A Faint Cold Fear (22 page)

The room was pretty much like all the others: longer than it was wide, with a bed, a desk, and a closet on each side. There were two large windows opposite the door, their panes fogged with grime. Stacks of books and papers lined the floor, take-out cartons and empty beer cans resting on top of them. There was a strip of blue tape down the center of the room, probably to divide the space. She wondered how Scooter's roommate felt about the smell.

A small refrigerator served as a bedside table near the bed Scooter now occupied. His roommate had gone with a more traditional small slab of plywood on two stacks of concrete blocks. He had probably stolen the blocks from the construction site over near the cafeteria. Kevin Blake had just sent out a memo two weeks ago asking Chuck to track down the missing blocks because the construction company was going to charge to replace them.

'It's okay,' Ethan said, waving her into the room.

'He's totally gorked.'

'I can see that,' Lena said, but she didn't move from the open doorway. Scooter was bigger than Ethan in every way: taller, stronger. She hooked her thumb in her back pocket, feeling the knife.

Ethan sat by Scooter on the bed, saying, 'He won't talk to you if you leave the door open.'

Lena debated the risks and decided she would be okay. She walked in and shut the door without turning away from them. 'He doesn't look like he can talk period,' she said. She started to sit on the bed opposite Scooter but stopped herself as she remembered the kinds of things that were going on in the other rooms.

'I don't blame you, man,' Scooter said, laughing in short barks, like a seal.

She looked around the room, thinking there was enough drug paraphernalia in here to stock a pharmacy.

Two syringes lay on a small stool by the bed. A spoon with residue sat beside them, and a small bag of what looked like large pieces of salt. They had interrupted Scooter in the process of preparing Ice, the most potent form of methamphetamine. The junk was so pure that he did not even need to filter it.

'What a fucking idiot,' Lena said. Even her uncle Hank, a speed freak of the highest order, had never screwed around with Ice. It was too dangerous.

She told Ethan, 'I don't see the point to this.'

'He was Andy's best friend,' Ethan said.

On hearing Andy's name, Scooter burst into tears.

He cried like a girl, open and unashamed. Lena was torn between being disgusted and being fascinated by his reaction. Oddly enough, Ethan seemed to share her feelings.

'Come on, Scoot, straighten up,' he said, pushing the other boy off him. 'Jesus Christ, what are you, a faggot?'

He glanced at Lena, probably remembering at the last minute that Lena's sister had been gay. Lena looked at her watch. She had wasted her entire night trying to talk to this stupid kid, and she was not going to give up now. She kicked the bed so hard that both boys jumped.

'Scooter,' Lena said. 'Listen up.'

He nodded.

'You were friends with Andy?'

He nodded again.

'Was Andy depressed?'

He nodded again. Lena sighed, knowing she shouldn't have kicked the bed. He felt threatened now and would not talk.

She nodded toward the refrigerator. 'Do you keep anything in there to drink?'

'Oh, yeah, man.' Scooter jumped up, as if to say, Where are my manners. He swayed before he got his balance and opened the small refrigerator. Lena saw several bottles of beer and what looked like a plastic liter bottle of off-brand vodka. Between that and the drugs, she wondered how Scooter kept from getting kicked out of college.

Scooter began, 'I got some beer and some-'

'Here,' Lena said, pushing him out of the way.

Maybe if she had one more drink, she'd feel more in control of herself.

'Glasses?' she asked.

Scooter reached under the bed and pulled out two plastic cups that had seen better days. Lena uprighted them on top of the fridge and took the orange juice Ethan offered. The bottle was small. There would not be much to drink for all three of them.

'None for me,' Ethan said, studying her like she was one of his textbooks.

Lena did not look at him as she mixed the drink, pouring half the orange juice into one of the cups, then spilling in a little vodka. She kept the bottle of juice for herself, filling it to the top with the clear alcohol. She put her thumb over the opening and shook the bottle to mix everything, still feeling Ethan's eyes on her.

She sat on the opposite bed before she remembered she did not want to and stared at Scooter as he sipped his drink.

'This is good, man,' he said. 'Thanks.'

Lena held the juice bottle in her lap, not taking a drink. She wanted to see how long she could last.

Maybe she would not drink it after all. Maybe she would just hold it in her hand so that Scooter felt comfortable talking to her. She knew that the first thing you should do in an interview is establish a rapport. With addicts like Scooter, the easiest way to that end was to make him think she had a problem herself.

