Free The Academy (Moving In Series Book 6) by Ron Ripley Page B

fear of God into this punk , Aaron thought happily.
    The footsteps continued to come closer, and soon a man came around the corner of the building. From what Aaron could see, the man wore an old-fashioned hat and a suit, the kind you’d see in a movie about gangsters from the 1930s.
    Aaron was taken aback; usually, he had to deal with kids, or a junkie trying to steal enough in order to score a fix.
    Never regular people, Aaron thought, confused. The grounds of the Academy weren’t closed off, and technically, the man wasn’t doing anything illegal by walking through.
    Suddenly, the man stopped, barely fifteen feet away from where Aaron hid. The stranger turned and looked directly at Aaron in the shadow.
    “What are you doing here?” the man demanded.
    Surprised, Aaron almost answered him. He caught himself quickly, though, and he turned on the flashlight, saying, “I was about to ask you the same question.”
    Aaron was going to add the typical ‘punk’ at the end of the sentence, like in the ‘cop’ movies, but something was off. The flashlight’s powerful beam passed through the man. Aaron could see a tree behind him, and the stranger didn’t cast any shadow.
    The man snarled, and the maglite’s bulb exploded.
    Aaron yelled in surprise, dropped the flashlight and took a nervous step back. He felt sweat burst out under his arms, and for a moment, he lost control of his bladder. With his underwear embarrassingly wet, Aaron shivered, reached back and found the security and safety of the bricks of Adrienne Hall.
    “You better answer my question,” the see-through man spat, taking a large step forward.
    “What?” Aaron asked.
    “Why are you here?”
    “I’m the security guard,” Aaron managed to stutter out.
    “Security guard?” the man said. “What, you’re a cop?”
    “No,” Aaron said, shaking his head. He could hear the anger in the stranger’s voice. The disdain when he had said ‘cop.’ “Not a cop.”
    “Naw,” the man said derisively. “You’re too much of a skirt. You packing?”
    “What? Oh, no,” Aaron said hurriedly, “they don’t let us carry a gun.”
    “Smart,” the stranger said. “You’d only get yourself hurt.”
    The man became silent, and Aaron grew aware of the rapid beating of his heart.
    “Well,” the stranger said finally. “Let’s get this over with.”
    “What?” Aaron asked, “Get what over with?”
    “You,” the man said, coming closer.
    “What about me?” Aaron said, his voice rising in pitch. “Listen, I won’t say anything. I won’t tell anybody I saw a ghost.”
    “But I want you to talk,” the stranger said, grinning. “Just not with your mouth.”
    “What?” Aaron started to ask, but cold fists pounded against his flesh, cutting him off.
    Aaron’s horrified, pain-filled shrieks filled the night air, and the stranger laughed.
    The blows came faster and harder, and soon Aaron was silent.
     

Chapter 25: Bad News, Again
     
    The phone let out its sharp, sleep-destroying ring.
    Mitchell grumbled, sat up, and left the warmth and comfort of his bed. The phone continued its assault on his ears, as he clumsily walked down the hall. He let his right-hand trail along the wall, steadying himself until he came to his home office. He didn’t bother turning on the light. Mitchell crossed the rug to his desk, picked up the phone and said, “Mitchell Roy.”
    “Mr. Roy,” a woman said, “this is Janice DeWolf of A-Plus Security.”
    “Hello Janice,” Mitchell said. “What time is it?”
    “Three-thirty, Mr. Roy,” she replied. Her voice, Mitchell finally noticed, was tight. “We have an issue at the Academy, and you’re listed as the first person to call.”
    “I’m listening,” Mitchell said, his stomach tightening uncomfortably.
    “One of our guards was found beaten to death a short time ago,” she said, and Mitchell could hear the sadness and shock in the woman’s voice. “He didn’t check in, so we sent the foreman out.