Kissed By Moonlight (26 page)

"
Hazelglen police department. Officer Kelly speaking."

It was a woman's voice. That was comforting, for some reason. I always had found it easier to talk with women than men over the phone.
Especially men with deep voices. There was just something too authoritarian about it.

"Hello?" Kelly said.

"What? Oh. Hi..."

My tongue and my brain couldn't seem to cooperate with one another now that I was actually enacting my plan. It just felt like one of those unreal things that shouldn't be happening. Like I'd done something I shouldn't, but now had to get through anyway.

"How can I help, miss...?" Kelly said, clearly fishing for me to give my name.

"I have information about Jenn
McClaughlin," I said.

"We're always happy receiving tips and information from the public. What's your name?"

"I know who did it," I said, irritation building in me at her insistence that I say who I was, "It was Eric Putnam. He did it with Joseph..."

I didn't know Joseph's last name. Presumably he had
one; it had just never come up. Did it really matter, though? I'm sure the cops could find out who he was with ease.

Officer Kelly's tone changed from humoring to serious, "Miss, you should come down to the station to give a statement. If you'll just tell me where you are, I can send a cruiser over to pick you up..."

I hung up. The phone beeped and then spat a dime and a nickel into the change tray, the coins rattling against each other for a second.

I didn't know whether to feel hopeful or hopeless. What had that tone meant?

At least I could take a little comfort in the knowledge that I'd actually done something, instead of sitting up there in my room waiting for other people to take of my problems.

Again, though, it just felt like one of those too-little-too-late things done for the sake of saying that I tried.

Outside, the blizzard was getting worse. I went over to the front doors to get a better look. I thought I saw the blue flashing light of a snowplow float on by on the road, and perhaps the suggestion of the truck beneath it, but that was all.

Unlocking my cell, I went right to Redeemer's homepage. They had a nice mobile version, so it was hard to navigate. The notice of Jenn's death and the subsequent investigation had been pushed down several slots.

Now, the top one was a weather warning. It said that any remaining evening classes, meetings, and all that were cancelled. Students and staff were advised to stay where they were, ad to not go outside unless absolutely necessary.

It was beginning to feel more and more that all this had just been a huge waste of time and a mistake. If I went outside, I didn't even think I could find my way back to the dorm.

Already, the work the janitor did clearing the walkway was undone. If all his shoveling was filled in that fast, my footsteps would be gone by now, too.

I stood there until my knees started aching from keeping my legs straightened for so long.

It wasn't until I saw the hint of something pull up to the curb that I even realized I'd slipped into a daydream, lulled by the unending fall of the snow outside.

As though solely for my benefit, the snow miraculously let up for a few moments. It was just long enough for me to see the black-nosed Crown Victoria marked with "
Hazelglen Police" on the side.

Chapter 39

They'd traced the call to this building! I couldn't help feeling betrayed as I looked back at the bank of phones.

What really chilled my bones was when I saw the security cameras mounted at the corners of this main lobby.

Not only did they have the location of the phone, all it took would be stepping into the security office and rewinding the video to get a picture of who'd made the call.

I rushed out of the lobby, taking a left turn down a hall that led to the bookstore and the concourse around it. Behind me, the front door opened, the wind wailing through the opening for a few moments before it closed
..

"Wait! Come back!" a cop yelled, his voice chasing me around the corner.

The bookstore, of course, was closed. A guy had pulled up one of the longer seats and was taking a nap on it, his backpack leaning against one leg. He was the only other person I saw. No way I could lose myself in a crowd.

This is stupid, I found myself thinking, you don't know they're here to hurt you. They're probably just coming to make sure you're all right, and to find out what else you know.

The less rational part of me responded as I wrenched open a set of doors and started bounding up the flight of stairs beyond them.

It might be true. But then again, why would they send a cop through in a storm like this? Eric Putnam's dad probably did have them deep in his pocket, and now they were coming to clean up his dirty laundry.

I took two more flights of stairs and went into the fourth floor. Everywhere I looked, a security camera stared back at me. I thought about running into a washroom or alcove and ditching my coat, but any smart cop would see a girl on camera wandering around the building without a winter coat, put two and two together, and come after me.

I was stuck in the student center. There were exits on all sides of the building, of course, but they all led out into that blizzard.

It was a game of cat and mouse. There were two or three more floors I could hide in above me. Maybe there was even a classroom or lecture hall still open I might slip into with the lights off.

Could I keep switching hiding spots all night? And that was all balancing on the hope that the storm let up enough tomorrow that the school wasn't just closed again. I knew I could slip out if the normal volume of students poured in for morning classes and all that.

I turned down a hallway. It was lined with professors' offices, all the doors shut and the lights off. Just up ahead, the hall made a ninety degree turn to the left as it followed the shape of the building.

There, I found a men's washroom unlocked and slipped into it. I flicked the
deadbolt into place as the automatic fluorescent lights flickered to light.

It was a small bathroom, with two sinks, a urinal, and a stall. Not the most
opulent hiding spot, but at least it smelled of pine-scented cleaner and there was no graffiti on the walls.

I went over to one of the sinks and drew some warm water, waiting a few seconds for it to heat up. I splashed my face, trying to clear my senses. Then I leaned forward on the counter, exam
ining my face in the mirror.

