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Authors: Kate Flora

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BOOK: Stalking Death
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She listened attentively, as though she cared about what I was saying, but her face remained skeptical. "Why aren't you taking those concerns to Craig Dunham? Her advisor? Or Security? Aren't they in a better position to help?" She wrapped her hands around her knee and leaned forward. "It's not a good idea to traipse through the dorms, asking for Shondra. I think our students are upset enough already."

I debated whether or not to tell some more truth. It seemed in short supply on this campus, and I had no idea where this woman stood or what she knew. On the other hand, she was the only person, other than the coaches, who'd voiced concern about the impact of all this on the students.

"Shondra doesn't trust her advisor. She feels betrayed by the way her complaints about Alasdair were handled. I don't think she has any kind of relationship with Dunham. I already tried Jenna Adams and she put me off."

Mrs. Weston studied her hands. "Why do you think Jen and Lindsay might be able to help?"

"I'm not sure they can," I said. "But she sometimes confided in them. She may be physically big and act tough, but she's still just a sixteen-year-old girl. The only person here she's close to has been arrested. Her room was trashed and all her things destroyed. Yesterday, she either took, or was given, an overdose of drugs. She's out there all alone and she may still be at risk from certain elements on this campus."

I watched her closely as I said this last, to see if she'd react, but if she knew what I was referring to, she didn't let it show.

She slowly smoothed her skirt, evidently considering what I'd said, and looked at me, a serious look. For a second, I thought she was going to help. Then she unknotted her hands, rose, and walked over to the window, staring out with her back to me.

Finally, she turned. "You've been frank, so I will be frank in return. You wouldn't have any reason to know this, but Jen Reilly hasn't had an easy time here at St. Matthews. This year she seems to be back on her feet, regaining some of her confidence. I'm not willing to allow her to get involved in anything that might disturb that recovery. Not even to help out a friend." She picked up a coffee mug from the table and drank.

"All I want to do is talk with them, Mrs. Weston. I'm not asking to take them around the campus with me, scouting out Shondra's secret hide-outs. It's not like I want them exposed to any risk from Alasdair's Neo-Skulls."

The mug slipped from her hands, splashing coffee on her light blue rug.

"What do you know about the Neo-Skulls, Mrs. Weston? I think they're a serious problem for St. Matthews... or perhaps I should say, a serious threat to St. Matthews' girls, but they can't be stopped if everyone pretends to know nothing about them."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking at the mess instead of at me. "I'm afraid I can't help you. And you may not bother Jen Reilly."

"What about Shondra? Don't you care about her? Don't you care that the Administration seems to be condoning the sexual harassment and possibly the assault of young girls?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I'm not in a position to change the culture on this campus. You'll have to take that up with Todd Chambers. But I do everything I can to make the girls in this dorm safe."

"Is everyone a part of this conspiracy?" I said. "Has Chambers got you so cowed you're all willing to sit back and let this happen if it means St. Matthews will get fancy buildings from big bucks donors? I doubt that what happened to Jen is an isolated incident."

She shook her head sadly. "The incident with Jen happened before Chambers got here. Yes, there are problems here. They're isolated incidents, but they happen. We just have to do what we can. This is a beautiful place with a fine faculty. We give our students a good education. You have no idea how difficult it would be to find this somewhere else... two faculty positions and living conditions like this."

She walked purposefully to the door and opened it. "Good evening, Ms. Kozak."

Before I left, I fired one last shot across her bow. "I don't know whether there are mandatory reporting laws here in New Hampshire," I said, "but if there are, and you have knowledge of harm, or the threat of harm, to the girls in your care, and you haven't reported it, when all of this comes out and parents jerk their kids out of St. Matts, your problem won't be finding another good position in a lovely place. It will be trying to find a glimpse of the sky through jail bars." I left her with a shocked look and one hand spread like a starfish over her hardened heart.

I knew I should just go back to The Swan, eat bonbons until my meeting with Suzanne, and leave. Mother Theresa couldn't do anything with these people. I stomped out to the car, got in, and slammed the door. Then, because losing my temper would get me nowhere, I pulled out my phone and dialed Jen Reilly's number. It rang a few times, then asked me to leave a message. I disconnected and tried Lindsay. Never say die Kozak. I must have a perversity gene.

"It's Thea Kozak," I said when she answered. "From this morning. I'm sitting in my car behind your dorm. I need your help, if you're willing. Shondra's missing."

"She's out of the hospital? When she wasn't at practice, I thought maybe they'd kept her another day. Nothing keeps Shondra from practice."

"I picked her up this morning, took her to see her brother, and then... well. It's a long story. The short version is that my car got damaged and we were going to get a ride back here with Frank Woodson, but Shondra ran away."

"Oh, well. You couldn't know this, but she doesn't like Mr. Woodson."

"Look." I was feeling a sense of urgency. Shondra was out on this campus somewhere with those incriminating pictures, and no one could be trusted. "I just tried to come see you and your dorm head, Mrs. Weston, wouldn't let me."

"Yeah, that's how she is. She's okay," Lindsay said. "Just a little too protective. Better than Shondra's housemother. That bitch... I mean... well, you've met her, haven't you? She treats Shondra like some dangerous creature about to go out of control. Shondra said it used to make her want to do mean things, but after a while she figured it wasn't worth it."

"Mrs. Leverett didn't notice?"

"Something like that." Lindsay laughed. "You want me to come down?"

