Tristan

Tristan by Henry H. Hilliard

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Chapter 25

Tau Alpha Mu Fraternity were to hold their most famous party on the Saturday after Spring Break. Proceeds were to go towards the fraternity's pet charity, a halfway house in Austin for young offenders.

This Greek house was neither for jocks nor nerds, but contained an acceptable measure of both. It was more famous for its lineage, being the oldest fraternity house in the University, dating back to the First World War when the college was primarily for students of Agriculture and for churning out engineers to feed the Oil Boom. It was richly endowed and invitations to their parties were therefore always sought after.

The principle benefactor in the Frat's infancy was one Titus W. Eveley, an oil baron whose death had been precipitated by the Tea Pot Dome Scandal in 1923. By the peculiar terms of his will, the millionaire's skeleton, clothed and stuffed with straw, was preserved in a glass case and gifted to Tau Alpha Mu and it was this gruesome curiosity that Tristan was now inspecting as the party got underway.

"He's really thinned out," said a voice at Tristan's elbow. "I really should show more respect; we're supposed to doff our hats and say `Howdy' when we pass--but few do nowadays."

"You're a brother?" asked Tristan as he turned to the voice. He was a hot-looking college boy, a little shorter than Tristan, broad shouldered and with raven-black hair.

"Yeah, but live off campus this year. Daddy bought me a condo in Rocky Creek." Tristan knew the area--it was an expensive country club estate.

"That must be nice," said Tristan a little bit lamely, for he was busy staring into the unnaturally blue eyes of his interlocutor.

"Well, it's a might quiet, that's why I like to hang out with m'frat bros sometimes. You live in Charles C. Selecman, don't you?" Tristan nodded. "With all those hot jocks." Tristan had learned all he needed to know. He nodded again. "D'y'all know Colt Stone the quarterback?"

"Yes, he's my roommate."

"Well, fuck me!" he said, laughing. He thrust out his hand in a forthright way that Tristan's London friends, or even Yankees would never do, but here it was part of the Old South. "Sam Rice," he announced.

Tristan found himself returning the gesture and giving his own name.

"Isley? Are you related to Mark Isley of Globboco?"

"He's my dad," Tristan readily admitted. "How do you know him?"

"He's been to my folks place for dinner a few times with your mom. Dad's in gas drilling."

"She's not my mum, she's Dad's girl...partner," he amended.

"Yeah, well, small world n'stuff," Sam said hurriedly, obviously wanting to cut to the chase. "Well, I think you're pretty hot and y'all have a real cute accent. Will y'dance with me later?"

"How do you know I like boys?"

"This ain't my first rodeo," said Sam with a sly laugh and sounding like Colton, "But I'm not wrong, am I?"

Tristan shook his head. They tried to talk a bit longer, but the room was filling up and the thumping dance mix was turned up to full volume. Sam indicated that he would get them drinks and disappeared in the direction of the bar.

Tristan took the opportunity to look around. The frat brothers were richer and more `preppy' than Tristan was used to at this university. The party was lavishly catered for, with bar and kitchen staff. There was the slightly awful gloss of American money to everything and Tristan quickly decided that many of the brothers were likely to be pricks and arseholes, especially when the alcohol and drugs took affect as the night progressed. However, he did not think so badly of Sam who seemed pretty nice, despite obviously being rich. With a shudder, he hoped that others could say the same thing about him.

"Where's y'hawt friend?" shouted Alexinia over the music.

"Bar!" screamed Tristan and tossed his head in that direction.

"Where's y'boyfriend tonight or is he getting' t'be broad minded?

"Shut the fuck up, Alex!" said Tristan turning red. "Colt isn't m'boyfriend and he'll be along later. He was working for Dr Baddeley tonight." He had to repeat this to be understood and then he had to repeat it again for Carlos.

"He sure is a nice, rich white boy," said Alexina with a grin as she saw Sam returning with two proper glasses of something.

"Watch out for y'self, man," said Carlos, darkly "I don't trust these assholes and we don't want anything to happen t'ya."

