by CR Wiley
“Do you think your sister’s here?” she asked Caroline, hoping to distract herself.
“She definitely is somewhere, but I have to let her have her own fun with her new college friends. I don’t even want to know what she has planned for tonight. It’d probably ruin my impression of her as my sweet little innocent sister,” Caroline said.
“As sweet and innocent as we were?” Nora asked, rolling her eyes.
“You know, we talked a lot about the crazy stuff we did, but we weren’t really all that crazy. Yeah, we would go out and drink, but none of us really went overboard and lost control.”
“I definitely did a couple of times,” Steph said, shrugging.
Nora’s phone went off again, and she was afraid to answer it. The number was Angkor’s, without a doubt. It’d been just a few hours since she contacted him. Was that enough time for him to find out anything? Holding her breath, she answered the phone.
“Angkor, what have you got for me?” she asked. Her earlier assessment that she would either hit or miss with both proved correct. He just wasn’t confident enough in any of the near-matches. Even after running histories for some of them to see if they might have ever been in Berkeley, he had to accept that these weren’t who she was looking for.
“OK, so you went crazy a few times, but think about the rest of us. We had our fun, but our hookups were never completely out of the blue. Do you remember that guy Francis? I left with him one night at a bar, but by then I’d known him for an entire year,” Caroline said.
Nora was sitting on the bench, with her knees locked together and her arms crossed over her chest as if she were fighting off hypothermia. Steph was the one to finally notice.
“Hey, I’m sorry even the fancy FBI stuff didn’t work out. Sometimes things just get lost in the past and there’s no way to get them back. But can we have a normal day tomorrow, that doesn’t involve hanging out at the police station, knocking on random people’s doors, or trying to find evidence? I don’t want our last day together to be anything but relaxing and fun.”
Nora could see in Stephanie’s exasperation how much of a drain her quixotic quest had been on their fun. All of her investigative work had come up with nothing more than a tiny detail that didn’t amount to anything.
“We can chill tomorrow,” Nora said.
“Good, now let’s focus on the game. They’re about to kickoff,” Steph said. She clapped and shouted with some of the other fans.
Something tickled Nora’s brain. “But Caroline is right. Except for you, I don’t think any of us ever had a completely random hookup. As far as I know, Maria might’ve been a virgin straight through to her junior year. Doesn’t it strike you as odd that one night she met someone and within ten or fifteen minutes decided to sleep with him?”
“What are you getting at?” Caroline asked. The players were on the field. The kicker raised his hand high in the air and started running toward the football. It flew high in the air, soaring toward the UCLA player at the opposite end.
“I can’t believe we didn’t realize this before. That man with the perfect face who took her away and killed her, Maria already knew him.”
CHAPTER 7
CALIFORNIA MEMORIAL STADIUM
210 STADIUM RIM WAY
SAN FRANCISCO, CA
Lauren Devonshire knew everything was going to fall into place as soon as she saw the ball sail through the uprights. The kick clinched a win for the Golden Bears over the UCLA Bruins with a last second field goal from fifty yards out that had everyone’s hearts in a vice. The release was euphoric, mind-blowing for both the players and the fans in the stadium.
Lauren was most focused on a group of senior girls, nearly a dozen of them, who were known to be close to the football players. They sat just to Lauren’s right, behind the players’ bench. The one sitting closest to her was in Lauren’s Media & Film class, which provided a reasonable enough excuse for her to sit with them. As long as she stuck close to these girls, she’d have a chance to get what she wanted.
Some of the players came over to trade parting comments with the seniors before heading into the locker room. If the guys on the team were shameless about it, flexing their muscles while peeling off pieces of equipment, the girls were just as bad. It would be hard to find more cleavage at the beach. In jeans and a white tank top, at least Lauren knew how to look the part.
“Hey, Preston!” one of the girls called to the team’s star tight end. Preston Lowery had caught passes for over one-hundred yards during the game and had overwhelmed defense at least a dozen times. An obvious NFL draft candidate, he had the face to match, with dreamy blue eyes and porcelain skin. It was a shame it had to be hidden under a helmet all game.
Preston heard the call and pointed a finger back at the girls, smirking before going to the locker room. The confidence was palpable. He didn’t need to fight for anyone’s attention as some of the other players did. Whatever he wanted would be his for the taking, and word got around that he wanted quite a lot.
“I could think of a few things he could do with that finger,” the girl who’d shouted at him said, eliciting chuckles from the other girls. Lauren laughed right along with them, getting up when they finally got up and walking toward one of exits when they did. She could feel that the moment was coming when she would have to transition from someone simply following them to someone in their group.
They’d all already downed two or three beers. How hard could it be to make a comment that gets a positive response? At first she thought to ask the girl from her class about their upcoming midterm but thought better of it.
“The only thing that could’ve made that game better was if they were playing without helmets…and shirts,” Lauren said with enough volume to catch the attention of the girls in front. They glanced back at her.
“As far as I’m concerned, they can go without pants too!” one of the girls said, breaking into laughter.
Lauren broke into a big smile as the others snickered. She was sure these girls were also serious students who cared about a lot more than what guys looked like, but it was right after a big win and Saturday night was ripe for the taking.
