by Diane Weiner
Coralee sunk onto the bed. “You’re right. But why was it in his closet?”
“I think you need to visit the jail and ask him,” said Henry.
“I was able to meet his bail. He’ll be coming home tomorrow.”
Emily hugged her. “That’s great news.”
Clearing his throat, Henry said, “Meanwhile, can a guy get something to eat around here?”
“I’m sorry, Henry.”
“Coralee, I was just trying to lighten the mood,” said Henry. “Take time to compose yourself. Our table should be ready, and I saw more than one server down there.”
The foursome entered the dining room, which had cleared out a bit. Susan was glad to see Coralee could afford to keep on help as well as meet Noah’s bail. Emily said she’d probably had to take out a second mortgage in order to do so.
“I’m having prime rib, fried onions, and crème brulee,” said Mike. He smiled at Susan. “Just kidding. Baked chicken breast, broccoli, and steamed rice.”
The girls ordered pasta Bolognese, while Henry enjoyed a filet mignon. After dinner, they drove to St. Edwards where the arts fair was in full swing. The student union building was set up with rows of tables displaying artwork, poems, short stories, and musical compositions. In one corner, a renaissance group played madrigals on original instruments. The theater department ran a series of one-act plays in the auditorium, and a string quartet played Mozart sonatas in the lobby.
“This is incredible,” said Susan. “The quartet sounds great.”
“And look at these paintings,” said Mike.
They strolled through the aisles, admiring the student work. Sarah Kimberly, who was reading a short story at one of the tables, looked up when she saw Emily.
“Some great work here, Sarah. Didn’t you submit some poems too?”
“I did. They’re on the next table.” Sarah fidgeted and opened her mouth to speak twice, seeming to change her mind before words came out.
“Are you okay, Sarah?” Emily asked. “You look like you want to tell me something.”
“It’s… It’s just… Can I come by your office tomorrow? I need to talk to you about something confidential.”
“Of course. Stop by after my morning class.”
After Sarah walked away, Emily said, “I wonder what that’s about?”
“I guess you’ll find out tomorrow,” replied Susan.
Several of Emily’s colleagues and students stopped to chat and meet Susan and Mike. Joe Sommers passed them as they were leaving.
“What a wonderful feast of talent,” said Joe. “Several of my students have work displayed.”
“I love the music,” said Susan. “Those authentic renaissance instruments are a bear to play.”
“Joe, we have a copy of Ashley Young’s transcript from the semester she went missing.” Emily pulled the paper from her purse. “Do you know any of these professors?”
Joe looked at the list. “I know Dr. Johnson from the math department. She and I were on a committee together.”
“How about the three men? One was an English professor. He was in our department.”
“I vaguely remember him. He had some problems. Drinking I think. He took a leave part way through the year if I remember correctly.”
“What about Ashley Young? Did you know her?”
“No, not personally. Of course, everyone knew her name. The case was high profile, but you know that. Took some time to die down. I guess your book will be bringing it to the forefront once again. Have you found any new evidence?”
“Nah. Not yet.”
Susan respected the fact that Emily kept the information about the scarf to herself. She knew that rumors fly fast and furious, especially in a small town.
“Emily, I left something in my office. Can I borrow my spare key from you?” Joe asked.
Emily took it off her key chain. “It was a good idea giving each other copies. This isn’t the first time we’ve needed them.”
“I’ll give it back tomorrow. Have a good evening.”
When they got back to the house, Emily made coffee while the others got comfortable in the living room. Henry turned on the late news.
“Oh my God,” said Henry. “Look. Emily, come in here.” He turned up the volume. “They found a grave. It’s right behind Peewee Miniatures.”
“Did they find a skeleton? Is it Ashley Young?” Susan stepped closer to the screen and adjusted her bifocals.
“They say it’s empty,” said Mike.
“No, look. They found something.” Susan pointed to the screen. The camera went to a close-up. Henry turned the volume higher. “It’s a tassel. From a ski hat.”
Emily said, “Not just a tassel. A red tassel.”
“Red. Like the scarf in Noah’s closet,” said Susan.
Chapter 25
The next morning, Susan sat in the back of the classroom and watched her friend teach. She had to admit that as much as she had loved teaching, she was happy to no longer have the responsibility it entailed. Getting acclimated to the retirement lifestyle had taken a little time, but she was grateful she now had control over her own schedule, more time to spend with her family, and time to enjoy her favorite pastime—solving mysteries. The puzzle of crime solving kept her brain young in the way they said yoga would keep her body young. She wasn’t convinced about the yoga, given it was taking her longer and longer to get out of cushioned, low-to-the-ground furniture.
At the end of class, Emily asked some of the students to stay. She had a list of the three professors from Ashley’s transcript and showed it to them.
“This professor is no longer here, but do any of you know these two?”
One girl jumped in. “I had Dr. Mathers for two different courses. He’s great. Everyone loves him.”
Another girl said, “I had him too. Very professional, very organized.”
“Did he ever mingle with his students after class?”
“No, he had office hours, but other than that he didn’t hang around campus much.”
“Thanks, girls. Do you know this one? Dr. Smith?”
