by L. B. Carter
“I’ll ask Kay about it later,” Liam said.
“Keep me updated. So I know if I need to go give a statement,” Nor clarified for himself mostly. He needed to get back on track. “Anyway, this wasn’t what I wanted to ask you. Did you ever know a chemistry teacher, Mr. Richard Tate?”
“Yeah, I had chem with him last year. Why?”
“I heard he died in a car crash.”
“Who’d you hear that from? No, no car crash. He died at home.”
Damn. “How?”
“Carbon monoxide inhalation,” Liam winced, “from his car exhaust.”
“Suicide?” Nor breathed.
Double damn. Mr. Tate wasn’t their client. It would have been surprising if their contact had been a local high school teacher anyway; most clients were at universities or research institutions.
“Being a teacher for that many years can be hard. And his daughter was going off to university to be with his ex-wife. He was a single dad.”
Maybe it wasn’t a bust. “What university?”
Liam thought for a moment. He shook his head. “Sorry, can’t remember. Tilly might know.”
“Tilly?”
“My sister. Gossip queen. She knows everything about everything.”
Nor was talking to the wrong sibling. “Is she here?”
“Oooo expanding to an orgy already, cuddle-muffins?” Reed was back.
Liam scrunched up his face in disgust. “Just pushing him off onto someone else.”
Reed pursed his lips. “Was he not to your liking?” He leaned his elbows across the counter, one eyebrow quirked. “I can’t give refunds.”
Liam snorted. “It’s clear that he’s… new. I’m having to teach him a little of what’s what around here.”
Nor gave a long-suffering sigh.
Reed feigned horror. “Nor, Nor, Nor. Have I taught you nothing?”
“If you’ve been teaching him, it’s no wonder I’m having to give him pointers.”
“I’m sure your pointer will give him a mind-blowing epiphany.”
The girls next to them were now sneaking glances out of the corner of their eyes and tittering to each other.
“That’s it, I’m out,” Nor interrupted. “Thanks for the help, Liam.”
“Jealous?” Reed tsked. Nor clapped Liam on the shoulder and Reed cooed, ”Ooo, he’s getting touchy.”
Nor turned to leave before he could hear Liam’s response, feeling no guilt about ditching that dirty conversation. While his brother flexed his ability to slither into the gutter, he’d do some actual work.
He sat down, paying no heed to the discussion of his teammates about which school would be their biggest rivalry that season as he searched for a red-head. He remembered Tilly now, having introduced herself as Liam’s little sister and then blurting out that Sirena thought he was hot. She had promised to show him the ropes. Hopefully she didn’t use double entendres as frequently as her brother. A few minutes later, and even a slightly immoral trip past the women’s bathroom, peeking in while the door swung open, Nor conceded defeat for the night.
It was just as well, because right then one of the cheerleaders decided to use her table as a stage to perform some more of their strip-tease moves, snagging the attention of everyone in the diner.
Nor used the opportunity to sidle back to Reed, who was ogling the situation with as much interest as the students. He turned as though to watch disinterestedly. Barb was trying to coax the girl back to the floor by grabbing for her wrists to pull her off the table. With her short stature, that involved jumping to the immense amusement of JT’s table.
“Find her?” Reed asked through the side of his mouth.
“No go.”
With the aid of a spatula, Barb was now slapping the bare upper thigh of the dancing girl. So this was what retirement looked like. The sports teams started a chant: “Smack that ass!” Barb’s frizzy hair fell out around her face as she turned around to glare at the brothers as though she’d heard Reed’s laughter. Help me, she mouthed.
“That’s on you, big bro. I don’t work here.”
Nor received a passing, though not light, punch to the shoulder as Reed made his way across the floor. With his charm, Reed would have the girl trust-falling into his arms in no time.
Nor leaned his elbows on the counter behind him. If poor Mr. Tate had dealt with these kind of antics for however many years, he couldn’t really blame him for his choice. Never mind, that had to suck for his daughter. Liam said she was at university.
Nor stood up straight. Could that be the link between their client and this town? They needed to know more. Now, if Nor could just charm Tilly into pouring the information in his arms.
