L.I.F.E.

Prologue

The scene on the campus jogging trail couldn't have been more weather-friendly. Two freshmen were enjoying a run, calling to each other as they enjoyed the beautiful day off from classes.

I'm picking up the pace a little, Penney. Joel called as the gap on the trail widened between him and the pretty girl behind him.

Glancing ahead to gauge the distance, Penney gasped as a black clad figure with a gun or some sort of stunner emerged from the undergrowth near Joel. Her heart leaped at sight of the intruder. She stared, her mouth dry from fright and the exertion of running. Before she could cry a warning, she heard the sound of a branch cracking on the trail behind her.

She spun around in time to see another black clad figure, his arm raised.

Pure terror froze her.

The last rays of the setting sun glinted on the descending weapon in the attacker's hand.

The pain of the blow was intense but mercifully brief. Penney's knees buckled and she crumpled to the ground.

L.I.F.E. by Jackie Griffey

CHAPTER ONE

In their small off-campus apartment, Mike O'Neil sat at the small bar reading the morning paper as he drank his coffee.

Anything in there about Joel Carstairs? Marty, his younger brother by ten minutes inquired as he joined him. This is the second day he's been missing.

Mike didn't bother to answer.

Being older than me by ten minutes doesn't give you first grab at the paper, Marty reminded him.

Mike grinned. No, it's not being as lazy as you that does it. But no, there's nothing new. Maybe the reporters are in shock like everybody else.

No wonder. Marty's expression was grim. What a thing to have happen right here on campus where we've got security and you'd think we're safe. At least Penney Weldon is recovering from her head wound.

It will take longer for the mental damage to heal than the blow to the head. They were freshmen, couldn't have been more than nineteen. He shook his head. To be attacked like that is shock enough, but to wake up with a nasty head wound and your running partner missing is enough to give you nightmares the rest of your life.

The rest of your life or at least until they find Joel and get whoever did this.

Mike folded the paper and handed it to him. There doesn't seem to be anything in the want ads and temps available in here either. At least nothing worth investigating.

I'm not surprised. There are too many of us looking for part-time jobs. That's why the few things there are don't pay enough. Interns seem to be coming out of the wood-work at the hospitals, too. The charity work we do on Saturday is great for experience, but our cash flow is getting scary. Change that flow to cash trickle.

Mike nodded. Not to mention it's trickling in the wrong direction. Why don't we stop by the administration building and check the bulletin board? We haven't looked in a couple of days. Someone in lab said there's a picture of Joel Carstairs posted there.

* * *

Joel heard voices. He tried to move, open his eyes. He couldn't do either. He turned his head toward the voice he'd heard.

Hey, he's awake. Someone said. Joel made a noise, trying to talk. There was a sudden jarring pain to the back of his head.

What are you doing? You wanta kill him? An angry voice from his other side screeched. A harsher voice than the first one he'd heard. Joel sat still.

I gotta call now. Joel felt a jab in his mid section. You keep quiet. Joel obediently did keep still, hoping they would let him go when they found he had no money. He strained his ears, wondering where he was, if Penney was there too. The older voice was speaking.

Yeah. It's me. We got the package for you. Merchandise in good condition. Where you want it? There was silence, Joel strained to hear, his heart beating faster. He heard what sounded like a phone being slammed down. Nuts.

What's the matter? We going to get paid or not?

Yes. But we got to wait till he calls back. Got to wait for some kind of arrangements, he said.

Arrangements. The other voice repeated the word.

Soon as he calls back, we take him to the address he gives us. He takes it from there, we get our money, it's over. Oh, yeah -. Joel heard noises he couldn't identify. I got to give him one more of these.

Before Joel could wonder what 'one of these' might be, he felt a needle prick through his sweat shirt. There was silence as he passed out.

* * *

Mike and Marty's apartment was off campus but it was only a short walk to the administration building. Hunting through the posted notes they found nothing new in the way of work opportunities but the picture of Joel was there. The snapshot someone had printed from a PC or cell showed a boy and girl in jogging suits smiling for the camera.

