Watching Page 2

  And Riley more than half-believed he was right.

  Just then she heard Trudy’s voice call out.

  “Hey, Riley! Who was the cute guy?”

  Riley turned and saw Trudy coming down the stairs, carrying a full pitcher of beer in one hand and a mug in the other. Three other girls from their dorm were tagging along behind her. They all looked pretty drunk.

  Riley didn’t reply to Trudy’s question. She only hoped Ryan was out of earshot by now.

  As the girls approached the table, Riley asked …

  “Where’s Rhea?”

  Trudy looked all around.

  “I dunno,” she said in a slurred voice. “Where is Rhea?”

  One of the other girls said, “Rhea went back to the dorm.”

  “What!” Trudy said. “She left and didn’t tell me?”

  “She did tell you,” another girl said.

  The girls were all about to climb into the booth with Riley. Rather than get trapped in there with them, Riley got up from her seat.

  “We should all go home,” she said.

  With a flurry of protests, the girls seated themselves, giggling and obviously settling in for a long night.

  Riley gave up on them. She walked upstairs and out the front door. Outside, she took a deep breath of cool, fresh air. It was March and sometimes cold at night here in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, but the chill was welcome after the stuffy, smoke-filled bar.

  It was a short, well-lit walk back to the campus and her dorm. She felt that the evening had turned out pretty well. She’d only had a glass of wine, just enough to be relaxing, and there had also been that guy …

  Ryan Paige.

  She smiled.

  No, she hadn’t forgotten his name.

  *

  Riley was sleeping deeply and dreamlessly when something jarred her awake.

  What? she wondered.

  At first, she thought maybe someone had shaken her by the shoulder.

  But no, that wasn’t it.

  As she stared into the darkness of her dorm room, she heard the sound again.

  A shriek.

  A voice filled with terror.

  Riley knew that something terrible had happened.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Riley was out of her bed and on her feet before she was fully awake.

  That sound had been horrible.

  What was it?

  When she switched on the light beside her bed, a familiar voice grumbled from across the room, “Riley—what’s going on?”

  Trudy was lying in her own bed fully clothed, shielding her eyes against the light. She obviously had collapsed there in a fairly inebriated state.

  Riley had slept right through her roommate’s arrival.

  But she was awake now.

  So were others in the dorm. She could hear alarmed voices calling out from the rooms nearby.

  Riley went into motion, shoving her feet into slippers, pulling on her robe, and opening their room door. She stepped out into the hallway.

  Other room doors were swinging open. Girls were poking their heads out, asking what was wrong.

  And Riley could see at least one thing that was wrong. About halfway down the hall, a girl was collapsed on her knees, sobbing.

  Riley raced toward her.

  Heather Glover, she realized.

  Heather had been with them at the Centaur’s Den. She’d still been there with Trudy and the others when Riley left.

  Now Riley knew—it was Heather she’d heard screaming.

  She also remembered …

  Heather is Rhea’s roommate!

  Riley reached the sobbing girl and crouched beside her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Heather—what happened?”

  Sobbing and choking, Heather pointed to the open door next to her.

  She managed to gasp …

  “It’s Rhea. She’s—”

  Heather suddenly threw up.

  Dodging the spray of vomit, Riley stood up and peered into the room door. In the light shining in from the hallway, she could make out something spread out on the floor—a dark liquid. At first she thought it was spilled soft drink.

  Then she shuddered …

  Blood.

  She’d seen blood pooled like this before. There was no mistaking it for anything else.

  She stepped into the doorway and quickly saw that Rhea lay sprawled across her single bed, fully clothed and with her eyes wide open.

  “Rhea?” Riley said.

  She peered closer. Then she gagged.

  Rhea’s throat was slashed almost from ear to ear.

  Rhea was dead—Riley knew that for certain.

  It wasn’t the first murdered woman she’d seen in her life.

  Then Riley heard another scream. For a moment she wondered if the scream might be her own.

  But no—it was coming from right behind her.

  Riley turned, and there in the doorway stood Gina Formaro. She’d also been partying at the Centaur’s Den that night. Now her eyes were bulging and she was trembling all over, pale with shock.

  Riley realized that she herself felt remarkably calm, not scared at all. She also knew that she was probably the only student on the whole floor who wasn’t already in a state of panic.

