The One Who Watches

by Emerald O'Brien

  “You seem…are you in shock?”

  “No. I’m bored out of my mind in this room,” she took a long, raspy inhale, “and I’ve been focusing on my pain, but this—this gives me something to do. Maybe I can find the answers for myself too.”

  “Good…”

  “And of course… I’m scared, but if I missed something, I want to find it. That’s my job.”

  “Thank you.” Grace walked down the hall. “Melanie can get your files for you?”

  “She says yes.”

  “Okay, and go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”

  “Don’t worry about me. You find who’s doing this.”

  Grace ended the call and strode to the professor’s office, wishing Mac was by her side, but after hiding the fact that he’d accepted working apart, she didn’t want to talk to him.

  I have to calm down and focus.

  She knocked on the professor’s door, and he called, “Come in!”

  She opened the door and stepped in as Redding rose from behind his desk. “Detective Sheppard. I didn’t expect to see you. Did I miss a message?”

  “No, but I was driving by, hoping to catch you before you left for the day.”

  “Oh.” He rounded his desk and sat on the edge of it. “Here I am. How can I help?”

  I need to prove how much he cared for Donelle. I need a stronger motive. I need more evidence.

  “I was wondering if you had any papers, assignments, projects of Donelle’s from when you taught her?”

  “I might. I could check for you?”

  “That would be great.”

  “No problem. Anything she worked on? Could I ask why?”

  “You mentioned that her grades declined. Her father mentioned that too. I’d like to have the proof of when it started happening.”

  “Ah, yes, right when she became friends with Tyler and his gang. I understand.”

  He wants to put this on Tyler. Maybe enough to fabricate evidence.

  “Do you have anything that shows he was copying other classmates, specifically Williams and Gaines, like you said?”

  “That, I do. When a student brings you something that was plagiarized with proof, you keep it. I’ll include that in with Donelle’s work to give you.”

  So you do still have some of it.

  “I appreciate that. From the case files, I saw you told the detective you were here that day but didn’t stay long afterwards.”

  “That’s right.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Did you see Tyler and Donelle leave together?”

  “I did. They’d decided to buddy up to work on the project, and I tried to warn Donelle against it, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “You tried to warn her that day?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  “Well, just talking to her. I took her aside and told her she was better than that.”

  Like a father would.

  “You sound like a very supportive teacher. Do you think she had much support in her life besides you?”

  He shook his head. “I couldn’t get through to her, and I know her dad couldn’t either.”

  “Do you know each other?”

  “Oh, no. We only spoke at the memorial.” I’ll check into that. “He told me he tried with her, but I could tell even he didn’t realize her full potential.”

  “But you saw something in her.”

  He pressed his lips together and gave one firm nod before standing from the desk.

  Does he realize he’s taken it far enough, implicating a deeper connection? Keep him talking.

  “Did you know they remained at the college to study that night?”

  “No, I didn’t until after the fact.”

  “I see.”

  He stood and folded his arms. “Is there anything else?”

  He’s getting tired of the questions, or I’m getting too close for his comfort.

  He likes to teach. To guide. Maybe I’ll let him guide me to the conclusion he wants me to find.

  “In your opinion, Professor, what would have caused Donelle to decide to end her life?”

  He cleared his throat. “Well, the depression, of course. There’s that. There’s also the fact that while she was a smart young woman, it was more book smart. Not street smart. She was manipulated, yes, listening to the wrong people. Naive, if you will.” Grace nodded along. “Which leads me to believe she judged her worth by what others thought of her, and once Tyler and his crowd lost interest in her, she felt isolated. Pushed away the people who cared about her for the wrong kind of attention.”

  “That makes a lot of sense.”

  “Mhmm, and that kind of loneliness—that can make one feel like there’s no hope. Like the pain will last forever.” He stared off in a daze past Grace until she cleared her throat. “Anything else you want to know?”

  “No, but I appreciate your insight.”

  His eyes lit up. “Any time.”

  “I can come by and get those papers whenever they’re ready. Just let me know.”

  “I sure will.”

  She left his office and strode down the hallway toward the parking lot.

  He seemed angry earlier, but now he’s calm. Did he have time to think about it? Or did he prepare himself in case we spoke again?

  I need to find more about him before those papers are ready for me. It may be the last time we meet in a natural manner.

  She pushed through the doors and stopped before the parking lot, turning back toward the building.

  There, by those maple trees. I’ve seen them so many times before in the case files. That’s where Donelle died.

  She squinted up at the roof as dark clouds rolled overhead and a gust of wind whipped through her hair.

  And if Don’s right, and wasn’t hearing things or other people, she wasn’t alone up there.

  The cold air chilled her exposed skin, and she wrapped her arms over her chest and strode to her car.

  I have to see if Raven’s found anything about Donelle she may have missed.

  “I don’t think she made a mistake on that case,” Melanie said, turning away from the waiting room window toward Madigan. “She doesn’t finish with a body until she has examined every possible, notable part of it.”

