Блейк Пирс: Watching

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.