Watching

by Blake Pierce

  She had thought her counselor was wise to recommend that she go out. She had been proud of making the effort. But all she was managing to do was scare herself to death.

  I might as well give it up, she thought. I should just stay inside,

  Of course, cowering in a dorm room sure didn’t seem like much of a life. But she reminded herself that there were only about two months until graduation. If she could make it through until then, pass her exams and graduate, she could go back home and stay there until she felt it was safe to go out.

  When Trudy got to the dorm entrance, she let herself in and stood just inside the door gasping for breath.

  At last, she felt like she could breathe again.

  As she walked toward the room she shared with Riley, she glanced farther down the hallway toward the one where Rhea’s body had been found. She’d been avoiding walking through that part of the hall anymore. She’d dreaded the very idea of simply walking past that room.

  But she reminded herself of her counselor’s motto …

  “Baby steps.”

  Maybe she could at least take some baby steps here indoors. Maybe this was a fear she could conquer right now. There were no other students in the hall at the moment to see if she failed.

  Trudy passed by her own room and continued down the hall. The hallway seemed to get longer as she walked along, and the room that scared her seemed to retreat farther and farther away. Instead of quickening her pace like she had coming home from the library, Trudy found herself moving more slowly.

  She almost wondered …

  Maybe I’ll never get there.

  But she finally found herself standing in front of the door that had been closed for two weeks now. It seemed weirdly huge and brooding, like some kind of enormous tombstone. She felt dwarfed and daunted by that door.

  She knew that no one was living in the room now. Heather hadn’t returned to school. She’d emailed her friends, including Trudy, that she was taking a year off from college and might apply somewhere else in the fall. And of course, no one else wanted to move in there—at least not yet.

  Trudy wondered—how long would it be before anyone did live there again?

  Next year, maybe?

  Longer?

  Trudy couldn’t imagine that it would be anytime soon. Surely it wouldn’t be at least until all the students who currently occupied this floor were gone, taking with them the awful memory of that night.

  She found it strange to consider—eventually, Rhea’s murder would be nothing more than a part of the dorm’s history, a story students might tell each other for fun, to scare each other into nervous giggles and nightmares.

  Trudy began to wonder …

  Is the door locked?

  Surely it was, the room being unoccupied and all.

  She could find out if it was locked right now, just by reaching out and trying the doorknob.

  Just then, a noise startled her almost out of her skin.

  She turned and saw that it was Riley coming out of their own room.

  “Hey, Riley,” she called out.

  Riley turned and looked surprised to see Trudy.

  “Hi, Trudy,” she said.

  Trudy and Riley walked toward one another.

  “I see you’re back from the library,” Riley said. “How did …?”

  Riley’s voice faded. Trudy could pretty well guess what she wanted to ask. It had been pretty obvious when Trudy had left their room that her little outing was all about facing her fears.

  Trudy managed to smile a little.

  “It went OK,” she said.

  I didn’t get murdered, anyway, she thought.

  An awkward silence fell.

  Trudy noticed that Riley was looking quite nice, wearing a long, slim maxi skirt, a simple V-neck blouse, and boots that gave her outfit a nice casual touch. She wanted to ask Riley where she was going. But Riley had been a bit defensive lately whenever Trudy asked questions about her comings and goings.

  Finally Riley said hesitantly, “Uh, I’m just going out for a while. I don’t think I’ll be long. I’ll call if you if I’m going to be late. I hope that’s … OK.”

  Trudy winced a little as she remembered the scene she’d made when Riley had come in the Monday after the murder. She knew Riley had been staying in a lot more lately out of consideration for her.

  “Of course it’s OK,” Trudy said. Forcing a laugh she added, “What am I, your mother?”

  Riley laughed a bit uneasily.

  “OK,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”

  Riley turned and continued on her way out of the building. Trudy went on into their room, locked the door behind her, and sat down on her bed.

  In a few moments, she started to feel a little safer and breathed more easily.

  But she wondered …

  What does that say about me?

  She certainly didn’t feel as though she’d succeeded in conquering any fears.

  For a few moments back at the library, she’d thought she had. Now she wondered if maybe she never would.

  But was she going to stay cooped up right here in her room?

  Maybe—just maybe—she could summon up the nerve to go down to the common room to study and have a snack.

  A real adventure, she thought wryly. Maybe in a little while.

  She wondered again about where Riley might be going. Riley seemed different these days. She seemed distracted a lot, and some of her moods struck Trudy as dark and strange.

  But, she told herself, it wasn’t as if her own moods were exactly sunny and normal.

  It was that book, Trudy thought.

  Riley spent way too much time reading that book—the one she knew was in Riley’s desk drawer, the one about homicidal killers.

  What’s been going on in her mind? she thought.

  Trudy remembered something she’d said to Riley during her emotional outburst that night when Riley had gone out alone …

  “You’re my best friend. And the idea of losing you after what happened to Rhea …”

  Trudy felt a knot of sorrow in her throat.

