Watching
Riley was yanked back to the present by the sound of approaching sirens. The local cops were arriving.
She felt relief that the authorities were here and could take over … whatever it was that had to be done.
She saw that boys who lived on the second floor were coming down and asking the girls what was going on. They were also in various stages of dress—shirts and jeans, pajamas and robes.
Harry Rampling, the football player who had approached Riley back at the bar, made his way toward where she was standing against the closed door. He pushed past the girls still hovering there and stared at her for a moment.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.
Riley said nothing. She saw no point in trying to explain—not with the police about to appear at any second.
Harry smirked a little and took a menacing step toward Riley. He’d obviously been told about the dead girl inside.
“Get out of the way,” he said. “I want to see.”
Riley stood even more firmly than before.
“You can’t go in there,” she said.
Harry said, “Why not, little girl?”
Riley stared daggers at him, but she was wondering …
What the hell do I think I’m doing?
Did she really think she could keep a male athlete from going in there if he decided to?
Oddly enough, she had the feeling that she probably could.
She’d certainly put up a fight, if it came to that.
Fortunately, she heard the clatter of footsteps entering the hall, then a man’s voice calling out …
“Break it up. Let us through.”
The clump of students broke up.”
Someone said, “Over there,” and three uniformed cops made their way toward Riley.
She recognized all of them. They were familiar faces around Lanton. Two of them were men, Officers Steele and White. The other was a woman, Officer Frisbie. A couple of campus cops were also tagging along.
Steele was overweight, and his reddish face made Riley suspect that he drank too much. White was a tall guy who walked with a constant slouch and whose mouth always seemed to be hanging open. Riley didn’t think he seemed especially bright. Officer Frisbie was a tall, sturdy woman who had always struck Riley as friendly and good-natured.
“We got a call,” Officer Steele said. He huffed at Riley. “What the hell’s going on here?”
Riley stepped away from the door and pointed to it.
“It’s Rhea Thorson,” Riley said. “She’s—”
Riley found that she couldn’t finish the sentence. She was still trying to get it through her head that Rhea was dead.
She just stepped aside.
Officer Steele opened the door and slouched past her into the room.
Then came a loud gasp as he exclaimed …
“Oh my God!”
Officers Frisbie and White both hurried inside.
Then Steele reappeared and called out to the onlookers, “I need to know what happened. Right now.”
There was a general murmur of alarmed confusion.
Then Steele fired a series of questions. “What do you know about this? Was this girl in her room all evening? Who else was here?”
More confusion followed, with some girls saying that Rhea hadn’t left the dorm, others saying that she went to the library, others that she’d gone out on a date, and of course a few who said that she’d gone out drinking. Nobody had seen anybody else here. Not until they heard Heather screaming.
Riley took a breath, getting ready to shout the others down and tell what she knew. But before she could speak, Harry Rampling pointed at Riley and said …
“This girl’s been acting all weird. She was standing right there when I got here. Like maybe she’d just come out the door.”
Steele stepped toward Riley and growled …
“Is that right? You’ve got some explaining to do. Start talking.”
He seemed to be reaching for his handcuffs. For the first time, Riley started to feel a trace of panic.
Is this guy going to arrest me? she wondered.
She had no idea what might happen if he did.
But the woman cop said sharply to Officer Steele, “Leave her alone, Nat. Can’t you see what she was doing? She was guarding the room, making sure nobody else got in. We’ve got her to thank that the crime scene isn’t hopelessly contaminated.”
Officer Steele backed away, looking resentful.
The woman shouted to the onlookers, “I want everybody to stay exactly where you are. Nobody moves, d’you hear? And keep talking to a minimum.”
There were nods and murmurs of assent from the group.
Then the woman grabbed Riley by the arm and started to escort her away from the others.
“Come with me,” she whispered sharply to Riley. “You and I are going to have a little talk.”
Riley gulped anxiously as Officer Frisbie led her away.
Am I really in trouble? she wondered.
CHAPTER THREE
Officer Frisbie kept a firm grip on Riley’s arm the whole way down the hall. They went through a pair of double doors and wound up standing at the base of the stairs. At last the woman released her.
Riley rubbed her arm where it hurt a little.
