Megan
As I walked back to the dorm with Paige and Alexa, an attractive Asian boy approached from the opposite direction. His hair swept up and over in dark spikes made shiny with hair gloss. He wore jeans and a casual tee, one hand clutching the strap of the backpack slung over his shoulder, the thumb of the other hooked around a belt loop. He lifted a chin in acknowledgment to Paige, and she raised a hand in return.
“Who’s that?” I asked under my breath. “He’s hot.”
Behind Paige, Alexa cringed and shook her head, making a cutting motion with a bladed hand and silently mouthing the word “no.” Oops. Looked like the guy was an off-limits subject. Of course Alexa’s warning had come too late.
“Chaoxiang?” Paige said, frowning. “Yeah, I guess he’s hot. But don’t waste your time. I think he’s got a girlfriend.”
Before I could ask how she knew the guy, whether he lived in our dorm, my phone jiggled in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the readout. Aunt Jackie. My pulse picked up.
Had Detective Bustamente identified the dealer picking up my payment at the taco stand?
Would Brigit and I be able to move back home?
“I gotta take this,” I said to Alexa and Paige. “See you later.”
As they continued on, I pushed the button to accept the call. “Hi, Aunt Jackie.” I stepped away from the flow of foot traffic on the sidewalk so no one could overhear my conversation. But just in case, I figured it couldn’t hurt to speak in code. “Did you or Uncle Buster take out the trash?”
“What the hell are you talking about, Officer Luz?”
So much for code, huh? “Did you figure out who picked up the cash I left under the trash can?”
“No,” she said. “Hector said there were so many people in and out of that bathroom they might as well put a revolving door on it.”
Rats.
“He had a dash cam running on his car,” she added. “He parked on the street where he could pick up all the license plates of cars going in and out of Tio’s lot. I’m going to review the footage and see if I can trace any plates to convicted or suspected dealers.”
“I hope something turns up.”
“Me, too,” she said. “In the meantime, we’ve pinged the phone.”
My heart rate rocketed. “Where is it?”
“On the TCU campus. We’ve been able to narrow its location down to the main library. That’s as precise as we could get.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“Head on over there ASAP and see what you can find out,” Jackson directed. “Let me know who you see there.”
“I’m on it.” I thumbed the button to end the call, turned toward the library, and set off in a hurry, Brigit trotting along with me. This case could be over soon. Maybe even tonight. God, I’d love to be back in my own bed, to have my bedroom all to myself rather than sharing the space with an emotional time bomb like Emily.
As I approached the building, my excitement began to fade. Not only did the library have a large footprint, it was three stories high. When Detective Jackson had said they’d narrowed things down, I’d expected things to be easy. This search would likely be anything but.
When I went inside and glanced around, my hope faded further. Dozens of people moved about inside the space, and a steady stream of students made their way in and out of the building. If the library was this bustling in summertime, I could only imagine what it was like in the winter when the student population was much higher. Finding the person with the cell phone I’d called wouldn’t be as hard as finding a needle in a haystack, but it wouldn’t be a cinch, either.
I decided my best course of action would be to survey the place, see if anyone looked suspicious. I made my way past the main information desk and around the first floor, walking slowly past the line of group study rooms. The outer wall of the rooms was glass, allowing passersby to see inside.
Some of the rooms contained small groups of students ardently bent over their books and notes, while others contained larger groups of students kicking back in the chairs, their feet up on the table as they chatted and laughed. Those latter groups had clearly met up here to socialize rather than study.
As I glanced into the last room, a flash of red hair caught my eye and my feet stopped moving of their own accord.
Ruby Rathswohl.
She sat at the table, a hand in her hair as she stared down at a textbook, a pen poised in her other hand to take notes in the open spiral in front of her. In the room with her, sitting on the opposite side of the table, was a tall boy with brown hair, quite possibly the boy I’d seen her with at Panther Pavilion. Also in the room were another boy and girl who didn’t look familiar to me.
