Page 14 of Wild Tempest

“How about you look for him?”

His face tightened. “He in some kind of trouble?”

“No. Go find him,” I said in a voice that was not to be challenged.

He disappeared and rousted Wes out of bed. He met us at the door, looking bleary-eyed with tousled hair. Academics weren’t Wesley’s first priority here at Vanden.

“What’s this about?” he asked with concern.

“Man, I’m telling you, don’t talk to them,” his buddy cautioned, standing nearby.

“You’re not in any trouble,” I assured. “We just need to know what you saw on Whistler Cay the other night.”

Wesley’s brow knitted. “Did those kooky bitches make some kind of complaint?”

“Someone was murdered on the island. We’re looking for witnesses.”

Wesley’s eyes rounded with surprise. “Murdered?”

“Did you see anything unusual when you were out there?”

He shrugged and thought about it for a second. I saw a bunch of hot-ass naked chicks dancing around a bonfire. I mean, that’s kind of unusual.”

“Anyone else?”

Wesley shook his head. “Just that fucking dickhead that pulled a gun on me.”

“Draven.”

“Yeah, whatever his name is. I’ve seen him around campus before. You should look into him.” Then he added, “I bet he's not so tough without that gun.”

“You see anyone else suspicious?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“The documentary crew was alive when you left?”

“Documentary crew? Is that what the guys with the camera were doing?”

I nodded.

"Are you going to arrest Draven? I mean, you can't just wave guns around at people, can you?"

"Trust me, we’re going to pick him up."

I took a full statement from him, and JD recorded the interaction on his phone. Wesley repeated his story. Nothing changed. With the video and his affidavit, we had enough to get a warrant.

I dug into my pocket and handed him a card. "Get in touch if you remember anything else."

JD and I left fraternity row and headed back to the station. We had a warrant in no time and put together a tactical team.

We returned to the university. With assistance from campus police, we took down Draven as he came out of his PolySci class in Abernathy Hall.

With a bunch of students swarming the hallway, we didn’t go in guns blazing.

Draven stepped out of class with a backpack over his shoulder. His eyes rounded when he saw us.

“Draven Ashcroft, you’re under arrest for aggravated assault,” I said. “Put your hands behind your back.”