Wolf

by Kelly Oliver

  She was hot and a cool evening breeze sounded good. But she wasn’t going anywhere with this Existentialist weasel. Without thinking, she downed her punch. Crap! She couldn’t bring herself to do a bulimic number in the bathroom. Could they have poisoned all of the punch? Everyone was drinking it. No way the entire punchbowl could be spiked with Roofies.

  Quarterback Kurt Willis appeared out of nowhere, and slapped Alexander on the back, almost knocking him down. The lumbering quarterback was wearing his XXL varsity football jacket.

  “Well if it isn’t Little Miss Hottie.” Kurt was licking her with his eyes again, making her want to take a scalding shower. When she tried heading for the door, Kurt held her by the arm.

  “Hey, Zander, got anything for me?” she overheard Kurt yell into his ear over the noise of the party. Alexander opened his jacket and pointed to his inside pocket. “You mean Boris?”

  “Boris, my BFF!” Jessica was queasy--probably the company--so she jerked her arm away from brute, and headed into the crowd.

  Maybe Amber was on the dance floor. Sucked into the throbbing throng of dancers, Jessica’s head was pounding and the room started spinning. She had to get outside into the fresh air.

  Before she understood what was happening, someone had lifted her off her feet from behind. Her vision was blurred, but she recognized Kurt the quarterback’s thick arms and strong Old Spice deodorant. Struggling to free herself, Jessica elbowed him in the chest and kicked her legs. But it was no use. She was fading in and out of consciousness and he was just too strong.

  As he carried her through the crowd, she tried to scream, but only gasped. The music was deafening, so even if she could scream at the top of her lungs, no one would hear her. The quarterback carried her through the front door, and her limbs were heavy and everything was off kilter as she gazed back at the party wishing someone would help her.

  Cool night air prickled her face, and the noise from the party was fading. Streaks of light zipped past. Swooshing sounds. She could hear the pounding of her heart in her ears. Something had her in a tight grip. She was caught. She tried to kick her feet, but they wouldn’t move. It was as if someone had cut the nerves that sent signals from her brain to her limbs. She smelled alcohol on Kurt’s breath, almost barfed. Where was he taking her? Warm tears were running over her temples into her ears.

  She heard yelling and then a cracking sound. A loud explosion went off close to her ears, and her head smacked into the ground. Pain. Lots of pain. The wet grass was cold against her cheek, and she tried to burrow into the dirt, clawing at the earth, digging to escape. She was aware of dull thuds and then sensed vibrations on the ground beneath her. Someone was running, running away.

  A hand touched her on the shoulder. Startled, she tried to pull herself up, but paralyzed she couldn’t move her limbs. She heard her name. Ms. James. Ms. James. The buzzing baritone was familiar. Detective Cormier? The hand was now stroking her hair, and the bass voice was soothing. Jessica tried to hold onto it, but couldn’t. “Amber,” she whispered. “Find Amber.” Everything went black.

  Part Three

  Chapter Thirty-One

  "Where’s Amber?” Jessica heard her own voice as if it were someone else's. Slowly, the room came into focus. Northwestern University Hospital. She made out voices, soft women’s voices, and followed them with her eyes. Lolita and Amber, whispering back and forth, were wearing the same clothes they’d worn to the fraternity party. The party. Oh no, Kurt Willis. The last thing she remembered was feeling dizzy and being carried outside.

  “What happened?” Jessica asked.

  A familiar baritone voice replied, “You were drugged with GHB at the Tau Kappa Epsilon Fraternity. Fourteen other girls and eight boys have also been hospitalized.”

  “Detective Cormier?” she asked. She was unclothed except for her flimsy hospital gown, and even under the blanket, she was shivering. So many clothed people standing around staring at her, especially the handsome detective, was awkward.

  “We apprehended Kurt Willis outside the TKE house. How do you feel?” the detective asked, moving closer to the bed and looked down at her with a warm smile.

  “Like I’ve been bucked off a bull and then trampled,” Jessica answered. “Did he…” her voice trailed off, tears pooling in her eyes as she looked down at the bed covers. Why did she drink that punch? She was so ashamed she wished she could disappear.