'Andy,' Lena finally said, conscious of how dry her mouth felt.

'Yeah.' Scooter nodded slowly. 'He was a good kid.'

Lena remembered what Richard Carter had said. 'I heard he could be a jerk.'

'Yeah, well, whoever told you that is an asshole,'

Scooter shot back.

He was right, but Lena kept this information to herself. 'Tell me about him. Tell me about Andy.'

Scooter leaned against the wall and flipped his long hair back out of his eyes. He had a startling array of pimples across his cheeks. Lena could have told him that cutting his hair, or at the very least keeping it clean, would have gone a long way toward clearing that up, but she had other things to talk about right now.

She asked, 'Was he seeing anybody?'

'Who, Andy?' Scooter shook his head. 'Not for a long time.' He held out his cup, expecting a top-off.

Lena stared at him, not wanting to share.

She said, 'Talk to me first, and then we'll get you some more.'

'I need a hit, man,' he said, reaching toward the needles on the fridge.

'Back off a second,' Ethan told him, pushing him away. 'You said you'd talk to her and you're gonna, remember? You said you'd tell her what she wanted to know.'

'I did?' Scooter asked, looking confused. He glanced at Lena, and she nodded her confirmation.

'Yeah, buddy,' Ethan said. 'You did. You promised because you want to help Andy.'

'Yeah, okay,' Scooter agreed, nodding his head. His hair was so filthy it didn't move.

Ethan gave Lena a sharp look. 'See what this shit does to your brain?'

Lena ignored him, asking Scooter, 'Was Andy seeing anyone?'

Scooter giggled. 'Yeah, but she wasn't seeing him.'

'Who?' Lena asked.

'Ellen, man. Ellen from his art class.'

'Schaffer?' Ethan clarified, and the name didn't seem to sit well with him.

'Yeah, man, she's so fucking hot. You know what I mean?' Scooter elbowed Ethan suggestively. 'So damn fine.'

Lena tried to get him back on track. 'She was seeing him?'

'She wouldn't see anybody like him,' Scooter said.

'She's a goddess. Mere mortals like Andy could only deign to sniff her panties.'

'She's a walking box of come,' Ethan said with obvious disgust. 'She probably didn't even know he was alive.'

Scooter giggled again, giving Ethan his elbow.

'Maybe he's up there doing panty raids in heaven!'

Ethan scowled, pushing Scooter away.

'What?' Lena demanded, confused.

'Damn, I heard her face looked like she swallowed a fucking cherry bomb,' Scooter said.

'Whose face?' Lena asked.

'Ellen!' Scooter answered, as if it were obvious. 'She blew off her head, man. Where the fuck you been?'

Shock hit Lena like a brick. She had been in her dorm all day, watching the Caller ID. Nan had called a few times, but Lena had not picked up. Ellen Schaffer's death added a whole new level to the investigation.

If it was staged like Andy's, then Jeffrey would be looking doubly hard at Lena.

Without thinking, Lena took a small drink from the bottle. She held the liquid in her mouth, savoring the taste before swallowing. The vodka burned as it went down, and she could feel it all the way to her stomach.

She exhaled slowly, feeling calmer, sharper.

She asked, 'What about the drug program his parents sent him to?'

Scooter glanced at the syringes again, licking his lips. 'He did what he had to do to get out, you know?

Andy liked the pipe. No getting around that. You fall in love once, you keep coming back, like a lover.'

Apparently Scooter enjoyed saying the word 'lover,' because he repeated it several times, his tongue rolling around his mouth with every repetition.

Lena tried to put him on the subject again. 'So he came back and he was clean?'

Scooter nodded. 'Yeah.'

'How long did that last?'

'Up until Sunday, I guess,' Scooter said, and laughed as if he'd made a good joke.

'When Sunday?'

'Before he died,' Scooter told her. 'Everybody knows the cops found a needle up there.'

'Right,' Lena said, thinking that Frank would have mentioned this if it were true. Rumors spread around campus as quickly as sexually transmitted diseases these days.

She said, 'I thought you said he liked to smoke?'

'Yeah, yeah,' he said. 'That's what they found.'

Lena shot Ethan a look. She asked Scooter, 'Did you see Andy using prior to yesterday?'

Scooter shook his head. 'No, but I know he was.'

'How can you be sure?'

'Because he wanted to buy from me, man.'

