Kate McKendrick would never forget the terrible day Ned Hodgins shot up Briar Ridge High School. Sometimes the pain was so unbearable she couldn’t breathe.
But she was a survivor. And even though surviving brought guilt, it also inspired her to do something positive for the town where she’d grown up.
Fifteen years had passed now. It was time to move on.
The sound of bus engines roaring to life blended with cheers of students as they left the building. Through her window, she watched the kids high-fiving and gathering by their vehicles to plan where they would go to celebrate.
Summer break was always exciting and meant lazy days at the river, burgers and milkshakes at Frosty’s, and swimming at the swimming hole near the falls. Teachers were also anxious for a much-needed vacation from the classroom. Yet this year, the end of the school session marked the beginning of a new era.
Students and faculty would be in a new school come fall. A facility she’d pushed for as the school principal for over two years.
Not only was this old building crumbling around them, but the creek had overflowed and flooded the school. Inspectors had found mold in the walls and the health department had ruled the place a hazard, prompting the building plans to be expedited.
Truthfully, though, the parents in Briar Ridge didn’t consider the school a safe place anyway. The shooting that had shattered the town still haunted residents like a black plague.
Mixed emotions filled Kate as the noise outside died down. Inside, the school felt suddenly empty. Cold. Almost eerie.
She left her office, walked into the hall and studied the memorial featuring the students who’d been lost in the shooting. Photographs of the victims hung on the wall. So many lives lost and destroyed that day. So senseless.
But the most personal loss for Kate was her mother, Elaine—a teacher at the time. Forty-five years old. Dead too soon.
She’d taken a bullet to save her students.
Kate blinked back tears. At the time, her mother’s dark brown hair hadn’t grayed yet, and her smile lit up the room. Every time Kate walked by her mother’s English Lit classroom, she could see her mother at the chalkboard, hear her voice as she encouraged students to write their own stories.
Grief clogged her throat as memories taunted her. Her mother dancing around the kitchen at home as she helped Kate and her two best friends, Macy Stark and Brynn Gaines, stir up a batch of chocolate-chip cookies when they were little. Her mother making silly faces as they decorated Christmas stockings, made clothespin reindeer and glittery ornaments. Her mother’s off-key singing as she belted out show tunes in the shower.
But the bad memories of the shooting bombarded her, obliterating the sweetness.
Kate could still hear the screams of the terrified kids when Ned Hodgkins unleashed his rage on his classmates with that .38 Special. Athletic Riggs Benford dropping to the floor as a bullet pierced his leg. Mickey Lawson’s howl of pain as Ned shot him in the face. Ned turning the gun toward her and Macy. Her mother stepping between them...
Then she was falling, blood gushing from her chest where the bullet pierced her heart....
Reeling with shock, Kate fell to her knees by her mother’s side, pressed her hands to her mother’s chest and tried to stop the bleeding. Panicked students raced out the door and jumped through windows to escape. Ned barreled down the hallway, shooting wildly.
“Hang in there, Mama,” Kate cried.
Tears blurred her mother’s eyes, the unconditional love she gave to everyone shining through the pain. She squeezed Kate’s hand. “Help the others, honey.”
Kate shook her head. She couldn’t leave her mother.
But her mother cupped Kate’s face in her shaky hands. Hands that had tended to Kate’s booboos and comforted her when she was sick or upset. “I love you, Kate. Go. The other kids need you.”
What could she do? She was weak, unarmed, couldn’t take down a shooter. But the sound of another gunshot bled through the shock immobilizing her. Then more gunfire and screams.
Her mother squeezed her hand again. “Be strong, Kate. Make something good come of this.”
Choking back a sob, she ripped off her jacket, folded it and pressed it to her mother’s chest. How could anything good come of this horrible, senseless violence?
“Hold on, Mom. Please... I love you.”