  “Luckily, the detective tackled Kurt before he got very far,” Lolita said. “That rapist quarterback has made his last pass.”

  “How did you know?” Jessica asked. “Why were…”

  “Truth be told, I’ve been following you since our chat at the police station,” Detective Cormier interrupted. “I saw the big guy carrying you and you were struggling. When I shouted at him, he dropped you and ran.”

  “Of course, Kurt’s not locked up where he belongs,” Lolita said. “Mommy and daddy bailed him out this morning.”

  “I assure you that with your help Ms. James, we’ll take the case against him as far as we can,” said the Detective. “Although he may not have sexually assaulted you--thank God--he did poison and abduct you.”

  “Could I have some water, please?”

  Amber filled up the plastic water pitcher from the sink in the corner of the room, and then filled a little plastic cup, added a straw and handed it to her. She gulped it down and asked for another. No amount of water could quench her thirst or wash away her shame.

  “You are dehydrated from the drugs,” Amber said. “Here, let me give you some electrolyte drops.” When she sat on the edge of the narrow bed, Jessica leaned closer to her friend for warmth. Jessica opened her mouth, a baby bird waiting to be fed.

  Amber took out a vial from her mammoth purse, extracted a cobalt blue glass vial, unscrewed the black rubber dropper, and counted out 15 drops into her awaiting mouth. The “medicine” tasted bitter, but Amber’s sweet touch was all she really needed. She couldn’t help herself. She was crying.

  Amber put her arm around her. “There, there sweetie,” she cooed. “It will be okay.”

  “Where were you?” Jessica asked through her tears. “I went back to find you and you were gone.” Turns out Amber had left the party with some nerdy guy on Northwestern’s chess team to play a game of chess in his dorm room.

  “When I ran out of vitamin K, I looked for you guys. On the dance floor I led a few of those A-hole frat boys through the K-hole,” she said with a giggle. “But I couldn’t find you. So I left a note for Jackie in the car.” She pulled one of her serpentine locks into her mouth and started sucking on it. “He was still asleep. So I left with Gary.” Her makeup from the night before was a swirling mask. Blue and black streaks had smeared down her cheeks and her once adorable kumquat mouth had become a shriveled apricot. Her breasts were spilling out of her plunging neckline, and strange uneven brown streaks stained her emerald skirt. Bloodstains?

  “That geek didn’t hurt you, did he?” Jessica took a tissue from her tray, spit on it, and began wiping at Amber’s cheeks.

  “Who? Gary?” Amber asked, closing her eyes. “Of course not.”

  “Well what’s that on your dress? It looks like blood.”

  “Don’t be silly. Gary invented a new dessert called Twisted Twix. You smash Cheetos Twists and Twix bars in a bowl, then mix them with honey. It’s scrumptious.”

  “What about your campaign against processed sugar?” Jessica asked.

  “Honey is an antiviral and antibacterial, and chocolate is an antioxidant. So it’s practically a health food!” Amber smiled. “Don’t worry, I took some detox drops this morning.”

  Jessica shook her head and her matted hair flopped from side to side. “So you ate this stuff and then what? Did he make any moves on you?”

  “Of course he made moves, we were playing chess. I took his queen and won.” Amber waved her small fists in the air in a victory celebration.

  Jessica smiled. Amber, idiot savant chess champion. She ceased Amb
er’s warm hand mid air and held it in both of hers.

  “Girls, sorry to interrupt, but could I speak to Ms. James alone?” Detective Cormier turned to Jessica, “I need to ask you some questions, if you’re up for it.”

  She nodded, and then her friends both hugged her and left the room.

  Alone with the cute detective, Jessica became self-conscious again about her nakedness. She pulled the blankets up under her armpits and sat up in bed. She was plugged into an IV machine, so every time she moved the needle stabbed her in the crook of her arm, and somehow she was both hungry and queasy at the same time.

  As if her thoughts had conjured breakfast, an orderly brought in a tray and sat it on the wheeled bed table. She tentatively lifted the heavy brown plastic lid to see what lurked underneath. It had to be more appetizing than the thick brown bowl of gluey oatmeal insulated with sweaty plastic wrap.