“No, never had him.” Both girls shook their heads, gathered their backpacks, and left.
Susan said, “Sounds like Dr. Mathers wasn’t the type we’re looking for, but we should run by and talk to him. Dr. Smith too.”
Emily led the way. Dr. Mathers was in the next building. He had just finished teaching a class when they found his office. He was an older gentleman, bald, Santa Claus stomach.
“Can I help you?”
“I work in the next building. I’ve seen you in the parking lot a few times.”
“Yes, you look familiar. Come into my office. Who’s your friend?”
“Susan Wiles. A dear friend visiting from New York. I teach here, but I’m also a writer. I’m working on a true crime book about the Ashley Young case and noticed she had been one of your students.”
“We all know the name, but I can’t say I can place her. The police asked me ten years ago, and I didn’t even know who she was back then. She was in one of my large lecture classes. Never came to my office as far as I can remember. Wish I could be more help.”
“It’s been a long time, and I know what you mean. I can’t place all my students with their faces either. Did you happen to know a professor named William Rowan? He taught in the English department.”
“We were on a committee together. Quiet man. Had health issues and wound up leaving midsemester.”
“Were there any rumors about him going after his female students or anything like that?”
“Heavens, no. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen here at St. Edwards. Maybe in some of those city schools like in New York or something but not here.”
“Thanks. I’ll be seeing you in the parking lot.” Both she and Dr. Mathers smiled.
Susan followed Emily outside. They walked across the campus to find Dr. Smith. Susan took one look at him and said, “That isn’t our guy. Handsome and too young even no
w to be referred to as a creepy old man. He probably had just started teaching. He doesn’t look forty yet.”
“You’re right. Let’s go by my office and check the ‘Rate My Professor’ database and see if there were any complaints filed on the other two.”
Joe Sommers walked in. “Whatcha doing? You’re usually gone by now.” He reached into his pocket. “Let me give you back my spare key before I forget.”
“Thanks. We’re checking into Ashley Young’s professors. The only one we don’t have info on is the one who left midway through the semester. Did you know William Rowan? He worked in this department.”
“Yeah, his office was where Martha’s was.”
“Did students ever complain about him harassing them or doing anything inappropriate?”
“As a matter of fact, I did hear some gossip from the students back then. He had an eye for the pretty ladies. He was thrown out for drinking on the job.”
“Do you know who took over for him and exactly when it was? It’s important for my book.”
“He was Ashley Young’s professor. I even saw him with her a few times from the window. One day they were arguing out in the parking lot. A real screaming match, not long before she died come to think of it.”
“Do you know where he went after he left?”
“I think he was going back to his hometown, somewhere in the Midwest. Hope it’s helpful.”
“Yes, thanks, Joe.”
After Joe left, Emily googled William Rowan. “No bad reports from students, no arrest record. Looks like he works out in Ann Arbor. Been there for eight years, so I suppose whatever problems he was having, he managed to overcome them.”
“Well, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t bothering Ashley Young. It’s more likely him than the other professors she had.”
“What time is Sarah coming by?”
Emily looked at her watch. “She should have been here by now.”
They waited almost an hour. Just as they were getting ready to leave, Emily’s office phone rang.
“Sarah, Where are you?”
“I… I won’t be coming in. It’s too dangerous. Sorry I made you wait.”
“Sarah. Sarah, where are you?” Emily hung up the phone. “She’s not coming. She says she’s afraid. She didn’t say where she is.”
“Afraid? Why don’t you call Coralee and see if she showed up for her last shift.”
“Better yet, let’s stop there on our way home.”
On their way out of the building, they passed Bridgette. Emily asked her if she’d seen Sarah.
“Yeah, I saw her about an hour ago. She was in the parking lot. Looked like she was in a hurry. She didn’t even respond when I said hello to her.”
“Has she been acting like herself lately, other than just now?”
“I’d say so. But I don’t really know. She’s a teacher. Status quo as far as I could tell.”
“Thanks, Bridgette.”
“If she was here an hour ago, she intended to talk to me. What spooked her, and why was she too afraid to talk to me?”
“Maybe it isn’t what. Maybe it’s who.”
Chapter 26
On the way home from the campus, Coralee called Emily and asked if she and Susan could stop by.
“Is she alright?” asked Susan.
“She sounds upset. She said she just picked up Noah from the jail.”
“I wonder if she asked him about the scarf. The red scarf, which is the same color as the tassel found in the abandoned grave.”
Emily pushed the customary speed limit, winding through the road to the inn. “I hope everything is okay.”
At the inn, Coralee brought them into the alcove where Noah was seated. He needed a shave but smelled as though he just came out of the shower. Emily gave him a hug.
Coralee said, “I asked Noah about the scarf. He says he found it in your barn!”
“In our barn?” said Emily. “When? And how is that possible?”
Noah said, “I was stealing jewelry and hiding it in the metal box in the horse stall in your barn. Just before I was caught, I walked in and saw the scarf on the ground near the ladder to the loft. It was mostly buried under the dirt, but I saw a bit of bright red and bent down to see what it was. I brushed off the dirt, and that’s when I realized it was Ashley’s scarf. At least I assumed it was, with her initials embroidered into it and all.”
