Blackout (5 page)

Chapter
Four

Something was up there. Something
peach-color, like a bundle of cloth. But I didn’t think that’s what
it was.

Glyn came back, relieved. “The door’s locked.
So now what?”

Cree pointed. Glyn looked up. “Oh. My.
God.”

I was glad I had my phone. I quick-dialed
Rick Falco, my cop boyfriend.

He answered, thank goodness, even though he
was on duty. His first words were the usual. “You okay?”

“No, I’m not. You know Kelsey Fritz? You know
where she lives?”

He knew because last year there had been an
uproar at the place next door. All that remained was a charred,
skeletal trailer, but Rick had been there when it happened.

As briefly as I could, I told him about
Kelsey. “She might be okay, and it might be nothing, but there’s
something on that turret on top of the house. The door’s locked so
we can’t get in and I’m worried about her state of mind.”

Rick didn’t need any further explanation.

“How handy,” Cree said as I put away my
phone. “Your own personal nine-one-one.”

I hadn’t thought of 911. Maybe I should have
tried that, but it would take a lot of explaining. I didn’t need
that for Rick.

I kept my eyes on the bundle of peach-colored
cloth. I’d have felt better if I saw it move. It might be nothing.
I could be making an idiot of myself, but Rick had drilled into me
that it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Cree watched it, too. “I didn’t know you
could get up there.”

I never even thought about that. The turret
was just there, part of the scenery. It had a low iron fence around
the top. That, too, simply completed the picture. Until now.

I heard sirens. That was quick. I looked to
see if it would make the peach thing move. It didn’t.

I walked out to Fremont just as they came
around a bend in the road. Two police cruisers and a fire engine. I
hadn’t mentioned any fire but they might need it for the
ladders.

There were four officers, including Rick and
his partner, Rosie. It was too cute, Rick and Rosie. She was cute,
too, with short dark curly hair, two kids, and no husband. I
couldn’t help wishing she had a husband, but I didn’t want to let
Rick know it bothered me.

Rosie tackled the front steps, looking for a
hidden key. Another officer tried the back. No key. That meant a
ladder. I hoped it was high enough. While they set it up, Rosie
tried to jimmy open the door. It must have had a deadbolt.

Rick gave me an encouraging nod. It was all
he had time for. Glyn was in worse shape than I was. She had guilt
added to her worry. So did I, but she didn’t know it. I’d never had
much use for Kelsey, and even less when she made all that trouble
for Ben. Even after I found out her neurosis was caused by a
childhood trauma, I still didn’t like her.

I had to remember she was only four years old
at the time it happened. It was no wonder she misinterpreted what
she saw. She thought it was a man with no pants on, and a
skeleton.

Part of that was true. It turned out to be
her slimy neighbor in the now burned-out trailer, flashing her. It
was Cree who discovered he had a death’s head tattooed on his butt.
Some people are just sick.

What was taking so long? I couldn’t ask Rick.
He was in a huddle with the fire chief.

Finally, they drove the ladder truck as close
to the house as they could. At the same time, an ambulance arrived.
I really hoped, if that were Kelsey up there, she would need its
services and not those of the medical examiner.

The ladder went up. Cree huddled close to me.
“Glad I don’t have to climb that thing. I wonder how she got up
there.”

“Inside,” I said. “Could be a skinny little
spiral staircase or a ladder and a trap door.”

“But why up there? It’s so public.”

“Maybe she didn’t think anybody’d look up. If
they did, maybe they couldn’t get to her. We couldn’t.”

One of the firemen made sure the ladder was
firmly braced, and started up. Cree covered her eyes.

“Do heights bother you?” I said.

“I don’t much like them,” she admitted.

He climbed fast. I wondered how often he’d
had to use that ladder. He took it as though it was nothing. Might
be part of their training.

He grasped the turret’s railing, swung a leg
over, and then the other leg. He crouched down next to the
peach-colored bundle.

I saw his hand go out and stay there for a
moment. He called down to his buddies, “She’s breathing.
Barely.”

My knees buckled in relief. Until that moment
I hadn’t been sure the peach-colored lump actually was Kelsey.

What else would it be?

