Gracie Greene Mystery Box Set

by Jack Parker

  All those years Bill had paid child support. He'd done the right thing because he'd wanted to, but because of it he hadn't had a lot of money for his own family. It had to have been part of why his wife had left him. Now suddenly Bill finds out the baby wasn't his after all? Of course he'd be angry! He probably felt betrayed by the girlfriend who'd cheated on him, and who'd never admitted the truth during all these years. Think how hurt he'd feel to know his best friend had done such a thing, and didn't seem to care.

  "Oh my God!" Gracie said out loud. "Did Bill kill Dad out of anger and revenge?" She stood up and began pacing around the room, trying to put the pieces together. The bicycle tracks stood out right away, but there was precious little else. Bike tracks alone didn't prove anything. Bill had been in the lab all afternoon, someone would've seen him if he'd come out. Even if he'd managed to sneak out, how did he do it?

  She thought she'd figured out a motive, but maybe she'd gotten carried away. She didn't really remember what Jesse looked like, only a vague feeling that he'd reminded her of her brother. She'd been wrong about Cindy, she might not be right about this, either. Bill had left the party early and looking irritated; even if that's what the fight was about maybe he'd gone home and cooled off and she was making the rest up. With a dismissive shake of her head she went back to her room to finish her homework.

  CHAPTER 24

  As soon as school let out Monday afternoon Gracie headed for the bike rack. Shawna and Cheryl were going to the mall, and she knew she hadn't given them a very good excuse as to why she didn't want to join them. She didn't want to tell them the truth, because she might be wrong. She needed to see for herself whether it was possible for Bill to get out of the lab without being seen.

  Gracie rode to the college and locked her bike in the rack by the Chemistry Building. She didn't see Bill's bicycle, but that didn't mean he wasn't there. Since she'd filled his gas tank for him he was probably driving again. He could've used all the gas driving across town to the Bixby place, she thought. Bill knew that area pretty well, she couldn't guess whether he'd made a reconnaissance trip or not and it didn't matter.

  She walked up the steps to the building and went inside. Down the hallway, take a turn to the right, there was Rita's desk. Gracie wanted to ask Rita if she remembered Mr. Jesse Conover, but she wasn't at the desk. Gracie went past the desk and into the lab. This late in the afternoon it wasn't busy, but there were a few students working on some assignment.

  She walked in like she belonged there, made easier because she'd been there many times before and knew the layout. As she walked toward the back of the room she looked around to make sure her memory hadn't failed her. Nope, no other doors and the windows were all high in the wall, too high to climb out of easily. She headed for the storage room to her left.

  "Hey, can I help you with something?" one of the students asked.

  "No, thanks," Gracie replied. "I think I left something in here last week, just want to go check."

  "OK, but be careful in there. A lot of those chemicals are dangerous if you don't know how to handle them." He went back to his work, holding a test tube up to the light and squinting at its contents. Gracie chose to interpret his superior attitude to 'dumb freshman' rather than 'stupid girl'.

  She flipped the light switch outside the storage room as she walked through the doorway. A single naked bulb shed a dim light on rows of shelves filled with bottles and boxes. Some of them were actually marked with a skull and crossbones. She stayed well away from those.

  At the back of the room she saw what she was looking for. Between two shelves was an exit door, with a big red sticker at eye level declaring that an alarm would sound if the door were opened. Gracie walked a little closer until she could see there was a wire coming out of the doorframe, leading into an alarm box mounted high on the wall.

  She eyed the institutional-style horizontal push-bar, but was afraid to actually open the door. She didn't want to set the alarm off! She was disappointed. If the door were wired then Bill would've had to go out the front, and like Clarke had said surely someone would've seen him coming or going. She could feel her theory evaporating into so much mist. She turned to leave but her eye was caught by something on the floor.

  A couple of feet in front of the door was a cigarette butt, crinkled with the imprint of someone's athletic shoe. Nobody in their right mind would smoke in here, chemistry students especially would know how dangerous that would be. It looked like it had been tracked in from outside the door. Did students go out that door for a quick smoke between experiments?

