Driven Snow (16 page)

“SHOULD WE
call a doctor?”

“I am a doctor.”

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“He’s fine. Trust me.”

“Why doesn’t he wake up?”

Snow forced his lips to move. “I’m ’wake.”

“See, I told you he’s okay.”

“Looks like a drowned rat. But he sure is a pretty one.”

“Where ’m I?”
Mouth not working. No pucker.

“What did he say?”

A finger dragged Snow’s eyelid open. Bright light shone in. Snow turned his head to the side. “Ouch.”

“He wants to know where he is.” The voice got closer. “You’re in the Iota Pi fraternity house at Grimm College.”

Snow focused and finally got a flutter. His eyes opened slowly. He lay on a couch of some kind, with blankets up to his chin. Two guys sat in chairs beside the couch—the stocky one he’d seen at the river and a tall, almost unbelievably handsome man maybe a year or two older than Snow. The handsome one smiled and the stocky one with the beard frowned. Both said, “How do you feel?”

“Uh, okay, I think. I haven’t tried moving all my parts yet.”

Bearded boy said, “Don’t strain anything, but just tell me if I should call the cops.”

“I’m not dangerous.”

His frown deepened. “Not for you. How did you get in the water?”

Good question.
“I’m not entirely sure. I was going to the hospital with this guy. The cousin of—anyway, he stopped at a drugstore. I got out of the car to, uh—so I got a whiff of this smell, and I woke up in the water inside the car. I waited for the pressure to equalize, pushed my way out the car door, and got carried by the current. I caught hold of the branch, and that’s where you found me.”

“What happened to the guy who was driving? The one who went in the drugstore?”

Snow shook his head, and it felt like water still lodged in his ears. “No idea, but there was no one in the car when I woke up.”

“What seat were you in?”

“Passenger seat. Shotgun.”

“Is there a chance the other guy was driving and got thrown from the car when it went over an embankment or something?”

“Not likely unless the door then miraculously closed on its own. Nothing was open.” He shuddered and tried not to feel the water rising past his mouth.

The beautiful guy put a hand on the covers on top of Snow’s leg. “It’s a miracle you weren’t killed. I’m Randy Romulus, by the way. People call me Romeo.”

“I’m Snowden Reynaldi. Snow.”

Short and stocky said, “The chess guy?”

“Yes.”

“Son of a bitch. I thought you looked familiar. I’m Doc. Or rather, that’s my nickname, since I’m in med school. My real name’s Merchester, but that doesn’t matter.”

“Glad to meet you both.” He pushed the blanket off his shoulders and sat. His skinny, bare chest shivered even though the big room was warm, so he pulled the blanket back around him. “I guess I better get up and start calling people. My phone’s gone. Maybe I could use one of yours?”

Doc nodded. “Sure. We didn’t see your phone. So what do you think happened to you?”

He shrugged. “I think someone drugged me and tried to kill me.”

Romeo said, “No shit?”

“I know it sounds nuts, but I was getting out of the car when I smelled this acrid odor. Next thing I know, I’m more than halfway to drowning. I can’t think of an accidental excuse that works.”

Doc wrinkled his broad forehead. “No chance you had a couple too many and piloted your car off the bridge?”

“A. I can’t drive.”

“That might be a good reason for driving off a bridge.”

Snow wrinkled his nose at Doc. “B. I was in the passenger seat like I told you and was belted in. C. I never had anything to drink.”

Romeo took his hand. “Why would someone want to see you dead?”

“I’m not really sure. I’m not anything special.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Romeo smiled. Wow, he sure earned that nickname.

“Hey, Doc, can we meet the guest?” A tall, skinny guy with red hair leaned around the archway that led into the big, messy room where they were sitting.

“Sure. Might as well bring everybody in quick.”

Five guys crossed into the room and stood staring at Snow. Doc waved an arm. “These are the Iota Pis. You met Romeo. This is Gormet.” He flicked a finger at the tall guy. “Then there’s BB, short for Ballet Boy, Lib, Hacker, and Bash.” The last guy outweighed Riley by fifty pounds, all in his biceps.

Snow tried to smile. “Hi. I’m Snow.”

The one called Lib, a delicate, attractive guy with dark hair, cocked his head. “You sure are pretty.”

Romeo laid a hand on Snow’s thigh through the blanket. “That’s what I said.”