Just as her mother told her to do, Kate ran to help the injured. Two students were carrying another guy toward the exit. A freshman was huddled in the corner, rocking herself back and forth. Kate helped her up and ushered her into the chem lab to hide. Rushing back to the hall, she searched for her friends Brynn and Macy, but didn’t see them. Kids bumped into her as they ran for the doors. Another freshman had fallen in the stampede, and Kate dragged her to the side then helped her up. As the girl ran for the exit, Kate moved on down the hall. Cara Winthrop lay on the floor near the cafeteria, her body still, eyes lifeless. Her boyfriend, Jay Lakewood, held her in his arms, rocking her and crying.
Finally, a siren wailed outside. Police stormed in. An ambulance arrived, medics and firefighters hurrying in to help the wounded.
Kate raced back to check on her mother, but she was too late.
Her mother looked ghostly white, her eyes staring wide open in death.
OUTSIDE THE SCHOOL, the sound of car engines bursting to life and peeling from the parking lot jarred Kate back to the present. Her breathing was erratic and she was shaking. But she looked out and saw clouds forming in the sky, casting a grayness over the treetops.
The last of the staff was also leaving.
Tonight, the mayor had called a town meeting to address recent unrest about the plans for the new school.
When she was a little girl, Briar Ridge had been a sweet, sleepy little vacation mountain town where tourists flocked for the apple and pumpkin festivals in the fall and the Dogwood Festival in the spring. Located a few miles from Bear Mountain, winter vacationers came for skiing and tubing on the mountain.
Bear Mountain still attracted the winter crowd, but people tended to skirt Briar Ridge and each year the festivals had grown smaller and smaller. Plans for new construction and homes had dwindled in the oppressive atmosphere.
In honor of her mother, Kate wanted to help restore Briar Ridge to its former glory.
Suddenly anxious to leave the deserted building, she ducked into her office to finish her paperwork before she left for the day. She noticed a stack of mail that still needed sorting. One particular envelope caught her eye because it had no postage mark. A stamp of the school logo, a black bear, marked the outside.
Nerves clawed at her as she opened the envelope and removed the invitation to the dedication for the new school. Her staff had mailed them to the entire Briar Ridge alumni.
Someone had crumpled the invitation, then refolded it and stuck it back inside the envelope.
Frowning, she flipped it over and stared at the scrawled writing on the back.
Dear Kate,
It was your fault.
Her hand shook as she searched for a signature. But it was blank.
RIGGS BENFORD STOWED his helmet and bunker gear at the firehouse, muttered goodbye to his captain and headed outside to his pickup.
He climbed into the cab, started the engine and drove toward the cabin he’d built four years ago on the edge of town. The scent of smoke and sweat permeated his skin from the fire at the abandoned chicken houses a few miles north of Briar Ridge. He definitely needed a shower before the town meeting.
The guys at the house had been talking about it all day. Locals were still divided over supporting the new build or rallying to repair the existing problems at the old school and turn it into a viable building, perhaps a community center. Although that fight had been lost two years ago, they wanted their voices to be heard. Some even badmouthed Kate McKendrick for pushing the project through.
He hoped things didn’t get out of control tonight.
An image of Kate with that fiery red hair taunted him. In high school, she’d been quiet and had kept to herself. Not his type at all. And she sure as hell wouldn’t have run around with a guy with the bad reputation he had.
She’d changed since high school, though. Instead of allowing the tragedy that had taken her mother to destroy her, the young, awkward girl had become a leader in the community.
In spite of the fact that he didn’t share her optimism, Riggs admired her for instigating positive changes.
The town had been mired in despair for over a decade. Not that anyone should forget the tragedy that had shattered lives, families and friendships, and stolen the innocence of children that day. But living in fear had taken its toll.
Once, people in Briar Ridge had been friendly and welcoming. They’d never locked their doors. Kids had ridden their bikes to the malt shop freely. And when school started each fall, students had raced to class in anticipation of attending football games, pep rallies and school dances.
Now, a wariness pervaded the residents and students.
Hell, he understood that wariness. He’d been a senior at the time and had been shot in the leg. He was one of the lucky ones, though. Sure, he’d had surgery and undergone months of physical therapy to walk again, but he’d recovered physically. Still, his soccer career had come to a halt in spite of the PT and he’d had nightmares of the shooting for months afterward.
