It was nearing six o’clock before Susan was able to finish up with interviews and follow-ups after the news conference. By now she was getting tired of saying pretty much the same thing over and over in “exclusive” interviews, in four different languages. But she figured that it was worth it, for the sake of the international exposure.

Realistically, she didn’t expect that she would be Acting Dean of Students for long. She had been available when needed, and that was that, but the international exposure from these interviews put a little more priority toward developing the international studies program, which was still her own primary concern.

“All right,” she told Brenda. “Let’s go before someone wants an interview in Mandarin. I think more than just coffee. I could really stand something to eat.”

“I’m getting hungry too,” Brenda agreed. “I missed lunch on the plane, not that there’s ever much to miss.”

“Let’s just go over to the dining hall,” Susan suggested. “It’s not normally open to the public but you can eat on my card. The food is a lot better than you find in a normal college cafeteria.”

“Is this something we should know?” a reporter from a national network asked.

“Not really,” Susan replied. “It’s just that Brenda and I know each other and we’re going to catch up on old times a little. I’ll be back in a while if anything breaks.”

The two of them started for the cafeteria, somehow managing to shed the nosy reporter on the way. Brenda had already worked out a deal with the cameramen to let her go by herself – she could probably get more out of Susan if she were to do it privately.

The dining hall was at about its peak rush by the time Susan and Brenda got there, though the food lines moved quickly. Brenda noted that the shooting was the main topic of conversation, though not the only one – there were some technical discussions about various classes that she couldn’t make head nor tail of.

Once they got their trays of food – and it appeared to Brenda that Susan was right, the food looked better than she remembered from her own college days – they got seats at an empty table for four in the corner of the big, noisy room. “God,” Susan said. “I’m glad to sit down and eat. This has been a day from hell.”

“You handled yourself very well, very professionally,” Brenda replied, stroking her a bit. “Maybe a little too stiff, but that’s fine. I’ve seen people try to be too casual and it usually bites them in the ass.”

“I’m glad you think so. I’ve never done anything like that before, and I hope I never have to again.”

Brenda thought it would be best to be casual for a few minutes, just to get Susan loosened up before she got down to what she really wanted to talk about, so she asked if there was any news about Spearfish Lake. Susan told her there really wasn’t, and that she hadn’t been there long enough in the last couple years to know. They talked about Wendy and Carole a bit, and got caught up on Susan’s family.

“I’m really impressed at your language talent,” Brenda commented after a while. “Does it run in the family?”

“Not really. Well, Mom speaks a little German, but not much. I mostly learned it from my grandmother. Henry only speaks English. Tiffany, well, she speaks English and dog.”

“Do they still do dogsled racing?”

“Not as much as they used to, though they still run the kennel, and there are some people who do dogsled racing out of there. Cody, you know, the cop?”

“Today?”

“Yeah, him. His mother has run the Iditarod three times out of Josh and Tiffany’s kennel.”

“Interesting,” Brenda said, sensing a way to get the conversation around to what she really wanted to talk about. “Do you know Cody and Jan at all?”

Susan glanced around to see that no one was overhearing. “Yeah,” she said. “This is off the record, all right?”

“Fine with me.”

“I’ve tried to keep quiet about how well I know them. Actually, in one sense of the word, I don’t know them that well, but Cody is a shirttail relative by marriage. He’s Tiffany’s husband’s brother’s son.”

“I can see why you wouldn’t want to say anything. But to me it seemed you had a lot more information about him than if he’d been just a typical student.”

“Well, more than that. I also rent my apartment from him. I used to own the building when I was a student here but I sold it to Cody and Jan when I graduated and they were incoming freshmen. That tidbit also didn’t come out today because I didn’t want to say anything, but most of the kids at the news conference this afternoon also live in the building, and come from Spearfish Lake.”

“I had no idea of that,” Brenda replied, sensing a little more. It might turn into a story, and it might not.

“Yeah, only Logan and Laura are outsiders, and Logan spends more nights with Nancy than he does in his dorm room, so he’s all but a housemate, too. Laura is just a friend, but she hangs out there some.”

“That almost seems a little strange to have so many people from the same house involved.”

“That’s part of the reason I didn’t want to get into it,” Susan replied. “But from what I can find out, it was pretty much just chance that all of them were there at the same time.”

“Hey, look,” Brenda said, deciding to lay her cards on the table. “You know where I’m coming from. I’m interested in breaking news, of course, but the worst of it looks like it’s already broken.”

“As far as I can tell, you’re right, depending on what happens with the Simpkins girl. I don’t know her. I think I’ve met her, but that’s all. I haven’t been back on campus that long and the people have changed a lot since I was a student here.”

