by Blake Pierce
She stepped quietly into the room, thinking that Trudy must already be asleep.
But Trudy wasn’t in her bed.
Riley felt a twinge of alarm. Going to the library had been a big deal for Trudy. Surely she hadn’t gone out anywhere tonight.
Is she OK?
Riley flicked on the light switch and saw a note on the table next to the answering machine. She picked it up and read it.
Just went down to the common room to study awhile.
There was a little heart drawn below the message.
Riley breathed a little easier. Trudy was just in the dorm’s big living room at the end of the hall.
But that message machine light was still blinking.
Who had called, anyway? Could it possibly be anyone she would want to talk to?
She sure didn’t want to talk to her father again anytime soon.
Finally she reminded herself that she was being silly and played the tape. She heard a female voice …
“Hey, guys … this is Kyra. I just thought I’d …”
As the voice fell silent for what sounded like an indecisive moment, Riley realized…
Kyra. Rhea’s older sister.
The voice continued …
“I’m sorry to bother you, I just … Give me a call, OK?”
The caller left her phone number, and the message ended with a beep.
Riley remembered Kyra well. She’d graduated from Lanton three years ago, and had come back to visit her younger sister a few times. When she did, she’d also hang out with Riley and Trudy.
She was a robust and hearty young woman with a contagious sense of humor—more like Trudy than her rather reserved younger sister.
Or at least more like Trudy used to be, Riley thought.
But her voice on the tape sounded troubled and worried—which of course was hardly any surprise.
Since the call had just come in twenty minutes ago, Riley figured it wasn’t too late to return it.
She dialed the number and Kyra answered.
“Hey, Kyra,” she said. “This is Riley.”
“Hi, Riley,” Kyra said. “Thanks for getting back to me so fast.”
A silence fell. Although Riley had sent Rhea’s family a card, she guiltily realized she hadn’t gotten in touch with Kyra personally.
Riley stammered, “I’m—I’m so, so sorry about what happened.”
“Yeah,” Kyra said. “How are you coping?”
Riley was startled at the question, coming as it did from Rhea’s own sister.
“Never mind me,” Riley said. “How about you and your folks?”
She heard Kyra heave a deep sigh.
“It’s been really, really rough. I flew home as soon as I heard about it, and Mom and Dad are having an especially hard time. It just doesn’t seem real. I can’t even …”
She fell silent again.
Then she said, “We had a really private funeral service and burial. The whole town was in too much shock to do more than that. But we’re having a little memorial service here at the house this Sunday. It’s going to be really weird for me—the people here will all be family and small-town friends, a lot of folks I haven’t really talked with very much in recent years. I don’t even feel like I know them anymore, and they sure don’t know me. I feel a lot closer to you and Trudy. Actually, I think Rhea did too.”
Riley swallowed hard. She knew what was coming.
Kyra said, “Oh, Riley—I wish the two of you would come too. It would help me a lot.”
Riley didn’t speak for a moment.
Finally she said, “Kyra, Trudy and I don’t have a car, but … there’s bus service between here and Herborn, isn’t there?”
“That’s right. There’s a morning bus from Lanton that will get you here in time. I could meet you at the bus station.”
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy spending the afternoon among Rhea’s grieving friends and relatives.
But she knew she couldn’t refuse.
That would just be wrong.
“Sure, I’ll come,” she said. “I’ll ask Trudy if she’ll come too. Thanks for inviting us.”
“Thank you,” Kyra said, sounding relieved.
As soon as Riley hung up, she wished she’d asked Kyra a few questions. For example, were the police keeping Rhea’s family informed about any progress they were making toward catching her killer? Because Riley hadn’t heard any news to speak of at all, nor had anyone else she knew of.
Maybe she’d have time to talk to Kyra about all that on Sunday.
Anyway Riley had to get Trudy in on this right away. She went to the common room, where Trudy was nestled on a sofa reading a textbook. A few other girls were clustered in front of the TV, watching some kind of late night show. They paid no attention to Riley and Trudy.
Riley sat down next to her roommate.
“Trudy, we just got a call from Kyra.”
Trudy closed her textbook and her eyes widened.
“Oh!” she said. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s … well, you know,” Riley said with a shrug. She really had no idea how to answer that question.
Then Riley said, “Her family in Herborn is having a memorial service on Sunday. We’re both invited.”
Trudy’s mouth dropped open and her face turned pale.
“Oh, Riley,” she said in a near-whisper. “Are you going?”
“I’ve got to, Trudy. So do you. Kyra sounds like she really needs us there.”
Trudy sat staring into space for a moment.
Then she said, “Riley, I can’t. I’m sorry but I just … can’t.”
Riley was shocked.
“Why not?” she asked.
Trudy stammered, “It’s just … I’m still … Riley, you know perfectly well I’m having trouble coping. I’d never be able to get through it. I’d just fall apart and make things worse for everybody.”