  “Why were you following me?”

  “It’s not every day I interrogate a girl with a gun hidden between her legs.” Detective Cormier smiled. “Seriously, why were you carrying a weapon?”

  She blushed. “How did…”

  “Surveillance video. Standard procedure during questioning,” Detective Cormier interrupted.

  “It’s not my gun. I just found it in my pocket.”

  “You found someone else’s gun in your pocket?” The detective narrowed his eyebrows.

  “Actually, it wasn’t really my pocket either.” She stared down at the blankets.

  “Not your gun, not your pocket,” Detective Cormier said. “Whose are they then?”

  “The jacket and the gun belong to Nicholas Schilling,” she said. “I mean, Nicholas Charis.”

  “Which is it Ms. James?” Detective Cormier was no longer smiling. He took out his notepad and began writing. He had wheeled over the chair from the corner of the hospital room and was sitting next to the bed, so close Jessica could smell the lemony scent of his aftershave. The scent helped calm her stomach.

  She glanced at the breakfast tray. Amber must have ordered her meal because the milk was chocolate flavored. She hadn’t had chocolate milk since she was a kid, a delicious surprise. Thank you Amber. She made a mental note to buy chocolate milk if she ever had a kitchen or refrigerator again.

  “Schilling or Charis?” the detective demanded.

  “Actually, he goes by both names. His father is also called Nicholas Schilling, so he uses his mother’s maiden name Charis as well,” she said. “He’s an art history professor at Northwestern.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  “I broke up with my boyfriend last week.” Jessica fiddled with the bedcovers.

  “What is your relationship with this Schilling or Charis? And why did you have his gun? Why did you bring it to the police station?”

  “He lent me his jacket and I didn’t know the gun was in the pocket,” she said. “Those cops… uh, officers, rushed me out…”

  “I see,” said the detective. “You didn’t feel the gun in the pocket?”

  “No, it was so tiny and everything happened so fast,” she said. “Nick gave me his jacket because I was only wearing, uh, I was cold.”

  Jessica hadn’t thought of Nick Schilling, or Charis, yet this morning, even though she’d been wearing his jacket day and night.

  He’d been sending her enticing email messages inviting her to art openings and cocktail receptions. But she’d ignored them. It didn’t seem right to go on a date with one of her professors. At least she hoped they would be dates.

  Of course, if they weren’t dates, then why not? She sometimes met other professors for coffee or even drinks. Maybe it was all completely innocent. Maybe she should accept if he invited her again. An art opening would count as a field trip since he was an art history professor and a working dinner would be perfectly normal.

  “Ms. James, did you hear me?” The detective’s deep voice broke through her daydreaming. “I asked why this professor would have a gun.”

  “I have no idea.” One of the most attractive men she’d ever met was a billionaire art collector and university professor who carried a mini revolver to high stakes poker games. He led a double-life as his father’s heir, a wealthy playboy, and a mama’s boy passionate about art.

  She was relieved when the detective changed the subject. He asked her what happened at the fraternity party and what she knew about drugs on campus.

  “For the last year, I’ve been trying to bust a Russian mafia ring supplying rape drugs to colleges. I’ve been following the local campus dealers all the way back to the source, and I’m determined to stop the drugs feeding the campus rape epidemic. I think there’s a connection between the GHB in the punch at the fraternity house and Professor Schmutzig’s overdose,” Detective Cormier said.

  “What? How?” Chocolate milk dribbled from her straw down her chin. She wiped it off with the back of her hand and decided she’d had enough breakfast.

  “The coroner is about to release a report indicating Professor Schmutzig was poisoned with GHB. The coroner found traces on his lips and we found it in a Starbucks cup taken from his office.”

  “Did you say it was in his cup?” She thought of the latte Alexander had brought and of Jack out cold in his car. Then she remembered the diary. The last entry said Alexander was bringing gifts. Should she tell the detective about the diary? How they’d stolen it? Donnette would be devastated. She believed Wolf’s secrets were buried forever along with his body.

