offered, I sentence you to thirty days in the county jail, consecutive to the other sentence just pronounced. Violation of this order in the future will bring a longer sentence. Is that clear, Mr. LeDroit?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he said, deflated.

“Very well,” the judge said. “Bailiff, would you conduct Mr. LeDroit to the holding area and bring in the next case, which I believe is People versus Matthew Effingham.”

“Wow,” Jack said to his friends outside the courtroom. “Remind me never to get that judge pissed at me.”

The other two cases were over with; Matt and Larry hadn’t taken it anywhere as bad as Frenchy, mostly because they’d had enough sense to take advantage of having a lawyer present, who urged them to plead to a lesser charge of simple assault. After some discussion of possible jail time, they were finally sentenced to a year’s probation, but with a few stipulations, among them that they were not to get into contact with Frenchy, and not to approach Jack, Vixen, Alan, Summer, or their families. They were also sentenced to two hundred hours of community service, and were not to be allowed to attend school extracurricular activities or participate in sports until the community service was completed.

“Yeah,” Alan said. “I make it early March before they let him out. That’s better than I expected. That’s seven months before I have to be looking out for him again. I will admit to sitting back there and mentally urging him to mouth off at the judge again, though.”

“He might have learned that wasn’t such a good idea, but it sure took him a while,” Summer laughed.

“It would have been nice,” Vixen agreed. “Thirteen months would have given us enough time to be out of here and in college somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Jack said. “We need to talk about that, and soon. Mrs. Archer, and Cody and Jan laid several ideas on us that we ought to talk over.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Summer suggested. “What do you say we pack a picnic lunch and some stuff for supper, and go out to that lake where we were the other day? We could talk about this stuff, go swimming, and spend a little time alone.” She didn’t say that she and Alan had whispered back and forth that they felt they ought to go out and offer thanks to the Goddess for watching over them Wednesday night, and for the justice served this morning.

She and Alan had also talked over the idea that maybe they needed to let Jack and Vixen know what was happening with them. It seemed like they were destined to remain good friends, and it didn’t seem right to keep them out of their secrets. It didn’t mean that they’d be asked to join, although they’d be welcome if they did – but it was awkward to have to keep secrets like that from friends. They still needed to talk about it a little, though, and talk with the Goddess, too.

“Sounds good to me,” Vixen said. “Do you think we should take swimsuits?”

“Oh, probably,” Summer smiled. “That doesn’t mean we have to use them, though.”

“This idea is sounding like a plan,” Alan agreed. “We’ve got time enough to get around and still have a good day out there, especially now that we’ve got something to celebrate.”

“It means we’ll probably have to wash the Jeep again,” Jack smiled, “although I doubt anyone will mind if we do it like we did yesterday. God, it’s good to hang out with friends.”

Ashley Keilhorn heard Jack’s last statement as she walked off alone. Damn, it would be nice to hang out at a lake with some friends, she thought. She had plenty of phone friends, but they weren’t real friends, and certainly not boyfriends. It wouldn’t do to ask Jack and the others if she could tag along, either; it was clear from what was said that there was going to be some personal stuff going on, too. She’d be an extra, and would feel lousy about it.

She drove home alone, thinking about it, thinking about what she’d tell the people she talked to on the phone – and thinking about what outfit she wanted to wear when she did. That slingshot one-piece would be nice, but it would be nicer to wear it at some isolated lake with a boyfriend, but she was no closer to that than she’d been.

It was her own damn fault, she realized, and knew what she had to do. She got home, parked her car and walked out to the lounge on the back porch without changing out of the clothes she’d worn to court. She pulled out the phone, and dialed the number she’d hesitated to dial all week. As it turned out, Lyle picked it up.

“Hi, Lyle,” she said. “This is Ashley Keilhorn. Guess who we’re not going to have bugging us at school this year?”

Later that afternoon, Jack and Vixen were out on the far side of the little lake getting back to birding. Vixen had her attention on sorting out a warbler, as the whole species tends to look so much alike in the fall. Between binoculars and bird book, she was trying to figure out the identification, while Jack scanned around the lake with his binoculars, looking for nothing in particular.

He scanned down to the far end of the lake, then caught a strange sight, one he hadn’t expected: Alan and Summer, nude as they’d been much of the afternoon, but standing up straight, holding knives up toward the sky. Jack glanced at it for a moment, thought about the camera hanging around his neck, then moved his gaze onward. He wasn’t about to say anything about it, even to Vixen; after all, this seemed to be about where he’d come in the week before.

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