They spent another hour outside the locker room waiting for the players to trickle out. There were other girls still around, some parents even, after the rest of the spectators cleared out. Every once in a while a truck or a car would pull up and carry them off to the next big event of the evening.
Some of the players came out to join Lauren and the group of seniors. Everyone was wide-eyed and smiling brightly. When Preston finally came out, it was like dropping a magnet into a bucket of iron filings. People were mobbing the area and suddenly there was so much talking and shouting that everything became incomprehensible.
The entire group drifted toward the parking lot. One of the seniors handed Preston a beer, which he downed in one chug and then patted the girl on the butt. She reacted as though she’d been given a Christmas present.
Caught in the swarm, Lauren did her best to try to remain cheerful while avoiding getting trampled. Suddenly something was against the back of her leg and she tipped back into an open van. She scrambled to claim a seat while others piled in behind her. Preston ended up in the second row, right in front of Lauren. He was so close that she could smell him. The girl beside her gave Lauren a stiff elbow and reached over to massage Preston’s shoulders, leaning forward to whisper something in the girl’s ear. Lauren kicked herself for missing such an obvious opportunity.
The driver was drunk and swerving like a maniac, but he made it down to Greek row and the south side of campus without killing anyone. It was getting dark when everyone piled into the Tau Kappa Epsilon house, which was universally known as the epicenter for rowdy parties on campus. Lauren hadn’t made it through the door before she’d already been given a drink. Students, players, and members of the fraternities were swarming everywhere. When she finally made it in, the pounding music, the smoke in the air, and the hollering were disorien
ting.
Lauren had already lost track of the seniors, but she knew Preston had entered the house as well. He was a head taller than everyone else dancing in the living room. The only thing left to do was to have fun, and she took a big gulp from the red cup and jumped into the crowd.
As the hours passed, she met up with a few other people she knew from her hall, mostly guys who didn’t hesitate to hit on her. The dancing died down as people got their energy out, started to feel sick from all of the drinking, or managed to find someone to hook up with. A girl slipped on spilled beer on the stairs and fell all the way to the bottom. Weed smoke billowed out of the kitchen.
It was getting late and a bunch of guys from the football team were doing shots near a ping pong table. Lauren had come up with an elaborate plan to get Preston’s attention if he so much as broke away to go to the bathroom, but he was never alone for a second. He held up remarkably well to the alcohol.
“Drinking contest! Boys vs. girls!” the quarterback Brent Nodorey said, rubbing elbows with some of the frat guys involved.
Lauren grinned and stepped up along with a handful of other girls, some of whom looked like one more drink would put them under the table. When Preston joined the men’s team, he gave Lauren an unmistakable look that made her heart skip a beat.
Two of the frat guys lined up the shot glasses on each side and poured from open bottles of Captain Morgan rum, spilling plenty of it on the ping pong table in the process. After a count of three, both sides downed their shots. Lauren felt it burn as it slid down her throat. She was ready for another.
Preston and his teammates were similarly unfazed, but she had a feeling he would outlast the rest because of his sheer awesomeness. That would provide them with an opportunity to revel in their victory, maybe alone somewhere upstairs, where she could get to what she really had in mind. She had a few questions for Preston about the dangers of brain disease and the propensity for violence in football, for a Journalism project that required a notable figure on campus. Once she landed the interview, what happened after that was at her discretion.
The second shots were poured and put away, then the third. The drunkest of the girls slunk away from the table and collapsed onto a nearby couch. Lauren blinked hard, trying to keep her focus. This was strong stuff, maybe the 120 proof version.
“Having trouble handling it?” Preston said, goading her. She tried to giggle coyly.
“We’ll see who has trouble by the end,” she said. He didn’t know that she was virtually immune to alcohol.
After the sixth round of shots, both the women and the men were dropping like flies. Lauren’s vision started to blur slightly and she put her hand on the ping pong table to steady herself. She was sure it was only a momentary daze and that she would snap out of it. Waving a hand, she called for another. Preston was still standing. A few more and they’d be able to leave the game behind, even if it took a kiss to pull him away.
Lauren put the glass to her lips again, and this time the burn was neither pleasant nor tolerable. She coughed and felt the room spin around her. Her eyelids felt so heavy. She didn’t understand. Her balance left her and she started to fall, only to be caught by someone. She tilted her head and saw it was Preston, who had a big smile on his face. His breath, it reminded her of apple juice.
CHAPTER 8
1428 SPRUCE STREET
BERKELEY, CA
Nora was almost finished cooking bacon for Stephanie and Caroline, who were both in their bathrobes at the kitchen table, when a phone buzzed.
“Who’s calling me at 7 a.m. on a Sunday?” Caroline asked, annoyed. They hadn’t been out extremely late after the game, but it was still surprising that they’d all gotten up early. A big breakfast was the only course of action. She picked up the phone, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Yes, I’m her emergency contact.”
Nora dropped the spatula and turned from the stove to see the color drain from her friend’s face.
“Are you serious? What happened? What do you mean?”