"Why should it?" began Tristan just as Sam came up to them. Tristan tried introductions, but it was useless so they just smiled at each other until Sam pulled Tristan towards the dancing.

Tristan spent a good deal of time with Sam. They managed to have a few snatched conversations but were more effective in sizing up each other physically. Sam was obviously popular and was frequently caught up with other people, sometimes being made to dance or drink or share a joint. Tristan also danced with Leesha who took time out from her conquest du jour--a tall guy with glasses--perhaps a basketball player with astigmatism; Tristan was unable to hear what she had said. Rachel was absent, having a weekend at home in Dallas for some family function and so Leesha had the field to herself.

As predicted, some of the less savoury frat brothers were becoming obnoxious. Tristan tried to laugh for Sam's benefit, but found them boorish and juvenile. He wondered, for a moment, if he was becoming like his father at just twenty.

"Who's that?" asked Tristan. One of the brothers had his shirt off and was standing on a table simultaneously pouring a drink over the head of one of the waitresses while he grasped a girl--a party goer--and was trying to force her to do something--Tristan realised after a moment that he was forcing her to snort cocaine.

"Rockwell Rusk--`R.R.'."

Just then Colton appeared--a head taller than most in the crowd. He was dressed in his party gear--tight Wrangers (which Tristan knew were just pulled over his naked body) and a tight white tee-shirt. He was still tanned from Miami. He couldn't see, but he knew there'd be cowboy boots down below--perhaps worn without socks.

He was smiling as he scanned the crowd, nodding and saying `howdy' to those he knew. He fist-bumped Carlos. Then he saw Tristan. Then he saw Sam. Tristan looked to Sam, but Sam had not seen Colton's slight frown.

Colton shouldered his way through the crowd, by-passing Rockwell Rusk, Colton's dazzling white tee-shirt a marked contrast to R.R. who had something spilled the down his rumpled pants--or perhaps he had just pissed himself.

"Hi Tris. Sorry I'm late. Bike had a flat."

"Colt, this is Sam. He's in the frat but is more together than his brothers over there."

"Howdy" they both said with neutral emotion, but hands were not shaken on this occasion.

They exchanged a few words when the music permitted, Sam being at pains to make it clear he did not live with his more unsavoury brothers. Football was employed as the universal topic. Suddenly alcohol flew through the air. The three skilfully moved out of the way but the people behind them received a soaking. A young Latina server appeared with a mop, only to be drenched herself. When she stood up and Tristan saw she was near to tears. They looked to where the sticky rain was coming from. It was R.R. and his friends. They were taking turns at spinning round on a table while holding bottles of uncorked Glenfiddich, the whiskey spraying like a lawn sprinkler. Colton made a disgusted noise.

"Excuse us," said Sam and took Tristan by the hand to a drier area where there was dancing.

Colton was quickly snapped up by people he knew. Tristan saw him later with a girl who was probably half drunk or stoned. They were dancing close, hands over each other and Tristan saw their lips briefly meet.

"Your roommate's doing well for himself, Tristan," observed Sam looking into the main room from the open French doors.

"Well, it's second nature."

"She's R.R.'s sister and she is pretty wild herself. Had to move out the sorority after some trouble and her daddy just got her a nice apartment in University Heights--you know, just near the polo fields. Her boyfriend was a player until he was--what do you say in Britain?"

"Sent down?"

"Yeah, sent down for drugs and making porn videos."

They watched Colton telling jokes to R.R's sister and her friends.

"He's fuckin' gorgeous. How do you stand living with him?"

"Cold showers," lied Tristan.

"I suppose he's hung."

"I wouldn't know."

Sam looked at Tristan in disbelief. This was one lie too many.

"Well, I admit I've had a peek. You see, I was wondering why the water wasn't going down the drain in the shower." Sam laughed.

They danced, the alcohol taking its effect, and finally Sam said, "Want to come back to my place?"

"Why, Mr Rice, what kind of girl do you take me for?"

"Pegged you as a slut the moment I saw you."

