84: Goodbye

"They killed her, Brian. What am I going to do? They killed her!"

"Hang in there, Josh. Hang in there. We're on our way." I hung up the phone and turned back to the table. The girls were all looking at me, waiting to find out what was going on. "Josh is in the hospital," I said. "Denise..." It was like someone sucker-punched me in the solar plexus. I doubled over and heaved. Then I heaved again before the girls could even respond. I dropped to my knees. "She's dead."

Rose fainted. Sam threw up. Jen and Courtney screamed.

Whitney grabbed me by the collar and practically dragged me to the bathroom. Water was running in the sink and she dunked my head. Cold!

"Be a rock!" she snapped at me. "Josh needs you. We'll cry tomorrow. Right now, be a rock." I didn't bother to clean up the kitchen. I grabbed my keys and Whitney snatched them from me. We jumped in the car as the garage door was raising and she started the car. As soon as we were clear of the other car in the driveway, she spit gravel all the way to the road. "Where?" she asked.

"Memorial."

We were at the hospital in ten minutes and running for the front desk.

"I need Josh Whitaker's room, please."

"May I see your ID please?" The receptionist said. "No one under eighteen is allowed without a parent."

"What is this, a hospital or an R-rated movie? I need to see my friend. He called me."

"Excuse me, young man." I thought it was a security guard and tried to calm myself. I turned to look at a police officer. "What is your business with Josh Whitaker?"

"I'm his friend. He just called me. He said he was hurt and Denise ... that Denise was dead. I've got to see him."

"What's your name?"

"Brian Frost." The cop looked at a pad he was carrying.

"I'll take care of this, Libby," he said to the receptionist. "Follow me." Whitney fell in with me and he turned to her. "Just Brian."

"I go where he goes." She said it flatly. The cop had to look up at her. He thought for a moment.

"Name?"

"Whitney Anderson." He looked at his pad again and made a note. Then he shrugged and led on. We went up two floors and he walked us to a room. Mr. Whitaker was in the room with Josh. A nurse was just leaving.

"Thank God you're here," Mr. Whitaker said. "He wouldn't take any pills until he saw you and he's in pain."

"Josh, I'm here," I said. "I'm with you, buddy."

"Brian. Whitney. They jumped us when I took her home about four. I never even saw more than a shadow. They hit me with something and all I heard was Denise scream. That cop," he pointed over my shoulder, "he said she was dead. What am I going to do? She can't be dead. Please go tell them she can't be dead." Fuck! Josh was a mess. He had bandages on his head and one arm was in a cast. He winced with every breath he took and a stiff collar kept him from turning his head.

"I don't know, Josh. You gotta get some rest, though. I can see you're in pain. You've got to take the pills they brought you so you can get healthy. We'll figure it out. We'll make sure they don't get away with it. We'll find out what happened. You can't do anything until you get out of the hospital."

"Take the pills," Whitney said as she leaned over Josh and kissed his forehead, careful not to touch his nose. It was swollen and his eye was black and blue. She held the pills in her hand and he took them and the water she gave him. "I'll help you get through this, Josh. You're my teammate."

"We made love. You know that spot out on Capital where they've bought all the farms. We had everything planned and took blankets out there after the dance. It was so beautiful with the moon. We fell asleep and I had to get her home. I got out of the car at her house and went to open her door. Just when it was open I got shoved against the car. She screamed and they hit me. I don't know ... don't know how I got the broken ribs and arm and nose. I don't know. I need Denise. Go get her, Whitney. Please? Tell her she's not dead." Josh faded off as the pills took effect.

We just stood there looking at him, Whitney gently petting his head as he went deeper under. I turned and the cop was scribbling things in his notebook.

"What are you going to do?" I demanded. Mr. Whitaker laid a hand on my shoulder. I think it was in support.

"He just gave us more information talking to you than he'd given the detective earlier. We're calling it in and having a comparison made to see if we can eliminate a sexual assault. If the semen found in the victim is his, then we don't have anything to go on. As it is, we don't have a suspect."

"Don't have a suspect? I can give you half a dozen. Just go through Denise's neighborhood and look for the hoods smoking pot and leaning against cars near her house."

"Wait, there was semen?" Whitney asked. The cop looked at her warily.

"Denise and Josh always used condoms. Always. Denise wasn't on birth control." I could see him breathe an 'aw fuck' silently.

"We'll still have to confirm that. But she was ... I can't really say anymore. It would compromise the investigation. We'll still need more concrete information than he saw some kids smoking pot in the neighborhood. You probably all smoke pot."

"We're athletes. We don't do drugs. Of any sort."

"Right. You need to clear out now." He stopped to respond to his walkie-talkie. "A crowd is gathering in the waiting room. I want to talk to each of you."

"Mr. Whitaker, please let me know when I can come and visit Josh again. You know we'll be here."