Most of my color seemed to be gone. I looked pale, like the snow outside, bloodless. My hair was darkened and lank from the snow that had melted in it before. Little red veins crawled around the whites of my eyes, seeming to stretch out for the iris. Just looking at them made me tear up and sting.

"Good going," I said.

When I could no longer face myself, I pulled some paper towels from the dispenser and dried myself. The lid on the white-painted metal garbage bin squealed as it rocked back and forth, sent swinging by my hand.

I grabbed it, stopping the noise. No need to draw the cop to my hiding place. I was hoping that by choosing the men's room the search might take a little longer.

People seemed to instinctually avoid going into the opposite gender's bathroom. If I was lucky, the cop would think I was just some dumb, panicked girl and wouldn't even think to check for me in here for a while longer yet.

Then my cell rang.

In the enclosed space the washroom, the noise was shrill and loud. A surge of panicked energy rushed through my arms and hands as I struggled to pull the damn thing out of my pocket. All I could think about was shutting it off before someone heard.

It buzzed in my hands as I freed it. I was about to hit the button to shunt it right to voicemail when my eyes managed to relay to my brain what the screen said.

"Vick Lawson," the call display read.

"Vick..." I said, my hands shaking even more as relief flooded in to mix with the former panic, creating an awful, manic feeling inside me as I thumbed the answer button.

"Vick!"
I said.

"What is it, Stephanie? I got your message..." Vick said, whispering.

"Vick, we were so wrong about Adam."

"What do you mean? Adam's a werewolf, Stephanie..."

I wanted to shake the phone like it was his body. Why couldn't he just shut up for a second and listen. Hadn't he heard what I'd said in those voicemails I'd left him?

"Just be quiet for a sec, okay?"

I paused then, as well, remembering where I was and the predicament I was in. I whispered, too. I didn't really spend more than a split second pondering why Vick was also whispering.

"Adam's a werewolf, yeah.
But, Vick, listen to me... Adam never killed anyone!"

"What?" he said. I could practically hear him clenching his teeth, could practically see the muscles of his jaw working.

"Vick... Adam didn't kill Jenn."

"How do you..."

"It was Eric! Eric and Joseph. I followed them from class and Eric threatened Joseph for almost giving the whole thing up in class. Eric admitted to killing her. And Vick... before he did... he... he..."

My throat started locking up. An awful surge of images moved through my mind.
Eric and Joseph, holding me down. Eric, gleeful as Joseph tried to work my clothes off. Then I found myself replaced by Jenn. Only this time, Adam didn't jump in to stop them.

"Okay, just calm down. You don't need to say it. I understand what you mean," Vick said.

In spite of his whispering, his voice and his reassurances were comforting.

"Thanks," I said.

Before I could calm down any further, I suddenly remembered why I’d been wanting to get a hold of him so badly in the first place. I pressed the phone harder against my face. It started getting hot, but I couldn't risk him not understanding me.

"You can't kill him, Vick. Adam hasn't done anything wrong. You can't go through with the ceremony!"

"Stephanie..."

"Please don't do it! So what if he turns into a big, freaky wolf sometimes. He's never hurt anyone. And I'll make sure he never does..."

"Stephanie... listen..."

"No! You listen. Monsters are monsters because of what they do, not what they are. You have to understand that."

My heart tried to beat itself up my throat as I clawed for more reasons for him to stop that whole ceremony. Damn it! Why couldn't I have been a philosophy major?

"Stephanie!" Vick said, doing one of those whisper-yells.

"What? Why are you whispering, too?" I said.

"The ceremony hasn't happened yet. There's a lot of tradition and preparation that goes into it. Adam's still alive..."

Even though he kept talking after that, I didn't really hear any of it. Adam was still alive! There was still a chance, then. A chance to see him get the second chance he needed, and maybe still get Jenn the justice she deserved. If Vick had been sitting beside me, leaning against that bathroom wall, I would have kissed him.

It took me a second to realize Vick had stopped talking. I put the phone back to my ear. It really was getting hot.

I tried to remember what he said. It wasn't coming. However, something told me that it wasn't good news.

"What... What's wrong?"

He sighed. Was he exasperated with me, or was some heavy weight pressing down on him, grinding all the energy out of his youthful body?

"I could get into real trouble if my family finds out I'm telling you any of this. I'm telling you because I know you like him. But, Stephanie, he is a monster. If he hasn't hurt anyone yet, it doesn't mean he won't in the future."

"Stop it!" I said, holding the phone out in front of my face, "Stop it! Is that what they're telling you? You don't need to do this. If you do, you're not a monster hunter; you're a murderer. Just like Eric."

He started to say something, but another noise distracted me. I covered the speaker on my phone with one finger as I slid over to the door of the washroom.
My breath held, I listened.

Yes, that was the squeak of a boot on the polished floor down the hall. Someone
had come up to the fourth floor. Were they looking for me?

Being as quiet as I could, I reached up for the
light switch. My hand floundered against the wall when my fingers didn't feel the switch in the expected place. I looked up, squinting at the brightness of the long fluorescent bulbs.

They were automatic lights. I remembered them flickering on when I opened the door. They probably functioned based on some motion sensor I couldn't see. So long as someone moved around in the washroom, they'd stay on.

I leaned against the wall beside the door, my winter coat rustling as I pulled my knees up to my chest. I put the phone to my ear, trying to be as still as possible.

Those boots squeaked again. They were coming towards me, probably about to round that corner.