"Well, that's okay then. Let me say goodbye to the guys."

This took a while and by then Colton could not be found and Leesha said that he'd just left a moment before but she had forgot to tell him. "You were too busy making out with your blue-eyed frat boy."

Tristan tried not to blush. He then found Carlos and bluntly admitted that he was going back to Sam's place. Carlos said, "Way to go, gay dude! But be careful, man."

Sam had not brought his car and Tristan said he thought he was okay to drive, perhaps taking a calculated risk in view of the possibilities the trip held.

It was about two miles out to Rocky Creek. The apartment was very swish for this town and was on the ground floor (or `first floor' as Sam described it) and it was set in moodily illuminated gardens with a tennis court and swimming pool. It abutted a fairway, which was black and silent at this hour.

Sam was quite suave, pouring them both drinks and, in a fluid movement, kissing Tristan and pushing him down on the couch. Tristan felt quite relaxed and happily submitted to having his clothing removed. "No underwear?"

"My roommate's rule."

"Y'got a sexy body, Tris."

Tristan wanted to say that he thought he was too skinny, but thought it best not to raise this possible flaw. Sam kissed down his chest in the approved fashion. Before he could go all the way, Tristan took over and pushed him down and pulled off Sam's clothes in an untidy route. "Nice cock."

"I thought I'd wear my best one tonight."

Tristan appreciated the joke and laughed.

They sucked each other, at one point performing a sixty-nine. They each came and gasped that it `was good'. Then Tristan found himself in bed.

The next thing Tristan knew was that his phone was ringing. He sat up groggily and fumbled for it. It was nearly out of power. Sam sat up and started to say something sharp. "Sorry," began Tristan as he looked and saw it was Colton. He put the phone to his ear and listened.

"Fuck!' he listened some more. "Fuck! Don't say anything." There was a long pause. "Are you all right?...Yeah, I suppose you are. I'll call Dad." There was obviously relief on the other end of the wire. "Of course, you don't even have to ask it." The call ended. Sam was on his knees listening and looking alarmed. Tristan was now shaking and Sam held him steady with outstretched arms.

"It's Colton. He's been arrested and he's in the cells at the police station."

"What's he done? Was it Minor in Possession?"

Tristan looked at Sam as if he was stupid. "He's been accused of raping a girl--Madison Rusk."

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah, holy shit indeed. Can I use your phone to call my dad?"

Sam fished from his the pocket of his pants, which were on the floor of the living room. Tristan used his own phone to get the number and then dialled on Sam's. There was a wait.

"Dad, its Tristan...no, my phone's dead and I'm using a friend's. He looked at Sam and mouthed thanks'. "Yeah, I know it's early. Listen, Colt's in trouble. He'd been arrested on a charge of rape. And Dad, it's a senator's daughter....Yeah I know...of course not, you know what he's like. Please Dad, can you get a solicitor...oh, all right, an attorney' or whatever, get him down here. Colton can't raise bail...no, I don't think he's told his parents, it's just happened."

A few more words were exchanged and Tristan, with brimming eyes, hung up. When he looked around Sam was gone. He could here noise in the kitchen. "You need some coffee, man, and this." It was a Pop Tart, which Tristan hated but realised he might not eat for some time and was grateful.

"D'ya want me to drive, buddy?"

"No thanks, Sam, I'll be all right. What sort of man is the Senator?" he asked as he hurriedly sipped the coffee while trying to pull on his tee shirt.

"Republican. Pretty conservative but probably honest. His kids are cunts."

"Rich and spoilt?"

"Yeah like us, but can't handle it," said Sam with some humour.

"Thanks for last night. I enjoyed myself. I'm sorry to end it this way."

"Yeah, so am I. Y'hot, Tris, but y'carryin' a torch for someone else, aren't y'all?" Tristan didn't answer. "Let me know what happens." Sam picked up Tristan's phone and added his contact. Then handed him his car keys.

"Pants?"

"Oh yeah," said Tristan and came back from the front door and pulled on the necessary garment.