Other students hadn’t fared so well. The mayor’s daughter Brynn had been paralyzed from the waist down. Stone Lawson’s younger brother Mickey had been blinded. Another guy had PTSD and had turned to drugs. Some who’d lost loved ones had moved away while others couldn’t bear to leave the area, as if leaving meant dishonoring the dead.
Even though Kate’s mother had died, Kate had stayed in Briar Ridge. Mrs. McKendrick was the best teacher he’d ever had. No one knew he’d had trouble reading. Dyslexia. Kids had teased him when he was young. Called him stupid. Even his old man had when he was drunk, which was most days.
But Kate’s mother had recognized his problem and tutored him in private.
She’d also tended his injuries a few times when his old man had beaten the hell out of him. No one knew about that, either. He’d begged her to keep it that way. Still, she’d talked to his mother. Fat lot of good that had done. When she’d tried to reason with his father, he’d turned his fists on her. Said she was nothing but a dumb seamstress. She’d worked at the sewing plant and made quilts to sell on the side. Riggs had thought they were pretty.
His father had said she was worthless.
Then one day she’d had enough and she’d cut and run.
His old man had blamed him for that, too. When Riggs had been shot, his old man had said he was weak. He’d left, too.
Didn’t matter. He hadn’t wanted him around anyway.
Shaking off the memories, Riggs parked at his house, grabbed his mail and hurried inside. The invitation to the dedication hung on his fridge, a reminder of the meeting tonight, and that alumni were coming to town for a reunion. Guilt for how he’d treated Ned Hodgkins gnawed at him. Ned hadn’t fit into the group of jocks he’d hung out with.
They should have been nicer to him, though, but they’d been young and stupid. They’d never considered how adversely their behavior had affected Ned. No one had.
Until it was too late.
They’d been paying for it ever since.
THE WIND WHISTLED shrilly off Bear Mountain, storm clouds casting a gray across the town as Kate veered into the parking lot at the town hall. Some of the older businesses had fallen into disrepair. Awnings and buildings needed painting, as if they, too, felt the weight of the town’s burden. Even the town hall needed a facelift.
Trees swayed in the wind, scattering dust and debris; a soda can someone had discarded rolled across the street. Cars and trucks filled the lot, indicating a crowd had showed up for the meeting.
A frisson of nerves slithered through Kate. She hoped the attendees were congenial but braced herself for animosity. The climate over the changes she’d proposed and pushed through had created an avalanche of mixed reactions for months.
Shoulders knotted, she scanned the parking lot in search of trouble. People gathered on the steps to the building, while others hovered beneath the live oaks, hunched in conversation.
The cryptic message she’d received replayed in her mind. She leaned her forehead against her steering wheel and inhaled a calming breath.
It was your fault.
God... She had blamed herself so many times for her mother’s death. For Ned going ballistic.
Two days before the shooting, he’d invited her to the school dance. She’d been so engrossed in studying for her SATs that she’d said no without giving it a second thought.
According to Ned’s brother Billy, her rejection had tipped him over the edge.
A car honked and she jerked her head up. A red Trans Am veered into the parking lot, tires squealing. Billy Hodgkins threw open the door, unfolded his beefy body from the front of the car, and strode toward the door, pulling at his wooly beard. The scowl on his face sent chills down her spine. Billy and his family had moved away a few months after the shooting to escape the negative publicity and hate in the town.
But she’d never forgotten his accusations.
A gust of wind whipped at her car, and thunder rumbled in the distance. She checked her watch. Time to go inside and face the crowd.
Her mother’s last words echoed in her head. Be strong, Kate. Make something good come of this.
She couldn’t make anything good come of it. But she could try to help people move past the pain and concentrate on the future.
Another gust of wind swirled around her as she slid from her car, and she shoved her hair from her face. Determined to remain positive, she strode up the steps to the town hall and went inside. Voices and chatter rumbled from the main meeting room, and a family passed her as they entered. She took another breath, pasted on a smile and ducked into the room.
The town council members and Amy Turner, the former school counselor and head of the memorial committee, were seated on stage at the front of the room, where a seat awaited her. Amy had been in her midthirties when the shooting occurred. Like many others, she felt responsible for not recognizing the depth of Ned’s depression.