  It was up to her to make sure things didn’t get even worse.

  Riley gently took Gina by the arm and led her out of the doorway. Heather was still there on the floor where she had vomited, still sobbing. And other wandering students were beginning to make their way toward the room.

  Riley pulled the room door closed and stood in front of it.

  “Stay back!” she yelled at the approaching girls. “Stay away!”

  Riley was surprised at the force and authority in her own voice.

  The girls obeyed, forming a crowded semicircle around the dorm room.

  Riley yelled again, “Somebody call nine-one-one!”

  “Why?” one of the girls asked.

  Still crouched on the floor with a pool of vomit in front of her, Heather Glover managed to croak out …

  “It’s Rhea. She’s been murdered.”

  Suddenly a wild mix of girls’ voices exploded in the hallway—some screaming, some gasping, some sobbing. A few of the girls pushed toward the room again.

  “Stay back!” Riley said again, still blocking the doorway. “Call nine-one-one!”

  One of the girls who owned a little cell phone was carrying it in her hand. She made the call.

  Riley stood there wondering …

  What do I do now?

  She only knew one thing for certain—she couldn’t let any of the girls into the room with the body. There was enough panic on the floor already. It would only get worse if more people saw what was in that room.

  She also felt sure that no one was supposed to walk around in …

  In what?

  A crime scene, she realized. That room was a crime scene.

  She remembered—she was sure it must be from movies or TV shows—that the police would want the crime scene to be as untouched as possible.

  All she could do was wait—and keep everybody out.

  And so far she was being successful. The semicircle of students began to break up, and girls wandered off into smaller groups, disappearing into rooms or forming little clusters in the hallway to share their horror. There was a lot of crying now, and some low, animal-like wailing. A few more cell phones were appearing, those who owned them calling parents or friends to report their versions of the disaster.

  Riley thought that probably wasn’t a good idea, but she had no way to stop them. At least they were staying away from the door that she guarded.

  And now she was starting to feel her own share of horror.

  Images from her early childhood flooded Riley’s brain …

  Riley and Mommy were in a candy store—and how Mommy was spoiling Riley!

  She was buying her lots and lots of candy.

  They were both laughing
and happy until …

  A man stepped toward them. He had a weird face, flat and featureless, like something out of one of Riley’s nightmares. It took Riley a second to realize that he was wearing a nylon stocking over his head—the kind that Mommy wore on her legs.

  And he was holding a gun.

  He started yelling at Mommy …

  “Your purse! Give me your purse!”

  His voice sounded as frightened as Riley felt.

  Riley looked up at Mommy, expecting her to do as the man said.

  But Mommy had turned pale and was shaking all over. She didn’t seem to understand what was going on.

  “Give me your purse!” the man yelled again.

  Mommy just stood there, clutching her purse.

  Riley wanted to tell Mommy …

  “Do as the man says, Mommy. Give him your purse.”

  But for some reason, no words came out of her mouth.

  Mommy staggered a little, as if she wanted to run but couldn’t make her legs move.

  Then there was a flash and a loud, terrible noise …

  … and Mommy fell to the floor, landing on her side.

  Her chest was spurting deep red, and the color soaked her blouse and was spreading out in a puddle on the floor …

  Riley was yanked back to the present by the sound of approaching sirens. The local cops were arriving.

  She felt relief that the authorities were here and could take over … whatever it was that had to be done.

  She saw that boys who lived on the second floor were coming down and asking the girls what was going on. They were also in various stages of dress—shirts and jeans, pajamas and robes.

  Harry Rampling, the football player who had approached Riley back at the bar, made his way toward where she was standing against the closed door. He pushed past the girls still hovering there and stared at her for a moment.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

  Riley said nothing. She saw no point in trying to explain—not with the police about to appear at any second.

  Harry smirked a little and took a menacing step toward Riley. He’d obviously been told about the dead girl inside.

  “Get out of the way,” he said. “I want to see.”

  Riley stood even more firmly than before.

  “You can’t go in there,” she said.

  Harry said, “Why not, little girl?”

  Riley stared daggers at him, but she was wondering …

  What the hell do I think I’m doing?

  Did she really think she could keep a male athlete from going in there if he decided to?

