We don’t have to wait long before the professor comes traipsing in. Mrs. Carpenter takes a few minutes setting up notes before she begins lecture. Thankfully, I study the chapters before we learn them. It helps me understand more. Plus, I hate feeling stupid. A few students murmur behind me. They share a giggle. Mrs. Carpenter pauses in the middle of her sentence.
“I’m so glad you find this funny.” The long pencil skirt she’s wearing accentuates her thin frame. “The final is only a few weeks away and it will be cumulative of the entire semester.”
Groans erupt around me. I’ve been prepared for this. Maybe my memory of the previous problems will offset the new stuff I can’t seem to understand. Apparently, no one else agrees with me.
“Now, if you let me finish this last problem, I can hand out the study packet and focus on review.”
The class settles down and my incessant note taking begins again. Mrs. Carpenter is still explaining the problem when my eyes begin to blur. Slowly, my mind goes numb at the continued sound of her soft voice.
Lights flashing. A face swims before me. Laughter fills my ears. Strobe lights pass over me once. My eyes blink a few times. I’m trying to focus. The floor is floating. It’s moving in waves. I’m swaying like I’m in a boat. An arm grabs me.
“Whoa there, little lady. I think it’s time to take you home.”
“Take me home.” I hear my own voice repeat.
More laughter.
I blink, the green chalkboard before me once more. Oh my God, was that a flashback from this weekend? I remember the guys from the bar; they bought me a drink. Should I call John? I reach for my phone.
“Ms. Swanson, please put the phone away.”
“Oh, sorry.” My face turns bright red. This is why I hate being in front. As I slip my phone back into my pocket, I realize I don’t have John’s number. He took mine. I release a breath, reluctantly returning my attention to the teacher.
The days seem to fly by; there never seems to be enough time to study for finals. My life is a blur of papers and homework, study guides and lectures. But my older brother, Bedford, doesn’t seem to care about my future, because he insists on texting me a zillion times about his Memorial Day weekend barbeque.
His text messages go from friendly to threatening me with bodily harm if I don’t attend with Meg. I think he’s developed a crush since I brought her home for Thanksgiving last year.
I hardly see Meg anymore. She has her own extracurricular activities. Maybe she’s trying to keep busy to avoid thinking about Troy. I can’t say for sure, because we haven’t talked in a few days. Maybe I should worry, but I honestly hadn’t noticed until now. My grades come first. The only reason I even agree to go to Bedford’s party, it’s on the Friday of my very last exam. I won’t have my grades yet, but it will be my little reward for finishing them. Plus, I only have a week before summer session. The accelerated law program doesn’t leave much room for extracurricular activities. So, my brother’s party gives me an excuse to relax.
I’m unlocking the door to my dorm when I hear a commotion inside. My keys jingle against the door until it swings in. Meggie is on her hands and knees picking up shards of glass on the floor.
“What happened?” I step inside, crouching beside her.
“I threw that stupid glass figurine Troy got me.”
“Um, why?”
She peeks up at me, a red tendril falling across her face. “He hasn’t called.”
“Like at all?”
“Nope.” Her voice is so final; so defeated.
“He’s a total jerk. Don’t even give him a second thought.”
“Ugh, I know. I just need to get over him. What better way to get over him than to get under someone else.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” I giggle.
“Not yet. Want to come search with me?”
“As much as that sounds like fun—”
“I know. I know you have to study for finals.”
I pick up a few shards of glass. “My brother is having a barbeque next weekend if you want to go?”
“That hot, hunky brother of yours? Hmm, maybe.”
“Um, gross.”
“It’s true. Bedford is a total Hottie McHoterson.”
“That’s my brother.”
“I don’t mind.”
I laugh. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”
Once again, laughter brings my best friend back to life. It seems no matter how far guys knock us down, friends can always throw you a rope and help you up again. Maybe we have things all wrong. Could it possibly be that friends are our soul mates? Love is just some false façade, driven by attraction and lust.
