Page 12 of Silent Trail

CHAPTER SIX

The harsh fluorescent lights above cast a somber glow on the gathered crowd of students, their wide eyes and downturned mouths reflecting shock and grief. Reagan stood among them, taking in the crime scene at Coldwater Community College with a detached interest that belied a racing heart.

Pathetic, Reagan thought. Don't they all know what kind of person she was?

"Such a tragedy," whispered a girl beside Reagan, dabbing at her tear-streaked cheeks with a crumpled tissue. "Kristen Lee...she was so talented."

The name hung heavy in the air, a weighty reminder of the basketball player whose life had been snuffed out so suddenly. Her body had been discovered in her locker earlier that day, a gruesome sight that had sent ripples of horror throughout the campus. The students huddled together, seeking solace in shared pain and whispered condolences.

Reagan, however, wasn't seeking solace. Reagan was here for the same reason one visits a foreign country: to try to imagine what it would be like to be somebody else.

That, and to enjoy the knowledge that justice had been served.

"Excuse me," a gruff voice interrupted Reagan's observations. A police officer approached, his uniform crisp and authoritative. His gaze was firm, unrelenting.

"I'm Officer Daniels," he said. "We're questioning anyone who might have any information about Kristen Lee. Did you know her?"

Reagan felt a chill, like icy fingers tracing a path along the vertebrae. "No, I didn't know her. We never crossed paths."

"Really?" Officer Daniels frowned, his brow furrowing as he studied Reagan's face. "What's your name?"

"Reagan. It's my middle name." Reagan expected the officer to ask for a full name, something Reagan was reluctant to give, but surprisingly the officer didn't ask for more.

"Well, Reagan," he said, "you seem awfully interested in what's going on here."

"Can you blame me?" Reagan replied, forcing a weak smile. "This is terrifying. I guess I'm just trying to understand how something like this could happen."

Why is he staring at me like that? Reagan thought. Does he know who I am? Reagan had to resist the urge to look down, afraid there might be a telltale drop of blood – on a sneaker, or perhaps staining the front of the jeans – to betray the truth of what had really happened.

The chilly air around the crime scene seemed to grow colder, making Reagan shiver involuntarily.

"Are you a student here at Coldwater?" Officer Daniels asked, his tone professional but tinged with just the slightest hint of suspicion.

"Uh, yes," Reagan stammered, palms growing sweaty. "I am."

"Which program are you enrolled in?" the officer pressed, narrowing his eyes as if expecting Reagan to falter.

"Graphic design," Reagan said. Reagan had always been good at improvisation, but still, the pressure of the moment was intense.

What if he realizes the truth? He can't prove anything, but if they turn the spotlight of the investigation on me…

"Really? That's interesting," Officer Daniels said, trying to sound conversational but unable to hide that note of skepticism. "How long have you been studying it for?"

"Two years," Reagan said, feigning confidence. Inside, however, Reagan's mind was screaming at her. What the hell do you know about graphic design? What are you thinking?

"Tell me," Officer Daniels went on, leaning in closer, his breath warm and sour against Reagan's face, "have you noticed anything unusual lately? Strange people hanging around, or maybe someone acting out of character?"

Reagan hesitated, weighing the options. It was tempting to fabricate a story, to divert attention toward someone else. But something told Reagan that Officer Daniels would see through such deception. Better to go with honesty, albeit a selective version of it.

"Nothing really stands out, no," Reagan admitted, shrugging nonchalantly. "It's just...I never thought something like this could happen here, you know? Everyone's so shaken up."

"Indeed," Officer Daniels said, stepping back as he surveyed the somber faces of the other students. "We'll find whoever did this, though. I promise you that." He gave Reagan a long stare as he said this.

The pulse in Reagan's ears was loud, crowding out all thoughts. Come on, already. Don't you have better things to do?

Just then a voice called out, shattering the tenuous silence. "Officer Daniels!"

Officer Daniels' head snapped up, his attention momentarily diverted by a distressed college staff member gesturing frantically toward an angry-looking man fighting his way through the students—the victim's father, presumably.

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