Hacker chortled, “Watch out for Romeo, Snow. He could talk the ayatollah into homosexuality.”

Snow stared at his hands. “I’m gay too, uh, but I have a boyfriend.”

Gormet laughed. “Never stopped Romeo before.”

Doc stood. “We better call the cops.”

Snow shook his head. “I can’t prove anything. Hell, I don’t know anything.”

“Still, we better.”

“Okay, but can I use a phone?”

Romeo fished a brand-new phone from his pocket and handed it to Snow. It smelled like aftershave. Snow stared at it. How odd not to call Professor Kingsley first. He fished the digits out of his near-photographic memory and dialed.

“Hello?” Riley sounded tentative and worried.

“Riley, it’s me.”

“Oh my God, Snow. Oh shit.” Was he crying? “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Yes, I’m okay now. Somehow I wound up in a car in the river, but I escaped, and some guys helped me. I’m at Grimm College. In a fraternity house. They’re calling the cops since I think I was drugged, so I’ll probably have to be here for a while.”

“Tell me where. I’m coming.”

“I’m giving this to Ro—uh, Randy. He’ll tell you. Oh man, I can’t wait—okay, here’s Randy.” Snow handed the phone to Romeo and swallowed his heart out of his throat. “Would you tell my friend how to get here?”

The cops got there in fifteen minutes; Riley took twenty since Grimm was miles from NorCal.

The police officer had just asked, “So you didn’t see anyone—” when Riley walked through the frat house door. The other fraternity brothers milled around in the hall, trying to look casual, but Riley still stuck up over most of them except Bash.

Snow didn’t think. “Riley!” He leaped up and ran to Riley, where he got scooped into a huge hug.

“Oh man, I was so worried. Mrs. Kingsley called looking for you, and I just freaked.”

Snow leaned back. “What?”

“Yeah, she called a few hours ago. Said her cousin had come home claiming his car was stolen. She thought you might have taken it, but I told her you couldn’t drive.”

The police detective stepped beside Snow. “Excuse me, but this sounds like something I should hear. I’m Detective Sanchez.”

“Riley Prince.”

“So who called you and what does she have to do with the owner of the vehicle?”

They sat down and talked for two more hours. During the conversation, another policeman called Detective Sanchez to say they’d located the car at the bottom of the NorCal River, a mile from the embankment where it appeared the car had entered the water.

Snow frowned. “Sir, can they tell if it ran off the road or how it ended up in the river?”

Sanchez talked for a few minutes. When he hung up, he said, “They think it was pushed. It doesn’t appear to have been traveling at a high speed when it went into the water.”

Riley’s arm tightened around him. “God, that means it had to be done on purpose.”

Sanchez nodded. “Possibly. We’re reporting it as suspicious.”

“Who in the world would want to kill me?” Snow shook his head and swallowed hard.

“Perhaps no one. There may be another explanation. Obviously robbery wasn’t a motive. They took nothing and didn’t even keep the car. Could it have been a prank gone awry?”

Riley tightened his lips into a line. “Some prank. It has to have something to do with chess.”

Sanchez turned to Riley, notebook in hand. “Why do you say that?”

“Snow’s this big chess champion.”

“I know that.”

“He’s favored to win the Anderson Chess Tournament. Maybe somebody doesn’t want him to play.”

The detective dropped the notebook into his lap. “I hardly think someone is going to commit murder to up their chances of winning at chess.”

Snow nodded. “I agree. Chess players are pretty rabid, but I don’t think anyone would go that far.”

Riley snorted.

Snow looked at Riley. “Do you think someone was trying to get to you through me? Like punishment for luring you?”

Sanchez frowned. “What do you mean?”

Snow turned toward Sanchez. “Riley came out to his football team as gay. A lot of people don’t like it.”

“Yes, I heard that. You think someone didn’t like it enough to try to kill Snow?”

Riley shuddered. “Jesus, I hope not.”

“Maybe they didn’t think it would go so far? Didn’t consider that he wouldn’t be able to get out of the car?”

“I guess some jock could be that stupid, but man, that’s tough to swallow.” Riley wiped a hand over the back of his neck.

Sanchez leaned back on the ratty couch Snow had been sleeping on. The big room where the fraternity brothers lived contained a lot of chairs, two worn couches, and what seemed like a million laptops, TVs, and game controllers in many manifestations. “Has anything else unusual happened recently?”