The ceiling is littered with the shadow of trees. They loom above like creepy fingers taunting me. I’ve been staring at them for what seems like hours. Sleep has yet to find me tonight—The same the night before and the one before, as well. I’ve tried it all: warm milk, counting sheep, and not having coffee after two in the afternoon. Tonight, I resort to giving in to insomnia and staring at the ceiling until I pass out.
Maybe a change of scenery will allow my awareness to drift. I turn onto my side. The pillow intersecting half my vision, I force my mind to relax. The scent on my pillow is beginning to fade. For days, it’s carried the scent of Becca’s shampoo – roses. Now, the scent is waning and all I can seem to focus on is the fact that it’s missing.
“Ugh.” I bury my face in the pillow, still smelling roses.
“Smith. Smith!”
I pick my head off the table, almost knocking over a stack of papers. I rub the sleep from my eyes before glancing up at Matt’s amused face.
“Lab’s on line three for you.” He places the receiver down, allowing me to pick up the call.
“About time.” I swing the phone closer, press the line, and unravel the cord.
“Luce, any word on the sample I sent you?”
“Sorry, John, I’m swamped right now.” There’s rustling on the other end. “I tried looking for it, but it must be somewhere in this insane pile of samples.”
I sigh. “Okay, will you call me as soon as you finish running it?”
“You know I will.”
“Thanks, Luce. Talk to ya soon.”
“Bye.” She hangs up after a distant phone rings near her.
“Fuck.” I return the receiver and lean against my arm.
“I take it you didn’t sleep again last night?” Matt’s curious eyes peek across our conjoined desks.
“I wish. It’s not even like that. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“Sure,” Matt teases. “So, what did the lab want?”
“I was just checking on that sample I’d sent.”
“The girl from the bar last weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s really got you in a funk, huh?”
“What?” My arm falls flat against the desk.
He looks at me over his glasses. “Smith, that was the first Friday in like two years you haven’t taken a girl home for sex.” He pauses. “Since then, you’ve become like obsessed with her date-rape case.”
“Attempted rape,” I correct. “And it almost happened right under my nose – wouldn’t that bother you?”
“Nothing happened. You have a hard-on for this girl.”
“I do not. She’s not my type.”
“What type is that? Smart? Morally sound?… Or is it because she’s blonde?”
“All of the above.” I stifle a laugh.
“Face it, Smithy, this girl’s got you by the balls.” His hand reaches out and cups the air for emphasis.
“You’re delusional. This is just business.”
“Smith.” Chief Carson’s voice resounds across the precinct. She stands at the edge of the hallway with both hands on her hips, a stance I’ve grown to learn she means business. “My office, now.”
“Good luck,” Matt whispers, keeping his eyes down. If there was one thing we’ve learned with our new chief, it was to always
look busy. She’ll find something for you to do, even if it means scrubbing toilets. I close the folder on my desk and shove it into a drawer before following her. She’s seated behind that ridiculously huge desk of hers—Took four grown men to get it inside.
“Chief, what’s up?”
“Have a seat.” She indicates a chair in front of her desk.
Oh great, this is going to be a long one. I walk inside, making myself at home in her leather chairs. She took no time redecorating after the old chief of Angelica passed away from a heart attack – too many donuts. The office now looks like a rich person’s study, not the commanding officer of a small town police force. But, what do I know?
“So.” She shuffles some papers on her desk. “Have you confirmed GHB was used at The Bar?”
“Not yet. Still waiting on the lab; I touched base earlier.”
She nods. “I want to keep an eye on this. A college town does not need this kind of reputation. We need to nip the situation in the bud now. I want these culprits prosecuted. They need to be made an example of so it doesn’t reoccur.”
“Don’t worry, I’m on it. Still going through security footage; I’ll have an ID soon.”
“Good.” She nods, loving to feel like she’s in charge. “Now, anything on the mysterious disappearances?”
