House of Steel (19 page)

Groups of students were clustered together
among the tables and chairs throughout the usual open space. Police
officers dotted throughout the crowds, some talking with students
while others sat behind laptops set up at tables. The panels of
windows covering most of the south and east walls streamed in the
haze of the late afternoon sun just a couple hours away from
dipping below the horizon. The darkness of the winter wouldn’t lead
the search party far.

Delaney noted two of the counselors on staff
weaving in and out of the students, giving reassuring pats and
hugs. She stepped to the side and watched the movement of the
crowd, her eyes fixed on a man, presumably a student, taking the
reins with a stack of flyers in his hand. A warm, wet nudge on her
hand startled her. She looked down to see the eyes of a German
Shepherd staring back at her before he went back to sniffing her
arm and jacket.

“Sorry, ma’am. He’s new to the force.” A man
in a uniform pulled on the dog’s leash. His badge read Schaefer.
Delaney’s eyes followed the badge up to meet his eyes. They were
set in a perfectly symmetrical, smooth face. He was gorgeous - the
type of beautiful that you usually didn’t see in Appleton.

“No problem,” she stammered, brushing her
jacket off. She looked up to give another forced smile at the man.
She had to blend in, seem normal.

“He’s got a great nose, but forgets when
he’s off duty, which is at the moment in here. He got a whiff of
the missing student’s clothes just a couple of minutes ago,” he
added before he flashed a bright smile that would have melted any
normal woman’s heart and walked past her with the dog.

The blood on my jacket. Theron’s
smell.
She brushed her jacket again, pretending to look for
something in her pocket. There were no stains. She looked back up,
her attention back on the student wearing a backpack, handing out
stacks of flyers to other students. He was tall, with a thick frame
just like Theron, wearing a LU football knit cap on his head.
A
teammate
.

“Yeah, that’s his roommate, Mike,” a girl’s
voice said. Delaney turned her head as she overhead the voice of a
blonde student. Two girls stood fifteen feet away from her, both
wearing outdoor gear.

“It sounds like he was the last one to see
him,” she added. Delaney perked her head to the right. She couldn’t
hear the response of the girl with her back turned to her so she
sidestepped to get closer to the girls, inching along the wall.

“I don’t know. I’m sure he was just out,
like usual. Mike saw him Friday and Saturday night. I don’t know
why Thursday night matters, although it seems like no one saw him
Thursday night. At all.” The blonde girl emphasized the last words.
Delaney shuddered, closing her eyes.
I was with him Thursday
night. Make it Friday morning.

“There are his poor mom and sister,” the
blonde girl added, pointing to a small woman sitting in a chair
across from a police officer. Delaney’s eyes followed the girl’s
hand as she felt her body crave to collapse beneath her.

The woman in her fifties had her arm around
a young girl who was sobbing into her hands. Delaney guessed the
girl was around ten or eleven. Her thin legs dangled in the chair,
striped puff boots like Rainbow Brite swaying in the air. The woman
dressed in an old coat and brown rubber boots nodded her head as
the police officer leaned in to her. Her hair, frayed a damaged
blonde at its ends. The woman wasn’t crying, but the devastation
was evident. First her husband, now her son. Delaney’s head pounded
as she watched the mother keep her composure for her daughter.

Delaney hadn’t known anything about Theron
when she slept with him, but now she knew he had a family and a
younger sister Delaney was sure that idolized him. A single mother
that worked to the bone to support her two children. Their world
had been shattered with his disappearance.
What have I
done?

“Delaney?” She reeled around at the woman’s
voice behind her. June and Robert, clad in full winter gear, were
walking toward her.

“June. Robert.” Her voice squeaked out their
names.

“Where have you been? Why haven’t you called
me? You’ve got to call with this going on around here,” June
prompted as she examined Delaney. June’s blond hair was tucked
underneath a thick wool hat with strings. Nearing her fifties, June
dressed like a tree-hugging, hippy artist in hand-made clothing.
Usually, it was hemp dresses, but not today. She was in snow pants
and a thick winter jacket.