◆◆◆
“Hell, yes! I found our dead guy!”
Nor glanced up from his search. Reed’s eyes were fixed on the glowing screen on the small round table, oblivious to the sharp looks he was getting from several nearby customers. “Fantastic, but must you announce it to the world?” Nor hissed through his teeth.
“Hmm?” Reed pulled his eyes from the laptop and noticed the affronted looks. “Nosey, podunk townies.” Reed scowled around him and raised his voice. “What? Never seen a writer doing research for his next murder mystery book before? Carry on.”
A few ladies looked even more offended by his abrasive tone and brash comments than they were about his original necromaniac-seeming proclamation. They disgustedly turned back to their expensive lattes, and inane conversations–now probably revolving around complaints about the two boys making a ruckus.
Nor lost interest in keeping the peace when he scooted his chair closer and caught sight of the source of Reed’s triumph. He craned to see the article at the same time as his brother, who was hunched over, nose almost smearing the screen.
“The obituary for one Richard Tate, who died in April of this year, just like Tom remembered. Gotta love that in a shitty town the size of a fucking nut, the local paper’s obituaries are easy to sift through. We need to bring Tom into this century. He’s probably still hunting through all the rest of this newspaper’s boring-ass issues.”
“Can you not get us kicked out or given a coffee shower, please?” Nor chided, glancing around.
“Whiny,” Reed grumbled half-heartedly, his attention on what he was reading. “Okay, blah blah blah... ‘He leaves behind one daughter, high school senior Jennifer Tate, one of the select few attending Boston Technical Institute in the fall.’” Reed whistled. “BTI? Smart girl. Guess it pays to have a daddy in academia.”
“Academia is pushing it.” Reed pointed at the shortest paragraph, only a sentence long. “‘The deceased was, until his untimely passing, a beloved chemistry teacher at the high school for almost twenty-one years.’ Jesus Christ, twenty-one years? That’s for-fucking-ever. Can you imagine dealing with shitty teenagers who don’t give a fuck about what you’re trying to teach them for that long? I’d definitely snap after maybe one year, two tops, and just peace the fuck out in the middle of class.”
“Well, rest assured, you’d never be hired to be a teacher,” Nor responded, derisively.
“Hey, I’m the joker here. Couldn’t pay me enough to take that job, anyway,” Reed condescended. “Didn’t Liam say the mother was a professor too? Hmm.” Reed scrolled. “Not mentioned.”
“That’s all it says?”
“That’s all it says.” He looked over at his brother.
“Maybe there’s something about Jennifer in there that gives the mom’s name?” Nor shifted back to let Reed type ‘Tate’ into the newspaper’s search bar.
“Got her,” Reed announced, before Nor finished adding the town name to his search. “She’s got her own article almost ten years back.” Nor’s chair squeaked on the cement floor as he shifted back to his brother’s side. “It’s a short article in the announcements section, titled, ‘Local woman wins prestigious award for scientific research.’ I take it back, it seems their daughter’s pretty much required to be a smarty-pants
with those genes.”
He read aloud, “‘Dr Katheryn Tate, 38, of Mayport, is this year’s recipient of the Atmospheric and Climate Science Association’s (ACSA) William S. Fitz Award of Excellence, given annually to a researcher whose contributions advance the field of paleoclimatology.’” He spared a glance at Nor, who was thinking the same thing; this was looking more and more connected. “‘A recently tenured professor in BTI University’s Department of Earth and Atmospheric Science, Tate’s work focuses on modeling Earth’s past climate.’ Never mind, Jennifer got into BTI because of her mom, not her smarts. I bet she gets free tuition, too.” Reed’s tone conveyed distaste, and Nor refrained from pointing out that their own positions were acquired via legacy.
“Focus.” Nor pointed at the screen.