Typical looking freshmen. They look more like high school seniors, don't they?

Uh-huh. Cute girl. Nice smile. Marty observed. I hope they find Joel soon.

Mike moved on to look at the other things tacked up in a hodge-podge of information and obvious tries at sales appeal. Let me see, he stroked his chin in imitation of one of their professors. What we need is a part-time job with full-time pay that won't interfere with classes.

Or our social lives. Marty added. As long as we're wishing we might as well go first class.

Right. Sometimes I have a hard time believing we've made it this close to graduating and still are able to eat and buy books. Two obnoxious orphans with no family to call on for help.

Marty paused, remembering their parents, Fen and Molly O'Neil. Well, we had family. They gave us more than money to get started. Good brains and perseverance, if I remember Mom's speech right. He grinned, And a brother to keep us humble. That was Fen's contribution he claimed, since his mother had a twin. Or was it an aunt?

I don't remember but I remember that part of the speech. Mike agreed as he pawed among the stacked up posts. He suddenly grabbed a piece of paper off the board. He straightened up and read it.

Hey! Look at this one. He held it up so Marty could see it. Good pay and benefits it says. I can't believe any part-time job would offer benefits. What do you think?'

Good pay is always an attention getter, but I don't know about the benefits part. Marty frowned and scratched his ear. It doesn't tell you much from what I can see from here. Just the date, September first, twenty sixty-three then an address to get applications and when to get them. He took it from Mike and turned it over. There's nothing about what the jobs are or who it is asking for applicants. Marty eyed the ad with a suspicion typical of their cautious natures.

What have we got to lose just by asking? People are not exactly knocking our door down with job offers. Got anything to write on?

Marty rummaged in his pockets. Here, use this sales slip. There's enough room to write the address. And if it's not what we need, we'll find something …..

Mike wrote, read the ad again before sticking it back on the board. This address, It's not a street address. It's that big hotel downtown. It gives a suite number. Mike shook his head, looking as doubtful as Marty had. No help in knowing what company is offering the jobs. You would think they'd want to use their company name."

Marty shrugged as they started walking out, heading for home. Must be a business with plenty of money. That hotel's a very high priced place. But then it may not be so expensive to use for a short term thing like giving out applications. He frowned. It makes me wonder if there may be some reason for not giving a name to let you know who they are. I don't like that. It's not a thing to inspire trust.

That sounds like my line doesn't it? I'm the one who seems to do the most worrying. Mike pointed out. The only thing I've noticed you worrying about is finding Ms Right. He laughed at Marty, seeing the effect that had.

Just because I'm not a chick magnet like you is no reason to rub it in. He squinted at his brother's suddenly back to sober face. Must be that serious professor look you're so good at.

"Oh, well. We're probably lucky I'm dark and you're red headed like mom's side of the family. Think of all the problems identical twins have.

Yeah, remember the Leewoods? They weren't just twins, there were three of them! They should put more warnings on fertility drugs. Like they used to on tobacco before it practically disappeared.

It didn't disappear, it just got so expensive it got to be successful from foreign trade and snob appeal. But that's something to worry about in hunting a life partner. Don't even consider any twins or triplets while you're searching for Ms Right, will you?

It's a promise. We've got troubles enough just finding work. But since you're giving advice, I'll thank you to hang onto Merry Meredith, if she doesn't get smart and dump you.

Wishful thinking on your part. Mike looked at the part-time work address again. No harm in checking this out, I guess.

Well, we're pretty big guys and that's a public place. If they lock the doors on us when we get in or something, I'm sure we can get out.

Right. Maybe they thought they'd be mobbed if they gave their name. We'll find out when we get there. He shrugged and put the note in his pocket as they neared their apartment door.

Since it's my turn to cook tonight, I'm going to fix us one of those quickie noodle meals. Inside, he added, Why don't you turn on the news?

Mike rattled around the miniature kitchen, hurrying as the news came on. Anything about the kidnapping?

Just a rehash. Marty turned up the volume.