Glyn started crying. Cree asked, “Do you
think Ben would want to know?”

“Later,” I said. “I just hope he got it off
the Internet.”

When we’d left, he was still working on it. I
had no idea how he felt about Kelsey these days. He never talked
about her.

They were hoisting up some kind of wire
basket. I’d seen pictures of those in helicopter rescues of injured
people. If she was barely breathing, she must have been
unconscious. They lifted it by ropes. A second fireman climbed the
ladder to help.

He carried a bag of first aid supplies. They
spent a long time getting her stabilized, whatever that consisted
of. It seemed to take forever. Everything took forever.

When Rick came near me, I asked, “Can’t they
pick the lock and take her out through the house? Wouldn’t that be
easier?”

He regarded me with intense green eyes. They
were greener than mine. “We don’t know what the situation is
inside,” he said.

“Are we even sure it’s Kelsey?”

“I personally am not sure of anything. If
someone needs help, does it matter who it is?”

I guessed it wouldn’t, but who else could it
be up there? Not Kelsey’s mother, who I’d met a few times. She
didn’t seem the emotional type. Kelsey’s sister Velda was too
well-adjusted to go up and collapse. Besides, she had her own home
farther down on Fremont.

Rick gave my hand a squeeze and disappeared
into the crowd. By then it really was a crowd, neighbors from far
and near, people driving by, and Velda herself, pushing through the
mob. The police reinforcements tried to keep people back, but
allowed Velda in.

“What
is going on?” she asked. The
police wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. She spotted Cree and me, whom
she knew, and Glyn.

“It’s Kelsey,” I said.

“Up there?” Velda must have thought I was
kidding.

They had Kelsey secured in the wire basket
and were getting ready to lower her. I could see her curly platinum
hair. I couldn’t see her face.

“It’s, uh—” I didn’t know how much Velda
knew. “Did you hear anything about last night?”

“I knew she was going to a party. Did she get
stood up?” Velda still couldn’t connect that with the turret.

“She went solo,” I said. “Was she supposed to
go with somebody?”

“She said she was going alone. I thought that
was very brave.”

“Glynis can tell you more.” I pulled Glyn
over.

“She, um—” Glyn could barely look at Velda. I
poked her, trying to remind her it was not her fault, even though
it sort of was.

“She, um, took a drink,” Glyn said.

That was way too much for Velda. “Kelsey?
Took a drink?”

Glyn explained, “I think she wanted
fortification. She took another. And another. And then Evan
Steffers got hold of her. The football guy.”

“Oh, no.”

Evan’s reputation must have preceded him. Or
else it was an old, old story about football jocks and drunken
girls.

“They went upstairs. And a couple of other
guys.”

“Oh,
no.
My little sister.”

Glyn stared at the driveway’s white pebbles
and nodded sadly. “I’m afraid it’s as bad as you think.”

“Oh, no, no,
no.
” Velda didn’t need to
hear more.

I made my own contribution. “You know how
some of those jocks can be. So full of themselves.”

Glyn added the final blow. “They took
pictures. They posted them. But Maddie’s brother is taking them
off. The Net, I mean. I don’t know if Kelsey knows about that.”

Nobody said it, but we all knew the damage
had been done.

Kelsey was down now, at ground level. Velda
rushed over to her. The paramedics gave her a minute before they
transferred their patient to a gurney and into the ambulance. Velda
tried to talk to her, but Kelsey was, as medical people say,
unresponsive.

One of the firemen was still up there,
placing things in plastic bags. If Kelsey had taken something,
maybe that was it and maybe it had labels, so they’d know what she
took.

Velda gave the paramedics as much medical
information as she could. While they got it onto their laptop, she
came over to Glyn and me. Her face was like granite.

“Who did you say that person was? The
jock?”

“Evan Steffers,” we both said together.

“Don’t worry,” I added. “I’ll be glad to kill
him for you. He tried to kill me once, so I owe him.”

“I want to help,” Velda told me.

“Good. We’ll do it together. But it has to be
slow and painful and first we have to find out where he lives. I
never did know that.”

