Vortex

  Dedication

  To Anton

  May your bright editorial light continue

  to shine on my head. I am blessed.

  Catherine

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Catherine Coulter

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1

  Near Pauley’s Farm

  Valley Forge National Park

  Early spring

  A full moon cast pale shadows over the two men digging and flinging dirt out of a hole, their movements rhythmic. The moonlight was bright enough they could see the small pebbles in each clump of dirt, see each other’s sweaty dirt-streaked face.

  Snake stopped digging, swiped the back of his hand over his eyes. “I’m tired. Can we give it a rest a minute?” He eyed his best friend, let the words pour out. “It shouldn’t have happened, man. She was a gamer, like us, and when I told her my handle was Snake and yours was Dante, she laughed, told me she loved World of Warcraft. Her online handle was CoolGirl34, she told me, and then she leaned up and whispered to me she liked to call herself Aolith the dreamer because the name was so magical. I never even found out her real name. She was fun, Dante, she even joked she hoped she wouldn’t fail organic chemistry because she couldn’t put down her PS4. She wanted more superhero women who don’t look like porn stars. She was alive, laughing, just a while ago—”

  Dante kept his voice earnest. “Snake, you need to stop the recriminations and calm yourself, look forward. What’s done is done, and yes, I’m as sorry as you are this accident happened, and that’s what it was, an accident. Don’t forget that. Whatever this girl was or wasn’t, whoever she was, it doesn’t matter now, we can’t let it matter. Like I said, we have to look forward, get this task done and get on with our lives.”

  “You think it’s a task? We’re burying her, Dante. And it wasn’t a bloody accident!”

  So much for trying to comfort the idiot. Dante said, voice hard now, “Aolith wasn’t your soul mate. She was only a girl you just met whose time had come.”

  “Yeah, sure, like we should blame her karma. We made her time come. She might have been my soul mate, who knows? All right, so she told me she had a boyfriend, but he wasn’t with her tonight, so maybe it wouldn’t have lasted. She is—she was—what, twenty? What kind of relationship lasts when you’re twenty?”

  Dante punched Snake’s arm. “Get hold of yourself. There’s nothing we can do about it now. She figured out we’d given her my girl-juice, she was about to scream and give us away. Don’t tell me you would have preferred she bring us down? I had to hit her to shut her up. We were lucky to get her out of there without anyone noticing, not that most of those drunk young morons would have paid attention, even if we fired off a shotgun.”

  “Your fire in the kitchen was crazy risky, but I’ve got to say, it gave us cover. Still—”

  Dante shrugged. “Nothing else to do and it got everybody panicked and running, not paying attention to anything else. So maybe it was overkill, but who cares? We’re here and we’re safe.”

  Snake shook his head. “I still can’t believe she just died, right there in the car.”

  “So now we have to make her disappear, forever. They’ll start looking for her soon enough, but they won’t have a clue. We can’t be here all night though, so keep shoveling. It’s time you thought about yourself, Snake.”

  But Snake looked down at his blistering hands, his gloves forgotten back at the frat house. “This shovel we stole is crap, it’s got no heft, even for cutting into this soft earth.”

  “Look, we lucked out even to find shovels and a tarp in that barn without any lights coming on in the house. If you break that crap shovel, Snake, you’ll have to use your hands. I’m not doing this all by myself. We’re in this together. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  They dug in silence again, shoveling up dirt, throwing it over the side of the grave. Snake stopped. “I think after she’d given us all the sex we wanted and we cut her loose, I would have called her later, gotten together with her, maybe, gamed with her. Who knows? Fact is, you screwed up, let her see you putting something in her drink and you had to kill her.”

  So Snake wouldn’t let it go. Of course Snake blamed him, it was par for the course. Blame on top of his nonstop whining. Dante wanted to hit him so hard his own crap shovel broke, and bury the two of them together. He forced himself to be patient as he said matter-of-factly, “I gave her the same amount I always use. Who knew she’d figure it out? Don’t you blame me, not my fault.” He paused a moment, studied his friend’s face. Time for mending fences, a touch of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Snake, you liked her. Sure, you wanted to spread her out and have at it, but what happened wasn’t anybody’s fault.” He bumped his fist against Snake’s shoulder. “Hey, I guess we can only give this one a projected score, right? On spec? Hey, what’s this?” Dante leaned down, picked up a shiny piece of metal, raised it. “It looks like a really old belt buckle.”

  Snake, distracted, studied the buckle. “I’ll bet it goes way back, maybe one of the Revolutionary soldier’s belts from the camp at Valley Forge. There’s writing, maybe a name on the back of the buckle, I can’t see well enough to make it out.”

  “Look, here are some buttons, too.” Dante shrugged, slipped the buckle and the two buttons into his jeans pocket.

  Snake froze. “Did you hear that? Someone’s out there, maybe a hunter, or a couple of kids making out? They’ll see us, call the cops.”

