Watching

by Blake Pierce

  Walton tapped his pencil against the table and said, “Did she talk to anyone else while the two of you were at the Centaur’s Den?”

  Harry paused and thought for a moment.

  “Now that you mention it—she did talk to somebody. Her roommate came up to the table—Riley Somebody. Yeah, Riley Sweeney.”

  Riley glanced at Agent Crivaro, who glanced back at her.

  Harry continued, “Riley was being really annoying, wanted Trudy to go home with her. Trudy told her to get lost.”

  Riley stifled a gasp as she remembered what Trudy had actually said …

  “The night is young. Don’t spoil the party.”

  She was sure Trudy had never told her to get lost.

  Then Harry perked up. He said, “Hey, maybe that’s important. That Riley Sweeney was around, I mean. You know, she was around after that other girl got killed. I saw her myself, standing right in the doorway to the girl’s room. I thought at the time, ‘What the hell is she doing there?’ She’s a weird girl. You should haul her in here and talk to her instead of wasting time here with me.”

  Walton just said, “Continue.”

  Harry thought for a moment and said, “We left the bar and started walking back to the dorm. By the time we got on campus, she was leaning into me, and I could tell she was really interested.”

  Riley wondered whether that was true. It didn’t seem unlikely. But had Trudy started to feel uncomfortable along the way? Had she maybe tried to get away from Harry Rampling?

  Harry hesitated.

  Walton prompted him, “And then?”

  Harry said, “Then I saw two of my pals farther on down the path—Eddie and Monty. They were watching us and they got really rude about seeing me with a good-looking chick. You know, whistling and gestures and stuff. They were as drunk as all get out, and it really pissed me off.”

  “So what did you do?” Walton asked.

  “I told Trudy to stay put while I had a word with them. I went over and told them to knock it off. Then they started asking me all sorts of questions, like how I was getting along with her so far, and what did I think was going to happen.”

  Harry hunched forward, looking at his handcuffed hands.

  He continued, “So I guess I must have talked to them for a couple of minutes, and then they started snickering again like a couple of idiots. I asked them what the hell they thought was so funny, and one of them—Eddie, I think—said, ‘Looks like you’ve been dumped, dude.’”

  Harry let out a grunt of annoyance and said, “So I turned around, and sure enough, Trudy was gone.”

  “Where did she go?” Walton asked.

  “Beats me,” Harry said. “Maybe you should ask Eddie and Monty. They watched her go away without telling me. Just trying to make me look like an idiot, if you know what I mean.”

  Is he telling the truth? Riley wondered.

  So far, she couldn’t be sure either way.

  “And then what happened?” Walton asked.

  “Eddie and Monty wandered off again, and I was … well, I was kind of pissed off at everybody. I just wandered around campus for a while until I calmed down. Then I went back to my room and went to sleep.”

  Walton was staring at Harry with intense interest.

  “And so you didn’t see Trudy again?” he asked.

  “No—the poor kid. I should have gone looking for her, made sure she was safe.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Walton asked.

  Harry shrugged and said, “Just because I was mad at her, I guess. Anyway, now you know the whole story—or my story, anyway. Can I go now?”

  “I don’t think so,” Walton said, scribbling down notes.

  Harry impatiently rapped the tabletop with his knuckles.

  “When, then?” he said. “Because this is a real waste of time—both for you and for me. I mean, please tell me I get out of here sometime today. I’ve got a lot of studying to do. My grades aren’t so hot, and if I start flunking they’ll kick me off the football team.”

  Riley suddenly felt a powerful tingling all over.

  She was sure of something, although she didn’t yet know why.

  She turned to Agent Crivaro and said …

  “He’s telling the truth. He didn’t kill Trudy.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  Riley locked eyes with Agent Crivaro’s for a long moment. She let the words she had just spoken sink in …

  “He’s telling the truth. He didn’t kill Trudy.”

  It now seemed blazingly clear to her, and she felt so certain.

  Crivaro didn’t look at all surprised by what she’d just said.

  “Why do you think that?” he asked.

  Riley squinted with thought.

  Why do I think that? she wondered.

  It was just a gut feeling, of course. But where had it come from?

  She turned to look again into the interview room, where Agent Walton was still questioning Harry Rampling. She stopped paying attention to what they were saying. That didn’t interest her now.

  Instead, she thought back to when she had found Trudy and Harry together in the booth at the Centaur’s Den last night.

  Harry had been regaling her with a story of his athletic prowess.

  Trudy had been hanging raptly on his every word …

  … or had she?

  She really didn’t care what he was saying, Riley realized.

  Instead, Trudy had been ogling Harry’s handsome face and his muscular physique—and she’d been fantasizing like crazy and wondering how the night was going to end. Trudy had been looking for something that might get her mind off her fears.

  But what did that tell Riley?

  She thought back to her experience back in the dorm, when Agent Crivaro had helped her get into the killer’s mind. She remembered that moment when she’d imagined Trudy opening their dorm room door to let the killer inside.

  But why had Trudy done that?

  Riley had felt that Trudy and her killer weren’t close friends.

  But there had to be some reason.