The news reporter was again asking for help finding Joel Carstairs. He is approximately five feet ten inches tall. He has dark hair and brown eyes, slender build, and has no facial hair or visible distinguishing marks. He was last seen wearing a gray jogging suit with green sleeves. If you have seen him or have any information which will help locate him, please call the number at the bottom of the screen. The picture shown tonight is posted on web pages listed below.

Mike stuck his head out, still holding the pasta pan. I heard most of it and we've already seen the picture. Was there anything new about Joel Carstairs at all?

Either that or they're not sharing it with us. I still think it's strange they hit the girl on the head and took him. They could have just hit him on the head like they did Penney Weldon.

Maybe he was harder to get, probably put up a fight. Someone in one of my classes who knows Penney said she thinks Joel may have tried to protect her. They were dating.

Maybe that was the reason, then. He fought back, they got scared and grabbed him. You'd think as many people as there usually are around there someone would have seen something.

Mike thought uneasily about how often he and Marty had jogged on that same trail. He went back to give the noodles a stir.

Even if there'd been witnesses, they wouldn't have seen anything that would help. Penney's statement in the paper said the two that attacked them were about Joel's size, dressed in black, and their faces were covered by ski masks. Size alone won't be much help in finding them.

Having Joel's description all over the news and the net may help to get him back. Someone may have seen him.

Uh-huh. unless, He paused. Maybe they hit him too hard and hid his body somewhere if it was just a mugging. The police are talking to people but say they have no suspects, so he must not have had any enemies, someone wanting to hurt him. The ring they didn't take from Penney seems to rule out robbery, though.

Maybe it was a matter of timing and panic. Maybe they heard someone else coming and grabbed Joel to shut him up, to keep from being seen.

That's possible, couldn't have been long before those other joggers found Penney. She was just sitting up, looking woozy from the blow to her head.

Marty set the bowls out for the noodle mix. I'll get the milk, if that's ready?

It is Mike served and conversation lagged.

This is good.

Thanks. Being hungry helps.

Look and see when it is we're supposed to get the applications for that mysterious job with the anonymous company.

Mike stopped long enough to dig the note out of his pocket. The ad on the board said between nine and eleven o'clock in the morning or between two and four in the afternoon. On Friday, this coming one.

Friday is the only day?

That's it. The hotel, the suite number, the times on Friday. I guess the date is the date it was posted, September twenty-first. They finished their meal in silence.

I'll wash up later if you'd like to go jog a couple of laps. Unless they've got the whole area taped off, Marty offered hopefully.

Okay. Let's do it before it gets too late.

They changed in record time and hurried out. Nearing the jogging trail they didn't encounter any security and met several couples and groups of joggers. They saw a few of the couples and groups they knew from shared classes and others they'd seen before. Friends of friends were there. No one had shown up to run alone.

Lot more interest in jogging. Mike commented as they ran.

Curiosity I guess. Scene of the kidnapping, mugging, or whatever they're calling it.

If it's a mugging gone wrong, as you pointed out, all they'd have to do was hit Joel too and turn out his pockets if they were just after some fast money.

His suit probably didn't have pockets. And about the ring, maybe they were afraid someone would recognize the ring Penney had on. She could identify it, too.

Sounds to me like they made preparations then just goofed up. They were careful to cover themselves with ski masks and dark clothes and attacked them just at dusk. The only thing Penney was sure of was they, the one who hit her at least, was about the same size as Joel. They looked alike to her and their heads were covered. She couldn't see what they looked like, hair color or anything. He pointed to a stone bench. Let's sit down a minute.

I'll bet you're thinking the same thing I am, that it was students as broke as we are who did this looking for some fast money. That would account for their panic to get away. I hope it wasn't, but I can't help wondering.

It could be, I guess. Mike sat down with a sigh. If it was students, being young and inexperienced and obviously desperate, they'd have panicked if they'd heard those other joggers coming. The ones that found Penney.

He got up, looking at the deepening shadows. You go on home, I'm going to stop by the Delta House a few minutes to talk to Merry.