  “We’re now convinced that Professor Schmutzig must have been murdered,” Cormier said. “He didn’t die from a heroin overdose. He died from a deadly dose of GHB. We suspect the GHB we found in the professor’s body and the GHB at the party come from the same source.”

  “Murdered? But what does…did Wolf have to do with rape drugs on campus? You mean one of the frat boys murdered Professor Schmutzig?” Her brain was throbbing and she couldn’t think straight. The lecherous Professor Wolfgang Schmutzig had been murdered with a rape-drug.

  “We mean to find out.” Detective Cormier was passionate when he talked about the rape epidemic, and his impassioned speech reminded her of Lolita. The two of them should team up. They would make a wrong righting, injustice fighting, power duo to wipe out sexual assault on campus.

  Jessica cringed remembering the bloody scene in the gazebo and sloppy second’s gushing nose and broken jaw after Lolita kicked him in the face.

  “What happened to the guys Lolita caught with Emily?” Jessica asked.

  “They were taken into custody. Miss Durchenko incapacitated three more potential sex offenders who were arrested last night as well. And seems your other friend poisoned several others with a drug called Ketamine, also associated with campus rape.”

  “Is Emily okay? And the other poisoned girls?” Fourteen girls, all stamped with the Red X. TKE must have set a record for most incapacitated “rape-bait” in one night.

  “Yes thankfully they’ve all recovered. But those fraternity brothers who tangled with your friend weren’t so lucky. They’re going to be nursing more than bruised egos, perhaps for the rest of their lives.”

  “What do you mean?” She wondered if Lolita could be charged with battery.

  “One of them has teeth missing and broken ribs. Another has a broken jaw and nose. One has head injuries and a concussion. And they all have contusions on their faces and bruised groins. She gave them a beating they won’t soon forget.” The detective tried to repress a smile. “And, seems they accidently drank some of their own spiked punch.”

  “Is Lolita in trouble?”

  “Those guys are too embarrassed about getting beaten up by a girl to press charges,” he said. “And they were injured while attempting to commit felony crimes. The entire fraternity is charged with conspiracy to drug and rape.”

  Victory. Jessica mentally pumped her fist.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  When Jessica returned to Brentano Hall, she discovered someone had broken into her attic hovel and rifled
through her stuff. Panicked, she ran straight for the desk, opened the bottom drawer, but there it was, right where she’d left it, her computer. Student papers were scattered all over the room, and her great-grandmother’s dresses had been thrown out of their box into a pile.

  The case to her bass was open, but the instrument was still there. As she folded the dresses and then gathered the papers, she wondered how this week could get any stranger. The fact that the burglar didn’t take anything made it even creepier. Maybe she should move over to Lolita’s dorm room and sleep on the floor next to Emo’s bed. Or maybe she could stay with Amber in her tiny studio apartment and put up with permanent fixture, Jack.

  Was Jack okay? He’d drunk her latte and then passed out at the party, probably not a coincidence. She should take the rest of that coffee to be tested for drugs. Alexander must have spiked it. She winced remembering she’d barely escaped becoming Kurt Willis’s next victim.

  Thank God Detective Cormier had been following her. She hunted for the Starbuck’s cup, but it was gone. Maybe Dmitry had thrown it out. She went to the janitor’s closet to ask about it and found him in an intense discussion with Lolita.

  “I was just coming to find you,” Lolita said. “We need you to help us with Donnette.”

  “Dmitry, did you take a Starbucks cup from the attic?” Jessica asked.

  “I never take anything that doesn’t belong to me, Miss Jessica.”

  “No, it was trash, but it’s important that I find it,” she said.

  “I haven’t cleaned your room yet,” he replied.

  “Where’s Jack?” Jessica asked.

  “How should I know?” Lolita said. “Probably at Amber’s.”

  Jessica tapped her cell phone awake and called Jack. He sounded awful. She invited him to treat her to a late lunch at The Blind Faith Café. All she’d eaten so far today was the chocolate milk at the hospital. He agreed to meet her there in an hour.

  “Will you help us with Donnette?” Lolita asked. “We need to get the key to the professor’s office, just for a few minutes. If anyone can do it you can.”