  Riley brought the imagined scene back as vividly as she could.

  She closed her eyes and tried to push it a little farther.

  The man had been talking to Trudy …

  Now Riley realized that Trudy had been truly interested in what he was saying—so interested that she wanted him to come inside so they could sit down and talk.

  So she’d opened the door and invited him in.

  Riley felt her brain clicking away in strange new ways, and she remembered something that Harry had said just now …

  “My grades aren’t so hot, and if I start flunking they’ll kick me off the football team.”

  Riley felt her pulse quicken as her gut feeling suddenly made complete sense.

  She said to Agent Crivaro, “The man who killed Trudy was interesting, intelligent. She enjoyed listening to him talk, was fascinated by what he had to say.”

  “And?” Crivaro said.

  Riley pointed to the young man in the interview room.

  “Harry is not very intelligent, and he’s anything but fascinating. In fact, he’s kind of dumb, and he only talks about himself. I knew Trudy—and if Harry walked her all the way to the dorm, she’d most likely have gotten bored with him before they got there. He’s not the one she let into her room.”

  Riley looked steadily at Jake, who kept staring into the interview room.

  Does he believe me? she wondered.

  She felt like she had to persuade him.

  She said, “Agent Crivaro, I’m sure about this. I can’t stand Harry Rampling. He’s an egocentric asshole. But being an asshole doesn’t make him a killer.”

  Crivaro turned to look at her with a chuckle.

  He said, “Kid, you’ve got no idea how true that is.”

  “So you believe me?” Riley said.

  Crivaro fell silent for a moment.

  Then he said, “My own instincts are pretty damn good, if I do say so
myself. And I don’t think this obnoxious prick has the makings of a murderer.”

  Riley was feeling quite agitated now.

  She said, “We’ve got to tell Chief Hintz that they’ve got the wrong guy.”

  Crivaro rubbed his chin and said, “Oh, I’ll talk to him about it. But …”

  “But what?” asked Riley.

  Crivaro shook his head.

  “Hintz isn’t going to want to take my word for it—much less yours. And the truth is, there’s no good reason why he should. Hunches and intuitions aren’t evidence. You and I don’t have a single shred of evidence to back ourselves up. Right now, there’s a lot of evidence pointing to the guy in there. Sure, it’s just circumstantial evidence, but it’s pretty persuasive.”

  Riley could hardly believe her ears.

  “But they can’t just keep Harry here!” she objected. “He didn’t do anything wrong!”

  Crivaro patted Riley on the shoulder.

  “Kid, there’s something you should know,” he said. “This talent you and I have both got—this ability to get into a killer’s mind—it’s not an exact science. I’m right most of the time, but I’ve also been wrong once in a long while. And at best, what we get is incomplete. If you keep on doing this kind of work, you’ll be wrong sooner or later as well.”

  Riley just stared at him. She didn’t know what to say.

  Crivaro was now looking at her with deep concern.

  “You look awfully tired, kid,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot, and I’m afraid I’ve only made things worse for you. You’ve done more than enough for now, and there’s no point in your hanging around. You really need to get out of here, try to get some rest. But where are you going to go?”

  Riley realized it was a good question.

  Her dorm room wasn’t available—not that she’d want to go back there if it was. She wondered if she’d ever be able to go back inside the building, much less the room that she’d once shared with Trudy.

  She remembered something Dr. Zimmerman had said to her a little while ago …

  “I could put you up at my place, just for the night. I’ve got a guest room.”

  She wondered—should she take him up on that offer?

  She didn’t even know how to contact him right now. And even if she did, she somehow felt uncomfortable about imposing on him.

  She said to Agent Crivaro, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll think of something.”

  She hesitated for a moment, then added, “Just … find whoever did this, OK?”

  Crivaro nodded, then handed her a business card.

  “This has got my pager number,” he said. “Get in touch with me if … well, for any reason at all.”

  Riley thanked Agent Crivaro and walked away down the hall.

  Just then she remembered the alarmed message Ryan had left on the answering machine …

  “Are you there? Are you all right? Are you safe?”

  It was wrong to let him keep worrying.

  I’ve got to call him, she thought.

  She found the nearest payphone and punched in Ryan’s number.

  When Ryan answered, his voice was shaking.

  “Riley? Oh my God! I’m so glad you called. I’ve been worried sick. How are you? Are you all right?”

  Riley wondered how she could possibly answer that question.

  Am I all right?

  Hardly. She felt as though she’d never be all right again.

  Even so …

  “I’m safe,” she said.

  “Where are you?”

  “At the police station.”

  Ryan sounded confused as well as alarmed.

  “The police station? Why?”

  Riley hesitated. What could she tell him about what had been happening and what she had been doing? She barely understood any of it herself.

  Then Ryan said, “Riley, please tell me they don’t …”

  He didn’t finish his thought, but Riley knew what he wanted to ask.

  Do they suspect me?

  “No, I’m not a suspect,” she said.

  Ryan asked, “Have they got anybody else in custody?”

  “Yeah,” Riley said.

  What else was there to say about it? How could she begin to explain her own doubts about Harry Rampling, and Agent Crivaro’s doubts as well?