I looked at Glyn. She looked at me. Months
ago, she’d told me he was living in his parents’ basement and they
didn’t even know it. They thought he was still in New Hampshire.
Glyn never did find out the address of that basement. Anyway, if he
was reinstated at Lakeside we could probably find him there, but
we’d have to wait until the semester began.

Kidding aside, I knew Rick would take care of
him. Posting pictures was not against the law, but rape was. Where
the law left off, I was pretty sure Lakeside would pick it up. If,
for their own stupid reasons, they tried to keep it quiet, I
certainly wouldn’t. Without naming Kelsey, I would make sure the
world knew what a maggot Evan was.

In fact, I would use it as a springboard in
my campaign for a better attitude toward women. It would have to be
a psychological thing, not legislated. You can’t legislate people’s
thinking. And it mustn’t be confrontational. No battles. The idea
should be to get their cooperation and make them actually want to
see women as equals, not be forced into paying it mere lip
service.

Velda rode in the ambulance. I figured she
must have been calling her parents, if she knew where they were.
Probably they would go to the hospital, but in case they came home,
the police were still there, still investigating. I’d given Rick
the background of what happened. Glyn was the only eyewitness among
us and I knew she would rather jump off that turret herself than
face Kelsey’s parents.

Before we left, I asked Rick, “What’s going
to happen now? Are you going to arrest him?”

“As soon as we find him. But then we have to
make a case. We’ll need her cooperation.”

Good luck with that,
I thought, and
said, “Oh curses, I shouldn’t have been so quick to get those
pictures off.”

Rick agreed. “Off the Internet, you mean.
It’d be nice if Ben thought to save them as evidence.”

“Ben’s pretty smart,” I said. “Even if I’m
not.”

Rick knew he was. He called Ben at home.
Usually when he called me, it was on my cell, but he remembered our
home phone. By some miracle, Ben was there.

“On a flash drive?” I heard Rick say. “Very
good. You’re a genius, Ben.”

I cringed.
Don’t tell him that, he already
knows it.

I left them chatting and got into my car.
Glyn sat in back, ready to hide on the floor if Kelsey’s parents
showed up. Cree got in front. “What are they going to do about
Evan?”

“As I see it,” I said, “he’s committed a
felony, but they have to be able to prove it. It’s going to be
tough getting anything from Kelsey. Ben said he saved the pictures
on a flash drive. That could help.”

“Ohmigod,” said Glyn. “The pictures.” She
pounded her forehead.

“Will you stop with the guilt?” I told her.
“Just do whatever you can.” I turned in at Overlook, not even
asking if she wanted to go home.

“No,” she said. “I was thinking, what if it
was me? How can Kelsey stand it?”

“Obviously she didn’t.”

“Ohmigod. She’s never going to want to wake
up.” In a tiny voice, she asked, “Can I go home with you?”

I stopped the car. “I wish you hadn’t said
that. I mean about her not wanting to wake up. Yes, sure you can go
home with me. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t even want to see the Brandons’
house. And I need company.”

“Okay, then, duck. Because I need to see the
Brandons. Do they know what happened? The parents are going to be
in big trouble for serving alcohol to minors.”

“They
didn’t serve it. It was Carl and
Cindy. Mostly Carl, I guess. And he knows what happened. Most
likely Cindy does, too.”

“It doesn’t matter who actually bought it and
served it, the parents are ultimately responsible. I wonder how
Carl managed to buy it.”

“You can always find someone with a fake
ID.”

Glyn seemed to know all about it. I didn’t
ask. I turned in at the Brandons’ driveway but didn’t see any sign
of human beings. Or cars. They might have been at church. I turned
off my engine and waited. It gave me plenty of time to ponder and
put myself in Kelsey’s place.

Cree fidgeted, wanting to get to my house and
see Ben. Glyn moaned and sighed and beat up on herself.

Exasperated, I finally said, “
Okay,
so
you encouraged her to take a drink. You were only trying to help.
How could you know she wouldn’t stop?”

“I should have known. It can happen.”

“Okay, you’re five percent guilty.”

“Fifty percent. And the other fifty because I
should have stopped them when they were going upstairs. I mean—what
else would they be going for? She was too out of it to say no.”