Riley was starting to feel a little angry now, but she tried not to show it.
“Trudy, I think … well, maybe it would do you some real good. What do you think your counselor would say? Maybe it’s even what you need. It might give you some …”
“Closure,” Trudy said, finishing Riley’s thought. “Yeah, I know. And you might be right but …”
Her voice faded.
Finally she said in a shaking voice, “I can’t. I really can’t.”
Riley just stood there for a moment, trying to think of some way to persuade Trudy to go to the service with her. But she couldn’t think of anything else to say. She was sure that Trudy wasn’t going to change her mind—not even if she took the next few days to think about it.
Trying to keep a note of bitterness out of her voice, Riley said, “I’ll call Kyra back and tell her—”
“No,” Trudy said. “I’ll get in touch with her. I’m pretty sure I’ve got her email address.”
Riley fought down a sigh. There really wasn’t anything left to say. She left Trudy alone in the common room without saying another word.
On the way back to her room, Riley hesitated and then came to a stop. She stood outside one closed door. She’d been stopping here like this quite a lot during the last couple of weeks. She couldn’t even explain to herself exactly why.
Maybe she hoped she’d get some kind of information, even just a gut feeling, about what had happened inside that room on that terrible night.
But so far, she hadn’t felt much when she stood here, except a sad sense of Rhea’s absence.
And of course, she was sure the door must be locked and she couldn’t go inside even if she wanted to.
As if to prove this to herself, she reached out and held the doorknob.
To Riley’s astonishment, the knob turned easily and the door opened.
Somebody forgot to lock it, she realized.
So, did she actually want to go inside?
Yes, she did.
Riley cautiously stepped into the room and turned on the light. She pulled the door
shut behind her.
The room seemed weirder than she’d even expected—completely stripped of anything that had belonged to either Rhea or Heather. One of the beds had been removed and the mattress on the other looked especially bare and stark. And the blood had been scrubbed off the floor so thoroughly that Riley could still smell the cleaning fluids used.
And yet …
A strange feeling stirred within her, not unlike her earlier experience of following in the killer’s footsteps along the campus paths.
Riley shuddered.
Did she really want to invite the killer’s presence again?
On the other hand, how could she do otherwise?
Whatever this was, maybe—just maybe—she’d learn something important, perhaps even who the killer really was.
She told herself she was letting her imagination go wild.
But Riley realized that deep inside she was accepting this strange experience as something real.
She closed her eyes and pictured the room as it had been when Rhea and Heather had lived here—cheerfully messy, with unmade beds and belongings scattered everywhere and posters on the walls.
Then the real horror kicked in …
She was standing over Rhea’s body, not dead yet, gasping and writhing as blood spurted out of the gaping wound in her throat. Riley felt the killer’s fingers wrapped around the knife handle as he looked down at the gleaming blade stained with blood.
She felt a smile of satisfaction form across his face.
The killer was looking forward to doing this same thing again—and yet he was reminding himself …
“I’m not in any hurry.”
Riley’s eyes snapped open and the spell was broken. She was trembling.
Although the episode had been brief, it was much more intense than what she had experienced on the campus paths.
Should she try to get into that state of mind again, see if she could learn more about the killer?
She closed her eyes and breathed slowly …
… but nothing happened.
Still, she didn’t feel the least bit discouraged.
Instead, she felt something that she hadn’t felt since Rhea had been murdered.
In a way she couldn’t yet understand, she was in pursuit of the murderer.
As long as she could glimpse the world through his eyes, if only fleetingly and occasionally, she had more power over him than he could ever understand.
She whispered aloud to the unseen presence …
“I’m watching you.”
Then she turned off the light, left the room, shut the door, and headed back to her own room.
She realized that something new was happening to her.
And that it just might change everything.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Riley felt terribly ill at ease at Sunday’s memorial service. More than that—she felt positively alien, as if she were an ill-prepared visitor from another planet.
Rhea Thorson’s family lived in an attractive home that was all cream-colored and beige, and so well kept it looked newer than it really must have been. The living room was packed with family and friends, all of whom obviously knew and cared about each other.
Riley shifted uncomfortably in her chair and wondered …
What must it feel like to really belong like all these people?
She’d certainly never experienced anything like it in any of the places she’d called home over the years.
Rhea’s older sister, Kyra, had met Riley at the Herborn bus station this morning and had driven her here just in time for the service. Riley had been hastily introduced to Rhea’s parents and siblings and a handful of relatives, then took her place in one of the folding chairs that had been lined up in the room.
To Riley’s relief, the elderly preacher finished his remarks pretty quickly. Even so, she found herself puzzling over some of things he had said—about how Rhea was free from the evils of this world, and how everyone who loved her could take comfort in the knowledge that she was now living in eternal happiness.
The truth was, Riley had never had any idea whether Rhea was religious or not.