Reed continued, “‘In a recent issue of the Journal of Climate Change released this year and reported by many news stations around the country, Tate along with several anthropologists, historians and geologists published the results of a collaborative investigation, which gives a brief glimpse into what the Earth looked like during the Medieval Warm Period, around 1000 AD and what that means for the future of climate change. The ACSA cites this effort as the latest in Tate’s extensive publication history of invaluable and unprecedented scientific progress and consider her stellar teaching reviews in addition to volunteer outreach the embodiment of the qualifications of the perfect recipient for the award.’”
Nor sat back and frowned. “That line: ‘reported by many news stations around the country.’ That sounds like kind of a big deal. Shouldn’t that have popped up in our search for the obit?”
Reed shrugged. “Maybe she’s got a pen name?”
Nor shook his head. “Scientists don’t use pen names. That’s fiction authors, you idiot.”
“Well, what’s your explanation, oh genius one?” Reed retorted.
This would be much easier if Nor could just talk to Tilly: she was an open book. Instead of answering, Nor pulled his laptop onto his thighs, almost spilling their abandoned coffee cups.
“Watch it,” Reed’s hand shot out to steady the mugs before the liquid killed his electronics.
Nor didn’t answer, an idea forming thanks to their own mother. He typed in: Katheryn AND Richard Tate. Finally, the results of the search loaded. “Ha!” Nor shouted.
“Shhhh,” some lady scolded from the table next to them, giving a pointed look at the baby sleeping in the carrier at her feet.
“Sorry,” Nor apologized quickly, his eyes flying across the screen.
“What? What did you find?” Reed was equal parts excited and impatient.
“I was right. She changed her name when she married. ‘Pamela and Stanley Powell, of Balefort, are pleased to announce the engagement of their eldest daughter, Katheryn Powell, to Richard Tate, son of John and the late Andrea Tate, of Upton.’ This one’s from a newspaper in a different state about nine years before the one you found. They must’ve moved here together.”
“So? She married eight or nine years before the paleoclimate paper was published.”
Nor shook his head as he searched: Katheryn Powell. “That wouldn’t matter if she continued to publish under her maiden name, as she’d been doing before she married.”
“Like Mother.” Reed shook his head in awe. “Should’ve thought of that. Maybe you are genius enough for BTI.”
Nor didn’t reply. “Bingo.” Links to news reports and a number of scientific articles popped up, as well as one to the BTI atmospheric department. Nor clicked that one. Photographs depicted faculty looking as nerdy and academic as one might expect, though with a variety of landscapes behind them from mountains to rocks to a few white office walls. He ignored them all until he saw the name Professor Katheryn Powell.
The photograph showed a dirty-blond with thick bangs that ended just above brown eyes magnified by wire-rimmed glasses. She smiled gently at the camera, calm but sure of herself in a professional button-up, sitting behind a massive desk that supported at least three computer monitors, surrounded by ordered disorder in a cluttered office, definitely looking uncannily like she headed some world-domination headquarters.
“There, click on her personal webpage.” Reed’s finger blocked Nor’s view as he pointed.
He shoved Reed’s hand aside so he could see and moved the mouse where indicated. A larger picture appeared on the top of the page, this one of Katheryn wearing sunglasses, her hair pulled into a messy knot on her head, and a furry headband covered her bangs and forehead, making her appear electrocuted. An excessively padded orange parka and snowpants covered her frame, such that her body appeared disproportionately large compared to her head. She stood on a vast ice sheet, which glittered in the sun, grinning despite the cold clearly pinking her cheeks. Nor took in the rest of the page, confirming, as the article had said, an extensive list of publications, a slightly shorter record of courses taught including current available courses, showing clearly she was still employed at BTI, and a brief description of her in-progress research. There was nothing personal on the page, just an email and an office phone number.
“Well.” Reed was stumped. “The field seems relevant. But she’s alive and he’s dead.” He slouched as well as he could in the iron chair meant to give the seated the aura of a Parisian cafe rather than comfort.
“So we contact Katheryn.”
Reed stared off into space or maybe at the young barista at the counter. “What story we gonna use?”
Nor shrugged. “Journalists. I mean clearly, she’s done a few interviews already.” He gestured to the open laptop, knocking one of the coffee mugs again.
Reed lurched forward and grabbed it, before settling back with it in hand. “That was years ago though.”