“That’s bound to happen,” Brenda agreed. “Now, I think you know me well enough to know that I’m more interested in the story behind the story, and if you are your father’s daughter you’ll know what I mean by that.”

“You’re saying you’re more interested in feature pieces that show interesting things that come out behind the main story,” Susan smiled. “I remember that feature you did back after the hijacking a few months after the World Trade Center. You know, the millionaire prostitute.”

“Jennlynn Swift, otherwise known as ‘Learjet Jenn, the fastest woman in the state of Nevada.’ The story was titled, The Fast World of Learjet Jenn. I got lucky on that one, but it turned into a really good story. I’m still in touch with her every now and then. She mostly has turned straight, and is even more well off now. She is a really unique and complex woman. It was very interesting to do a story on what made a woman like her tick, and I’m very proud of it. She’s originally from right up the road from here, you know.”

“I didn’t know that,” Susan replied, making a mental note. If she remembered the story correctly – and it had been years – the Swift woman was well-off and very tech oriented. Perhaps she might be interested in helping support the university. She’d have to get a little more information from Brenda, but now was not the time. “But I saw it and that was a heck of a good piece.”

“So was the followup piece I did with her on street prostitution a couple years later. Those are the kinds of things I like to do,” Brenda said, “the kinds of stories I’m interested in. What do you think the chances would be to do an extended feature interview with the Archer kids?”

“There’s no way of telling. They tend to be pretty private and they have good reason to be. Don’t get me wrong, they’re open with their friends, but they’ve had to deal with a lot of issues in their lives, and mostly they’ve turned to their family – which is to say his family – and each other to do it.”

“That by itself might make a pretty good feature,” Brenda pointed out.

“I think it would, too,” Susan said. “They are really a very unique pair, and there are connections between the two of them you don’t see in most married couples.”

“They’re not married?”

“No, but only in name. In ways, she’s his un-adopted sister as much as she is his wife. Like I said, a unique and complicated relationship, but they are very, very close. I happen to think they would make a great feature, but you’ll have to gain their confidence, and that doesn’t come easily, especially for a reporter when the subjects are publicity shy to start with. I can vouch for you but that will only go so far, and I think things will have to blow over a little, first.”

“Maybe we could meet casually, like for dinner, based on the fact that we’re sort of old friends. At least your father and I are.”

“That might make for a first step, but only a first one. I really can’t make any promises.”

“It’s a start,” Brenda conceded. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy. “Look, I have to ask you. You got to be the Acting Dean of Students awfully quickly, and I understand the former Dean was canned this morning for speaking out of turn. What about him?”

“Honestly, Brenda, I told Dr. Thompson I wouldn’t say anything about that, on or off the record.”

“I understand, but it would be nice to have a hint.”

Susan thought for a moment. She’d more than had her fill of deRidder the last few weeks, and what he’d done today was really stupid. “All right,” she said. “But only a hint. He was superintendent of Spearfish Lake Schools when Cody and Jan were students there. That’s all I dare say. You can find out more but you’ll have to dig for it. It won’t be hard to find if you do the search.”

“You’re saying ask your father?”

“If I were you and looking to find out about something that happened in Spearfish Lake, that’s where I’d start.”

“Thanks. That’s a big help. Any other ideas for a possible feature?”

“Several come to mind,” Susan nodded, glad of the change of subject. “I’m afraid they’re not going to be like getting into Jennlynn Swift’s head, though.”

“What are they?”

“I know I’m going to sound like a PR director on this one, and for the moment I am one. But really, this is an interesting school, and it’s different from most colleges. Most of that comes from the school president, Dr. Thompson. He’s a very interesting and unique man himself, and I think a feature on him and what he’s accomplished here could be damned interesting.”

“Possibly,” Brenda replied, not exactly rejecting it, but she was willing to take it under consideration. “Any other ideas?”

“Well, I know we have a very small Wiccan community here on campus,” Susan replied. “It looks like Reed was targeting it. At least three of the kids hit today were part of it, and that’s a fairly big chunk of it. How big a chunk, I don’t know.”

“I knew about Simpkins and Wallace. Who’s the other?”

“The Jahnke kid and his girlfriend,” Susan said. “Again, I don’t know how much they’re willing to say about it. They’re on the close-mouthed side about any involvement, and I don’t know any details. I can introduce you, maybe by having you to dinner as a friend, but you’d have to take it from there.”

“Well, that’s a possibility,” Brenda said. In fact, Susan had now given her several ideas. Whether any would pan out was another question, but she had something to start with. This dinner had proved to be a really good idea.