  Gracie looked at the wire again, but even in the dim light she could see that it went all the way to the top of the box. Standing below the alarm she couldn't tell if the wire actually went into it. She looked around and spied an old ladder in one corner. She dragged it over to the door and climbed up until she could see the alarm box.

  The light was brighter up here, allowing her to clearly see that the loose end of the wire had been taped to the box, disabling the alarm. The top of the box was covered with a thick layer of undisturbed dust, so it had been done a long time ago. She climbed down and put the ladder back in place. That alarm hadn't worked for probably years, and she'd be willing to bet Bill knew all about it.

  She went back into the lab, holding up a tube of lip balm she'd pulled from her pocket and telling the student, "Found it!" He grunted some response but never looked up. Gracie walked out of the lab and was pleased to see Rita back at her station.

  "Hi, Rita!" she said.

  "Oh, hi, Gracie," Rita replied. "It's Monday, Bill's probably in his office, not in the lab."

  Since she still had the lip balm in her hand Gracie waved it and said, "Lost this last week, thought I'd see if I'd dropped it in there. I'm surprised it was still there, it'd rolled under one of the shelves in the storage room."

  Rita eyed her suspiciously. "Why are you really here? You weren't looking for a dollar sixty-nine tube of Chapstik."

  "I wanted to talk to Bill, and he wasn't in his office," Gracie told her. "Do you remember a couple weeks ago there was a young man looking for one of the professors, said his name was Jesse Conover?"

  Rita frowned in concentration, then shrugged. "Is that Bill's son? I thought his kids lived out of town these days."

  "I don't think so," Gracie said. "I just overheard him give his name and thought it was funny that it was 'Conover'. Was he looking for Bill?"

  "With all the kids who come through here everyday, I wouldn't have a clue what happened two weeks ago, Gracie. Why's it so important?" Rita asked.

  "It may not be," Gracie replied. "I may be putting two and two together and getting five. Thanks, anyway!"

  Rita raised an eyebrow at that, but merely said, "OK. See ya later."

  Gracie walked out of the building and started around the side. It took her a few minutes to get to the back side and locate the correct exit door. There were big maple trees screening the building back there, but she could see well-defined paths among them. She counted doors until she was pretty sure she knew which one belonged to the chemistry lab and walked up the dusty path to the door. It was too shady under the trees for grass to grow.

  She could see an old tin can filled with sand and butts, though apparently it wasn't emptied often as it was full and there were cigarette butts all over the ground around it. Gracie winced at the thought of all those filters that would take years to decay – or blow all over campus making an unsightly mess. A small rock had been pushed next to the door frame; the students obviously used it as a door-stop so they didn't get locked out as there was no handle on the outside. Gracie nodded to herself and turned to walk back.

  Just as she got to the sidewalk she heard a noise behind her. She turned to look and saw the chemistry student coming out the door. He pushed the rock with his foot, let the door swing shut against it, and lit up. No alarm sounded. Her theory had been confirmed!

  There was a parking area behind the building; it was for students, but th
e campus cops probably wouldn't ticket a car with a faculty sticker in the window. Bill could've easily gotten out of the lab that way with little chance of being seen, or at least of being recognized. But had he?

  * * * *

  Gracie swallowed nervously and knocked on the lab door. It was Tuesday afternoon after school, her usual time to visit Bill. She intended to have a very serious talk with him – if she didn't throw up first.

  "Hey, Bill, it's Gracie!"

  From inside the lab she heard Bill's voice, slightly muffled by the heavy door. "Gimme a second, kiddo. I'm in the middle of something delicate."

  She said "OK" and stood there a little uncertainly. She turned around to see if Rita had come back to the desk; she'd like for someone to know she was in here, but the desk was still empty. A minute later she heard the lock click and Bill opened the door.

  "Hi, Gracie. Come on in."

  "I didn't make you spoil something, did I?" she asked as they walked into the lab. She heard the door swing shut behind her and felt a little like she was trapped. More like committed to this course of action, she thought.