Would Rhea be happy to hear the preacher saying such things?
Riley had no idea.
Again, she was tugged by a sad realization that she simply hadn’t gotten to know Rhea nearly as well as she should have.
Friends and relatives were now taking turns stepping to the front of the room and sharing memories of Rhea. Most were happy memories of school and play and picnics and family vacations and the like. Some of the funnier stories stirred the group to wistful laughter.
Even so, muffled weeping broke out now and then. Nobody could quite forget their grief, nor the horrible evil that had befallen their community, even if nobody would talk about it.
This morning before leaving, Riley had worried about what to wear for the occasion. Would everybody be wearing black? The closest she could get to that was a solid navy-blue dress, which she’d hoped would be solemn enough.
But as things turned out, Riley was dressed more formally than most of the people here. Generally they were casually, comfortably dressed, as if this were an everyday gathering—as if Rhea herself might walk in at any moment.
Riley guessed that the earlier small service and burial that Kyra had mentioned must have been decidedly more somber. This group seemed touchingly determined to convince themselves of that old proverb …
“Life goes on.”
If only that were true, Riley sadly thought.
Still, the presence of such mutually caring people deeply affected her. She found herself thinking about how few people she felt so deeply connected to.
Was there anybody like that in her life at all? If so, it would almost have to be college friends like Trudy and Heather and Gina and …
Rhea.
She shuddered as the name passed through her mind.
It was terrifying to think of how fragile her human connections were.
And there were so few of them.
She thought about her older sister, Wendy, who had run away from home as a teenager. That had been years ago, and Riley had seldom seen her since then. They hadn’t talked for a long time and Riley didn’t even know where Wendy might live anymore.
Then there were Uncle Deke and Aunt Ruth. She’d lived with them in the little town of Larned during much of her childhood and all of her adolescence. She owed them what little stability she’d had in her young life. She felt bad that she’d given them so much trouble during her teen years. They’d deserved better from her.
She wondered—would she ever be able to make it up to them?
She wasn’t sure how. When Uncle Deke had retired, he and Aunt Ruth had moved to Florida, and Riley didn’t have much contact with them anymore.
And then there was Riley’s father.
As troubled as their relationship had always been, she couldn’t convince herself that she hated him. And she suspected that, in his own cold, ruthless way, he still cared deeply for her.
And right now she keenly realized …
Nobody is promised a tomorrow.
Her father wouldn’t live forever. Whenever he died, how would Riley feel about all the things they had left unsettled and unsaid?
Was it possible that they could somehow make peace with one another?
Riley found herself thinking …
Maybe it’s time to try.
But how could she even start?
As these questions flowed through her mind, Riley noticed that only one person here appeared as uncomfortably out of place as she herself felt, and that was Kyra. For one thing, Kyra looked markedly more sophisticated than anyone else, wearing a sleek rose-colored dress and comfortable but classy flats accompanied by large, elegant earrings and stylishly crimped hair.
Kyra kept glancing at Riley, as if for emotional support.
Riley remembered what Kyra had said over the phone about her family and friends here in Herborn …
Riley knew that Kyra had become an airline attendant not long after graduating from Lanton. Whenever Kyra came to visit Rhea on campus and spent time with Riley and Trudy, she would regale them all with stories about her travels to all parts of the world.
It had always sounded to Riley like an exciting life. Now Riley realized that Kyra’s life had made her feel like a stranger in this small town, where everyone knew everyone else and few people traveled very far away or for very long.
Riley noticed that Rhea’s immediate family—her father and mother and brothers and sisters, including Kyra—didn’t take the opportunity to tell their own stories. Riley wasn’t surprised. Their grief was surely too fresh and deep to share their own joyous memories of happier times with Rhea. But at least Rhea’s father and mother seemed pleased to hear what the others said.
When the stories came to an end, everybody got up and started to mingle, herding in the general direction of a table that had been spread with potluck dishes that the guests had prepared.
Riley wished she could shrivel up and disappear.
This was the moment she had been most dreading—having to introduce herself to people she didn’t know and find comforting things to say to them.
But she quickly felt someone’s hand on her shoulder.
She turned and saw Kyra, who whispered to her …
“Let’s get out of here. Please.”
Startled, Riley followed Kyra through the house and out the front door to her car, which was parked at the fringes of the mass of vehicles cramped around the house. They both got into Kyra’s car, and then she maneuvered away from the other vehicles and drove away.
Riley almost asked …
“Where are we going?”
But she saw that tears were pouring down Kyra’s face.
“Oh, God,” Kyra gasped. “I couldn’t breathe back there. It was too much for me. Thanks for … thanks for coming. I really needed you here, Riley.”
Riley was deeply touched.
She said, “I’m glad I came.”
And for the first time, she really did feel glad she’d come. It occurred to her that she was sorry Trudy hadn’t.