Nor shrugged again. “Review article? We can ask her about that publication and then say we need some personal information to beef up our article.”
“Oh yeah. ‘Do you mind telling us about your ex-husband’s suicide? Our readers will want to know the grizzly details in addition to your astounding breakthrough on dinosaur weather. Incidentally, do you know about this other guy who died in a car accident driving through your old hometown with a lady he didn’t know?’ That’ll go just great.” He absent-mindedly took a sip from the cold cup and made a face, returning it hastily to the table.
“Okay, Mr. Sarcasm. Well, you’re in charge of getting information from her, because I’m going to try to talk to Jennifer.”
“What?” Reed jolted upright, appalled. “Why do you get the young chick and I have to interview the nerd mom?”
“Duh, because I go to the same high school she did.” Nor grinned at his brother. “Hey, she’s a single mom, remember?”
Reed scoffed and shifted in his chair, shooting an envious look in the direction of the couches, which had unsurprisingly already been taken when they’d wandered into the shop late on a Saturday morning after talking to Barb and Tom about what they knew. “This would be way easier if we could just get the police reports. I don’t like how much time we’re stuck in this podunk town.”
Nor raised a brow. “Well, that was your job, remember? And you—”
“Nor?” A new voice piped up behind them and they both jumped. At least Nor wasn’t the only one unaware of his surroundings. Kayna stood there, a little boy on one hip, another next to her, his hand gripped tightly in hers as he yearned to wander off. They looked a couple years old. Nor looked back at Kayna, no older than eighteen, and felt his opinion of the town start to waver toward his brother’s.
“I thought it was you! Hi, Reed. How are you? Are you doing homework on a Saturday?” She glanced in disbelief at the screen, which Reed was quick to shut, concealing their subject of interest from prying eyes.
“Just trying to help my dumbass brother here learn to use his peanut brain,” he said with a grin and Nor scowled.
Kayna giggled. “I just stopped in for some much-needed caffeine before taking the rugrats to the beach for a bit. Maybe that’ll help them g
et some energy out.” She aimed the last few words like bullets at the struggling child pulling on her arm. He was trying to pry her fingers off his wrist. Their dark ringlets and skin tone said they mostly inherited their mother’s looks, assuming Liam was indeed the father and there wasn’t a triangle to this love story.
Kayna cocked her head, her eyes flipping back and forth between them, and hiked the kid squirming to get down further up her hip. “You guys spending the day here?”
Nor shook his head. “We were just finishing up. So if you need help...?” He let the offer hang. Reed kicked him under the table. Sure, it was off-topic and counted as ‘mingling’ with the locals, but she looked stressed, her curls going every which way. Where was Liam?
“No, I’ll be okay. Once they’re running around, they’re more manageable, and it’s only a few more hours until my mom gets off shift and can take them back. Thanks, anyway.” At least her mom was supporting her.
“Crap,” she groaned, tossing her head back in distress. Having finally managed to slip his little hand through her fingers, one rugrat took off toward the door. “Can you...?” She held the other one out to Nor, her eyes tracking the escapee as he detoured around tables, moving pretty fast for a short-legged toddler.
“Sure,” Nor took the kid under the arms.
At the same time Reed said, “I got him,” and took long strides to catch the little head now approaching the door.
“Thank you!” Kayna called after Reed, gratefully.
Thankfully, the door was too heavy for the little boy to successfully shove open. Nor and Kayna watched as it opened a few inches, through which he tried to squeeze his skull. Reed swooped in and scooped him up, tossing him into the air while u-turning to head back to the table. The kid giggled and clutched at Reed’s neck, enjoying his new high vantage point perched in the crook of one arm.
“Never mind, I can take him back. Your brother’s fast.” Kayna reached out to the other kid, whose brown eyes were staring into Nor’s with fascination, one set of fingers shoved in his mouth, drool cascading around his fist. Nor stared back. He didn’t really have much experience with kids besides holding a bottle upended in an infant’s mouth when Mother’s office neighbor had to run to the lab to check something. The barista called Kayna’s name.