Waking Hours by Lis Wiehl Page A

but the largest group had gathered at midfield between the thirty-yard lines, more than five hundred kids but fewer than a thousand, Tommy guessed. On the first riser of the bleachers, a few feet above field level, a microphone had been set up, connected to a portable PA system. Tommy stood to the rear of the crowd and listened. The first speaker was the school principal, who cautioned students against spreading unsubstantiated rumors, urged them to support each other, and told them the school guidance counselors would be available after school every day until five thirty for any students who needed someone to talk to.
    When she said the microphone was open for anyone who had anything to say or share, no one came forward at first, a silence that grew more awkward with each passing second. Then a girl stepped up and said she just wanted to say what a good friend Julie was to everybody, how she watched other people’s pets for free when the owners went on vacation, and how she cheerfully shared her food when other kids forgot to bring their lunch money. Another girl remembered how Julie had organized a campaign to send letters and Girl Scout cookies to soldiers. A boy said Julie was the kind of person who always remembered the names of new students. Her younger sister, Kara, spoke of how her big sister taught her how to read and let her sleep in her bed when there were thunderstorms and never ate the last brownie in the pan.
    Tommy listened, trying to hear any reason why someone might want to hurt Julie or take advantage of her. From the sound of it, Julie Leonard had led a sheltered life. There were no stories of Julie traveling in Europe with friends or trekking in the Himalayas. She was a nice kid who just wanted to have as many friends as possible.
    Vulnerable , Tommy thought. Victim began with the same letter.
    Tommy felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He reached to shut it off, but when he glanced at it, he saw he had a text message from Dani.
    A RE YOU HERE ? W HERE ARE YOU ?
    He texted back: I’ LL MEET YOU WHERE THEY DO THE COIN TOSS .
    W HERE IS THAT ?
    Y OU ’ RE KIDDING , RIGHT ?
    O F COURSE I’ M KIDDING .
    M IDFIELD .
    T HANK YOU . B Y THE WAY , KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN . W E THINK THE KILLER IS PROBABLY HERE .
    It made sense, Tommy thought, if they were dealing with a killer who was trying to make a statement of some kind. What good was making a statement if you missed the reaction?
    He surveyed the crowd, seeing mostly the backs of people’s heads and silhouettes in the darkness. There should be some sort of scientific device that could pick up someone’s evil aura, he thought, maybe an infrared camera that could discern between normal human beings and the cold-blooded variety. But the truth was that killers looked just like everybody else, had mothers and fathers, ate when they were hungry, felt hot in the summer and cold in the winter. What made them different? Dani could probably answer that. It was odd to think he could be within a few feet of a murderer and not know it.
    Dani was dressed in a black turtleneck sweater, jeans, and black boots that came to just below the knee.
    “Let’s not keep meeting like this,” he said. “How you holding up?”
    “Long day,” she said, smiling weakly. “I went through something like this earlier at the Grange Hall. Town meeting. People are scared.”
    “Then count me as ‘people,’ ” Tommy said.
    “I didn’t think of you as someone who was easily scared,” Dani said.
    “Define ‘easily,’ ” Tommy said. “Maybe shocked is a better word. Things are happening in this town that aren’t supposed to happen in this town. Or anywhere. It’s hard to put into words.”
    “You don’t have to. I know what you mean.”
    “If you had to guess,” Tommy said, “off the record, would you say whoever did it is likely to do it again?”
    “If I had to guess?” Dani replied. “Yes. Likely. But not right away. Meanwhile, everything seems suspicious. We had a