“Agreed, Delaney,” Robert added as he put
his arm around her. His hat was pulled high on his head exposing
his thick black hair, and his gloves stuck out of his jacket
pockets. They were ready to join the search parties.

“I just got in and I came down as soon as I
could,” she lied, Robert’s arm still around her.

“Are you coming out on the search party?
Robert and I are going to do the first round. I just feel like it’s
part of my duty since I had him as a student and all. We’re leaving
in about fifteen minutes,” June said as she adjusted her hat over
her head.

“Not with those shoes,” Robert said,
pointing to Delaney’s high heels shining ugly in the fluorescent
light. His arm dropped from her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” she said as sweat
began to form on her forehead. “I’ve got a friend in town, and
we’re meeting Mark. Maybe I can join later?”

“Yeah, sure,” June said. “I’m sure there are
going to be several rounds unless we find him.”

“Let’s hope you do,” Delaney replied,
looking back at Theron’s roommate who was still handing out flyers.
“I’ve got to run, though.”

“Not in those you won’t,” Robert joked.

“Be careful!” June yelled as Delaney stepped
back toward the entrance of the main area.

“You, too!” Delaney replied over her
shoulder, leaving Robert and June standing together amid the crowd
of students. She resisted her urge to take one last glance of
Theron’s mother and younger sister sitting distraught in the chairs
behind her. The guilt was too much to bear. She weaved her way
through the last of the students, grazing shoulders with them
without bothering to apologize. It was too late for common
courtesy as she felt the room spin beneath her. She needed to get
away.
I need air. Fresh air. And fast.

The colors in the hallway blurred as the
heels of her shoes made contact with the gloss of the linoleum
floor. Swirls of voices and conversations circled in her head as
her eyes fixated on the glass doors ahead. She saw the reflection
of a woman with brown, wavy hair and translucent blue eyes stare
back at her. Her face, so unfamiliar to herself, sullen and pale
reflected in the glass before she felt the cool metal of the door
handle against her hands. She opened the door and stepped out into
the crisp, fresh air as she stumbled down the stairs, stopping at
the bottom to inhale the coolness into her lungs.

She steadied her breathing, soaking in the
briskness of the winter wind. Sanchez. The search party. His
roommate. The dog. It was all too much. She knew it was wrong,
burning his jacket and not contacting police. Then lying.
Obstructing justice. She came from an honest family, a blue-collar
family working hard to make a living. She was well-educated with a
doctorate and the strong beginning of a career at Leighton.

She closed her eyes as she thought of poor
Ann and Michael Jones. What would they say? Her mother, on her
death bed, discovering her only daughter was an accessory to
murder.
Knee-deep in a pile of shit
. Her father’s infamous
phrase echoed through her head.

But it’s not too late.
She turned her
heels back toward the Union, facing the concrete stairs and glass
doors.
Sanchez has to know. I have to give him the lead. I can’t
possibly do this by myself. How the hell am I supposed to help
Theron by myself?
She whipped her head around to the sound of
an engine behind her. Another news van. She placed her hand on the
rail about to take her first step back up into the building when a
muffled tone from her phone filled her pocket. She slipped her hand
in and retrieved the phone. A text from the unknown number.

Do not go back in. Call James. Go to Atlas
Pub. Theron’s life, your life. V

“Shit.” The word escaped under her breath as
the female news reporter and camera guy passed her on the stairs.
She backed away, paranoid, searching for a phone in one of their
hands. The woman only carried a notepad, though, and the man had a
camera slung on his shoulder.

“Your day can’t be any worse than Mr.
Olson’s,” the woman said as she continued up the stairs. Her lips a
vicious red. “Just remember that.”

“She’s right,” the camera man added beneath
his black mustache as he shrugged his shoulders, lifting the camera
in the air. She watched as they disappeared into the heat of the
building before swinging her head around in all directions. Someone
had seen her turn to go back in.
He’s watching me.
Where
are you?