Emily said, “Why didn’t you go right to the police? Why on earth did you hide it in your closet?”
“What was I supposed to say? I was hiding stolen jewelry and came across a scarf that belongs to a possible murder victim who has been missing for ten years? They would’ve thought I did it. I was already breaking the law by stealing.”
“You have to go to the police now,” said Emily.
“Mom already called them. I just hope it doesn’t land me right back in jail.”
Susan said, “Ashley’s car was found in the Anderson barn, which was recently bought by Peter Taglieri. An empty grave with a red tassel in it was found behind Taglieri’s makeshift office. Noah finds a red scarf in your barn. We don’t know how long it’s been there.”
“Henry’s parents used the barn when they lived here,” said Emily. “They would have noticed the scarf. It had to have been left there during the course of the past year. Noah, remember you had foot surgery right before Ashley went missing. You couldn’t have driven her car or dragged her to a grave. Medical records will confirm that.”
Detectives Wooster and O’Leary arrived. Noah brought the scarf down from his closet and handed it to them, explaining the circumstances under which he found it.
Detective Wooster said, “The wool and color look like the tassel we found. They are both equally ground with dirt. They certainly don’t look new.”
“So Ashley’s body was buried in a grave, then recently removed and hidden in our barn?” said Emily.
“We haven’t confirmed that it’s Ashley Young. We are waiting for DNA and blood results.”
“Come on,” said Susan. “Have you had any other murders here that are unsolved?”
Detective Wooster’s phone rang. “Excuse me.” He took the call in the next room.
Detective O’Leary said, “We have to have solid evidence before we can make a statement. We’ll know soon enough if it’s Ashley Young. Meanwhile, we’ll process the scarf.” She put the scarf into an evidence bag. “Mr. Saunders, we’ll need a sample of your DNA. For elimination purposes.”
“Sure, whatever I can do to help. I liked Ashley. I hope you find out what really happened to her.”
Detective Wooster came back into the alcove. His partner asked about the call.
“It was the lab. There were traces of blood on the tassel, and it’s the same type as Ashley Young.” He motioned to Detective O’Leary. “Let’s go,”
“Coralee, is Sarah Kimberly still working for you?” said Susan. In the commotion about the scarf, they’d forgotten to ask.
“It’s funny you mention her. She was supposed to work tonight but called in a little while ago to say she’s sick and won’t be in. It’s gonna leave me shorthanded, but then again, I have Noah back, at least for now.”
“Call me if you need anything,” said Emily. She and Susan headed home.
“I’m really getting worried. Sarah was upset and scared. She missed our appointment as well as her last shift at the inn. Something’s wrong. I feel it.”
They passed Kurt Olav walking with someone as they neared the house.
“Who’s that young girl he’s talking to?” asked Susan. Kurt and the mysterious girl were walking away from the road. Susan strained to see. “The girl is slim and has long blond hair. She looks like Sarah Kimberly from the back, doesn’t she?”
Emily, still driving the car, squinted. “It sure does.” She rolled down the window and called Kurt’s name, but he didn’t turn around. “Kurt!”
“He’s too far away. I’m sure he can’t hear you,” said Susan.
“Or
he doesn’t want to,” said Emily. “Why on earth would he be talking to Sarah Kimberly? I didn’t think they knew each other.”
Once inside, Emily explained to Henry and Mike how the scarf wound up in Noah’s closet.
Henry said, “How it wound up in his closet is one thing. How it wound up in our barn is the bigger mystery. Maybe we should give the barn a thorough going through.”
“I’m game,” said Mike. “Girls? Do I need to ask?”
“No, just let me change out of my work clothes. By the way, we saw Kurt walking with a young blond girl. Henry, have you ever seen him with anyone?”
“Never. The guy’s a hermit as far as I know. I think we’re his only friends.”
Henry grabbed a flashlight, and Susan grabbed a few baggies in case they found evidence. They went out to the barn, and Henry propped open the large doors on the side.
“We need to be methodical,” said Susan. “Up and down in a grid pattern. We should move the equipment and the stuff that’s in the stalls.”
The foursome went to work. Henry and Mike pulled out the equipment. Susan and Emily worked their way through the stalls. Susan was sweating in spite of the freezing temperature.
“I’d have hated to be a farmer,” said Susan. “I’m not cut out for physical labor.”
“And we’ve only covered half the barn. It’s starting to get dark out.”
Henry drove the tractor outside. When he came back in and inspected the area where it had been parked, he said, “Look! Where the tractor was. There’s a latch in the floor.” He brushed it with his gloved hand. “Hand me that broom.” He swept the dirt away and pulled up on the latch. He yanked hard on the handle. “It’s not moving.”
Emily knelt beside him and felt along the trapdoor. “Give me the shovel.” She chipped into the caked dirt and freed the door. “Voilà.”
All eyes stared down into the hole. Henry shone the flashlight. The opening wasn’t deep, maybe three feet and the width of two refrigerators. For a moment no one dared breathe. Henry gave the flashlight to Emily and ran his hand around the secret compartment. Mike handed him a shovel.