She’d also reached out to Kate after her mother’s death and had helped her through the grieving process.
Mayor Gaines was addressing the council as she hurried down the side aisle. Chatter and voices reverberated around her. An argument heated up somewhere near the back, and she saw Billy trying to push his way past two other men blocking his entry.
Sheriff Stone Lawson was perched in the rear by one of the doors. His deputy, Murphy Bridges, stood on the opposite side, braced to handle problems if tempers escalated out of control. Stone and Murphy had been classmates and now worked to maintain order in the town.
As Billy entered, he aimed a menacing look toward Kate.
Fear fluttered in her belly as she took her seat.
Be strong, Kate.
I’m trying, Mama.
Mayor Gaines called the meeting to order then introduced the council members. “Tonight, we’re here to discuss the plans for our new school. As you all know, due to the dilapidated state of the high school and the costly repairs necessary to ensure the safety of our children’s health, the town council approved the funding for a new facility a while back and the new building is almost finished.”
Disgruntled whispers floated through the room. Kate surveyed the group. The parents of the victims who’d died that day were present, along with family members of the ones injured. Brynn sat in the front row by her mother, her face pale, hands clenched around the arms of her wheelchair.
Kate’s heart gave a pang. She missed their friendship. But when she’d dropped by the hospital to see Brynn after the shooting, Mrs. Gaines had warned Kate to stay away from Brynn. She’d tried to visit multiple times those first few months and over the years, but Mrs. Gaines had repeatedly claimed Brynn didn’t want to see her.
The woman’s animosity only intensified Kate’s guilt. How could Brynn forgive her for causing Ned to shoot up the school and put her in that wheelchair?
Taking deep breaths to control her emotions, she continued to scan the room.
Riggs Benford was seated behind Brynn. His big body exuded sexuality and was a palpable force of strength and energy in the room.
Kate dragged her gaze away from him. She’d always had a crush on him, but Riggs was brooding one minute and a player the next. She’d put him in the off-limits category long ago. A place where he would always stay. The fact that he’d abandoned his teenage girlfriend when she was pregnant disturbed her. But he was a kid at the time and his behavior could be forgiven.
The fact that he’d never taken responsibility for his son couldn’t.
Her own father had done the same thing to her. Even though she’d never known him, it hurt to think he hadn’t wanted her.
Still, Riggs wasn’t all bad. He’d overcome his own injury, one that had ended his hopes of a soccer scholarship, and now he ran into burning buildings to save others.
The mayor gestured to a man seated in the front row, drawing her attention back to the meeting.
“Local builder and developer Carlton Ethridge has worked with us as an architect on the designs. Many of you already know Realtor Ling Wu, who grew up right here in Briar Ridge. Ling helped us secure a nice piece of property that offers room for growth in the future.”
Someone made a rude noise. Mayor Gaines tensed. “I’m aware some of you have reservations about tearing down the old school, but please hear Principal McKendrick out. She cares about our community and our children.” He tipped his head toward Kate.
She maneuvered her way to the podium, gripped the edge to steady herself, then forced a smile.
“First of all, I appreciate the fact that so many of you came tonight. I understand the town has been divided emotionally over this issue, but I believe a new building will facilitate goodwill and positive changes for all the residents and future visitors.”
“You just want to forget what happened,” someone shouted.
“That’s not true,” Kate said. “I was a student at Briar Ridge High myself. My own mother, a teacher at the school, died during the massacre. I can never forget what happened that day, nor do I believe that any of us should.” Her voice rose, filled with conviction. “Lives were not only lost, but families and friendships ripped apart. Students suffered emotional trauma as well as physical injuries. None of us will ever be the same.”
“That school is a monument to the ones who didn’t survive,” a woman cried. “My son was one of them.”
Kate’s heart ached for the woman, Linda Russell. Her sixteen-year-old son Hughie had had dreams of med school. Yet the building was falling apart just as the town was. “I understand that, and we’re creating another memorial for the victims and their families at the new building, one I think you’ll all be proud of. We plan to reveal the details at the dedication ceremony.”
She glanced across the group, that cryptic message haunting her. Had someone in this room sent it?