Officer Frisbie said, “Sorry to get rough there. We’re in kind of a hurry. First of all, what’s your name?”
“Riley Sweeney.”
“I’ve seen you around town. What year are you in college?”
“A senior.”
The woman’s stern expression softened a little.
“Well, first of all, I want to apologize for how Officer Steele talked to you just now. Poor guy, he really can’t help it. It’s just that he’s … what’s the word my daughter would use? Oh, yeah. A dick.”
Riley was too startled too laugh. Anyway, Officer Frisbie wasn’t smiling.
She said, “I pride myself on having pretty reliable gut instincts—better than the ‘good old boys’ I’m stuck working with, anyway. And right now my gut is saying that you’re the one person around here who might be able to tell me exactly what I need to know.”
Riley felt another wave of panic as the unsmiling woman took out a notepad and got ready to write.
She said, “Officer Frisbie, I really have no idea—”
The woman interrupted her.
“You might be surprised. Just go ahead—tell me about what your night’s been like.”
Riley was puzzled.
What my night’s been like?
What did that have to do with anything?
“From the beginning,” Frisbie said.
Riley replied slowly, “Well, I was sitting in my room trying to study, because I’ve got a class tomorrow morning, but my roommate, Trudy, and my friend Rhea …”
Riley suddenly fell silent.
My friend Rhea.
She remembered sitting on her bed while Trudy and Rhea had been across the room doing their nails and playing Gloria Estefan too loud and generally making nuisances of themselves, trying to get Riley to go out with them. Rhea had been so lively—laughing and mischievous.
No more.
She’d never hear Rhea’s laugh or see her smile again.
For the first time since this horrible thing had happened, Riley felt close to tears. She sagged against the wall.
Not now, she told herself sternly.
She straightened up and took a deep breath and continued.
“Trudy and Rhea talked me into going to the Centaur’s Den.”
Officer Frisbie gave Riley an encouraging nod and said, “About what time was this?”
“Around nine-thirty, I think.”
“And was it just the three of you who went out?”
“No,” Riley said. “Trudy and Rhea got some other girls to come. There were six of us all together.”
Officer Frisbie was jotting down notes quickly now.
“Tell me their names,” she said.
Riley didn’t have to stop to think.
“There was me—and Trudy Lanier and Rhea, of course. And Cassie DeBord, and Gina Formaro, and Rhea’s roommate, Heather Glover.”
She stood there silently for a moment.
There must be more, she thought. Surely she could remember something more to tell the police. But her brain seemed stuck on her immediate group—and on the image of her friend dead in that room.
Riley was about to explain that she hadn’t spent much time with the others at the Centaur’s Den. But before she could say anything else, Officer Frisbie abruptly put her pencil and notebook back in her pocket.
“Well done,” she said, sounding very businesslike. “That’s exactly what I needed to know. Come on.”
As Officer Frisbie led her back into the hallway, Riley wondered …
“Well done”?
What did I even do?
The situation in the hall was the same as before, with a small mob of stunned and horrified students standing around while Officer White looked on. But there were two new arrivals.
One was Dean Angus Trusler, a finicky and easily agitated man who was mingling among the students, getting some of them to tell him what was going on despite their orders not to talk.
The other newcomer was a tall, vigorous-looking older man wearing a uniform. Riley recognized him at once. He was Lanton’s police chief, Allan Hintz. Riley noticed that Officer Frisbie didn’t look surprised to see him—but she didn’t look at all pleased, either.
Standing arms akimbo, he said to Frisbie, “Mind telling us why you’re keeping us waiting, Frisbie?”
Officer Frisbie tossed him a look of barely disguised disdain. It was obvious to Riley that their working relationship was strained at best.
“I’m glad to see someone got you out of bed, sir,” Officer Frisbie said.
Chief Hintz frowned.
Trying his best to look as authoritative as the police chief, Dean Trusler stepped forward and spoke to Hintz sharply.
“Allan, I don’t like the way you and your people are handling this. These poor kids are terrorized enough without being bossed around. What’s this all about—telling them to stay put and stay quiet, with no explanations? Some of them just want to go back to their rooms and try to get some sleep. Some want to get out of Lanton altogether and go home to their families for a while—and who can blame them? Some even wonder if they need to hire lawyers. It’s time you told them what you want from them. Surely none of our students are suspects.”
