Chapter Twenty-Three: The Public Accusation
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Public Accusation
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Public Accusation
Antoine said that the party was mostly a bust for him. None of the other players he had met had any connection to Ruck that he could find. He was starting to think that he would have to play in the game tomorrow. That was only a problem because he didn't know what position he played or even what plays this team ran. All he knew was that they liked to run the ball and that SMU had a good defense but a weak offense.
I wasn't sure how that information was going to come in handy.
Kimberly had even less useful information. All the sorority girls had talked about were great places to shop around town, boys, and things that were happening in their classes. She spent most of the evening with Antoine.
Anna described everything that had happened to her from her perspective. “Ruck drank and drove to the party because Nathan was far too gone to drive anymore. Evan told me he had recently gotten broken up with because of accusations of infidelity last year. He wanted me to know he would never do that. Basic boy stuff. We went to the back and saw a lineup of suspects arrive and yell at Ruck. Then someone, probably the SMU guys, started tearing up the field. You know the rest. Anything else, Camden?”
“Not much. Mark is just really happy to have gotten into medical school. No drama,” Camden answered.
“Evan’s really into you,” Kimberly said to Anna.
Anna laughed. “I prefer guys with free will.”
“But not, like, too much free will, right?” Kimberly asked.
We all laughed at that.
I estimated the time to be around eleven at night, but this world ran on “movie time” which never made too much sense. As we sat, we noticed a lot of NPCs had begun walking toward the college.
It started to rain gently. NPCs took out umbrellas and trudged forward.
“Next scene?” Anna asked.
I nodded cautiously. The others agreed.
A lot of shoppers and shopkeepers alike left where they were to follow the crowds.
Soon enough we saw a familiar face among them.
“Nathan,” Anna said, holding up her hand and drawing his attention.
He looked far more somber than he had earlier that night and a great deal soberer. He walked slowly over to us.
“Ruck thought of you as a friend,” Nathan said, speaking to Anna. “We're doing a candlelight vigil at the football stadium. I thought you would come.”
“Of course,” Anna replied. “How did you manage to get this together so quickly?”
Nathan looked around at the people solemnly walking toward the football field. “It was Evan. He can do anything if he puts his mind to it. You know, it's funny. Ruck never would have thought that people would mourn him. I guess he never knew how much people cared.”
Talk about a sudden shift in tone.
We walked in silence. I had never been to a candlelight vigil before. Many of the people who attended appeared to have just woken up out of bed, gotten changed, and come out. They look tired but they played the part of the heartbroken community very well.
I had never really thought about the lives of NPCs. Did they just wait around all day for the script to tell them to do something? Were they just laying at home asleep only to wake up and realize they had to get dressed and go to a memorial service for another NPC?
Some of them I recognized from being at the party but others were clearly just filler. You could say they were extras. Never meant to be looked at too closely.
By the time we got to the stadium, the stands were almost full and a temporary stage had been erected on the part of the field that had not been torn up.
The students started to pile into the remainder of the field, even the part that had been damaged by the goalpost. Officer Ricky tried to stop them at first but gave up after he got overwhelmed. He tucked his whistle in his pocket.
Everyone stood watching the stage.
There was a line of chairs on the stage accompanied by some NPCs, most of which had titles to go along with their names on the red wallpaper. They were affiliated with the school for the most part except for the sheriff and a couple of deputies. There was a psychologist there probably acting as a mental health advocate after the tragic loss of a student. Like all of the other NPCs, these had three plot armor.
Evan was up there too. He stood next to an older man with a pronounced bald spot and big, horn-rimmed glasses whose name was Dean Lewinsky. “Dean” as in the title for a person who runs a college, I imagine. I doubt his name was also Dean.
Dean Lewinsky was the first to speak. He stood in front of a wooden podium with an attached microphone. He read a short speech off of a piece of paper in his hand.
“Dear members of the University of Carousel community,” he said, adjusting the microphone in front of him so that it caught his voice better. “It is with a heavy heart that I stand before you today to address the tragic and untimely death of one of our students, Russel "Ruck" Johnson only hours ago. Ruck was a beloved member of our community, a student who was loved by his peers and respected by his professors.
“Unfortunately, we have lost Ruck in an act of senseless violence that has left us all shaken and heartbroken. As we mourn the loss of this bright and promising young man, we must also come together to support his family, friends, and loved ones during this difficult time.