“No new leads.”
“Well, I need answers. Dig up some dirt; go back to the first disappearance, retrace your steps. I need to tell these families something. It’s been almost two years and we haven’t turned up anything. We look like morons. A good precinct would have some clues by now. People don’t just disappear without a trace.”
“I agree, but that’s how it appears.”
“Was it a cult? Religious sacrifice? Murder? Where are these people, Smith? Ask a set of fresh eyes to review the case files. I’m giving you permission to start a task force. I want some news or leads soon.”
I nod. “Yes, Chief.”
She looks around before responding. “You know, Smith, you’re the only one with any brains here.” I glance up. “I think you would make a great detective. Show me you can handle this, produce something I can bring to the commanders, and the promotion is yours.”
My eyes must be bulging out of their sockets right now because I have to remind myself to blink. I blink three more times before opening my mouth to respond. “Yes, Thank you, Chief.”
“Good, now go. Send Todd in here. “
I wince at Matt’s last name. They call him by it so often people actually think that’s his first name. Much like me, I guess. His head is still down when I reappear. He’s furiously writing something down.
“You’re up, partner.” I palm his desk.
“Oh, joy,” he deadpans. “If I’m not out in five minutes come interrupt about a call we have to take.
“You got it.”
Instead of watching the clock, I fold my arms and rest my head.
Matt straps his seat belt back on in silence. He’s still rather pissed at me for not pulling him out of that meeting—Reamed me a new one when he found me face down on my desk again. He hasn’t really said much to me since. Chief Carson came out from the commotion and sent us both out on a call: numerous calls, actually. On one, a man was running around covered in blood, scaring folks.
I don’t even have the cruiser in park before we spot the man everyone was calling about. He’s running down the street, covered head to toe in dried, maroon-colored blood.
“Holy shit.” Matt mumbles.
We double park and leap out of the car, sprinting after him. He has a head start on us.
“Police! Stop!” Matt attempts to call to him.
The man stops short. His back straightens. Slowly, he turns to face us.
I hear Matt gasp when he does. The man’s eyes are wide, crazy. There is blood everywhere. It’s dried into his hair, smeared across his face, down his white shirt, and he’s leaving remnants with every step he takes.
The stranger blinks. “Where am I?”
“Nice try,” Matt replies, slinking behind him and slapping a pair of cuffs around his wrists.
“What is going on?” The man tries again. His eyes lock with mine and they look genuinely confused. He then glances down at himself. “Whose blood is this? What happened?” He starts shaking.
“We were hoping you could tell us.” I finally find my voice. “Where did you come from?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you live around here?” I maintain eye contact with him. He glances around.
“Around the corner. 235 Maple.”
“Put him in the car. Let’s go check this out.”
Matt tosses him in the car. We draw our guns and follow his bloody footsteps back to 235 Maple Ave.
The door is wide open as we enter a definite crime scene. The house is a mess. Furniture is broken and scattered. Papers are thrown about the room. A window is broken, blowing warm air into the house, curtains slumping on the floor.
“There was definitely a struggle.” Matt states the obvious aloud.
“There’s so much blood. But no body.”
“Unless he disposed of it already.”
“Does that guy look like he knows what he’s doing? He’s running around covered in blood.”
“Psych defense?” Matt offers.
“It just seems… off.”
I follow the bloody footsteps to a wall. I knock my fist in a few spots, but it’s solid. Gliding my hand across the wood, I find no edges, no openings.
I glance down at the footsteps. They appear to be coming out from this wall. “Call the Chief. We need detectives down here.”
The walk back to the car is silent. Both of us have a lot on our minds. Mostly, because we have no idea what we just witnessed. Climbing into the cruiser, we ignore the questions from the bloody stranger in the back seat, heading back to the precinct.
First disappearances, now strange blood-soaked men: what is going to happen next? Something strange is going on in this small town of Angelica, NY. I’m determined to figure out what it is.