  Dante didn’t spare him a look, just kept digging, heaving shovelfuls over the side. He swiped sweat out of his eyes. “Sure—a hunter in a park at midnight. If it’s kids making out, believe me, they’re not going to be paying any attention to us. Come on, Snake, I know you have bat ears, but there’s nothing out there to worry about. We were really careful when we carried her in, there’s no one around. But we don’t want to be here this close to Godwyn or that freaking fraternity house any longer than we have to be. Another foot should do it. We’ve got about four feet, yes, another foot should keep the animals from smelling her, digging her up.”

  Smelling her? Animals digging her up? Snake looked over at Aolith’s tarp-covered body, felt bile rise in his throat. She’d been so beautiful, so alive. “Really, I know she’d have gone for me if I’d asked. I don’t want to do this anymore, I don’t want to troll with you anymore.”

  Patience, patience. Dante said, “She was pretty drunk so she might have agreed to sex, but she wouldn’t have gone for both of us at the same time, not without some help from my girl-juice. Yes, I agree
with you, I hate it as much as you do.” He shrugged. “It’s a real pity, but what’s done is done.” Like Snake, he looked over at her body. The pity was she hadn’t waited to die until he’d enjoyed her. “Anyway, we don’t have to think about anything now except finishing this up. After you’ve thought it over, accept it was a tragic accident, I think you’ll change your mind about going trolling again. You have too much fun with the girls.”

  Dante stopped digging a few minutes later. “Deep enough. No reason to get any dirtier.” He threw his shovel out of the hole and Snake followed suit. Dante cupped his hands under Snake’s foot, took his weight, and heaved him out of the grave. Snake looked down at his friend, always in charge since they were boys, always deciding what they were going to do and how they were going to do it. Until tonight his girl-juice had worked like magic. They’d always used condoms, cleaned the girl up, and gotten her clothes back on before they left her in her car or her apartment. Did any of the girls they’d had ever even suspect what had happened to them? Who knew? There’d never been any blowback. Snake remembered one of Dante’s girlfriends in Boston. They’d shared her over and over that night, and what a rush it had been. What was her name? Biffy, Button, something like that. She’d broken up with Dante not long after that magic night. Had she remembered anything? No one could ask her now. She’d died in a car crash only months after they’d shared her.

  Since Dante was bigger, heavier, Snake had to brace himself to pull him out of the grave.

  They stood a moment, looking down into the black hole. Dante nodded toward the body. “Let’s get her in and covered up. I’ll call Alan, tell him we’re on our way. We can shower, spend tonight at his pad. Shouldn’t take more than a half hour to Philadelphia this time of night.”

  Snake said, “We’re filthy. What do we tell Alan?”

  Dante shrugged, gave a laugh. “Not the truth, that’s for sure. We’ll tell him we had a wild party in the woods and he should see the girls. Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something perverted enough even for Alan’s jaded palate. Can you see him as a US congressman like his dad one of these years? Boggles the mind.”

  “Well, what about you? That’s what your family wants for you, too.”

  “I haven’t made up my mind yet. Not important now, Snake. Let’s focus on what we’re doing.”

  Snake looked down at Aolith’s body, felt cold grip his guts, and the rising bile again. He whispered, “I wish you hadn’t died, Aolith.”

  Dante’s hands fisted, his patience nearly at its end. “Well, she did. She was asking for it, Snake; she came on to you with all the gaming lingo. She did that, not you. Think of it this way: at least she went out happy. She’ll be young forever.”

  Snake stared at his friend, wondering if Dante was dissing Aolith on purpose because he knew Snake liked her. He realized he couldn’t talk because he’d start crying.

  They lifted the body over the grave and dropped it in. Snake saw a clump of her black hair as he dug his shovel into a mound of dirt and swallowed convulsively.

  Aolith the dreamer wouldn’t be forever young. She’d be forever dead.

  When the grave was flat enough, they spread rocks and branches on top. When Dante was confident everything looked natural, they carried the shovels back to Dante’s Jaguar, fit them diagonally in the small trunk, slammed down the lid. Snake watched Dante pull out his cell and call Alan Brandt in Philadelphia, ask him if he’d like to have guests tonight. Snake heard him laugh at something Alan said.

  They drove slowly along the narrow dirt road to the Schuylkill River Trail, to turn onto 1-76 E to Philadelphia. They made one stop to throw the shovels away.

  The night once again became still and silent. An ancient naked-branched oak tree hovered near the grave. A deer came to sniff at the flattened earth, paused, raised her head, and slowly backed away into the forest.

  The earth settled, bluebells grew through the branches they’d left, blanketing Aolith’s grave in the spring. The oak tree spread its thick green-leafed branches over the grave.

  Year after year.

  2

  Delta Rho Phi Fraternity Rave

  Godwyn University

  Creighton, Pennsylvania

  Five hours earlier

  “Mia, stop!”

  When Mia looked over at her friend, she pulled up. “What? You don’t want to go to the rave?”

  Serena Winters took her friend’s shoulders between her hands, shook her. “Of course I want to go, but this moment, I want you to pay attention. Now, listen up. Yes, he’s a creep and a loser and a cheat, and you were smart enough to see what he is and kick him out the door. What did you expect from that jock? He probably keeps a scorecard.”