“My mentor and coach fell ill. He’s in the hospital. That’s where I was going when this all happened.”

Riley nodded. “It was his wife who called me.”

“The cousin of the vehicle owner?” Sanchez jotted it down.

“Yes.” Snow pressed a little closer to Riley and suppressed a shudder. “The cousin, Hunter, was the one driving me to see Professor Kingsley.”

“Interesting full circle.” Sanchez scratched a few more words and closed the notebook.

“You think it’s significant?”

“Probably not. How did the professor fall sick?”

Snow glanced at Riley. “His heart, I think. It’s interfering with his breathing. That’s what Mrs. Kingsley says. They won’t let me see him because I’m not family.”

“I hope he gets better soon.” Sanchez stood. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll probably have to ask you more questions.”

“I have two weeks until the tournament. Then I have to fly to Las Vegas.”

“Stick around until then.”

Riley stood beside Sanchez, pulling Snow up with him. “What if it was an attempt on Snow’s life? Shouldn’t you put a guard on Snow?”

“We’re going to keep investigating, and hopefully we’ll find some reasonable explanation for this whole thing soon. As you said, why would someone want to kill you?” He smiled and patted Snow’s hand. “If you don’t take any chances, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Isn’t that taking a big chance with Snow’s life?”

Sanchez shrugged. “We’re a small-town police department, and I don’t have the luxury of staff for guard duty. I think you’ll have to be his guard, Prince, and something tells me you won’t mind.”

Riley shook his head. “Of course I’ll protect him, but I can’t be with him all the time. Sometimes I’m in class or on the field.”

Snow held up a hand. “I’ll be fine. Whoever this was took me by surprise once, but not again. I’ll stay with people I know when I’m not with Riley.”

Sanchez looked toward the front door of the fraternity house and gave a tight smile. “I’m guessing after the media circus this is going to create, no one will dare make a move against you.”

Snow stared at the two news vans parked at the curb and the Iota Pis happily conducting interviews on the front lawn, pointing toward him with wild gestures. He heard words like “murder,” “nearly drowned,” and “hero.”

His stomach hit his shoes. “Oh my God.”

CHAPTER 15

“GOD DAMN
them all to hell!” The newspaper flew through the air, scattering pages as it went.
Kill. Want to kill something.
Anitra grabbed the laptop and raised it over her shoulder.

“Hold on, Lady Macbeth. You’ll be sorry later if you wreck that.” Hunter grabbed the computer from her hands and carried it into the dining room.

She whirled and took a few steps after him. Yes, he was right. She didn’t have the money to afford multiple laptops—yet. “If you hadn’t blown this so thoroughly, our precious Snow would be fucking melted by now instead of being hailed as the hero of NorCal and half the state of California.”

“I blew nothing. I couldn’t kill him before he drowned. Coroners can pick that out. I’ve got no idea how he got out of that car. Hell, I drugged him first.”

She gritted her teeth. “Obviously not enough.”

“Again, I could only use what I thought would dissipate in his system quickly. Be reasonable, Anitra. I did what I was told.”

He had a point. More importantly, he had a cock, and she needed one, and soon. She narrowed her eyes. “The higher that little twerp flies, the farther he’ll fall.”

For a flash, Hunter frowned.

Hmmm. Maybe he got sucked in by the little prick and didn’t even try to kill him.

Then Hunter plastered on his easy smile. “What do you have planned next?”

“That’s for me to know.”

“You better not get too daring, dear. The police are already calling the circumstances suspicious. If you try again, they’ll really dig in. Both of us could be implicated.” He smiled tightly.

Yes, the bastard. If he gets caught, he’ll sing like a bloody Wagnerian soprano.
“I have many resources you know nothing about. I’ll tell you when I need you. Meanwhile, bring your best feature upstairs. That I need now.”

SNOW STARED
down at the quiet, gray face with the breathing tube sticking out of his mouth. He squeezed the professor’s hand. No response. At least it was warm. Someone had once said, “Where’s there’s life, there’s hope.”

He sat back in the chair at the bedside. They’d finally let him in to see Professor Kingsley because Snow was a “hero” who “was trying to get to the professor when someone abducted him and tried to kill him,” and “he should be rewarded for his bravery.” Whatever worked, although there sure as hell wasn’t anything brave about self-preservation.