struggled to break free, but his grasp was too strong. Before I knew it, Rachel had appeared by his side. She yanked his stool out from under him, causing the man to bang his head on the counter.
“Hey, bitch,” said the man as he stood up.
Rachel snatched a beer bottle off the counter. The man stared in horror as it floated towards him, clonking him on his skull. He ran off, knocking tables and chairs over. I stared aghast at what just happened. A few people eyed me peculiarly. I waved at them. Instantly, Rachel grabbed my arm, pulling me from the bar.
“You need to be more forceful,” she scolded me.
“Look what you did,” I said in shock.
“Oh, he’ll be alright,” she said passing off my concerns as little importance. “When a guy won’t leave you alone, you don’t politely ask them to leave. You force them to go away.”
“My mother always said that girls should be sugar and spice and everything nice. You know, like that poem.”
Rachel looked at me as though I had just told her I had seen Bigfoot. “You’re kidding, right?” she said. “In this place, sometimes you have to be sugar and spice and not so nice. Come on.”
We reached the top of the steps. The music wasn’t quite so loud up here. I glanced around at all the people in the booths. Some were couples, but most were groups of friends out for a good time.
“There she is,” Rachel said, pointing to a girl in her early twenties. She had shoulder length, blonde hair with red highlights. Thankfully, she seemed to be alone. I weaved my way through the tables and booths towards Sara.
“Hi,” I greeted her. “My name’s Mel.”
She put her drink down. “Sara,” she said, “Nice to meet you. First time here?”
“Yeah.” I helped myself to a seat. “I just moved here for school.”
“Welcome to Vermont,” Sara said. “You’ll be coming here often, I’m sure. Everyone does.”
“You here alone?” I asked.
“Am now. I came with some people but they wanted to go to an after party. I figured I’d finish my drink and go home. You live on campus?”
I couldn’t believe my luck. Sara had just given me the perfect opening. “I moved into the Alamont Apartments, not far from campus. Apartment 214.”
“Rachel’s place,” said Sara. She set her drink on the table. “Why’d you move there?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “Cheap rent and furnished. I didn’t know about Rachel until after I signed the lease.”
“Don’t worry about it,” apologized Sara, “Of course, you didn’t know. It was a place to rent. And who wouldn’t at the price they were offering?”
“Did you know Rachel well?”
“We were good friends,” said Sara. “Rachel was always fun to be around. This was our favorite place to hang out.”
I tried to think of a way to ease into questioning about the night Rachel died. I couldn’t, so I just jumped into it. “I hear the cops never found who killed her.”
“No. Those bastards. They didn’t even try.”
Clearly, Sara thought that the entire case had been mishandled. That boded well for me.
“They focused on Tom, but that guy couldn’t hurt a fly. He was one of those rare ones that is a genuine gentleman, and isn’t gay.”
I nodded my head in understanding at that last statement.
“Tom loved Rachel. And she loved him. I mean, they were truly in love. They had just gotten engaged two days before. No one knew, but me. No, Tom wasn’t the type. Naturally, there was no evidence for a conviction and the cops let the case drop because they were too lazy to reconsider their list of suspects, or suspect.
“Poor Tom,” Sara continued, “He was devastated by Rachel’s death. The constant bombardment by the cops ruined his life here. Afterward, everyone thought he had done it. He packed up and left when the investigation ended. Didn’t even wait for the semester to end.”
“And no one’s heard from him since?” I asked.
“Nope. He left no forwarding address. Said he didn’t