Page 90 of The Bright Lands

“They were both Bison,” Joel said.

“And they were both gay.”

Joel sighed. “Does that put us back at a hate crime? The escorting ad might have been a bad joke, but it could have also gotten guys asking questions about Dylan, making assumptions that weren’t entirely wrong.”

The light turned yellow.

Joel continued. “Dylan apparently burned down a church and got away with it the first week of June. He must have thought he was untouchable. If the ad was real, why else would he be brave enough to put his face up on that site?”

“Do guys even put their faces on ads like that?” Clark said.

“The professionals do. Why wouldn’t they?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I suppose that’s city life.”

“The city, exactly. So if it was posted in Dallas and Houston, whoherefound the ad?”

Clark turned the truck. “And who did they tell about it?”

CLARK

Clark estimated she had maybe five minutes before word got around that she’d arrived at the school.

She spotted Garrett Mason seated in the back of a classroom, dressed in his football jersey. She opened the door, ignoring frigid Mrs. Sparrows. “I need you for a moment, Mr. Mason.”

He was in the hallway a moment later, looking stunned and sullen.

“July fourteenth. The marina. Were you buying or selling, Garrett?”

Garrett turned to Joel, standing just behind Clark. “The fuck happened to him?”

“That doesn’t matter, Garrett. You and KT Staler and Jason Ovelle were all arrested that night. It may not have gotten around but we keep records, son. We can go to court with them.”

“I was at home that night. With my girl, Jasmine. Watching fucking Netflix. Just ask her. That fat cop’s full of shit.”

“Which cop would that be?” Clark smiled.

Garrett realized his mistake. He rubbed his hand and said nothing more.

“That’s a nasty bruise,” she said, looking down at his knuckles.

“I dropped a weight on them.”

“Starsha Clark. Joel Whitley,” called a voice behind them. “This is a blast from the past.”

Shit.It was Coach Parter, ambling up the festooned hallway as proud and lazy as a bull at a county fair. He’d certainly found them fast.

“It’s Officer Clark,” she told Parter. “And this is police business.”

“And Lord knows Mr. Mason has had plenty of business with the police.” Stepping around her, Parter draped a big arm over Garrett’s wide shoulders. “But surely this can wait until after the game tonight, Officer?”

Clark was ready to fight but Joel shot her a quick look:Drop it.

“Just one question, Garrett,” Joel said as the boy started toward the classroom. “What exactlyarethe Bright Lands?”

Garrett scowled. Parter narrowed his eyes.

“The what?” the coach said, a cool warning in his lazy drawl. They didn’t bother asking again.