  Was that what was happening?

  In a way, was she losing Riley as surely as she’d lost Rhea?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  When Riley left the dorm, the only car she saw waiting outside was a nice-looking Ford Mustang. She hesitated for a moment. It seemed to her to be a pretty classy vehicle for a student, even one in law school.

  At that moment, Ryan Paige got out of the Mustang and waved to Riley. He walked around and opened the passenger door for her, showing a touch more gallantry than she was used to from guys. She was beginning to feel that this evening might be more unusual than she had expected.

  As Riley walked to the Mustang and got in, she was aware that Ryan was looking her over with a pleased expression on his handsome features. Of course she took a good look at him too. The truth was, she thought he was just a wee bit overdressed for such an impromptu almost-date, with a dark vest over an expensive blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

  She wondered—might he be a little too formal and old-fashioned for her taste?

  As Ryan got in and started driving, he asked, “How have you been doing?”

  Riley sensed that the question was more than merely polite. After all, Ryan knew that she had been friends with Rhea and that she had found the body.

  “OK, I guess,” she said. “It’s been a weird time.”

  “It sure has,” Ryan said. “The whole school seems like a different place. Everybody’s so uptight and nervous, and there are all these rumors going around. And there’s so much suspicion. I’ve heard of guys getting ostracized just because they’re kind of odd and eccentric, treated like they were murderers. It’s not healthy.”

  Riley didn’t reply, but she certainly didn’t disagree. She remembered that the police had questioned poor awkward Rory Burdon. She wondered if maybe he, too, was being treated with suspicion these days on account of his visit from the cops. She ho
ped not.

  Ryan gave her a concerned glance, and she realized that she had been sitting there frowning.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t be talking about …”

  “It’s OK,” Riley said.

  But she didn’t volunteer any thoughts of her own on the subject.

  It was only a short drive to Pooh-Bah’s Pub. When they got to the front entrance, of course Ryan opened the door for Riley. She’d never been here before, but it was as upscale and posh as she’d expected—a bit of a shock to her system after the familiar grunginess of the Centaur’s Den.

  The place was nicely lit, revealing burnished woodwork and leather upholstery. Instead of the blare of rock music, jazz was playing quietly. Ryan led Riley over to a comfortable, private booth.

  Soon a young woman wearing a white shirt and a thin black necktie came over to take their drink orders.

  “Hi, Nyssa,” Ryan said to her with a smile.

  “Hi, Ryan,” the server said, smiling back at him.

  Riley wondered—was Ryan a regular at this swank place?

  Just how rich was he, anyway?

  The woman took their orders for glasses of red wine. After some tentative shyness, they began to talk a little—but not about the murder. As far as Riley was concerned, that was a relief.

  Before long, Riley began to feel pretty comfortable with her date. In spite of the setting, he began to seem more and more like just a regular guy. And like almost every guy Riley had ever known, he loved to talk about himself. He managed to mention his grades, which were of course excellent, and that he had his own apartment. Soon he was regaling Riley with his promising future, which he said just might include high political office.

  As she encouraged his account with brief responses, Riley automatically sorted the more likely from the improbable. She knew better than to take that last bit about his future seriously. Most of the male law students she’d met were sure they’d be president someday. Still, Ryan struck her as genuinely hard-working and conscientious. She didn’t doubt that he really was going to succeed in life.

  After a while, his autobiographical spiel slowed to a halt, and he began to look just a little bit embarrassed.

  Riley was amused.

  She was familiar with this phase of a date, in which a guy realizes he’s been talking all about himself way too long and it’s time to show some interest in the girl.

  “So,” he said. “Psychology.”

  Riley smiled at how he’d managed to abbreviate the question. In full, she figured it went something like …

  “What the hell do you think you’re going to do with a psychology degree?”

  At least he remembered what her area of study was.

  Riley shrugged.

  “I guess I’m just interested in human nature,” she said.

  Ryan tilted his head with interest.

  He said, “Maybe the dark side of human nature, judging from your reading habits. That book of Zimmerman’s you were reading looked pretty grim.”

  Riley didn’t know what to say. She was actually puzzled herself by the dark turns her thoughts had been taking lately.

  Ryan leaned back and looked at Riley as if he were studying her.

  He said, “My guess is you’ve had some pretty unsettling experiences at one time or another—stuff that you don’t talk about much. Am I right?”

  Riley winced.

  Between the murder of her mother and her difficult childhood and teenage years, Ryan was definitely not wrong.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  Ryan’s expression changed. Riley sensed that he realized he’d touched on something she preferred to leave alone, and that he was looking for some way to change the subject.

  She certainly hoped so.

  Then Ryan said, “Well, tell me some of the stuff you’ve learned about human nature from your studies so far.”

  He laughed nervously and added, “What about me, for instance? I’ve been sitting here carrying on about myself like an egocentric jerk—which I hope I’m not, by the way. But surely you’ve been able to figure out a few things about me that I haven’t actually talked about.”