When the boy I didn’t recognize looked up and caught my eye, I realized that I had not only been standing there too long, but that I was gaping. Some undercover agent I am, huh? I forced a smile and a wave and continued on, turning to make my way back into the stacks.
I stopped between the shelves to process this information. Ruby Rathswohl, the girl I was more and more certain had been with Miranda Hernandez when she’d collapsed on the Fourth, was here in the library. The boy sitting across from Ruby looked very similar to the boy who’d also been with Miranda on the night she collapsed. The person who was selling Molly, whose number I’d obtained from the bathroom stall, was also here in the library.
Coincidence?
Or clue?
I decided I’d push my luck and find out. I waited a few minutes, found a vantage point between the shelves from where I could peek through a two-inch break between books and see into the study room, and pulled out my cell phone to dial the dealer’s number.
I watched Ruby carefully as the phone rang, but she made no move to go for a phone, continuing to look at her textbook and chew on the end of her pen. The tall boy made no telltale movements, either.
Hmm …
Just as it did last time, the call went to voice mail after a single ring. I jabbed the button on my phone to end the call.
Had Ruby or the boy ignored the call?
Had their phones been on silent?
There was no way I could know for certain. And until I did, I had to make sure I’d explored all of the possibilities.
I slid my phone back into my pocket and stepped out of the stacks, continuing around the space with my partner, checking things out on the first floor. I carefully eyed the students I passed to see if they were familiar faces from the dorm. While one or two others rang a bell, many did not.
We took the stairs up to the second floor and slowly made our way around, weaving up and down through the stacks, looking over the shoulders of the people sitting at the study carrels. Well, I looked over their shoulders and Brigit instinctively sniffed at their backpacks and legs. One boy had somehow smuggled a plate of soggy nachos past the front desk, but violating the no-food policy hardly made him a criminal.
As Brigit and I headed up from the second floor to the third, a voice from above called, “Hey, Morgan.”
I looked up to see Hunter coming down the stairs, taking them two at a time, his backpack slung over one shoulder. With his boyish good looks and loose-limbed style, I half expected him to break out in some boy band song and do a sliding side-step dance move.
I stopped on the landing. “Hi, Hunter.”
“Got some studying to do?” he asked, hopping to the landing with both feet together.
“Unfortunately.”
He leaned to the side and checked out my empty back. “Where are your books and stuff?”
Yeah, Morgan. Where? “I’m doing research,” I said. “I need to take a look at some primary sources.” Primary sources? I’d pulled that out of my metaphorical back end, hadn’t I?
“Oh,” he said. “What are you researching?”
Fortunately, there was no need to reach again into my back end. Essie Espinoza’s speech provided me with fresh fodder for an answer. “Campaign financing.”
“That seems to be a hot topic.”
“I guess that’s why the professor is making us write about it.” Go, Megan, go!
He gazed at me a moment before asking, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”
Was he planning to ask me out? If he was, how could I let him down easy? Or should I go out with him and pick his brain on our dormmates? I wasn’t sure how to handle things, so I opted for telling the truth. “Paige and Alexa and I are planning on going to Club Bassline Friday night.”
“Club Bassline.” He gave me a soft smile. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“That would be great.” I can teach you what it’s like being a grown-up.
“Later.” He continued down the stairs, virtually skipping now.
I ascended the next flight, guilt tugging at my heart. I was leading the poor kid on, wasn’t I? But what choice did I have? I had to play my part to the best of my ability, and flirting with boys was part of the role.
As I ventured onto the third floor, something dawned on me. What if Hunter is the dealer? God, I hoped not. He seemed like a nice guy. It would stink if he turned out to be involved in drugs.
Forcing the thought aside, I circumnavigated the third floor. There were far fewer students on this level, only a handful scattered about. Most looked older, like seniors or maybe graduate students.
Taking a seat at an empty study carrel, I texted Detective Jackson. Ruby Rathswohl is on first floor but didn’t respond when I called phone again. Not seeing anyone else suspicious. Is phone still in library?