The Police Station was off campus near the big Walmart and on the banks of Mosquito Creek, the bourn that ran past his new house and then into the University itself. Tristan thought it odd how it linked these parts of his life, but suspected that his mind must be going. He trembled inside.

He wasn't allowed to see the prisoner.

"Please, I've got news about his attorney coming. He's asked for one, so it's only right that he be allowed to know."

The officer must have been vulnerable to Tristan's distress, so he was allowed to see Colton, the officer accompanying him, presumably so that Tristan did not slip the prisoner a file in a birthday cake.

There was Colton, sitting in a cell that looked like those in films.

"Hullo, Tris."

Tristan could barely get the words out and wanted to cry, but he choked out a greeting.

"Officer Collins is a football fan and he's bein' real nice to me. No beating out a confession with a telephone book."

"Don't have no telephone books now," said the officer.

Tristan was feeling confused so he tried to focus. "Dad is sending a lawyer, but it'll be lunchtime before he's here, I imagine."

Tristan noticed Colton was wearing different clothes. "You've changed."

"What? Oh my clothes," Colton looking down as if he'd never seen them before. "They arrested me in the dorm. I was in bed. I mean I was alone in bed."

"That's true," said Collins. "Naked as a jaybird and we let him find his clothes."

"This girl, Madison Rusk, you know she's the daughter of Senator Rusk."

"Shit no? I didn't even know her name until they charged me here. Who is she?"

"You mean you don't know?" Colton shook his head. "She was the girl you were dancing with--you know. Her brother was the drunk arsehole."

"It's all a mystery to me. It all must be some kinda silly mistake."

"You'd best be goin' now, son," said the policeman. "Also y'all gave him good advice about sayin' nothin' and so don't go makin' him say somethin' he might regret."

Tristan nodded and reluctantly turned to leave. "Oh, whom can I tell?"

"Not m'folks. Not at this stage. I'll leave it t'you. I suppose y'all told y'date?"

"'fraid so." Colton just nodded neutrally and Tristan left.

When Tristan returned to Charles C. Selecman House, it was clear that some titbits of news had already leaked out. To strangers, Tristan replied that he didn't know where Colton was. However, he went across the hall and told Parker and Hollis what had happened.

"Shit, I can't believe that! Colton's the sweetest guy," said Parker, with feeling.

"What can y'all remember about the night?" asked Hollis who was sitting cross-legged on his bed. Tristan was impressed with his sensible approach.

"Well," said Tristan trying to concentrate. "I went to Tau Alpha Mu by myself, but Alex and Carlos were there--and Leesh. I picked up a frat brother--Sam..."

"Ya learnin' 'bout college life now!" said Parker with glee.

"Shut up, dumbass!" snapped Hollis.

"...and I was with him most of the night. Things got pretty rough--those frat guys are rich pricks--Sam's not like that though and he lives off campus. He's in the frat just 'cause his dad was. That girl's brother was the worst and she was pretty coked-up too, I think. Anyway, I saw Colt dancing with her a bit--after he got there. He was late."

"What time did he get there?" asked Hollis, thinking he's better play detective.

"About 11:00. He'd been working with Dr Baddeley at the clinic."

"Till 11:00?"

"Well no, he would have come back here to get ready--he had on his party outfit, but not the Stetson. And, oh, he rode his bike but the tyre went flat and he had to walk it."

"Did you see him with this girl?" asked Hollis.

"Yeah, he danced with her and maybe he went for grabs. She was pretty handsy too."

"His DNA might be on her."

Nobody knew.

"I didn't see him leave--but Leesha and Carlos did. I don't even know if he left with this girl."

"What time was that?"

"1:30. I know, because I looked at my phone and saw it was nearly dead. And then I went to Sam's place out in Rocky Creek." He blushed.

"Where does this chick live?"

"I believe she was kicked out of her sorority and lives in University Heights," he said pointing in the general direction.

"Look, all Colton's got to do is find someone who can give him an alibi. When did this alleged rape happen?"