“Caroline, what’s going on?” Stephanie asked. Caroline’s hands were shaking. She barely managed a shrug.
“Umm, fine. Where is she now? Have the police been contacted?” Caroline’s voice was drowning in desperation. Nora was already putting on her coat and grabbing the keys. She knew what conversations like this led to. She also had enough sense to turn off the burner.
“OK, we’re going now.” Caroline shot out of her chair so fast she knocked it over and staggered out of the kitchen.
“I’ll drive,” Nora offered, knowing that Caroline was in no mind to operate a vehicle. It looked like her heart had been torn out and she was chasing after it.
“What is it?” Stephanie asked, trailing along behind.
Caroline swallowed hard and turned back to them.
“It’s Lauren. Something happened last night. She’s at the health center.”
It crossed Nora’s mind that it couldn’t have been life-threatening, since Lauren hadn’t been taken to Alta Bates Summit Medical Center in town. That didn’t mean it wasn’t bad or that Caroline’s reaction wasn’t justified, especially in light of how little they knew about what happened, but from Nora’s FBI experience, she counted it as a blessing that Lauren’s life was not at stake.
Regardless, Nora didn’t drive much slower than if she had. Unlike before the game yesterday, the roads were free of traffic and it took only minutes to get to Berkeley’s Tang Center, a three-story building with large windows and pillars the color of sun-dried brick. A campus security van was parked out front and a middle-aged woman in uniform stood guard at the door.
“Lauren Devonshire,” Caroline said, marching forward at full steam.
“She’s on the second floor, 203,” the security officer said, holding the door open for them. The inside of the building had the smell of air freshener masking that of bleach. Most of the lights were off and no one was at the front desk.
On the second floor, they met a tired looking nurse of Asian heritage in the hall. This woman must’ve left her family and come in early to handle this, but she didn’t have an ounce of complaint on her face. She directed them to Lauren’s room.
“Is there anything you can tell me?” Caroline asked. That moment was coming when they’d walk into the room to see Lauren and find out how bad it really was. Relaying unpleasant news was part of her job, and Nora thought she handled it with courage.
“Ms. Devonshire, your sister was brought in about a half an hour ago by campus security, after she was found collapsed on the sidewalk on the south side of campus, wearing only a shirt. Once we took her in she vomited. We took some basic tests, and she’s currently asleep.”
“What do you think happened?” Caroline asked. Hearing about Lauren’s state of undress made Nora’s stomach queasy with the possibility of what kind of nightmare got her there.
“It’s hard to say for sure, but we’d like your permission to bring in a specialist to utilize a sexual assault evidence collection kit,” the nurse said stoically.
“A rape kit? You’re saying my sister was raped?” Caroline broke down in tears.
“I’m incredibly sorry, but at this point we don’t know what happened. We think it’s best to check her system for drugs as well.”
“So, date raped? Drugged and raped?”
“Unless she tells you, we won’t know for sure until the tests come back,” the nurse said. Caroline glanced back at Nora.
“Run all the tests as quickly as you can,” Nora advised.
Caroline nodded. “Do the tests. Can we see her?”
The nurse brought them to the door of room 203. “I would recommend letting her rest. It might make it easier to collect a few more samples. Because she already vomited, we don’t think it’s necessary to pump her stomach, but her blood alcohol levels are still very high.”
“I can’t believe this is happening!” Caroline said to Nora. “Didn’t we go through enough horrific awfulness with Maria?”
“We’re going to make it through this,” Nora said, finding it hard to speak. There were so many parallels to what happened to Maria, including the early morning call and the frantic dash across town. Nora thought she couldn’t ever deal with another tragedy like that, but suddenly here they were in the midst of another one.
Entering the room, they found Lauren tucked underneath white sheets on a typical hospital bed. Her hair was tangled, her face was pale, but she was alive and asleep. Although the nurse couldn’t have had that much time to clean her up, Lauren didn’t appear too bad from the neck up. There weren’t any bruises on her face. The only indication that something was wrong came from her pained expression.
Caroline went to the bedside. “Lauren, my sweet sister, you didn’t deserve this,” she whispered.
“That guy needs to have his balls cut off for this. The punishment for rape should be an immediate loss of man privileges,” Steph said. Unlike Caroline, Steph seemed to grow angrier the longer she looked at Lauren.
“We’re going to find out what happened and make sure Lauren is taken care of,” Nora said, putting an arm around Steph. Caroline wiped a tear from her eye and stepped back from the bed.
“If it weren’t for you two, I’d be wailing on the floor,” she said, clutching them in a hug.
“Are we going to wait for her to wake up?” Steph asked.
Caroline looked at the floor. As hard as it was to have to face a situation like this for the first time, the decisions she would have to make afterward would require constant reckoning with that pain.
“I don’t have anywhere else to be today. But I don’t want to get in the nurse’s way, and I’ve got to call my parents. They’ll want to come out here for this. I have no doubt they’re going to die when I tell them. They were just here a couple of weeks ago, helping her move in,” she said, pulling out her phone.
“I think I should find somewhere I can sit down. Too bad there’s not another bed in here,” Steph said. “And while we’re here they can help remove this eight-pound bowling ball.”