I’ll check, the detective replied.
I glanced around as I waited. A boy had his head down in a study carrel nearby, snoring softly as he took a nap. A girl at a table nearby bobbed her head to music coming through her earbuds as she highlighted a passage in a textbook.
Jackson’s reply came back. Still there.
There was nothing I could do but make another round, right? Of course I had to do it without raising suspicions.
As quietly as possible, I led Brigit around the floor again. Nobody caught my eye. We descended to the second floor and looped through the stacks, checking everyone out. As we circled the last shelf, a honey-colored ponytail on a girl in the back corner caught my eye. Is that Emily?
My focus moved down to her backpack: the black-and-white-checkered print and the mismatched thread where a hole had been patched told me that, yes, the girl in the corner was indeed my roommate. Her cell phone peeked out of the back pocket of her shorts.
I shrank back before she could see me. Had she been in the library when I’d made my first run-through? It was possible I’d missed her. She could have been in the restroom, or moving about on another floor.
I sat down on the floor as if looking at the books on the bottom shelf and peeked over the tops of the row while dialing the dealer’s number on my phone. When the phone rang, Emily shifted slightly in her seat, but did not take the phone out of her back pocket. I’d heard no sound of her phone ringing, and I was too far away to tell whether her phone had vibrated in her pocket. Maybe her movement had nothing to do with her phone.
I tried the number again, but she remained still this time. Hmm …
Frustrated by the lack of definitive evidence so far, I ventured back down to the first floor and slunk through the stacks until I reached the spot from where I’d spied on Ruby and the brown-haired boy earlier. While the other boy and girl were still in the study room, Ruby and the boy who’d been sitting across from her were gone. There were no telltale backpacks in the seats they’d vacated, and nothing on the table to indicate they planned to return.
I rounded the entire first floor to see if they’d simply relocated, but saw no sign of the two. I texted Detective Jackson again. Ruby and boy are gone now. Has phone moved? If so, it would point to one of them as being the dealer.
It was several minutes before Jackson replied. Phone still in library.
Blurgh! I wanted to toss up my hands in frustration. Who here in this library right now has that damn phone?!?
I decided to try a different tack and wait outside the library. I led Brigit outside and took a seat on a bench nearby. I phoned Jackson to let her know my plan. “I’m sitting outside the library now. I was afraid I’d look suspicious if I kept walking around. Can you let me know when the phone moves outside the library?”
“Sure.”
I sat there for what felt like forever, the sun setting and the night growing dark, and still there was no contact from Jackson. I got up and walked Brigit around a grassy area within view of the library doors. I sat down in the dark under a tree with her and listened to the rhythmic chant of the crickets. Chirp-chirp-chirp. Still there was no contact from Detective Jackson.
While the library schedule posted on the window indicated it was open twenty-four hours during the fall and spring semester, it closed at nine in the summer, reopening in the early morning. At nine, the lights dimmed, first on the third floor, then on the second, then on the first. The last remaining diehards filtered out into the night, none of them spotting me and Brigit watching from across the way. Other than Emily, none of them looked familiar. Still there was no contact from Jackson telling me the phone had moved. I wasn’t sure whether to try to follow any of these students or not. If so, which one? I had no idea. A couple of people I recognized as the front desk staff came out, locking the door behind them.
I texted Jackson. Library just closed. Everyone seems to have left the building.
She texted back. KingFish says phone is still in library.
How could that be? Was the dealer a night janitor? Or had Ruby or Emily or whoever the dealer was left the phone behind by accident?
I sent her another message. What should I do?
Get some sleep, she replied. We’ll figure this out tomorrow.