Tristan didn't know and they spent the next little while sifting the possibilities, as there was no other productive course of action that they could think of at this point.

At 1:00 Tristan received a call on his cell phone. It was Mr Sleigh, the solicitor, and he wanted to see Tristan at the police station.

Tristan hurried over, throwing down his pen and leaving his homework incomplete.

Mr Sleigh was a big man in a dark suit--even on a Sunday afternoon. He seemed to be pretty smart--the kind of whom they say has a mind like `a steel trap'. Tristan had had no doubt that his father would send someone good.

"We've applied for bail for Mr Stone and we're just waiting for a hearing," he said briskly, shaking Tristan's hand. Mr Isley, can you tell me what you know?"

The talk with Holly and Parker had helped Tristan give Mr Sleigh a thorough account, minus the usual superfluities. He didn't even blush at his own sexual escapades. Mr Sleigh was particularly interested in the drug taking and kept asking if others could testify to the truth of his observations. Tristan volunteered T. Samuel Rice's name and Mr Sleigh made a note of it.

He went over the times again and again until Tristan felt exhausted. "And why was Mr Stone so late to the party?"

"He rode his bike and had a flat tire."

"He was riding a bicycle? Mr Stone omitted to tell me that detail, it could be important."

"Why, isn't it in the police reports?" Mr Sleigh shook his head.

"What about DNA tests? Colt never has unprotected sex with girls, you know. He is a health ambassador."

"Is that so? Doesn't prove he didn't this time--which is what is being alleged. Still waiting for the results. The problem is, Mr Isley, that Mr Stone cannot give an account of where he was between 2:00 and 2:30 when the allege rape took place in Miss Rusk's condominium. She has no witnesses but neither does Mr Stone."

"How do we know she was raped?"

"She was assessed by the policewoman who came when her brother called the police and then a campus doctor was called. She had cuts and bruising that might be consistent with being assaulted--quite violently. She's still in the hospital and the detectives are waiting to interview her properly."

"Why was her brother there? He lives in the frat house where the party was, I thought."

"He says she called him. We'll check the records, of course--they might help confirm the time."

"What else can we do?"

"We might be able to attack her character, but judges and juries don't like that. Perhaps you could persuade Mr Stone to be more forthcoming. Now these people who saw him leave, can I speak to them?"

"I haven't seen them. Could you come back to our dorm and I'll try to find them?"

They drove the short distance. "There's his bike," said Tristan, stopping at the rack outside the front door. The bike was locked, but the front tyre was flat and the machine would have been un-rideable. "I gave it to him for his birthday," said Tristan forlornly. Mr Sleigh did not comment, except to say that he would inform the police who might want to dust it for prints.

They sat in a secluded corner of the Common Room. Leesha responded to a text and came in with Hollis and Parker. She was able to confirm that Colt left the party at 1:50.

"I see," said Mr Sleigh making a note.

"The girl says she was raped between two and half-past," said Tristan.

"They could have walked the distance in that time between the frat house and the apartment, even with a bike with a flat tire," observed Mr Sleigh coldly.

"Or he could have left it and then returned to the party and retrieved it," said Hollis, unhelpfully. "Maybe he was following her."

"Miss Rusk stated that he came with her," said Mr Sleigh referring to his notes.

"And no one saw the two of them and the bike?" asked Tristan.

"It's very early days, Mr Isley. The detectives were asking for witnesses this morning.

"There is CCTV at the front door here--if it's working. That might tell us when came back here with his bike and if he was alone," said Tristan. He told Mr Sleigh to ask Doule who it was that had the tapes.

"I never saw his bike when I left the frat," Tristan went on. "Of course, I only have his word that he had actually brought it and that the tyre was flat," admitted Tristan. "But why would he lie about that? Of course, he could have hidden it either when he came or when he left--for whatever reason."

Suddenly there was a commotion and Alexinia and Carlos burst into the room.

"We saw him!" cried Alexinia. "Sorry, we just learnt 'bout it. We were in Sunset and then took-in a movie."

"What did you see, Miss?"

