Empty Promises

the frigid winds that swept across the hilltop campus did nothing to dampen the spirit of the season.
    Leigh Hayden knew that she would have to talk with John when she got home; there was no way he would not try to see her when they were both on Mercer Island. They had shared wonderful Christmases together, but those were in the past, and she would have to let him know that. He had to follow the same rules at home that he did when he came to the campus. They were not going steady anymore. As far as she was concerned, they were no longer even dating.
    For the time being, during this last week before the Christmas holidays began, Leigh decided not to worry about it. She didn’t think John would attempt to make the drive over the snow-clogged mountain passes, especially when he knew she’d be home on December 22.
    On Monday, December 17, John Stickney put in a full eight hours on his job, blasting rock out of a quarry with dynamite. His foreman and his co-workers didn’t notice that he behaved any differently than he always did. He didn’t seem upset or angry. He was just the same open-faced dependable kid they’d always known.
    When John left the job that night, it was already dark. He shouted that he’d see his co-workers the next morning. But John didn’t go home that night. He didn’t call Leigh either. Instead, he got in his car and headed east. Up through Issaquah and North Bend, then up over the summit of Snoqualmie Pass. It was icy at the top, with snow drifting across the road as he neared the summit. Even the skiers had given up for the night, and the lighted slopes were deserted.
    John Stickney had 300 miles to go. He had confided to a friend that he was going to talk to Leigh one more time and that this time it would be decided “one way or another.”
    His words were so cryptic and so unlike him that his friend was concerned. Just to be on the safe side, John’s friend called the head resident adviser in the dorm where Leigh lived. “John Stickney is on his way over there again. He said he’s going to see Leigh.”
    Later, there were rumors that the phone call included the warning that John had a gun. Except for the few times he had grabbed Leigh in frustration and pulled her into his car, he had never been a violent man. The warning that John Stickney was headed toward the Washington State campus was taken seriously, probably because the dorm adviser wanted to spare Leigh any embarrassment that John might cause her. Nobody was really worried that he would be violent. John’s demeanor with the staff at Perham Hall had always been courteous and quiet. When he showed up there, he only asked to see Leigh; he had never caused a scene.
    Leigh and her roommate were quietly moved to a room on the sixth floor of the dorm. If and when John actually showed up, he wouldn’t be able to find her.
    The night wore on. At 10:00 P.M. , the outer doors to the dorm were locked. Leigh and her roommate tried to fall asleep in the temporary room on the sixth floor. If John was really headed for Pullman, which was still only a rumor, he would probably check into a motel and call Leigh’s room from there.
    John Stickney was on his way. A little before 11:30 his car reached the top of the hill approaching Pullman. He could see the campus lights across the valley, twinkling on the next hill. He knew Leigh was there, snug and warm inside one of the red-brick buildings. He was sure that this time she wouldn’t be expecting him. She would really be surprised to see him this late on a weeknight. It was desperately important to him that this visit be a happy surprise.
    The campus police had been alerted that John might show up at Perham Hall. Officers on the night shift patrol were asked to keep an eye out for him. Somehow—and no one knows how—John Stickney managed to get into the locked dormitory at 11:30 P.M. Without hesitating, he headed for Leigh’s room on the fifth floor. He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again and waited. He couldn’t hear a radio or television or the girls’ voices. He opened the unlocked door, and found the room unoccupied.
    Where was she? She should have been there.
    John turned swiftly and walked down to Adviser Janet McKay’s room. She gasped when she opened her door. She wondered how he had managed to get into the Perham tower. Still, he was as polite and cordial as ever. He wore blue jeans and a parka, and he looked tired, but he didn’t appear manic or