  “I’m sure my sister didn’t mean it as an insult or to insinuate anything like that. If the girl may not have killed herself, they have to re-check every avenue.”

  Melanie shook her head. “She is meticulous about processing the body, and she’s taught me so much about it. If there were something to miss, she’d have found it by now, anyway. I’m going to check on her again.”

  “She’ll just tell you to be patient. Again.”

  “Then maybe I’ll get the nurse to tell her to rest. Again.” Melanie crossed her arms and turned back to the window.

  “Hey,” Grace whispered from the doorway.

  “Hi. You’re here. Raven’s been looking over her notes for over an hour now.”

  “I’m going in to see her.”

  “I’m coming.” Madigan stood.

  Melanie followed them to the door, past Malone. Grace nodded to him, and he nodded back.

  Raven sat upright, leaning back against a stack of pillows with oxygen tubes running to her nose and behind her ears. She looked up from her notes as they entered.

  “I’m sorry to ask you about this—” Grace started.

  “It’s fine.” Raven yawned and shook her head. “I couldn’t find anything I may have missed. Not from the photos, my notes, any past injuries, anything in her blood, nothing.”

  Melanie turned to Madigan with an I told you so look.

  Grace leaned in toward the files. “I appreciate you trying. The person doing this may have thought something was missed or overlooked, but it doesn’t mean that’s true.”

  “Well, there’s just one thing I can think of.”

  Melanie handed Raven a glass of water, and she gave her a smile.

  �
�I made certain notes that align with depression, which was the conclusion the detective reached on this case. Loss of weight, sleep deprivation, nail biting, and skin rashes. The thing is, those can all be symptoms of other things. Anxiety, for one. But also trauma. Depression is the conclusion the detective came to after considering all the factors at play, most of which I know nothing about.”

  “So, something could have happened before, something traumatic, be it to herself or by someone else?”

  Raven nodded. “If you can find out exactly when these changes in her started happening, you might be able to pinpoint when the trauma occurred, if that’s what it is.”

  “The problem is, everyone has a different story. Some would say it was when she met a certain group of people. Others said it was a while after that.”

  “Who was closest to her?” Madigan asked.

  Grace shook her head. “She detached from everyone. Before that happened, though, I’d say it was the certain group she was with. One person in particular. I appreciate your help. I’ve got to get back to work. Madigan, can I see you for a sec?” Grace waved goodbye to Raven and Melanie before they left the room.

  “How are you doing?” Grace asked as they passed Officer Malone.

  “Okay now that I know Raven and Jack will be okay. It just feels like there’ve been a lot of bad things happening, and I’m doing my best to find the good.”

  “Good.” Grace sighed. “I will, too, as soon as I solve this case.”

  “Get yourself something to eat on the way out,” Madigan said. “You need to look after yourself.”

  “Is that a nice way of saying I’m a mess right now?”

  “No.” Madigan cocked her head to the side. “Grace, is something else wrong? Is there something I don’t know about Raven?”

  “Ha. There’s something I don’t know. What’s going on with the case. I guess the other thing is about Mac, but it’s not important right now.”

  “We’ll talk after?” Madigan asked.

  Grace nodded as her phone rang, and she grabbed it from her pocket. “Thanks for being with Raven. Honestly, it’s good she has people looking out for her right now.”

  Madigan nodded as Grace answered, “Sheppard… I can? Great. Thanks. On my way.”

  “Who was that?”

  “I can finally question the man in custody. I’ve got to go to Amherst.” Grace walked backwards down the hall. “Stay with her.”

  Madigan nodded. “Drive safe.”

  As Grace turned the corner, Madigan stepped back into the room as Melanie put papers back into the folder for Raven, smiling at her as she spoke.

  I need to find out where Melanie was after the fire. Before the fire.

  I need to find out more about Melanie, and any motive she may have to hurt Raven.

  Forty

  Grace stepped into the private interrogation room at the Amherst P.D. Charles Gaines’ head hung low, staring at the table between them. He tilted his head up, and his eyes fixed on her.

  “I knew you’d come.”

  She closed the door and grabbed the back of the empty chair across from his. “Why is that?”

  “Because you’re the only one really looking into anything, and I thought if anyone had a chance of concluding that I’m innocent in those deaths, it would be you. No one else seems to care about the truth.”

  “Mr. Gaines, we found everything in your basement. The photos, articles—the lists.”

  “I did those things. I left Donnie’s personal items at each of their homes and vehicles. I left them the only possessions of Donelle’s I had left in hopes that they’d pick them up—pick the case back up—or tell me what was really going on. I left her dried rose from the roses I gave her at her high school graduation. I left the scrunchie her mother always put in her hair. Her perfume, because the smell of her made me too sad. Her backpack. Her lipstick. I was trying to make them take action. Right their wrongs. Do the very thing you’re doing. I was never trying to kill anyone. You know that by now, don’t you?”

  Colette is probably watching me right now. I need to use my time wisely.