"Thank you for coming, Brian. He insisted that he had to talk to you. You really changed him and I loved Denise like a daughter. They could have come home and I wouldn't have objected. They didn't have to go back to that neighborhood at four in the morning. I..." Shit! He was in as bad a shape as the rest of us. But he needed to be with Josh.

"We'll find out what happened and make sure they catch the bastards." Whitney and I followed the officer out of the room and back to the waiting room downstairs. About a dozen of our friends were there and Lionel, Sugar, and their parents walked in as we entered the room.

"What is this? An after-prom party? There's nothing for any of you to do here," the cop said.

"Now see here, Officer ... Adams," Rose's dad said, looking at the badge. I was glad he was here. He was a lawyer. Well, he worked in real estate law and title search, but that was still a lawyer. "These people have a legitimate interest in the condition of the young man who is hospitalized. There is no need for you to start throwing your weight around. I assure you, the law has more weight than you do."

"No one can go see him. That's the way it is. He's asleep." Brenda, Carl, and Louise came in with six parents following. "I have questions for some of you while you are here. He pointed at Lionel. "You. Step over here." Mr. Davis went with the officer. "You won't be needed."

"I'm his attorney. He won't answer any questions without me present. And since he is a minor, his mother, Mrs. Trane, will also be in attendance." You could just see the officer's demeanor sink. "I suppose you represent all of them." Mr. Davis nodded. "Wait until I call the station." He waved them away and went to make a call. There was another officer standing at the door and when Doug, Rachel, and Doreen came in he rolled his eyes and just pointed our direction.

"Has anyone been able to get hold of Mr. Raymond?" I asked. "He must be devastated." Sugar's dad turned and said he'd find him. Everyone else gathered around Whitney and me. I saw her mom and Dave come in and rush to her. I wished I had my parents. I'd have to call them, too.

We related what we knew. There was a lot of crying and at one point I had to run to the bathroom and throw up again.

When I came out, Cassie was waiting for me with her parents. She'd been crying—like all the rest of us. She rushed to me and just hugged me as long and as hard as she could.

"Brian," Mr. Clinton said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "I know that we aren't ... shall we say, the same religion. But if it is okay, I will pray for you and all your girlfriends and their boys. I'll pray for comfort and for strength." I looked at him, not letting go of Cassie as she clung to me.

"Mr. Clinton, I would be a fool if I spurned a friend's prayers for my comfort and strength. We might not be on the same page spiritually, but I have the utmost respect for you, sir."

"I've always liked that about you, Brian. I'm so sorry about your loss. And yes, Cassie, you may."

I looked at Cassie and she whispered to me.

"We're all coming to your house tonight if that's okay. We need to be together." I thought fleetingly of Whitney but it was just another layer of the sadness of this night.

Anna was churning out food as fast as she could direct Brenda's, Rose's, and Carl's mothers. My driveway was full of cars but they'd left a path for me to get to the garage if I steered carefully. There were eighteen of us. Josh and Denise were missing. So were our three college girlfriends and Rhonda. As I thought this, another car pulled into the drive and Elaine came rushing to me. I was thankful she'd made it safely while crying all the way.

We ate and I grabbed the phone to call Mom and Dad.

"Brian, I called your parents," Anna said. "That's not to say that you shouldn't call them, but they know. Harry is on his way as soon as he can get a flight. Nona needs to stay with Betts for a while. They love you, Brian."

"Thank you, Anna. I was so overwhelmed I couldn't call them earlier. I should talk to them now, though."

Mom and Dad were concerned, but they respected me enough to not be over-solicitous. At the same time, Dad let me know that he was going to be beside me tomorrow night and would always be there for me. Betts came on the phone and just whispered, "I'm so sorry, Brian. I love you." She didn't even try to change the subject to her new little baby.

"You kiss my little niece Maddie for me and say her uncle can't wait to meet her," I told my sister.

We were headed for bed. I didn't think anyone had brought clothes for a sleep-over but it didn't seem to make a difference. Anna wasn't checking for proper sleep attire.

"We could have a full meeting if Josh and Denise were here." I didn't even know who said it, but I ended up in the bathroom hunched over the toilet retching up the pizza we'd just eaten.

Dead. Dead was forever.

I need you, Rhonda. I don't know what else to say, honey. I need you.

It was four-thirty. Whitney was cuddled to my side and had insisted once we were in bed that I lose my shorts and cuddle naked with her. Rose, Samantha, Jennifer, and Courtney had claimed the rest of the bed and had no qualms about undressing with the rest of our group in the room and crawling in beside me. Liz, Elaine, Cassie, and Nicolette shared a pad and a couple blankets. Brenda and Louise were cuddled up next to Carl and though both girls were topless, they all had their underpants on. Geoff and Sora hadn't undressed at all, I don't think. I didn't know about Lionel and Sugar or about Doug, Doreen, and Rachel. They'd claimed a spot kind of behind my desk and I didn't think they even had a pad under them. I faded back to sleep, clutching Whitney more tightly to me and feeling the others in my bed move closer as if by touching each other we could ward off the memory of the past day.