  Oddly enough, she had the feeling that she probably could.

  She’d certainly put up a fight, if it came to that.

  Fortunately, she heard the clatter of footsteps entering the hall, then a man’s voice calling out …

  “Break it up. Let us through.”

  The clump of students broke up.”

  Someone said, “Over there,” and three uniformed cops made their way toward Riley.

  She recognized all of them. They were familiar faces around Lanton. Two of them were men, Officers Steele and White. The other was a woman, Officer Frisbie. A couple of campus cops were also tagging along.

  Steele was overweight, and his reddish face made Riley suspect that he drank too much. White was a tall guy who walked with a constant slouch and whose mouth always seemed to be hanging open. Riley didn’t think he seemed especially bright. Officer Frisbie was a tall, sturdy woman who had always struck Riley as friendly and good-natured.

  “We got a call,” Officer Steele said. He huffed at Riley. “What the hell’s going on here?”

  Riley stepped away from the door and pointed to it.

  “It’s Rhea Thorson,” Riley said. “She’s—”

  Riley found that she couldn’t finish the sentence. She was still trying to get it through her head that Rhea was dead.

  She just stepped aside.

  Officer Steele opened the door and slouched past her into the room.

  Then came a loud gasp as he exclaimed …

  “Oh my God!”

  Officers Frisbie and White both hurried inside.

  Then Steele reappeared and called out to the onlookers, “I need to know what happened. Right now.”

  There was a general murmur of alarmed confusion.

  Then Steele fired a series of questions. “What do you know about this? Was this girl in her room all evening? Who else was here?”

  More confusion followed, with some girls saying that Rhea hadn’t left the dorm, others saying that she went to the library, others that she’d gone out on a date, and of course a few who said that she’d gone out drinking. Nobody had seen anybody else here. Not until they heard Heather screaming.

  Riley took a breath, getting ready to shout the others down and tell what she knew. But before she could speak, Harry Rampling pointed at Riley and said …

  “This girl’s been acting all weird. She was standing right there when I got here. Like maybe she’d just come out the door.”

  Steele stepped toward Riley and growled …

  “Is that right? You’ve got some explaining to do. Start talking.”

  He seemed to be reaching for his handcuffs. For the first time, Riley started to feel a trace of panic.

  Is this guy going to arrest me? she wondered.

  She had no idea what might happen if he did.

  But the woman cop said sharply to Officer Steele, “Leave her alone, Nat. Can’t you see what she was doing? She was guarding the room, making sure nobody else got in. We’ve got her to thank that the crime scene isn’t hopelessly contaminated.”

  Officer Steele backed away, looking resentful.

  The woman shouted to the onlookers, “I want everybody to stay exactly where you are. Nobody moves, d’you hear? And keep talking to a minimum.”

  There were nods and murmurs of assent from the group.

  Then the woman grabbed Riley by the arm and started to escort her away from the others.

  “Come with me,” she whispered sharply to Riley. “You and I are going to have a little talk.”

  Riley gulped anxiously as Officer Frisbie led her away.

  Am I really in trouble? she wondered.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Officer Frisbie kept a firm grip on Riley’s arm the whole way down the hall. They went through a pair of double doors and wound up standing at the base of the stairs. At last the woman released her.

  Riley rubbed her arm where it hurt a little.

  Officer Frisbie said, “Sorry to get rough there. We’re in kind of a hurry. First of all, what’s your name?”

  “Riley Sweeney.”

  “I’ve seen you around town. What year are you in college?”

  “A senior.”

  The woman’s stern expression softened a little.

  “Well, first of all, I want to apologize for how Officer Steele talked to you just now. Poor guy, he really can’t help it. It’s just that he’s … what’s the word my daughter would use? Oh, yeah. A dick.”

  Riley was too startled too laugh. Anyway, Officer Frisbie wasn’t smiling.

  She said, “I pride myself on having pretty reliable gut instincts—better than the ‘good old boys’ I’m stuck working with, anyway. And right now my gut is saying that you’re the one person around here who might be able to tell me exactly what I need to know.”

  Riley felt another wave of panic as the unsmiling woman took out a notepad and got ready to write.

  She said, “Officer Frisbie, I really have no idea—”

  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 stud
y, 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.