  Grace pulled the chair out and sat. “I know you got into an altercation with Tyler Gibbons the evening he died.”

  “I’ve admitted to that! I’ve told them all, and I told you first. Yes, I think Tyler’s guilty, but I wanted him to confess. To come forward with what he knew or did. I wanted the detective and the M.E. and the security guard and the group she considered her friends to do the right, honest, decent thing to get to the bottom of what happened to my daughter. Everything got swept under the rug and would have stayed there.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, but now that Tyler’s dead, he can’t come forward. He can’t give any other information if he had any.”

  “And I’m not responsible for that.”

  “You crossed the names off the list of the people who were dead.”

  He shook his head. “That’s not why I crossed them off. I did that when I felt I’d done everything I could and hadn’t gotten anywhere.”

  “So, you spoke with the college security guard like you spoke with Tyler?”

  “Yes.”

  So he admits it.

  “What happened there? Another altercation?”

  “No. I could tell he did the best he could. He felt guilty. He listened to me, felt my rage, and cried. We cried together. He apologized to me for not doing better, but it really turns out, he was overworked, underpaid, and taking care of too big of a space for one person. I don’t blame him for what happened. I did, but I don’t anymore.”

  “But you know he died too. You had an article about it.”

  “I saw it in the paper and clipped it out. He was involved in what happened, and I guess I wanted to keep track of it. It was nothing more than that, but after I found out about Tyler’s death, I didn’t think it could be a coincidence.”

  He seems so forthcoming, I have to remember this is the man who was hiding everything. All his plans. His targets. He lied by omission.

  “So why didn’t you go to the police?”

  He smiled a sad smile and shook his head. “If you don’t understand me by now, you never will.”

  “You didn’t believe they’d do anything about it.”

  “One death happened in Tall Pines. The other here in Amherst. I didn’t have enough to go on, so I waited. I followed the medical examiner, and I was waiting. I knew if something happened to her, I’d have enough for someone to believe me.”

  “If it wasn’t you, who do you think did it?”

  He pursed his lips.

  “Who else would be after everyone on the case?”

  He shook his head.

  “Were you working with someone?”

  Redding.

  He stared down at the table, refusing to speak.

  He’s not trying to hide anything. He’s disappointed… in me. He doesn’t think I’m asking the right questions.

  “Mr. Gaines. Your daughter lived with you up until the day she died?”

  “Yes.”

  “Slept at your house every night?”

  “Well, I know she snuck out a few times and didn’t come home some mornings, but she lived with me. I saw her most days of the week.”

  He needs to prove to me he can see through his anger—look past his biases. If he can do that, I’ll consider other possibilities, too.

  “Before you answer this next question, I need you to stop and think about it.” He looked up at her. “Go back to that time and really think. When did you notice the biggest change in Donelle before her death?”

  Don’t say when she started hanging out with the wrong crowd.

  He opened his mouth, but Grace shot him a look, and he closed it, closing his eyes too.

  “I guess it was a week or two before,” he muttered.

  Same thing Mia said.

  “And why did you notice the change?”

  “She was sad,” he said, licking his lips and opening his eyes agai
n, “but she wasn’t depressed. Defeated, a little, but more secretive. It’s when she totally closed herself off from me and Karlie.”

  “Did anything else you noticed happen around this time?”

  “You know who she was hanging out with. Going to parties—”

  “Mr. Gaines, I’ve been told it was around that time she stopped hanging out with the group as much, and it was put down to the fact that you wouldn’t let her go out.”

  He shook his head and balled his fists. “I should have forbidden it, but I didn’t. No, I was the same as I’d always been. Hard on her, yes, but even though I made it clear that I never wanted her around those boys, I never stopped her from going out.”

  But that’s the impression Donelle gave to the group, or at least Mia. I need to talk to her again.

  “I didn’t know she wasn’t seeing them as much,” he continued, “and it’s something I think she would have told me, if only to ease my nerves and the tension between us…”

  “Was she still going out at night and staying out in those last two weeks before she died?”

  He frowned and shook his head. “No. Not as much. Maybe not at all. Just late at school a couple nights.”

  “Late at school with whom?”

  “By herself. That’s what she told me, and I believe her now, but I thought she was lying. I thought she was with those guys.”

  “Did she talk about her friends at all in those two weeks? Or any teachers? Anyone more than usual?”

  He shook his head. “We really weren’t talking as much.”

  She pushed her chair out and stood, staring down at him. “I’m going to look into this.”

  “You need to get me out of here. You know I didn’t do any of that.”

  Maybe someone pushed Donelle off the roof. Maybe they think someone knows, and they’re trying to cover their tracks.

  “I’m going to find the truth, Mr. Gaines, so if you’re on the right side of it, it’ll be okay, and if you’re not…” She turned to the camera in the corner and nodded.

  An officer opened the door, and she walked out.

  I need to go to Joel and Mia’s. Mia seemed to have become close with Donelle. Close enough that she might have confided in her. Especially if she felt like she had no one else.