Don't be too long, Marty eyed the darkness beyond the tree line.

I won't. See you in a little while.

They jogged off in different directions.

CHAPTER TWO

Merry had been sitting on the porch and saw Mike coming. She went to the edge of the steps to meet him.

I've got the handsomer O'Neil. She stood watching him approach. Not that I don't like Marty. He's tall and cute, and he's fun to be with. Maybe some day he'll figure out how to make all that hair of his look like it's been combed.

Mike's heart swelled with pleasure and pride as he looked down at her. The night light on the porch picked out golden lights in Merry's summer blonde hair as she moved. Her blue eyes looked dark as she smiled and held out her arms for a hug.

I thought you'd forgot the way over here. Where have you been for the past two days?

I've been looking for a part-time job that pays full-time money. He returned her hug. And I'm not going to forget the way to any house that has you in it.

Lots of luck on the job hunt. There's an awful lot of people trying to find work.

She turned taking his hand and drew him with her to the glider on the porch. She touched his arm as they sat down. You're all warm, been jogging?

Marty and I came over for a few laps. I'm on my way home.

Maybe you and Marty should quit jogging for a while. At least until they find those two men who attacked that couple. Jan suggested solemnly.

You're a worrier too? Marty was worried about my stopping by here because it's dark.

Mike, he's right. Joel Carstairs is missing. Maybe they killed him. I can't think of any logical reason for them to take him with them. Can you?

You never can tell. According to the police they don't have any suspects. The only people saying anything are the reporters covering the story. They're just throwing out guesses because they don't have any facts, like maybe the attackers want to extort money from his family.

Merry shook her head. No, it couldn't be that or they'd have picked someone else. One of the girls who lives here knows the Carstairs family and there's no money to extort. Joel was working but not making much is what I heard. He was looking for the same kind of job you are.

Mike sat gazing out at the street light, her hand in his.

You might as well go on and say it, Mike. A lot of people I've heard talking about it are afraid they may have hit Joel too hard and killed him, then hid him somewhere.

If that's what happened, they'll find him soon. The fact that they haven't seems to be giving the family hope according to the one interview Marty and I saw.

Penney nodded. I saw his parents being interviewed on the news last night. It must be terrible not knowing. I feel so sorry for them.

Mike got up and pulled her up with him, his arms loosely encircling her waist. What I came by to tell you is to be careful, Merry.

Really, Mike. Penney objected at once.

Just listen a minute, will you? Find someone to go to class with and stay with a group. And don't go out at all after dark. Call me if you want to go to the library or anywhere at all.

That's been arranged since the first newscast. All of us here in the house talked about escorting each other and we've got our safety measures planned. You can mark that off your worry list. We talked about night trips to the library too, but I'll call you if you want me to.

I do. His arms tightened and he kissed her lightly. I just need to know you're safe.

I know. And I'll call you. I promise.

I've got to go back before Marty panics.

And take care of yourself, too. Merry smiled up at him. It works both ways, you know.

Mike's answer was a long kiss and he stepped back as if he didn't want to, still holding one of her hands. He kissed it and took a deep breath, I'll call you tomorrow.

Merry stood watching him from the door as he passed under the street light, jogging home.

* * *

Captain Brock of the Ellis Arbor, Michigan Police Department looked down at the corpse that lay before him. Hard years of experience on the police force kept his emotions from showing on his face as he watched the necessary activity. The male body was nude, white, and young.

The streetlight at the mouth of the alley, the lights from the patrol cars, and the photographer's flash bulbs were more than adequate to show him that much. But years of experience had not dulled the pain of seeing a young life so brutally cut short. The boy appeared to be in his late teens.

A heavyset man with graying hair knelt beside the body. The letters on the back of his windbreaker spelled out Coroner.

On its side, he commented. Almost in a fetal position except for the position of the arm and leg on the upper side.

Yeah. One of the patrolmen agreed, peering down. Dumped out of a car no doubt, and up to us to figure out who he was and how he got here.

The coroner turned the body slightly as they watched. He turned the body onto its back, the arm falling beside it.