"We saw Colton Stone walkin' with his bike out 'long Earl Lubbock Parkway."

There was not quite a gasp in the room, but Tristan thought there should have been.

"He was just comin' out of a fillin' station as we were pullin' in--the one near Target-- and he was headin' south towards the Golf Course."

"What time was this? Now, this is an important detail."

"Two ten," said Alexinia with confidence. Carlos nodded too.

"Well, the filling station will have video. Would it be possible to walk to or from there to University Heights in twenty minutes?"

"No way," interjected Parker. Colt might be able to run it, but not walking--and not pushing a bike with a flat."

"Would you be prepared to make a statement to the detectives?"

Alexinia, Carlos and Leesha all agreed willingly and the solicitor took down their particulars.

"I think I need to go back to the police before this gets out of hand. Besides, the bail hearing is a four o'clock."

"I want to come," said Tristan.

"I'd rather you stayed here, Mr Isley. You might be able to find other people who saw Mr Stone or Miss Rusk. You could try compiling a list of people who were at the party, that would be a great help."

After the solicitor departed, the unhappy Tristan and the others put their heads together, although Tristan felt too numb to function properly.

"A question that bothers me," said Parker, "is what was Colt doing out on Earl Lubbock at that time of night?"

"He was at the filling station," said Alexinia, "so maybe he was trying to pump up his tire."

"It's still flat, so maybe it was too shredded to just fill with air," suggested Tristan.

"Doesn't he have a pump on his bike?" asked Hollis.

"Go check, Holly, it's in the rack--but don't touch it as the police might want to dust it."

"I think he was worried about you, Tris," said Carlos. "He was heading out to Sam Rice's, I think."

"You mean he thought Sam the frat boy might beat me up?"

"Well, you saw what those guys at Tau Alpha Mu were like, man."

"That would be so typical of Colt," said Leesha."

"Well, I've got a question," said Tristan. "Why was Rockwell Rusk at his sister's?"

"She called him after she was raped," said Leesha.

"Why would she call him and not the police or an ambulance? She must have known how fucked-up he was."

"Well, I want to know what Senator Rusk will do," said Hollis who had come back into the room, "Ain't no pump and the tire is pretty fucked, I reckon."

"I want to go and phone Dad," said Tristan. He got up and headed towards his room. Alexinia followed him. "I was great that you noticed Colt on the highway, Alex," said Tristan.

"Yeah, an' I can tell you one thing: he weren't agoin' to make sure y'all was safe from no frat boy." Tristan looked at her questioningly. "He was followin' y'all because he were jealous, y'dumb fuck. That boy loves you! Now don't you go denyin' it, gay boy. Alex see'd how he looked at you when y'all was getting it on with that dude. He asked some other dude where Sam lived--all casual like, but I heard him."

"Well that's got nothing to do with the trouble Colt's in right now and I'd appreciate it if you kept that speculation to yourself."

"Hah! Don't worry, I will. Carlos' theory will be good 'nuff for them what don't see."

At the police station Colton was the sole occupant of the cell. The light burned the whole time and Colton found that he couldn't sleep. He was still stunned from his early morning arrest and confused by the strange turn of events. He kept going over matters in his mind, looking for some fault in his own actions. He regretted his decision to leave the party early and even more so for dancing with Madison Rusk and, worse still, for kissing her and slipping his tongue in. But these, of themselves, were not grave offenses in the usual course of things.

Officer Collins had come in several times when business was quiet and talked about college football. He had said, on the quiet, that the two detectives, Flynn and Gonsalves, where under the pump from Senator Rusk and President Barlow--each pressing for a speedy but differing result. Colton didn't know what to make of this. He wondered how Tristan was bearing up and suddenly felt his eyes moisten.

He longed to see Mr Sleigh, whom he had pegged as his saviour and thought he was overdue for his bail hearing, but they had taken his watch and phone and he couldn't quite tell. Suddenly Officer Collins appeared. He was smiling. "I'm glad I'm still on duty, Colton, your lawyer is here and I think it might be good news."