As the dean kept ranting, Riley wondered how he could be so sure that the murderer wasn’t right here in the hallway. She found it hard to imagine any of the girls committing such a horrible crime. But what about the guys? What about a big tough jock like Harry Rampling? Neither he nor any of the other guys looked like they’d just slashed a girl’s throat. But maybe after a shower and a quick change of clothes …?
Steady, Riley told herself. Don’t let your imagination run away with you.
But if it wasn’t a student, then who could have been in Rhea’s room?
She struggled again to remember if she had seen anyone else with Rhea at the Centaur’s Den. Had Rhea danced with any guy? Had a drink with someone? But Riley still came up with nothing.
Anyway, questions like that didn’t seem to matter. Chief Hintz wasn’t listening to a word Dean Trusler was saying. Officer Frisbie was whispering to him and showing him the notes she’d taken while talking to Riley.
When she finished, Hintz said to the group, “OK, listen up. I want five of you to come to the common room.”
He rattled off the names Riley had given to Officer Frisbie, including her own.
Then he said, “The rest of you, go to your rooms. Guys, that means go back to your floor. Everybody stay put for the night. Don’t go outside this building until you’re notified otherwise. And don’t plan on leaving the campus anytime soon. We’re likely to have questions for many of you.”
He turned to the dean and said, “Make sure all the students in the building get the same message.”
The dean’s mouth was hanging open with dismay now, but he managed to nod his assent. The hall was filled with murmurs of confused dissatisfaction as the girls obediently dispersed to their rooms and the guys headed back upstairs.
Chief Hintz and Officers Frisbie and White led Riley and her four friends down the hall. Along the way, Riley couldn’t help but glance into Rhea’s room. She glimpsed Officer Steele probing around inside. She couldn’t see the bed where she had found Rhea, but she was sure that the body was still there.
It didn’t seem right somehow.
How long till they take her away? she wondered. She hoped they had at least covered her up, hidden the horrible slashed throat and open eyes from view. But she supposed the investigators had more important things to attend to. And maybe they were all used to such sights anyhow.
She was sure that she would never forget the sight of Rhea dead and that pool of blood on the floor.
Riley and the others went obediently into the well-furnished common room and sat down on various chairs and sofas.
Chief Hintz said, “Officer Frisbie and I are going to talk with each of you individually. While we do, I don’t want any of the rest of you to talk to each other. Not one word. Do you hear me?”
Without even glancing at each other, the girls nodded nervously.
“And for now, don’t even use your phones,” Hintz added.
They all nodded again, then just sat there staring at their hands, at the floor, or off into space.
Hintz and Frisbie led Heather into the adjoining dorm kitchen while Officer White stood slouching vigilantly over Riley, Trudy, Cassie, and Gina.
After a few moments, Trudy broke the silence. “Riley, what the hell—?”
White interrupted, “Be quiet. Chief’s orders.”
Silence fell again, but Riley saw that Trudy, Cassie, and Gina were all staring at her. She looked away.
They think it’s my fault they’re here, she realized.
Then she thought—maybe it was true, maybe she shouldn’t have spilled their names. But what was she supposed to do, lie to a police officer? Still, Riley hated the distrustful vibes she was getting from her friends. And she couldn’t really blame them for feeling that way toward her.
What kind of trouble are we in, anyway? she wondered. Just for going out together?
She was especially worried about Heather, who was still in the kitchen answering questions. The poor girl had been especially close to her roommate, Rhea. Of course, this was a nightmare for everybody, but Riley couldn’t begin to imagine how hard it must be for Heather.
Soon they heard the dean’s voice stammering uneasily over the dorm’s PA system.
“This is Dean Trusler. I—I’m sure all of you know by now that something terrible just happened on the girls’ floor. You have orders from Police Chief Hintz to stay in your rooms tonight and not leave the dorm. A police officer or a campus official might come by your room to talk with you. Be sure to answer any and all questions. For now, don’t plan on leaving campus tomorrow, either. You’ll all be getting additional notification soon.”
