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“Where’s this going, Jenna?” Kane lifted his cup and sipped.
“Say it wasn’t Lyons and his friends who raped Chrissie—what if it was members of a rival team? Maybe they figured we’d haul in Lyons and his friends for Chrissie’s rape. When that didn’t work, one or more of them went postal and decided to kill the players.”
“Uh-huh.” Kane rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess if we could prove someone else overheard Lyons asking Chrissie to the party, it might be possible. We know Lyons lures girls to the house to rape them and has been doing so for some time.”
Exasperated, Jenna stared at him. “Yeah, you’re probably right, I’m just grabbing at straws—and from what Livi told me, it’s not a secret. Guys like him, who have fathers to make their mistakes go away, often brag about breaking the law, and it’s not too far-fetched to believe the other teams are aware of his deviate behavior. Think about it. Lyons has just scored. He’s found an innocent young girl willing to go to the party alone. Do you honestly believe he’d keep the news to himself? No way, he’d be crowing to everyone involved in his dirty little games.” She tossed the bangs out of her eyes. “They’d all be in on the plan, wouldn’t they? Anyone could have overheard them.”
“So why bleach the room? We know Chrissie was there, it had to be them. Duke picked up her scent.” Kane leaned back in his chair. “Unless the other players dropped her at the house and she staggered inside for help.” His mouth turned down at the edges. “Lyons and his gang are sick enough to use the situation to their advantage—like I’ve said before, rape is violence, not sexual gratification.” He sighed. “Then there’s the vehicle. We know it belongs to the janitor and we have positive proof Chrissie was inside.”
“But when was she in the car?” Jenna stared at the whiteboard. “We know she was given a ride home in the silver sedan but that doesn’t prove it was the same vehicle that she was seen getting into by Livi. It was dark and she wasn’t sure of the color.” She threw her hands in the air. “We sure haven’t gotten much to go on up to now, have we?”
“You mentioned chasing down Stein, Jones, and Lowe—that’s a start.” Kane finished his coffee, collected the empty bags, and stood to throw them in the trash.
Jenna looked up at him. “Okay, make a call to the college security; if they are on campus, we’ll go see them. And call the office at the college as well to find out if someone has turned in Chrissie’s cellphone and shoes. I’m going to write a press release about the missing items and hope someone in town has found them.” She frowned. “I might mention a reward with no questions asked for their return. With any luck, we’ll get a break in this case.”
Moments after Jenna had disconnected from her local media contact, her cellphone chimed. She glanced at the caller ID. It was Wolfe. “Hi Shane, do you have any good news for me?”
“Some. I have nothing to add to my conclusion of Devon’s death. His autopsy showed nothing of interest but the cranial autopsy did show a hematoma below the scalp, which only means he was alive after the blow to his head. So it could have occurred during football practice.”
Jenna pushed away the awful memory of the autopsy and cleared her throat. “What about the evidence from the janitor’s vehicle?”
“I’ve identified two of the foreign hairs in the janitor’s sedan as belonging to Jacobs and Devon.” Wolfe took a deep breath. “Jacobs could have been responsible for the bruises on Chrissie Lowes’ arms; his hands fit. I’ve made an impression of the ring and compared it to the mark on her skin. And I was able to extract a small amount of DNA from the ring. I’m testing it now. If it comes back as a match for Chrissie, we’ll know he was involved. The DNA traces I found were blood, caught around the stones in the ring. He might have been the one who hit her and split her lip. The blood we found on the stairs is her blood type, and alcohol is in the sample. It will take a few more days before we know for sure if it’s Chrissie’s.”
A wave of relief swept over Jenna. At last some headway in the case. “Anything on the blood trace in the car?”
“Yeah, it’s a match for Chrissie’s blood type.” Wolfe sighed. “I hope the DNA test will prove beyond doubt Chrissie was in the house and in the janitor’s vehicle after the rape, but we have no evidence to prove it was the same car she got into on Saturday night.”
“Thanks for rushing this through. I really appreciate it, Shane.”
“It’s my job but I appreciate an ego stroke from time to time.” He chuckled. “I’ll write up my reports and bring them over to you in the morning.”
The line went dead and Jenna smiled. “I’m sure lucky to have such a great team.”
She stood, grabbed her jacket, and headed out the door. She met Kane at the front counter. “Any luck with the lost-and-found?”
“Nope.” Kane straightened from leaning on the counter. “Both items are distinctive, so it didn’t take too long. Security will be looking out for them in case they’re turned in.” He handed h
er a go-cup of coffee. “And we’re in luck, Stein and Jones are in the library, so we can go and speak to them now.”
“We’ll stop by the feed store on the way back and speak to Lowe.”
“I sure hope nothing else happens while we’re out.” Kane slid his Stetson on his head and made his way to the front door. “We’re getting snowed under now.”
Jenna grimaced. “This is Black Rock Falls. If it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen here.”
Thirty-Two
The sky seemed to go on forever above a million pines, and fluffy white clouds nestled over the mountaintops like cotton candy wigs. He hadn’t been at peace for a long time. Of late, his mind had muddled events into streams of images frayed at the edges or incomplete like the faded color of an old photograph, but all this had changed the first time he’d lain down on the college roof. On his back, hidden between two huge air conditioning units, the gritty cement was hard against his spine as he stared at the screen watching a live feed from the drone.
It was like watching a reality show, the weird and entertaining daily lives of the students and faculty. All had secrets and stories to tell. Most people lied or exaggerated happenings in their lives. It was as if there wasn’t enough excitement in their humdrum existence, so they had to make up stories to impress their friends. The gossip reminded him of the kids’ game where a story is told to one person at the beginning of a line and asked to pass it on. By the time the story arrives at the final person, it’s a different story, with so many embellishments and add-ons it doesn’t come close to the truth.
He’d come to the conclusion people acted like ants, all with a job to do or a place to go. Some so predictable he could set his watch to them. Take Emily Wolfe, for example: this semester, each afternoon at four, she’d drive to the forest, park in the parking lot, and then run up the path alongside the rapids. But did she take the switchback and come back down like everyone else? Not Emily. She jogged past the top of the rapids and weaved her way along an old trail that eventually led to the top of Black Rock Falls—the actual place the founders had used to name the county and the sprawling town.
Once there she would stand staring out across the wide-open vista, to the town spreading out way below and the miles of grasslands stretching into the next county. After a short break, she’d turn back around and then head down the winding pathway, past the old dilapidated bridge spanning the river, and then follow the trail down to the parking lot.
In fact, he’d discovered many secrets of late. The tiny drone had offered him the opportunity to eavesdrop on just about any conversation. If he didn’t find a convenient window, most people were too busy checking out their cellphones to notice his tiny machine hovering above their heads. His drone had been close by when Emily had told Webber about jogging to the top of the falls at four each day. It made sense: she’d chosen the most popular time, as usually there would be a number of other students on the lower trail. Nice and safe.
Nowhere is nice and safe, Emily. Nowhere.