By the time I arrive to my brother’s ‘little get together’, the only parking space available is two streets down. Meggie found other plans, so I’m forced to arrive alone and face bodily harm from my older brother. The front door of his lake house is wide open as I make my way between people, recognizing a few faces from Bedford’s high school football team and others from his fraternity.
I continue weaving my way inside when my eyes find Courtney. Her exotic eyes catch mine halfway across the house before she comes bounding up to me.
“Becca! I’m so happy to see you.” Her dark hair encompasses me as I’m pulled into a big hug—Obviously, alcoholically enhanced. “It’s been so long.”
“Hey, Court, have you seen my brother?” If anyone knows where he is, it would be her. They have been best friends since sixth grade. She’s been over to my house more times than I can remember. She taught me how to use a tampon and walk in high heels. She’s the person I turned to for things I couldn’t ask my uptight mother. I swear she and Bedford are perfect for each other, but they are the kind of best friends who would never cross that line. I think part of their friendship magic is because she’s the only girl who didn’t fall for his charm. That’s just what he needs: someone to put him in his place. But still, deep down I have hope for it.
“I think I saw him out on the deck.” She points to the back of the house. “Have you seen his hot Wall Street friends?” She winks at me. “You should go check them out.”
She slips past me, waving to someone behind me, and I take my leave. Heading through the wide living room towards the deck, I happen to notice all the renovations he’s made to the house. A new entertainment center is propped up on the wall, bigger than my entire bed. Black leather couches line the walls in an L shape with a glass table in the center, which I personally wouldn’t have around this kind of crowd. But if anyone can afford a new one, it would be my brother. Ever since his financial
internship from college turned into this huge job offer and promotion upon promotion, I doubt he even has to worry about money. Like father, like son. Meanwhile, I have to worry about something as simple as a cell phone payment.
Through the screen door, I can see him. My brother is wearing the most obnoxious red, white, and blue shirt imaginable. He has sunglasses and a belt to match the hideous shirt. He’s topped the look with a rolled up, red bandana around his forehead. Bro’s taking his yearbook vote as ‘Most School Spirit’ just a little too seriously. I’m silently regretting coming, having a million other things I should be doing right now, and fun is not one of them. I can have fun like this when I find as much success as Bedford has. A drunken girl pushes me. She practically tosses me into the side of the couch before bursting through the sliding door screaming something about needing someone to lift her up for a keg stand. Once her commotion is over, Bedford’s eyes meet mine and I know there’s no way I’m going to be able to get out of here.
“Becky! You made it! Come here.” He motions me to come out onto the deck. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Yeah, you know Beddy, I really should get back... I have some work…”
He puts his arm around me, guiding me over to a table set on the deck with a perfect unobstructed view of the lake. “Becky, you remember Rod and Hunter.” He drunkenly points out all his friends from high school that I’ve met tons of times, mainly when I was cleaning up their puke from the bathroom floor.
“Then this here is Kevin and Mike.” Kevin and Mike are new to me. They must be the Wall Street boys Courtney was talking about. I can see what she meant; totally gorgeous in that I’m hot-and-I-know-it kind of way.
“Where is… Here he is! Smith, meet my little sister, Becca.” He spins me just in time to meet the eyes of Officer John Smith.
Well, I’ll be damned. My brother talks about his friends a lot, but when he mentions his crazy partner in crime named ‘Smith’, I never thought it would be the hot bouncer from the bar.
He looks good. He has this red tee shirt on that makes his arms bulge and tan really pop. He’s trying to juggle five beers in his hands when his mouth drops open at the sight of me. I almost do the same. The sight of him off duty—he’s different. At the bar, he’s always stern, calculated. When I caught sight of him in uniform, he has that same professional vibe to him. I think seeing him in casual clothes with beer in his hands, makes me a little curious.
Uncovering Officer Smith (The Discovering Trilogy #2) Page 5