  Ryan asked, “Are they holding you for any reason? Because I know quite a bit about the law, you know. You’ve got your rights, no matter what.”

  “No, they’re not holding me,” Riley said. “I’m free to go. But …”

  Her voice trailed off as she thought …

  But I don’t know where to go.

  A short silence followed.

  Then Ryan said, “I’m coming to pick you up. Wait for me outside the police station.”

  “Ryan, you don’t have to—”

  Ryan interrupted, “No arguments. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Ryan hung up. Riley stood there holding the phone, suddenly feeling alone, tired, scared, and sad. Then she hung up and walked the rest of the way to the front entrance and went outside.

  The bright daylight came as a shock to her.

  For some reason, she felt like it ought to be night outside—a deep, dark, starless night.

  But today was a bright, cheerful spring day, with a gentle, fresh breeze and chirping birds.

  Again she thought of that old cliché …

  Life goes on.

  Maybe it was true after all.

  But right now, Riley couldn’t help feel that it shouldn’t be true.

  Everything should just stop living, she thought. At least for a little while.

  But that wasn’t going to happen—and thousands of unaware and unwary people were going to enjoy this perfectly lovely day without sensing the evil that lurked behind it.

  Riley sat down on the steps of the police station and waited.

  Her thoughts were strangely suspended now. She wasn’t thinking about anything at all. There didn’t seem to be any point in it. Thinking wasn’t going to change things. Thinking wasn’t going to bring Trudy back to life.

  But the absence of thought made the moments pass slowly.

  It seemed like forever before Ryan pulled up to the curb in his Mustang. For some reason, Riley couldn’t seem to get to her feet and simply walk toward the car. Instead, Ryan left the engine running and got out and walked over to her. He gently took her by the arm and helped her to her feet, then led her to the car and helped her into the car.

  An uncomfortable silence fell as Ryan drove toward his apartment.

  Finally Ryan said, “Riley, please talk to me. Just tell me …”

  His voice trailed off and Riley wondered …

  Tell him what?

  Where could she even begin?

  She opened her mouth to speak, but the only words that came out were, “Ryan … I can’t tell you … everything … I just can’t …”

  “It’s OK,” Ryan said.

  Soon they pulled up to the apartment building, and Ryan helped her up the stairs to his apartment. Ryan opened the door and led her inside. As soon as she saw the cozy, pleasant interior something seemed to break inside of her.

  The anguish she’d been holding back for hours now erupted through her body.

  Sobbing, Riley Sweeney collapsed into Ryan Paige’s welcoming arms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Riley was sitting up in bed clutching a glass of bourbon in both hands when Ryan came into the apartment. For a moment she felt confused. Why was he back so soon?

  Then she realized that it was later than she had thought. Ryan’s morning class was long over.

  She couldn’t think of anything to say as he shut the door and stood looking at her.

  Riley knew she looked terrible. She wasn’t even dressed yet. She was wearing the pajamas that her RA had brought over from her dorm room along with a few essential supplies, clothes, and study materials.

  She’d been staying in Ryan�
��s apartment for four days and nights now, and she knew she hadn’t been a joy to be around. She hadn’t wanted to talk much about anything. She and Ryan had had sex a couple of times, and Ryan had been as sensitive and attentive as he’d been the first time, but Riley hadn’t enjoyed it much.

  She felt too numb to enjoy anything.

  It certainly wasn’t fair to Ryan. She liked him more and more every day but she was finding it hard to express any feelings at all.

  Ryan looked especially concerned about the glass in her hand. She took another swallow of bourbon anyway.

  “It’s not even lunchtime,” Ryan said.

  Riley looked over at the wall clock.

  “It’s all right—it’s one o’clock,” she said.

  “But have you eaten anything for lunch? You barely touched your breakfast this morning. You shouldn’t be drinking, Riley.”

  Riley sighed. He was right, of course, and she had no right to argue. She set the glass down on the side table.

  Ryan sat down next to her on the bed.

  He asked, “How long has it been since you’ve been out of the apartment?”

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  The truth was, she was pretty sure she hadn’t stepped out of the apartment since she’d gotten here on Friday. She knew for sure that she hadn’t been out of the building.

  Ryan said, “You didn’t go to classes yesterday. Aren’t you going to any today?”

  “I don’t know,” Riley said. “No. I don’t think so.”

  A silence fell between them.

  Then Riley reached out and took hold of Ryan’s hand. She added, “That’s not a problem. Please don’t worry. My grades are good. Missing a few classes isn’t going to hurt.”

  Ryan squeezed her hand and said, “Yeah, Riley, but when …?”

  He didn’t finish his question.

  Riley felt a small flash of resentment.

  She said, “When am I going to snap out of it, you mean?”

  “I wasn’t going to ask you that,” Ryan said.

  “Well, why not?” Riley said. “It’s a good question, isn’t it? And I don’t know the answer. How long is it supposed to take to get over finding my best friend’s corpse in my dorm room?”

  Right away, Riley could hardly believe what she’d just said.

  “I’m sorry, Ryan. I shouldn’t have said—”