Page 22 of The Catcher (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #5)
A s darkness draped over the neighborhood like a cloak, engines rumbled through the streets as cars pulled up one after another. Dozens of teenagers from nearby high schools flooded into a fall party, drawn by the promise of one last hurrah as the school year geared up.
For some, it marked the advent of a season of socializing, a final chance to revel in youthful freedom before the responsibilities of adulthood loomed large. Others, especially the high school football team, saw it as the dawn of a season ripe with the potential for glory on the gridiron.
“Sick party!!! Be there!” exclaimed Colt Banning, a sophomore quarterback from High Peaks. His message reverberated across social media platforms as he made his entrance.
Inside the house, the music blared at ear-splitting levels, drowning out any attempt at conversation. Bodies writhed on the dance floor, lost in the pulsating rhythm, while others mingled in clusters, their voices barely audible above the din.
Despite the grim shadow of Pete Landry’s death, the teenagers showed no signs of slowing down. Some claimed the party was a tribute to his memory, but it was simply another excuse to indulge in reckless revelry.
Colt, his breath strong with the scent of alcohol, draped his arm around Mischa Redka, his words slurring as he leaned in. “Come on sugar, give us a kiss,” he murmured, his drunken bravado failing to charm her.
“Shit! Get lost. You reek of puke. How much have you had to drink?” Mischa retorted.
“The party’s been going on for hours,” Colt shot back with a shrug, oblivious to her disdain.
“Addison, let’s get out of here,” Mischa suggested, her patience wearing thin.
“Where are you going? The party’s just getting started. Come on, we’re doing this for Pete,” Colt protested, but they paid him no heed as they exited.
Surveying the sea of bodies before him, Colt’s gaze landed on Abby, a girl he deemed passable in his inebriated state. “Hey, Abby! You wanna…” he began, his intentions clear despite his slurred speech.
Abby, caught up in the throes of the party atmosphere, approached with a suggestive smile, her eyes alight with anticipation. Colt saw an opportunity for another conquest, another tale to regale his friends with.
But as Abby asked for a cigarette, Colt’s interest waned, his disappointment evident. “No, I don’t smoke,” he replied.
“Boring!” Abby scoffed before turning away, leaving Colt seething with frustration.
“Bitch!” he muttered under his breath, his ego bruised but his determination undeterred.
She gave him the bird, signaling her agreement with Colt’s sentiment. The quality of potential hook-ups declined with each passing year. Across the room, one of Colt’s pals gave him a thumbs-down and chuckled. Colt made his way over to Tyler, eager to share his failed attempt at flirting.
“Tyler, my man. What gives!? I was just hitting up one of the ladies. Trying to get some digits,” Colt exclaimed with a grin.
“Sure you were. Was it this one?” Tyler retorted, sticking up his middle finger in jest.
Colt laughed and slumped down beside him. “Mischa’s acting like a real princess tonight.”
“Probably on the rag,” Tyler joked, handing Colt a beer can. “To Pete.”
“To Pete,” they both echoed solemnly.
“Damn straight! If I ever get my hands on that asshole who took him out, I swear…”
“I hear you, brother. Rumor has it that little dweeb Nicholas is behind it,” Tyler added, his voice laced with anger.
“Here’s what I think. We pay this asshole a little visit. Get him to confess,” Colt suggested.
“What do you think, guys?” Tyler asked, extending his beer out in a silent toast.
Another three guys eagerly shoved their cans toward him. “Hell, yeah!”
One by one, they rose from their seats, ready to take action. Colt hesitated for a moment, then spoke up. “Hey, uh, I need to take a piss. I’ll be back in a second,” he said, excusing himself from the group.
“Meet you out front,” Tyler replied, giving him a nod of acknowledgment.
Colt stumbled toward the downstairs bathroom, his mind already racing with thoughts of revenge, only to find the door locked, thwarting his plans momentarily.
“Fuck it,” Colt muttered under his breath before elbowing his way through the crowded kitchen and out the side door.
A couple of teens were loitering outside, drinking and chatting.
Ignoring them, he crossed through some bushes, hopped over a low fence, and approached a nearby closed business.
Leaning against the wall, he unzipped his pants and relieved himself.
Colt rocked his head back with a sigh of relief. “Ahhhhh.”
He hadn’t been there for but a minute when he heard footsteps approaching. Glancing over his shoulder, he squinted as a light shone directly into his face .
“Hey. That’s a bit bright. Tyler?” Colt called out, shielding his eyes with one hand.
The flashlight lowered, and Colt’s vision took a moment to adjust. As the figure came into focus, his expression turned to one of annoyance.
“Can’t you see I’m taking a piss here? What do you want?” he demanded.