“You know,” Susan mused, “There’s another really good story, but honestly, Brenda, you’re the only person I know who could treat the story sympathetically and do it justice. But, next to Cody and Jan, it might be the best one of the bunch. But you would just about have to be the one to do it.”

“What’s this?”

“I can’t believe this hasn’t come out already,” Susan smirked. “But you remember Laura Delacroix?”

“The girl who you said had a bullet glance off an article of her clothing? I never really understood that, but I never thought to ask about it, either.”

“Well, I was trying to be modest about it, and I’m amazed neither you nor anyone else picked up on it. The bullet glanced off the waist band of her metal chastity belt.”

“She was wearing a chastity belt? I don’t believe it!”

“It’s pretty well known around campus that she wears it. I’ve even talked with her about it. She has several reasons for wearing it, some of which sound like excuses to me, but the bottom line is that she says she wears it because she likes wearing it.”

“Why in hell would she like wearing a chastity belt?”

“Brenda, you’re the second to last person on earth who ought to be asking that question. I remember you and your handcuffs.”

Brenda understood just exactly what Susan was talking about. Back in her days at Spearfish Lake, she’d gotten to know Carole and Wendy Carter. Wendy was a quadriplegic, the result of a jetski accident, and Carole had worn handcuffs continuously to try to identify with her sister’s troubles – had worn them for six years, in fact. Brenda had gotten curious about what it was like, and had worn Carole’s spare pair continuously for two months. Several life-changing epiphanies had come out of that, along with a story that won her the Aherns Award and set her on the track that wound up with her working for WNN. What’s more, there had even been a book about her experience, written by Wendy, who now was a well-known writer of epic fantasy.

“That’s not the same thing,” Brenda replied defensively.

“Probably not,” Susan smiled. “But you’d be closer to it than anyone else I can think of, and because of it you’re the only television reporter I know of who might be able to understand it and treat it sympathetically, not as her being something of a freak. Laura is a girl who really has her act together. She has a very good sense of who she is, where she’s going, and is comfortable with it. Granted, it sounds screwy as hell, but no screwier than you wearing handcuffs for two months.”

“I suppose I’d have to approach her carefully, too.”

“Maybe not. Laura is very open about the fact that she’s wearing a chastity belt, and just about everyone on campus knows about it. You don’t want to be confrontational, but if you can make a friend out of her you could get a very interesting story out of it. There’s a lot more to her story than I’m telling you here, but I want you asking her about it, not me.”

*   *   *

While Susan and Brenda were having dinner and an interesting discussion in the Southern Michigan University dining hall, sixty miles or so to the north Mary Lou Kempa was having a much less interesting dinner in her room. Her jaws were still wired together, so her dinner consisted of chocolate milk and chicken noodle soup that had been run through a blender. It was not very satisfying, but at least she could say it was food.

It had not been a very happy week for Mary Lou. She was still incensed at Nancy for daring to take up with some stupid guy and turning her back on her true love! Then to have that zit-faced Vixen get involved and break her jaw again – it was almost too much to bear!

Mary Lou had really wanted to go down there again today and try to reason with Nancy, but it hadn’t worked out. First, Ray was nowhere to be found. After contemplating it more than a little, Mary Lou had made up her mind to swallow her pride and let Ray fuck her so she could get the use of his car again, but he was gone so she’d been spared that dishonor, at least for now.

Then, sometime over the course of the day, she’d heard about the shooting down at Southern Michigan University. She didn’t know any details, only that people had been hurt, but she reasoned that the place was probably in an uproar and it wouldn’t be a good time to try to talk to Nancy. She reluctantly decided that another weekend might be better – especially as Ray’s car was unavailable anyway.

So there was nothing do but sit in her room and study, not that she was interested in that. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing in college, anyway. If Nancy had come with her, they could be having a good time, but something had possessed Nancy to take up the idiot idea of turning her back on her true love and going to Southern. Now Mary Lou was just wasting her time here and she knew it.

About that time her roommate piped up, “Hey do you mind if I watch a little TV? The news is on, and there might be something about that deal down at SMU today.”

“Go ahead,” Mary Lou replied. She didn’t like her roommate very much – not only was she as straight as an arrow, she was pretty religious, and Mary Lou knew she didn’t have a lot of use for lesbians. So far it hadn’t degenerated into open warfare, but there was no telling when that might start up. “I’m curious about it myself.”

In fact, she was curious – not so much about the shooting, but whether Nancy had been involved at all. That would really be tragic.

