Karin Slaughter - A Faint Cold Fear

“Chief,” Brad said, his voice lowered so as not to be rude. Behind him Ellen Schaffer was on her cell phone.

Jeffrey cut his eyes at Brad. Within ten minutes everyone on campus would know exactly what had happened.

Brad winced, understanding the mistake he had made. “Sorry.”

Ellen Schaffer followed the exchange, giving a quick “Gotta go” into her cell phone before ending the call.

She was an attractive young blonde with hazel eyes and one of the most off-putting Yankee accents Jeffrey had heard in a long time. She wore a pair of tight running shorts and an even tighter cropped Lycra shirt. A belt with a CD player sat low on her hips, and an intricately designed sunburst was tattooed in a circle around her belly button.

Jeffrey began, “Ms. Schaffer—”

Schaffer’s voice was more grating than he remembered when she asked, “Is she going to be all right?”

“I think so,” Jeffrey said, though his gut twisted into a knot over the question. Tessa had been unconscious when they loaded her onto the stretcher. There was no telling if she would ever wake up again. He wanted to be with her now—with Sara—but there was nothing Jeffrey could do at the hospital except wait. At least this way he might be able to find some answers for Sara’s family.

Jeffrey asked, “Can you tell me again what happened?”

Schaffer’s lower lip trembled at the question.

He prompted, “You saw the body from the bridge?”

“I was jogging. I always jog in the morning.”

He looked at his watch again. “This exact time?”

“Yes.”

“Always alone?”

“Usually. Sometimes.”

Jeffrey made a conscious effort to be polite when what he really wanted to do was shake the girl and make her tell him what he wanted to know. “You usually jog alone?”

“Yes,” she answered. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you normally take this trail?”

“Normally,” she echoed. “I go down the bridge and then up into the woods. There are paths . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized he must know this.

“So,” he said, getting her back on track, “you jog this same path every day?”

Ellen nodded, a quick up-and-down. “I don’t usually stop at the bridge, but something didn’t feel right. I don’t know why I stopped.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as she considered it. “There are usually birds, nature sounds. It felt too still. Do you know what I mean?”

Jeffrey knew. He had sensed that same eerie feeling when he was running through the woods looking for Sara and Tessa. The only sounds had been those of his own feet pounding into the ground and his heart pounding even more loudly in his head.

Ellen continued, “So I stopped to stretch, and then I looked over the railing—and there he was.”

“You didn’t go down to check on him?”

She looked embarrassed. “I didn’t. . . . Should I have?”

“No,” he said and then, to be kind, added, “it’s better that you didn’t contaminate the scene.”

She seemed relieved. “I could tell . . .” She looked down at her hands, silently crying.

Jeffrey glanced back at the woods, nervous that Matt and Lena were not back by now, especially with the noise the helicopter had made. Sending them out into the forest was probably not one of his better ideas.

Schaffer interrupted his thoughts, asking, “Did he suffer?”

“No,” he assured her, though he had no idea. He said, “We think he jumped from the bridge.”

She seemed surprised. “I just assumed . . .”

He did not give her time to dwell on her feelings. “So you saw him. You called the police. Then what did you do?”

“I stayed on the bridge until the officer got here.” She indicated Brad, who gave a sheepish smile. “Then the others came, and I stayed with him.”

“Did you see anyone else? Someone in the woods?”

“Just the girl going up the hill,” she said.

“Anyone else?”

“No. No one,” she answered, looking over Jeffrey’s shoulder. He turned, seeing Matt and Lena walking out of the woods. Lena was limping, her hands out to the side in case she fell. Matt offered his hand to help her down the hill, but she waved him off.

Jeffrey told Ellen Schaffer, “I’ll follow up with you tomorrow. Thank you for making yourself available.” Then, to Brad, “Make sure she gets back to the dorm.”

“Yes, sir,” Brad said, but Jeffrey was already running up the hill.

The soles of Jeffrey’s loafers slipped on the ground as he ran toward Lena and Matt, but all he could think was that he had jeopardized another woman by sending Lena into the woods. By the time he reached them, remorse was a tight band around his chest. He put his hand under Lena’s arm to help her sit.

“What happened?” Jeffrey asked, feeling like a parrot, thinking he’d asked that question a million times today and still had not gotten a satisfactory answer. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Lena said, shrugging him off so quickly that she fell the rest of the way down. Frank started to help her, taking her arm, but Lena jerked away, saying, “Jesus, I’m all right,” though she winced as her foot touched the ground.

The three men stood transfixed as Lena untied the laces of her shoe, and Jeffrey knew they were feeling the same emotions he was. When he glanced up, both Matt and Frank leveled him with an accusatory glare. Lena could have been seriously hurt in the woods. Whatever had happened to her—and whatever could have happened—was Jeffrey’s fault.

Lena broke the spell, saying, “He was still out there.”

“Where?” Jeffrey asked, feeling his pulse quicken.

“The bastard was hiding behind a tree, looking to see what was going on.”

Frank muttered an angry “Jesus,” but Jeffrey did not know if his anger was for the attacker or for Jeffrey.

“I chased him,” Lena continued, oblivious to the tension, or perhaps just choosing to ignore it. “I tripped on something. A log. I don’t know. I can show you where he was hiding.”

Jeffrey tried to get his head around this. Was the attacker staying around to make sure Tessa got help, or was he watching what happened like a home movie, sucking up the drama?

Frank had an edge to his voice when he asked Matt, “Where were you when all this was happening?”

Matt used the same sharp tone. “We spread out to cover more area. Say, a coupla minutes later, I saw the kid running.”

Frank grumbled, “You shouldn’ta left her in the first place.”

Matt grumbled back, “I was just following procedure.”

“Both of you,” Jeffrey said, trying to stop them. “We don’t have time for this.” He turned his attention to Lena again. “How close was he to the scene?”

“Close,” she said. “Off the trail, about fifty yards away. I backtracked, thinking if he was still hanging around, it’d be close, so he could see the action.”

Jeffrey asked, “Did you get a good look at him?”

“No,” she told him. “He saw me before I saw him. He was crouching behind a tree. Maybe he was getting off on watching Sara freak out.”

“I didn’t ask for speculation,” Jeffrey snapped, not liking the condescending way she had said Sara’s name. Lena had never gotten along with Sara, but now was hardly the time to bring up the grudge, especially considering the state Tessa was in.

He said, “You saw the guy. Then what?”

“I didn’t see him,” she shot back, her anger ignited. Jeffrey realized too late that he had pushed the wrong buttons. He looked to Frank and Matt for help, but their faces were just as hard as Lena’s.

“Go on,” Jeffrey said.

Lena was terse. “I saw a blur. Movement. He stood up and took off. I ran after him.”