  Mia sighed, kicked a pebble out of her path. She still felt angry enough to spit. She said, “You did tell me Rod would cheat on me if I didn’t put out—and right away. Like buy a girl a hamburger and she owes you sex? Them’s the rules? I heard some of these frat boys keep their scorecards posted in the common room.”

  Serena said matter-of-factly, “Some of the girls in our dorm collect guys, too, keep count, they just don’t advertise it as loudly. Look, Mia, it’d have been worse if you’d slept with him, so that’s something you don’t have to feel mad about.”

  Mad? After how he’d treated her? Mia wanted to kick him in his crotch until her knee hurt. Then use her other knee.

  Mia said, “Doesn’t it ever worry you that Tommy Maitland’s a jock? And not just any jock, the starting quarterback?”

  “Yeah, he is, but Tommy’s one of a kind, you know that. Of course I wondered about him at first, but it didn’t take me long to realize his head’s on straight. Of course he thinks about sex a lot—he has to since he’s a guy and it’s hardwired—but he isn’t out to score all the sex he can get in four years. He wants to be an FBI agent, like his dad, a bigwig in Washington, so Tommy knows he’s got to be disciplined, take all his decisions seriously. And he’s been raised right, he and his three brothers. Tommy tells me his old man is tougher than any of them. He says the only one tougher is his mom.”

  Mia looked at her best friend grinning at her from ear to ear, her beautiful hair all twisted up on top of her head, to make her look taller, she said. Serena was a dynamo, full of energy, always ready for almost anything, not to mention she was a knockout with her black hair, white skin, and blue eyes. Black Irish, Serena claimed.

  Mia splayed her hands. “All right, I give up. Tommy’s a fricking saint, and unlike me, you lucked out.”

  Serena wiggled her eyebrows, whispered, “I wish he’d come with us tonight to this rave, but his mom had her appendix out yesterday. He and his brothers all zipped back to Washington to hold her hand. They say it’s a good sign when a son really loves his mother, right?”

  Mia didn’t have any brothers, but she supposed that was true. She said, “I’ve never been to the Delta Rho Phi rave before, but I do know we’ll have to be careful. There’ll probably be drugs. I heard there’ll be guys from other schools there, older guys, too, so be watchful, okay?”

  “A bunch of our friends will be there. We’ll stick close to them. We’ll be fine. But look out for more guys like Rod, they litter the ground.”

  Mia looked down at her watch. “It’s been going on for a while now, so we’ll have some catching up to do. Good grief, listen.” They were a block away from the Delta Rho Phi house when they heard the music—a heavy metal band playing on the frat house sound system at a gazillion decibels, crashing through the air. Mia would bet the frat house was shaking from the force of it. They heard voices shouting to be heard over the music, and the manic laughter of people well on their way to being drunk, or high on something.

  They wove their way through dozens of students from the hallway into the large common room of the seventy-five-year-old Delta Rho Phi fraternity house. It was a huge old colonial that housed a lot of horny boys who studied only when they were shackled to their desks by looming deadlines. A frat house for academics it wasn�
�t.

  All the furniture was shoved to the edges of the room, and about forty boys and girls with beers or glasses of gin or the house specialty, the recipe known only to Delta Rho Phi, vodka-laced lemonade, in their hands were gyrating to the deafening music provided by a DJ who looked like he’d been feeling no pain for quite a while already. Mia smelled the lemons as she slipped into the chaos, spotted friends, and accepted a beer. She and Serena stuck close to them for about thirty minutes, but by ten o’clock, most everyone had sailed past drunk from the specialty of the house. The music seemed to get louder and louder, the dancing wilder. At least seventy-five close-packed kids were on the dance floor, going crazy.

  Mia was drunk, maybe not as drunk as most of the others, but she was getting there, laughing, dancing in place with whatever student was getting close, slurping up a delicious deadly drink the frat boys called a Crazy Mary. The boy next to her was glassy-eyed he was so drunk, and even that made her laugh. She’d kissed off two frat guys she’d seen on campus because she could tell they were jerks like Rod only out to score. She admitted to herself it’d be nice to meet a guy who wasn’t as drunk as the rest, but good luck with that.

  Serena was talking with a guy she’d met, a bit older, probably a grad student. He was another gamer, Serena told her as she hugged Mia on their way back from the bathroom. He was smart and funny, and “how lucky is that?” she said.

  The one time Mia paid any attention to them, Serena’s gamer guy had his back to her. He was gesticulating wildly, slicing down with some imaginary sword, probably demonstrating his winning move in some computer game, and Serena was nodding and laughing along with him. Mia supposed he looked nice enough. Someone grabbed her arm, whirled her around to dance, and after that she never stopped dancing. With friends, with strangers, with anyone who wanted to. She danced until her legs ached, but she didn’t care. She drank, she laughed, she forgot about Rod the Loser. Then she nearly fell and realized she’d fall on her face if she didn’t stop. She slipped to the side, looking for Serena, but didn’t see her. A guy’s arm came around Mia, moved to her breasts, and without thought, she threw the rest of her drink in his face. He laughed like a hyena as he tried to use her arm to wipe off his face.