Riley remembered something else the chief had said …
“We’re likely to have questions for many of you.”
He was starting with Riley and the other four girls right now.
It was starting to make sense to her. After all, they’d been together with Rhea shortly before she was killed. But what did Hintz think the girls might know?
What does he think I might know? she wondered.
Riley couldn’t imagine.
At last, Heather came out of the kitchen, accompanied by Officer Frisbie. Heather looked pale and sick, as if she might start vomiting again. Riley wondered—where was Heather going to spend the night? She couldn’t very well go back to the room she had shared with Rhea.
As if overhearing Riley’s thoughts, Officer Frisbie said, “Heather is going to spend the rest of the night in the RA’s room.”
Heather walked shakily out of the common room. Riley was glad to see that the resident assistant met her at the doorway.
Officer Frisbie called for Gina to come into the kitchen, where Hintz was still waiting. Gina got up stiffly and followed the woman through the swinging door, leaving Riley, Trudy, and Cassie sitting in uncomfortable silence. It seemed to Riley that time had slowed down as they waited.
Finally, Gina reemerged. Without a word to the others, she walked through the common room and out the other door. Then Officer Frisbie asked for Cassie, who went next into the kitchen.
Now there were only Riley and Trudy sitting there in chairs across from each other. As they waited, Trudy kept giving Riley angry and reproachful glances. Riley wished she could explain what she had said during her short conversation with Officer Frisbie. All she’d done was answer a simple question. She hadn’t accused anyone of doing anything bad.
But Officer White was still looming over them, and Riley couldn’t say a single word.
Finally, Cassie came out of the kitchen and went back to her room, and Trudy was next to be called into the kitchen.
Riley was now alone with Officer White, feeling isolated and afraid.
With nothing to distract her, she kept flashing back to poor Rhea’s body, her wide open eyes, and the pool of blood. Now those images were mixed with memories of her own mother lying dead—so long ago, but still so horribly vivid in her mind.
How could something like that be happening here and now, in a college dormitory?
This can’t be real, she thought.
Surely she wasn’t really sitting here bracing herself to answer questions that she couldn’t possibly know the answers to.
Surely one of her best friends hadn’t just been savagely murdered.
She had almost convinced herself of the unreality of the moment when Officer Frisbie led Trudy out of the kitchen. With a sullen expression, Trudy left the common room without so much as a glance at Riley.
Officer Frisbie nodded at Riley, who got up and obediently followed her into the kitchen.
This can’t be happening, she kept telling herself.
CHAPTER FOUR
Riley sat down at the table in the kitchen, across from Chief Hintz. For a moment the chief just stared across at her, holding his pencil over a notepad. Riley wondered if she was supposed to say something.
She glanced up and saw that Officer Frisbie had positioned herself off to one side, leaning against a counter. The woman had a rather sour expression on her face, as if she wasn’t very happy with the interviews. Riley wondered if Frisbie was annoyed by the girls’ responses or by the way her boss had been asking questions.
Finally the chief said, “First of all, did the victim ever give you any reason to think she feared for her safety?”
Riley was jolted by that word …
Victim.
Why couldn’t he just refer to her as Rhea?
But she needed to answer his question.
Her mind raced back over recent conversations, but she only remembered innocuous exchanges like the one she and Trudy and Rhea had had earlier tonight about whether Riley was on the pill.
“No,” Riley said.
“Did anyone wish her ill? Was anyone angry with her recently?”
The very idea seemed odd to Riley. Rhea was—had been—so pleasant and amiable that Riley couldn’t imagine anyone being mad at her for more than a few minutes.
But she wondered …
Did I miss any signs?
And had the other girls told Hintz anything Riley herself didn’t know?
“No,” Riley said. “She got along with pretty much everybody—as far as I knew.”
Hintz paused for a moment.
Then he said, “Tell us what happened when you and your friends arrived at the Centaur’s Den.”
A rush of sensations came back to Riley—Rhea and Trudy physically pushing her through the door into the thick fog of cigarette smoke and the deafening music …
Did she need to get into all that?
No, surely Hintz only wanted to hear bare-boned facts.