It turned out there was a lot of news on about it – it was a slow news day, as President Obama hadn’t said anything much more offensive than “Good Morning,” which even the most conservative pinhead commentators couldn’t whine about. There were brief segments of a news conference held by some woman Mary Lou thought she’d seen before but couldn’t put a name with. The shooter was dead, killed by a cop by the name of Cody Archer, who Mary Lou did recognize as from Spearfish Lake.

There were several brief interviews with students who had been in the room. Jack and Vixen were among them – Jack had been slightly hurt, but Vixen not touched, Mary Lou thought to her regret. If anyone deserved to get punished for the shit that had happened last weekend, it was Vixen. That pimple-faced bitch deserved anything bad that could happen to her …

Then, unexpectedly, there was an interview outside an emergency room with Nancy and that miserable, lousy guy! Mary Lou cringed as she watched Nancy say, “When my boyfriend Logan realized what was going on, he grabbed me, threw me on the floor and got on top of me to protect me from the bullets.” In sheer horror Mary Lou watched the look on Nancy’s face, a look of love that ought to have been directed at her, “He saved my life.”

“No! Nancy! No!” she cried through her wired-together teeth. “Please! No!”

*   *   *

On their way to pick up the cars, the group from the Spearfish Lake House also picked up Nancy and Logan, then Cody and Jan. That filled the two cars, and filled a table at the back of the Chicago Inn in Bradford, just off I-67 fifteen miles away from the campus. It was far enough away that there weren’t likely to be camera crews or people who would recognize them.

“Wow,” Cody said, looking around the table. “All we’d need is Susan to make the house complete.”

“We asked her,” Jack said. “She’s extremely busy dealing with media. They’re overrunning the place.”

“I really don’t want to talk about what happened today,” Cody replied quietly. “But I’ll tell you that having to face up to reporters and cameras is probably going to be harder on me than anything else.”

“You’re just going to have to deal with it,” Jack advised. “But I’m sure Susan will help any way she can.”

“Let’s just not talk about it tonight.” Cody said. “I’m willing to talk about anything else, but I’ve had nothing but this shit on my mind all day, and I’d like to get away from it.”

“We can understand that,” Summer said. “I’ve had enough of it for myself, too.”

“Cody and I have been wrapped up over in that room all day,” Jan said, “and I’ve had my fill of it, too. The same stupid questions over and over again, like nobody can think of anything else. It happened, we knew it happened, and it’s over and done with. I didn’t have to go through stuff like that when Cody rescued me a few years ago.”

“That’s because Charlie Wexler has a sense of proportion,” Cody said sarcastically. “These guys are required to justify their own existence.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, “but that wasn’t the point I was trying to make. What I was saying is that we still don’t know much about what happened outside. Alan, Logan, I knew you were wounded, but how are you, really?”

“I’m all right,” Alan said. “They put some stitches in, and I have some antibiotic pills to take. If there’s any sign of infection I’m supposed to go back and have it checked out.”

“If you have any problem, see me, and I’ll take a look at it,” she said. “I’ll try to take a look at it every day or so anyway. That dressing needs to be changed, and I can do that.”

“I’d appreciate it, Jan.”

“No problem,” she said. “Logan, how about you? I know you were hurt worse than Alan was.”

“It is worse,” Logan said. “I had a couple of stitches and antibiotics, too. They don’t think the muscle is too badly damaged but they’re not sure. They gave me some pain pills, too, and I think I’ll be glad I have them.”

“The same thing,” Jan said. “I’ll look at it daily and if there’s any problem I’ll deal with it.”

“That might be a little hard since I don’t live in the house.”

“Bull,” she grinned. “You spend so much time there you ought to be splitting the rent with Nancy.”

“Logan,” Nancy said. “I’m willing if you are.”

“Willing if you are what?”

“To share the rent with you. Look, I know you don’t like living with Trent. Why don’t you move in with me? That way I can help nurse you along with Jan.”

“God, I’d love to,” he replied. “And yes, you’d be a heck of a lot better to room with than Trent. But I’m stuck there for the semester, now.”

“Just because you have a room in the dorm doesn’t mean you have to live in it,” she pointed out. “I have the rent covered, and I’d be happier if you were there with me.”

“Actually, your dorm room shouldn’t be an issue,” Cody pointed out. “The housing situation is so tight that there’s a waiting list to get in the dorm rooms, even in the middle of the semester. Things change, and people are looking to move all the time. I think you’ll find that the housing office will be glad of an opening and this early might be happy to give you your money back.”

“If that’s the case,” Logan said, “Nancy, I’ll take you up on it. Like I said, I’d rather live with you than Trent, anyway; you’re a whole lot prettier.”

“Thank you Logan,” she smiled. “Believe me, I’d much rather have you for a roommate than Mary Lou.”

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