"If you can. I really need to find her. I think Alasdair's friends, whoever they are, pose a real risk to Shondra."

"You bet they do," she interrupted. "We never got a chance to talk about this, but Alasdair and them... I've heard... have done some awful stuff and not just to Jen. We can't stop it, so we kind of work together. You know, protect the new girls and all. But stuff still happens. Look, I'll be right down."

"When is curfew?"

"Ten."

It was 9:20. "What if she tries to stop you?"

"From dashing to the library? How could she? This isn't jail."

I snapped the phone shut, sucked in a breath, and let it slowly out. I was losing my temper. I haven't got ESP, but I've got an acute sense of impending disaster, and right now, the inside of my head was like a railroad crossing—clanging bells, flashing lights and big striped barriers going up and down. I hate situations where I'm not in control. Even more, I hate the ones where I know something's going on and I've only got the faintest clue what it is.

Lindsay came around the corner of the building. I opened the door and got out so she could see me. As she raised an arm and waved, a dark figure came racing toward her from the trees behind the parking lot, heavy feet thudding on the tarmac. As it crossed the pool of light from the solitary security fixture, I recognized Shondra.

Lindsay saw her at the same time, veered away from me, and went to meet her. I saw the two heads come together, bend down, and rise like a pair of startled deer to look at me. Then they both raced off into the trees. I took off after them.

Chapter 29

I did pretty well for a while, following their thudding feet through the maze of dormitory buildings and up the slope toward the rest of the campus. As they came up the hill toward the main road, they were briefly silhouetted against a street light, two long-legged figures with flying hair. Then they were swallowed up by trees on the other side.

It was dark and I didn't know the campus. I lost them when we got the section of the campus that housed the classroom buildings. There were muffled voices, the scrunching of feet, and then a door clanged. I couldn't tell where. I was surrounded by buildings with multiple entry doors. I hung around, watching for the shafts of light that signaled an opened door, and listened, in case they reemerged. There was nothing but night sounds.

What now? I could go back to the dorm. Catch Lindsay when she returned. She was due pretty soon with curfew at ten. But I was betting she'd blow off curfew if Shondra needed her help. They might see if they could get Jen Reilly to join them. I could go back and watch for her but it was kind of a long shot.

I considered my options. Right now, I had two priorities—finding Shondra and finding that camera, both the same task, really. On my secondary list were all my questions about the Neo-Skulls, who had been driving that little gray car, why someone had attacked me and Shondra, and whether she was safe on this campus. All the questions on my secondary list really lead up to the big questions—why, with a campus murder and all its fall-out to deal with, did Todd Chambers so determinedly resist our help and refuse to keep Shondra safe, and why was he so complacent in the face of a crisis? What did he know, or think he knew, that explained his behavior?

I thought the answers began with identifying the Neo-Skulls. I assumed that they were behind the attack on me and the trashing of Shondra's room. I wasn't risking my head again. If I could identify them, I'd give that information to Bushnell, who was probably a competent cop even if he was a jerk, and beat a hasty and sensible retreat.

Right now, I was standing in a dark parking lot with no idea what to do. If Molly Weston and the coaches were examples of how cooperative people on this campus would be, I might as well just go back to The Swan and pack. Chambers had things buttoned up pretty tight. Was that the source of his arrogant confidence? That it didn't matter what he allowed to happen on the campus because no one would talk?

Shondra Jones had gotten people talking and gotten the parents upset, and she'd been marginalized. If the Chambers had their way, she'd probably be tossed out on her ear as a lesson to others who thought about making waves, if she survived her return to St. Matthews. Andre had called Shondra my latest waif and I guess he was right. While others might see a tall, fierce, aggressive woman, I saw a terrified sixteen-year-old who was in over her head. I was feeling very guilty about suggesting she stay at St. Matts. I should have taken her to the nearest bus station and sent her home.

Standing on this vast campus on a cold October night, I was at a loss about how to find her or how to help her by fixing the dangerous situation on this campus. I also knew I couldn't leave while Shondra's situation was so precarious. Who was my best resource for identifying the Neo-Skulls and finding Shondra?

Todd Chambers knew the campus and the identity of the players, but he wouldn't help. He just wanted me gone. I didn't know how much Dunham knew, but he lacked backbone. That left Woodson. Security people usually knew a lot. He had staff who could help me find Shondra, and if he knew his student population, he might be able to help me identify the Neo-Skulls and assess how dangerous a threat they were. He seemed like my last hope.

I got out my map and clicked on my flashlight. The campus security offices were at the far back of the campus, housed in one end of a long building that also garaged the maintenance vehicles. If he had any sense, Woodson was home sipping a medicinal Scotch, but he'd seemed conscientious, so maybe while things were in a state of high alert, he was still at work. I clicked off my light and headed back to the car.

I'm a great believer in walking, but it was easily half a mile from where I was to where I wanted to be across a dark campus. After last night, I was taking no unnecessary nocturnal strolls. I climbed into the Jeep and fired it up. I was already getting attached to the big engine, the comfortable leather seats, and the sense of power and superiority that came from sitting up high. If I was going to live with Maine winters, maybe I needed a Jeep.

I wound my way through the maze of roads, following the signs to Buildings and Grounds and Security. I parked in front of the dimly lit building and sat a moment in the warm, dark car, planning what I'd say. Unlike Chambers, who had constructed his own reality, and his cowed underlings, Woodson might see the wisdom of the argument that making the campus safer protected his job.

BOOK: Stalking Death
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