“We do not yet know all of the details surrounding Ruck's death, but we are working closely with law enforcement to ensure that those responsible are brought to justice. Our thoughts and prayers are with Ruck's family and friends as they navigate this painful and difficult time.
“As we come together to mourn Ruck's passing, let us also remember the many contributions he made to our community during his time with us. Let us honor his memory by continuing to work towards creating a safe and inclusive community where all students can thrive and reach their full potential. Thank you.”
From the sound of it, I doubted that Dean Lewinsky had ever actually met Ruck.
After reading his speech, Dean Lewinsky adjusted his glasses and stored the piece of paper inside a coat pocket. It would probably stay there until he needed to read it for the next dead student. I wondered if he was one of the characters that were shared between storylines.
“Some of Ruck's friends have elected to speak tonight,” Dean Lewinsky said. He looked over to Evan.
Evan got up and leaned into the microphone and asked, “Nathan would you like to go first?”
Nathan walked up to the stage and took his spot in front of the podium.
“I can't even believe it. When they told me Ruck was really dead I… I just thought this couldn't be real. I thought I must have been imagining it but unfortunately…” he trailed off for a bit as the emotion overwhelmed him.
After a moment, he continued.
“When I told Ruck that I always wanted to be a surgeon he told me that was great because he always wanted to live in a surgeon's pool house,” he paused as the crowd let out a nervous laugh. “That was when I knew that we would always be friends. That was who Ruck was, he was someone that you always wanted to be around. I wish that I could be around him right now. It's ironic that this is the exact type of social gathering that Ruck was so good at making bearable. I'm still going to try to be a surgeon and the first life I save, I'll do it for him.”
Nathan could barely get out the last part of his speech before he began to cry and left the stage abruptly.
“I guess it's my turn,” Evan said.
“Ruck,” Evan said. The name caught in his throat. I could see that he was struggling with the death of his friend. “He was a great guy. And a great friend. He would do anything for those he loved.” He looked away for a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I've known Ruck for a long time. You know, freshman year he was actually shy. He was afraid to pledge to a fraternity. It's crazy to think now but that's what people do—they grow, and they mature. It's hard to wrap your mind around the idea that one day, people might just stop moving forward, that their growth might be taken from them. We'll never know what kind of man Ruck would have become but I think I would have liked him.”
Evan used the podium for support; he was having difficulty standing. “What's so hard about this is that I know who he was before and who he became, and I think I had an idea of who he was going to be but that's not what anybody is talking about. All they're talking about is that a frat guy got killed at a party like it’s some sort of punchline. I heard what the news reporters were saying.”
He took a deep breath.
“Ruck didn’t deserve that. What Ruck deserves is justice. And what we deserve is answers. And I think I know how to get both.”
After he said this, the crowd erupted in whispers. Curious faces looked from side to side to see if anyone knew what he was talking about. Anna looked over at me, an eyebrow raised, but I had no answers. I didn't know where Evan was going with this.
“Because I think I know who did it. He's standing here today at the memorial service like he's here because he cares about Ruck, but he isn't. He didn't leave the Delta Epsilon Delta house when everyone else did. People saw. He got to the field later than everyone else too. I can't think of any good reason for a person to stay behind like that and not tell anybody. I'm going to ask the police to investigate what that reason is.”
The sheriff walked across the stage toward Evan and whispered something in his ear, a question.
Evan looked directly at me.
“It was Riley Lawrence,” he said. He pointed his finger at me and everyone in the crowd turned to look at me.
The crowd’s whispers turned into full gasps as people stared at me in horror.
“Why did you do it?” Evan asked me directly, his voice echoing over the stadium. “What were you even doing at the house? No one invited you; I asked around.”
He turned his attention back to the crowd. Tears formed in his eyes as a look of absolute hatred appeared on his face. “He's a freak. He sits around all day watching horror movies. He’s obsessed with death and gore. Maybe even snuff films. He's probably involved in the occult--a devil worshipper or something. I think that’s why he did it.”
“Oh, shit,” I said.
Suddenly so much of what had happened in this storyline started to make sense. How no one at the party was talking to me and anyone who acknowledged me just stared. Evan, Mark, and Nathan basically just ignored me because they couldn't be friendly with me. It was against the script.
All this time I thought that I was being treated that way because I didn't have any scripted interactions—because I didn't have a role to play. I was a minor character.
But I did have a role.
I was a suspect.