Beside him, Ethan noticeably stiffened.

Scooter said, 'He bought a shitload Saturday night and said he was gonna take it all on Sunday. Gonna go on a magic carpet ride. Hey, you think that's what that song means?'

Lena tried again to get him back on topic. 'You think he wanted to kill himself?'

Ethan stood and walked over to the window.

'Yeah, whatever,' Scooter said. Again he glanced at the needles. 'He, like, came to my room and he said, "Hey, man, are you holding?" and I said, "Fuck yeah, getting ready for Burke being gone next week," and he was all like, "Gimme what you got. I got money," and I was like, "Fuck you, no way, man, this is my shit, and you still owe me from before you went in, you fucking faggot," and he was like-'

Lena stopped him. 'He was having money trouble?'

'Yeah, like, always. His mom made him pay rent and shit. How bogus is that, man? Her own son, and she made him pay for his clothes and shit like he was on some kind of fucking welfare.' He adjusted himself in his shorts. 'That car was boss, though.'

He turned to Ethan. 'Did you see that car his dad bought him?'

Lena tried to get Scooter to focus. 'But he had money Saturday night? Andy had some money?'

'Hell, I dunno. I guess so. He scored.'

'I thought you sold it to him.'

'Hell no, man. I told you, I knew what he wanted to do. I'm not getting caught up in that shit. You sell some dope and some kid ODs, and next thing you know your ass is in jail for freaking manslaughter, and I ain't going to no jail, man. I've already got a job lined up for when I get out of here.'

'Where?' Lena asked, wondering who on earth would hire such a pathetic waste.

Ethan didn't let him answer. 'You knew he was gonna try to kill himself?'

'I guess.' Scooter shrugged. 'That's what he did last time. Bought a bag of shit and slit himself wide open with a razor blade.' He drew a line up his forearm to illustrate. 'Man, that was bogus. Blood everywhere, like you wouldn't believe. Do you think I shoulda said something, man? I didn't want to get him in trouble or nothing.'

'Yeah, fuckwad,' Ethan said, walking over to the bed. He slapped Scooter on the back of the head.

'Yeah, you should've said something to him. You fucking killed him, is what you did.'

Lena said, 'Ethan-'

'Let's get out of here,' Ethan said, walking toward the door. She could tell he was angry but could not understand why. He told her, 'I'm sorry I wasted your time.'

Scooter said, 'Don't worry about it.'

'Come on,' Ethan said, throwing open the door so hard the knob knocked a dent in the wall behind it.

Lena followed him, but she closed the door, staying in the room.

'Lena!' The door rattled as Ethan knocked, but she locked it, hoping that would keep him out for a few minutes.

'Scooter,' she said, making sure she had his attention, 'who sold him the drugs?'

Scooter stared at her. 'What?'

'Who sold Andy the drugs?' she repeated. 'Saturday night, where did he finally get the drugs?'

'Shit,' Scooter said, 'I don't know.' He scratched his arms, obviously uncomfortable with Ethan gone.

'Leave me alone, okay?'

'No,' Lena said. 'Not until you tell me.'

'I got rights.'

'Yeah? You wanna call the cops?' She kept the bottle in one hand and scooped the loaded syringes in the other. 'Let's call the cops, Scooter.'

'Aw, hell, man, come on.' He made a feeble attempt to reach for the needles, but Lena was faster.

'Who sold Andy the drugs?' she asked.

'Come on,' Scooter whined. When he saw that this would not work, he capitulated. 'You oughta know, man. You work with 'im.'

Lena dropped the syringes and nearly let go of the bottle before she caught herself. 'Chuck?'

Scooter fell to the ground, picking up the needles like they were found money.

'Chuck?' Lena repeated. She was too stunned to do much of anything else. She took a sip of vodka, then knocked back the whole thing. She felt so disoriented she had to sit on the bed again.

'Lena?' Ethan yelled, banging on the door.

Scooter started shooting up. Lena watched, mesmerized as he pulled back the needle to draw out some of his blood, then shot the drug into his vein. The end of the tourniquet was between his teeth, and he let it go with a snap as he pressed the plunger home.

He gasped like he'd been hit, his whole body lurching. He kept his mouth open, his body twitching as the drug took over. His eyes darted around wildly, his teeth chattering in his head. His hand shook so much that the empty syringe fell to the floor and rolled under the bed. Lena watched, unable to look away, as his body jerked from the Ice in his veins.