I roused Brigit and we headed back toward the dorm. Emily was still awake and working on chemical equations when we entered the room. Though I greeted her with a “Working hard, I see,” she either ignored my comment or didn’t hear me with her earbuds in. Regardless, she failed to greet me, apparently in one of her bad moods again.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and put on my pajamas. Climbing into bed, I rounded up my laptop from the desk, sat facing Emily’s back so that she couldn’t see my computer screen, and opened a new document. Over the next few minutes, I pulled my scattered thoughts together and set about making an inventory of my list of potential suspects and the evidence both against them and in their favor.
Suspect #1: My roommate Emily.
Evidence against her: mood swings and appearance indicate possible drug use. She directed me into women’s bathroom in lobby of dorm where I found Fun Time Molly’s phone number. The vitamin C bottle found in air vent could belong to her. Fingerprint confirmation is pending. She was in the library when the dealer’s cell phone was pinged there. She could use some extra money.
Evidence in her favor: 4.0 GPA. Would this make her too smart to get involved in drug dealing?
Suspect #2: Ruby Rathswohl.
Evidence against her: She was likely the girl with Miranda Hernandez at Panther Pavilion. Brigit alerted to drugs in her room. Though no drugs were found in a later search by campus police, she could have moved or sold them in the interim, or taken them out to the trash. Like Emily, she was in the library when the dealer’s cell phone was pinged there.
Evidence in her favor: None.
Suspect #3: Ashleigh White.
Evidence against her: She sold pills to her visiting friend and Colby Tibbs, though they have both stated they believe the sales to be isolated cases rather than a regular business for Ashleigh. She has refused to cooperate with police unless given immunity deal.
Evidence in her favor: She was not in the library when the dealer’s phone was pinged there.
Suspect #4: Miranda Hernandez.
Evidence against her: She used Molly on the Fourth of July. She could have sold Molly to Ashleigh White before the Fourth.
Evidence in her favor: She was not in the library when the dealer’s phone was pinged. By all accounts she is not worldly enough to know how to run a drug operation.
Suspect #5: Hunter.
Evidence against him: He’d told me that drugs were easy to get, that all someone had to do was start asking around and a source would appear. He wasn’t forthcoming about whether he used drugs himself. He was in the library when the dealer’s phone was pinged there.
Evidence in his favor: Brigit did not alert on his dorm room. He’s too cute to be guilty.
Okay, yeah. I realized cuteness had nothing to do with whether or not the guy might be a drug dealer. But I simply couldn’t see it. I hoped my judgment wasn’t being clouded by the fact that he had a crush on me, which was flattering.
Suspect #6: Logan.
Evidence against him: Has a rumored lack of moral integrity, along with crotch critters.
Evidence in his favor: He’s said nothing to indicate he does or sells drugs. Brigit did not alert on his dorm room. He was not in the library when the dealer’s phone was pinged there.
Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I even put Logan on the list. While he was guilty of being a general sleazebag, there was nothing else that pointed to him being a drug dealer. Still, something about him got my senses tingling, and not in a good way.
Suspect #7: Graham Hahn
Evidence against him: I found drugs on him at Panther Pavilion the day Miranda Hernandez collapsed.
Evidence in his favor: He has no apparent acquaintance with any of the victims.
I realized that the evidence in Hahn’s favor, which Detective Jackson had initially thought to be important, seemed less relevant now. While he might not have much direct interaction with lowerclassmen, now that we knew the dealer was using cryptic bathroom messages, a secret cell phone, and e-mail and post office boxes to run the operation, the lack of direct contact no longer seemed to exonerate him.
Part of me wondered whether I should add Paige McQuaid to the list. She seemed worldly, and had shown some knowledge about Molly when she’d talked about the importance of users staying hydrated. Of course she’d also stated that she didn’t use Molly and that she only knew what she knew because she’d “heard stuff.” But Brigit hadn’t alerted on Paige and Alexa’s room, and neither had been in the library when the cell phone was pinged there, so I felt comfortable leaving her off the list. After all, what college kid hadn’t heard something about drugs?
My homework completed, I saved the document for later reference, turned off my computer and desk lamp, and turned over to go to sleep, leaving my roommate to burn the midnight oil.