  Riley felt a curious tingle. She had to admit, it was kind of an interesting question.

  What could she tell about Ryan Paige that he hadn’t already told her?

  She sat there observing him carefully.

  “You dress nice,” she said, checking out his expensive blue shirt and vest again. “But not too nice—not preppy nice. You’re not some pampered brat. If you were from a rich family, you’d have been bragging about it by now.”

  He smiled a little. Riley sensed that she was right so far.

  She continued, “My guess is you come from a working-class background. Your dad is maybe—what? A construction worker?”

  Ryan’s expression now showed a touch of surprise.

  He said, “A plumber, actually.”

  Riley was a bit surprised herself now. Her guess hadn’t been very far off.

  “And your mom?” Riley asked.

  “You tell me,” Ryan said.

  Riley thought for a moment.

  Then she said, “Well, she’s not a stay-at-home mom. Your family needs the extra income. Some kind of day job. But not skilled work, like your dad …”

  Ryan nodded and said, “She works as a clerk in a greeting card store. She’s been working there since I was big enough to go to kindergarten.”

  Riley was really starting to get into this little exercise.

  She was also liking what she was figuring out about Ryan.

  “You live pretty well for a college student,” she said. “There’s your car, for instance—a nice Ford Mustang. But …”

  She paused as she remembered the feel of the car.

  Then she said, “You bought it used. Or you made a good trade for it—maybe a car that your parents bought you as a high school graduation gift or something like that.”

  Ryan’s eyes had widened.

  She continued, “You work hard, and not just in your studies. I’m pretty sure you’ve worked your way through school, made your own way—night jobs during your undergraduate years, and you still work summers at least …”

  Riley paused again, trying to imagine what kind of job Ryan might have had.

  Suddenly she remembered the familiar look he had exchanged with the young woman who had served them.

  And now she realized …

  No, it wasn’t because he’s a regular customer.

  She said. “You’ve worked right here at Pooh-Bah’s—as a bartender, I’ll bet.”

  Riley could tell by Ryan’s startled expression that she was right.

  She was feeling quite energized now as hunches kept coming to her.

  “You’re an only child,” she said. “And that’s part of why you drive yourself really hard. You want your parents to be proud of you, because you’re all they’ve got. You’re really hungry for success. And you figure that the best way to become successful is to act successful.”

  Ryan’s mouth had dropped open.

  “How am I doing so far?” Riley asked.

  Ryan just nodded with a surprised and uneasy smile.

  “Do you want to hear more?” she asked.

  “Um … I don’t think so,” he said.

  His words took her aback. He didn’t sound exactly pleased with her insights.

  Maybe I went a little too far, she thought.

  Then Ryan said, “Forget about psychology. You should be a cop.”

  Riley felt really stung now.

  There was an edge to his voice that told her he didn’t mean that in a nice way.

  He was saying that she was definitely not what he’d expected—and not the kind of girl he was interested in, either.

  After all, she thought …

  What kind of future lawyer wants to date a would-be cop?

  Not that Riley wanted to be a cop—not by any means.

  She thought about saying so
, but quickly thought better of it.

  I’ve said too much already, she figured.

  Riley and Ryan finished their drinks pretty much in silence. Neither of them mentioned the possibility of an end-of-the-week date with dinner and a movie. The truth was, Riley felt it was just as well. Ryan was obviously an especially insecure young male, and even though she was intensely attracted to him, she didn’t think he suited her.

  As Ryan drove her home, Riley remembered the flow of insights she’d spouted earlier.

  Where did all that come from? she wondered.

  She’d always known she was pretty observant, but this kind of behavior was new for her—especially the part where she told someone what she was figuring out about them.

  When Ryan pulled up in front of the dorm, he unbuckled his seat belt as if he intended to walk her to the door—purely for her safety, she was sure. A goodnight kiss was definitely not in the works.

  “It’s OK, I’m good,” she said, getting out of the car alone.

  She walked inside the dorm and looked out through the glass door as Ryan drove away in his nice Ford Mustang.

  She suddenly felt terribly sad.

  Life had changed so much since Rhea had died.

  Riley knew that she had changed—and she was still changing in ways she couldn’t seem to predict.

  What did all this mean for her future?

  She sighed, and as she walked toward her room she only felt sure of one thing …

  Whatever that future was going to be like, Ryan Paige wasn’t going to be part of it.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  When Riley opened the door to her dorm room, a small light was blinking in the darkness. The answering machine was signaling a new message.

  Who could that be? she wondered.

  For a fleeting moment she imagined it might be Ryan calling her from his car …

  “Hey, Riley, we forgot to talk about getting together later this week …”

  Of course she knew it wouldn’t be him—and it was just as well. She certainly didn’t want a repeat of the awkward outing they’d just had. No, they hadn’t hit it off, and that was that. She didn’t even feel sad about it.