--5--
Tearing out Kidd’s heart was no longer an option.
According to every reporter on the scene, someone had already beaten him to it.
--6--
The following afternoon they all met in Trey’s room. The girls perched on the side of his bed; Bird sprawled in a papasan chair with his knees up and his arms wrapped around them. Trey stood with his back to the door.
All eyes were on him.
“Cops talk to you?” asked Bird.
“No. You?”
Bird nodded. He looked as scared as Trey felt. “They asked me a few questions.”
“Really? Why?”
Bird didn’t answer.
“They came around here, too,” said Jonesy. “This morning and again this afternoon.”
“Why’d they want to see you guys?” asked Trey.
Jonesy gave him a strange look.
“What?” Trey asked.
“They wanted to see you,” said Anthem.
“Me? Why would they want to see me?”
Nobody said a word. Nobody looked at him.
Trey said, “Oh, come on. You guys have to be frigging kidding me here.”
No one said a word.
“You sons of bitches,” said Trey. “You think I did it, don’t you? You think I could actually kill someone and tear out their frigging heart? Are you all on crack?”
“Cops said that whoever killed him must have gone apeshit on him,” murmured Bird.
“So, out of seven billion people suddenly I’m America’s Most Wanted?”
“They’re calling it a rage crime,” said Jonesy.
“Rage,” echoed Anthem.
“And you actually think that I could do that?”
“Somebody did,” said Bird again. “Whoever did it must have hated Kidd because they beat him to a pulp and tore him open. Cops asked us if we knew anyone who hated Kidd that much.”
“And you gave them my name?”
“We didn’t have to,” said Anthem. “Everyone on campus knows what you thought of Kidd.”
And there was nowhere to go with that except out, so Trey left them all sitting in the desolation of his room.