A moment later Mr Sleigh appeared in the cellblock corridor. "Come along Mr Stone, you're free."

Colton looked around for what to take with him, but realised he had nothing. Officer Collins had opened the door. Colton bustled out. "I've made bail?" asked Colton as he strove to keep up with the brisk pace of Mr Sleigh.

"No."

Colton was puzzled

"No. There've been developments. You are no longer under arrest."

"Shit! What happened?"

"I'll tell you when we're out of here."

There were tedious things to sign and declare. Colton received his wallet, keys, watch and phone back. "Can I call Tristan?"

"Just text him. I want to be sure of a few things first."

They sat in Mr Sleigh's Audi and the lawyer tried to explain. "I put some information to the detectives which seems to clear your involvement in the rape. It will have to be formerly investigated, of course."

"So she was raped?"

"Yes, that seems certain. The tests prove it. She was raped and beaten in her apartment."

"But it couldn't be my DNA?"

"Because you always wear a condom?"

"No--well yes--but because I didn't do it. I was never there."

"No, and you were of no help in establishing where you were. It was only a piece of luck that two people saw you on Earl Lubbock Parkway at the critical time. Why wouldn't you tell us that?"

Colton was silent for some minutes, then he began quietly, "I didn't want Tristan to know I was spying on him. He's...he's kinda special, you know and..."

"I think I understand. Mr Stone--Colton--what would happen to Tristan if you went to prison for a long sentence?"

"Yeah, I know, it's complicated. And I'm the starting quarterback."

"Well, on that, it was good that the boy at the filling station recognised you."

"Oh yeah. I had to go in and ask for the air pump thing--you know, they take them off so folks won't steal them."

"But your tire was too far gone?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Tristan suggested it. You were spotted by two of your other friends--a couple who had been to the party and for some reason--and I won't venture why--went driving in the same direction you were walking with your bike and stopped at the same filling station."

"You mean Alexinia an Carlos?" He nodded.

"But that girl--Madison Rusk--who raped her and why did she say it was me?"

"The detectives are working on that, but I can tell you there have been serious developments. The Rusks will not want these to get out." The there was a pregnant pause.

"Oh my fuckin' God! It was her asshole brother, `R.R.'. Her own brother raped her and that's why he was there so quickly! And they tried to blame me!"

There was a shocked silence for a minute. "My name has been dragged through the mud and I could loose my scholarship and my football career."

"You could and you might like to consider an action against them, but..."

"But, I'd be fighting Senator Rusk?"

"He'd fight hard, Colton, and probably dirty. Is your own private life able to stand up to intense scrutiny?"

"Whose the fuck is?" lamented Colton, suddenly feeling that his adolescence had abruptly ended.

"Whose indeed?"

"And the poor bitch was really raped--and by her own piece-of-shit brother."

"It is noble of you to think of her at this time."

"Well, I work at a clinic for kids' health and sometimes..."

"Perhaps we'll keep this to ourselves."

"Yes, but I've got to tell Tristan and my parents--they've probably heard that I've been arrested by now and they deserve the full truth."

"Whatever you think."

He started the car and they began the short drive back to the campus. "Thank you, Mr Sleigh, you're a brilliant lawyer."

"Well, I only act for defendants and this was cleared up quickly, so I haven't made my usual fee." He was clearly making a feeble joke--his first, Colt thought.

"Tristan's father engaged you?"

"That's right."

"I will pay him back," said Colton wondering how many pairs of boxers he'd have to sell.

"You could ask for costs and damages, Mr Stone, I'd represent you."

"I'll have to think about it. Will you come in?" They had reached Charles C. Selecman House.

"No, I'd better get back to Dallas, but I'll be in touch. There's still lose ends. Good result, Mr Stone, and good luck."

Colton stood on the sidewalk, so glad to be free again, and the Audi had glided away into the traffic and in a moment was gone.

Please look for the next chapter. Henry would love to receive feedback and will endeavour to reply. Please email h.h.hilliard@hotmail.com and put Tristan in the subject line.