At six o'clock, Whitney prodded me awake.

"Get up. We need to work out," she said.

"Today? Whitney..." she was already standing naked beside the bed and I dragged myself out from between Rose and Sam.

"We need this."

I grabbed my sweats and shoes and Whitney and I headed downstairs. There was already dawn light as I followed Whitney out past the barn to the pasture. She must be afraid we'd wake the others. We started on our forms and I had worked up a bit of a sweat by six-thirty.

"Tiger," Whitney declared, coming at me in a long lean pounce. I stepped aside.

"Whit, I don't want to spar."

"Defend yourself or die," she said flatly. Her next punch came straight at my midsection and I sank into the earth to become a rock. I wasn't going to do this. It stung, but I wouldn't fight my lover. Her roundhouse kick glanced off my shoulder as I turned away from her.

"No. I won't." I recognized her next punch as it came toward my face and my hands acted without my conscious thought. I blocked. Blocked the next kick and stepped into her past the jab. "Stop it!" I demanded. She didn't stop. My reflexes took over and I blocked and responded. She blocked and punched. I kicked. Most of our blows were blocked by the other person, but several landed and I had fleeting thoughts about how that must have hurt her tit with no pads and pulled a punch at her face at the last moment. Whitney did not let up and we were both panting. I was knocked down but before Whitney could pounce on me again I'd rolled and sprung to my feet. Punch, block, kick. Conscious thought was gone and my body was responding. My anger rose. How could she do this on a day of mourning? How could she expect me to attack my lover? I punched, intending to do damage, but she side-stepped and rounded a kick into my shoulders. I rolled to my feet and faced her. The murderer. The bastard who killed my Denise. I wanted to kill her. I sent a flurry of punches at her and she stumbled back. As she fell, my heart broke again. She was on her feet almost before she had hit the ground. I dropped my hands.

"No. I don't want to do this." I felt her blow hit my chin and collapsed into darkness.

I woke to the sound of running water. I was naked and Whitney held me in her arms as we sank into the tub together. She'd carried me? I looked at her and saw a bruise darkening on her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," I said, reaching to touch her face. She grabbed my hand and held it.

"Never stop while your enemy can still attack," she whispered. "I love you so much, Brian. I know you'll do something. You always do. Never stop while your enemy can still attack. You have to promise me, Brian. Promise you will never turn your back on your enemy."

"You could have just told me that instead of beating the shit out of me."

None of us went to school the next day. Mr. Davis came to the house and collected a dollar from each of us and told us we were not to discuss anything with the police without him present. Apparently the cops were convinced that it was someone in our group who was jealous of Denise and Josh that had jumped them. What a load of crap. He told us that we were all officially represented by his law firm and that he would make sure we all had attorneys with us any time the police wanted to talk to us. Lamar and Renee showed up as he was giving us his lecture and each handed him a dollar. He looked at his list.

"I need Donna and Rhonda," he said. "Where are they?"

"Donna's in school at Oberlin and Rhonda moved to Evansville," I said. "I doubt if we'll see them."

"What happened to you, Brian?" he said, looking at my face. Then he looked at Whitney. "Did you two go looking for trouble?"

"No sir," I said. "We had a little fight."

"You ran into a door, you say?"

"Um ... yessir."

"Rose, get makeup on these two. Hide those bruises." We went with Rose and applied arnica before she put a makeup foundation on both of us and made sure it was blended in so no one would see. I wasn't sure about the fat lip, but I guessed I didn't look like I'd really been in a fight. I'd have to remember that makeup stuff. It was about twenty minutes later that a police detective arrived. Of course, he went immediately after Lionel and Lamar since he figured they were the most likely to object to a black girl dating a white boy. Mr. Davis immediately got between them and told the officer that he wouldn't be allowed on any fishing expeditions. If he didn't have evidence for questioning these minors, he would have to settle for the basic facts and he would recommend that his clients answer no questions that were outside the realm of name, age, and establishing the last time Denise and Josh had been seen. The detective wasn't happy, but he didn't have any reason to question any of us about the murder. We all loved both Denise and Josh. We wanted the damned guy to go arrest some suspects.

He tried to turn us against each other, too. Suggested that we had a traitor in our midst. Even questioned Nicki's mental state at having been left alone on prom night. Nicki was in a panic, but her dad had come into the house just before the detective started on her.

"Officer, you are harassing my minor daughter. May I have a word with you, please?" Mr. Duval's voice was like steel and when he'd identified himself, the detective moved to the kitchen with Mr. Duval and Mr. Davis. Ten minutes later, the detective left. I didn't even know what Mr. Duval did, but it must have been impressive. He and Mr. Davis stayed in the kitchen consulting for a while and then came back into the family room where we were all gathered.