She said, “Cassie and Heather and Gina headed straight to the bar. Trudy wanted me to dance with her and Rhea.”
Hintz was reviewing notes he’d taken from the other girls, who of course had told him what they’d known about Riley’s actions, including the fact that Riley had left them to go downstairs.
“But you didn’t dance with them,” he said.
“No,” Riley said.
“Why not?”
Riley was startled. Why could her reluctance to dance possibly matter, anyway?
Then she noticed Officer Frisbie giving her a sympathetic look and shaking her head. It seemed obvious now that the woman thought Hintz was being a bit of an asshole, but there really wasn’t anything she could do about it.
Riley said slowly and carefully, “I just … well, I wasn’t in much of a party mood. I’d been trying to study, and Rhea and Trudy had pretty much dragged me there. So I bought a glass of wine and headed on downstairs.”
“Alone?” Hintz asked.
“Yeah, alone. I sat down in a booth by myself.”
Hintz thumbed through his notes.
“So you didn’t talk to anyone else while you were at the Centaur’s Den?”
Riley thought for a moment, then said, “Well, Harry Rampling came over to my table …”
Hintz smiled a little at the mention of Harry’s name. Riley realized that, like most of the community, the chief probably thought pretty highly of the school’s quarterback.
He asked, “Did he sit down with you?”
“No,” Riley said. “I brushed him off.”
Hintz frowned with disapproval, apparently annoyed that any girl would have the poor judgment to reject a true hero like Harry Rampling. Riley was starting to feel a little exasperated. Why was her taste in guys any business of Hintz’s, anyway? What did it have to do with what had happened to Rhea?
Hintz asked, “Did you talk to anyone else?”
Riley gulped.
Yes, she had talked to someone else.
But was she going to get the guy in trouble by talking about him?
She said, “Um … a law student came over to my booth. He sat down with me and we talked for a while.”
“And then?” Hintz asked.
Riley shrugged.
“He said he had studying to do, and he left.”
Hintz was jotting down some notes.
“What was his name?” he asked.
Riley said, “Look, I don’t see why he’s important. He was just another guy at the Centaur’s Den. There’s no reason for you to think—”
“Just answer my question.”
Riley swallowed hard and said, “Ryan Paige.”
“Had you met him before?”
“No.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“No.”
Riley was momentarily glad that Ryan had managed to keep himself so mysterious, without giving her so much as his address or phone number. She saw no reason why she should be answering any questions about him at all, and she sure didn’t want to get him into any trouble. It seemed almost kind of stupid that Hintz was pushing her about it. And Riley could tell by how Officer Frisbie rolled her eyes that she felt the same way.
Hintz tapped his pencil eraser against the table and asked, “Did you see Rhea Thorson with anybody in particular at the Centaur’s Den? Aside from the friends you went with, I mean?”
Riley was starting to feel more frustrated than nervous.
Didn’t Hintz understand anything she’d been saying?
“No,” she said. “Like I said, I went off by myself. I didn’t see Rhea at all after that.”
Hintz kept tapping his eraser, looking at his notes.
He asked, “Does the name Rory Burdon mean anything to you?”
Riley thought quickly.
Rory …
Yes, the first name was familiar, anyway.
She said, “Rhea seemed to be kind of interested in him, I guess. I saw her dancing with him a few other times at the Centaur’s Den.”
“But not tonight?”
Riley fought down a sigh. She wanted to say …
How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t see Rhea at all after I got there?
Instead, she simply said, “No.”
She figured Rory must have been there tonight as well, and that the other girls had told Hintz they’d seen Rhea hanging on him.
“What do you know about him?” Hintz asked.
Riley paused. What little she did know seemed too trivial to mention. Rory was a tall, skinny, awkward guy with thick glasses, and all the girls except Riley had teased Rhea for being interested in him.
She said, “Not much, except he lives off campus somewhere.”
She realized that Hintz was just staring at her again, as if he expected her to say something more.
Does Hintz consider him a suspect? she wondered.
Riley was sure that the chief was way off base if he did suspect Rory. The guy had struck her as shy and gentle, not the least bit aggressive.
She was about to say so to Hintz, but the police chief glanced down at the papers in front of him and moved on with his questions.