God! What a mess. Brock exclaimed. His insides churned as he turned away.

His whole front's cut open! A rookie yelped. He took off running to lose his coffee and doughnuts farther up the alley.

Brock felt his nerves twang all the way down to his fingernails but he stayed put.

That's as good a description as any, the doctor from the coroner's office said. His whole front's cut open all right. There was tape in a couple of places for some unknown reason, but it didn't hold.

By the time someone stuck some tape on it, it didn't make any difference to him from the way it looks, was Brock's comment.

The doctor shrugged. Could have been worse, he hasn't been here long. He turned to the two assistants who had come with him. Get him up when they've photographed everything and bag him. I've done all I can do here.

Looks like we've got ourselves a slasher doesn't it? someone said.

Slashers don't bother with tape. Not the ones I've heard about.

This could be that college freshman. Brock observed quietly to the Sergeant beside him.

The one they thought was kidnapped? Could be. This corpse doesn't look like hard work or bad company.

I'll call and get some information on the missing freshman, get someone out there to make an identification. Brock turned to leave.

* * *

Mike was still in the shower and Marty, clad in slacks, padded around barefooted trying to find a shirt that suited him. He found one and pulled it on as Mike came out of the shower with a towel around him, drying his hair with another.

Hey, you're way ahead of me. Nice shirt, he eyed it. Guess I'll have to wear something else. If you'd take better care of your clothes, you wouldn't always be hunting mine.

Despite the search for what to wear they made it out the door in plenty of time to get to the Savoy Hotel.

You've still got the street address and the suite number, haven't you? Marty asked nervously.

For someone not particularly interested, you worry a lot. But I've got it. The suite number is six-one-one, Mike told him.

When they got off the elevator in the Savoy Hotel, the vast hall was deserted and the elegance was awe inspiring.

Makes you feel like you've got to whisper, doesn't it? Marty whispered as they admired the expensive carpet and furnishings which included real flowers in expensive looking vases.

Yes it does - and there it is. Mike pointed to a brass arrow and numbers on the wall near the ceiling. They paused a second before Marty reached out to open one of the double doors of suite six-one-one.

They looked in, curiously. The place seemed huge and silent. It had been set up for a banquet later on and the six people in the room were gathered at one side. A man in a dark suit saw them and came to meet them. He held out his hand, looking both of them over as he walked. He looked friendly and encouraging, his smile making them feel more at ease.

I'm Jesse Crane. Have you come about the part-time positions?

Both nodded and Mike answered. Yes, as both of them shook hands.

First, Crane said. Let me tell you, if you have any objections to working a month long probationary period; have any objections to working with cadavers; or have problems with the secrecy of the project; or our checking your backgrounds; this may not be your cup of tea. Crane watched their reactions closely as he made his speech.

Mike and Marty hesitated, exchanging a quick glance at each other. Marty gave an imperceptible nod and Mike answered for them.

No. No objections to any of those things.

Crane's smile broadened. Come and join the group. He led the way. Have a seat in this first row of chairs, please. He looked at his watch. We'll wait a few minutes before we get started. He told the group. Mike and Marty looked around at the other five applicants as they sat down. They smiled, politely distant, each applicant seemingly wrapped up in his own thoughts.

No one spoke for about five minutes which seemed like much longer. Crane looked at his watch again. He glanced back at the closed door as he rose and cleared his throat to speak to the group.

I've asked you several questions as you came in. But there are more questions, many more, to be covered before we can assess your potential future with our company. Crane reached for a stack of printed material on the table beside him. There are two hundred questions here. They will not give you any information about the jobs, but they will give us a clear picture of whether or not you would be compatible with our needs and expectations.

Marty could hear small noises: soft whispers and people stirring; looking around; shifting uncomfortably; looking everywhere except at each other. He stole a glance at Mike. His brother was was apparently unmoved and completely expressionless.

Unflappable. Marty thought with admiration and a little envy.

Crane passed out the questions, gave each of them a pen, and continued his speech. "There is no time limit. This is not