Her eyes scanned the block surrounding her,
squinting at the white snow covering the ground and trees. Maloney
Hall was just another block down. Reporters filed in and out of the
entrance. Empty parked cars filled the street ahead of her. A
handful of students scattered the sidewalks, all walking
inconspicuously to and from the Union. No phones. A few police
uniforms strolled up and down the sidewalk. Her eyes shifted down
at the sound of another beep from her phone.

Don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon.
V.

Delaney’s hand moved from the rail as she
turned and sunk down onto the last step.
I have no choice.
Her fingers slid across the numbers as she dialed James’s phone.
She breathed deep before lifting the phone to her ear, feeling the
immense weight of someone’s eyes watching her every move.
Probably listening to my words.
Her skin crawled as she
formulated her words.

“Hey, James. Did you make it to Mark’s
okay?” She rushed, the sense of exposure flooded through her
body.

“Yeah, we’re just catching up. Are you
done?”

“Can you come pick me up? Same spot.” Her
voice strained as she looked around.

“Are you okay?” James asked with
concern.

“Yeah. Let’s head to Atlas Pub for some
food. I’m starving.” The thought of food nauseated her.

“Sounds great. Mark’s going to join us.”

Mark.
“Great.” The forced optimism
echoed as James fell silent.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” he finally
replied.

“See you soon.” She clicked end before she
heard a response, her hands shaking as she slipped the phone back
into her pocket. She had ten minutes. Her eyes fixed back on
Maloney.
Fedora, are you there?

As she neared the brown, two-story academic
building, she watched as more reporters gathered outside. A tall
man in a long jacket with two men flanking him on either side
walked through the doors.
President Givens.
She watched as
he turned to the shorter man next to him. She squinted as she
walked closer, still too far away to distinguish the man’s
features. Her body stopped as she watched the shorter man tip his
head to place a fedora on it.
His stride. His body. It was
him.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins as she
watched him reach out his black leather glove to shake the hand of
President Givens before turning to the right. She crept forward,
keeping her eyes on the hat moving toward the side of the building,
as she skimmed the crowd in front of the entrance. There were too
many people. It was too far. Her eyes focused back on the hat as
she watched it disappear around the side of the building.

Who are you?

The sidewalk flooded with reporters heading
her way. She froze for a moment, feeling guilt rush toward her. She
envisioned an onslaught of reporters swarming her, shoving
recorders in her face. Accessory to murder, obstructing police.
Did he tell them?

She flipped her heels to head back to the
block she had come from - where James would pick her up any minute.
3:15
.
She pedaled her feet forward with her head down.
Glancing to the right, she watched as two reporters crossed the
street, heading off the others. A cameraman pointed at the Union.
Panic resolved.
As she crossed the street, students poured
out of the Union and down the steps led by Theron’s roommate, now
known as Mike, dressed in hiking gear and armed with flyers. The
search was on. He marched forward, catching fleeting eye contact
with her before hitting the sidewalk. He opened his mouth as if to
shout to her, but a voice behind him caught his attention.
Does
he know?
Delaney forced her head down, moving only her eyes up
to spot Mark’s blue truck was parked, just in front of her. She
swung the door open and hopped in, glancing back at the roommate
leading the search party who was spinning his head around in search
of her.

“Atlas Pub?” She shot Mark and James a quick
smile before leaning down to readjust her shoes. “Damn heels,” she
muttered as she kept her head hidden beneath the console as Mark
drove forward.

24

DAY 4: Sunday, December 21 – 3:17 p.m.

V slipped the phone into the front pocket of
her leather jacket as she watched Delaney climb into the truck,
moving east away from the Union. Moments later, a steel gray sedan
turned the corner from Maloney Hall, moving west in the opposite
direction. Holston hadn’t seen Delaney. He would make a visit to
Delaney’s house, but she wouldn’t be there. V smiled as she
envisioned him strolling up to her empty house, waiting for her
return. But, Delaney wouldn’t return, not tonight. Despite the calm
face he had shown on camera earlier, Holston’s intricate little
empire he had built around himself was crumbling to the ground.
Deteriorating piece by piece.