  Bill walked quickly back to the table he was occupying today and began stirring something in a beaker. "No, it's fine. But I need to stir this for a few minutes until it sets up. How've you been?"

  "A little tired," she said. "I haven't been sleeping really well."

  "You've had a lot to absorb," Bill said. "You're dealing with a lot of changes right now. I'm really sorry, Gracie."

  "You are?" she asked. The funny thing was, she really thought he was sorry for her sake.

  "I'm sure everyone's told you to give it some time, but they're right," he said. "Hey, quit pacing, you're making me nervous! If you're tired, come sit down."

  Gracie took a seat across from Bill, and carefully away from the array of glassware and instruments spread out across the table. "What is that you're making, anyway?"

  Bill laughed. "Maybe nothing. It's not doing what I think it should. Hey, will you bring me a bottle of hydrochloric acid? It's in the storeroom. Be careful, it's nasty stuff."

  Gracie stood up and walked quickly to the storage room. She came back a couple of minutes later at a more sedate pace, holding the bottle with both hands so she didn't drop it. She handed the bottle to Bill, then resumed her seat.

  "I want to ask you something, Bill," she said. "Something about Dad."

  Bill was staring at his notes but said, "Yeah?"

  She took a deep breath and began. "I overheard you and Dad talking at the party. You were in his office – I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but your voice was real loud."

  Bill glanced up at her, then looked at the beaker whose contents stubbornly remained liquid. "We had a little argument, no big deal."

  "I didn't hear a lot, but enough to know you were accusing Dad of sleeping with some young girl."

  Bill looked up at her and held her eyes with his gaze. "Gracie, I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but your father had a real weakness for pretty girls. He couldn't just flirt with them, he had to get them in bed. It bothered me that he treated them like dirt, threw them away so to speak after he'd gotten what he wanted from them."

  Gracie nodded. "I know Dad did some pretty bad things. The thing is, I've realized that it doesn't matter to me. He loved me, even if I didn't always see it. I wish he would've treated everyone a little better, but he's my father and I will always love him."

  "Always remember that, Gracie," he told her. "Your dad was a human being, just like the rest of us. We're none of us perfect. He did love you and your brothers very much. Don't think about his faults any more than you have to, it'll drive you crazy. I know I shouldn't have bothered trying to talk to him about the girl, it did no good."

  "Because you had no proof," Gracie said.

  "Proof? What are you talking about?"

  "I saw Jesse a couple weeks ago, Bill," she told him quietly. "He'd come by to see you, I heard him give Rita his name."

  Bill raised one eyebrow slightly, as if to urge her to continue because what she'd said hadn't made sense.

  "I didn't know he was looking for you, just some professor. At the time I thought it was funny because I was looking for Professor Conover – you – and here was a Jesse Conover looking for a professor. He looked familiar but I couldn't figure out why, I thought I must've just seen him around when I come up here."

  "Then I saw a picture of Clarke from the same angle and I realized that's who this guy had reminded me of," Gracie continued. "Here's a guy with your last name that looks like my brother's twin."

  Bill laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Look in the phone book, Gracie. There's a dozen Conovers in our city alone, none of 'em are related to me. It's not that unusual to see someone who looks like someone we know; people make money at it if they happen to look like a famous movie star."

  Gracie's jaw tightened with determination. "Guess I should tell you that Dad told me about your girlfriend in college, how she got pregnant and you had to pay child support for a son you never saw."

  Bill smiled a little ruefully. "It's no big secret. I'm a little surprised he'd tell you about it, though. It's a pretty serious story to tell a young lady. That doesn't mean some student asking for a teacher is my long-lost son."

  "So you don't see any connection?" she asked sternly. "A guy comes in saying he's your son and he looks just like your best friend? You suddenly realize you've spent years wishing you could know this son, and supporting him, and he never was your son? Did you tell Jesse it was all a big mistake too? I saw a picture of you and your girlfriend at a party; Dad was right, she sure was a pretty girl."

  Bill dropped his head into his hand, a look of pain on his face. He began speaking in a quiet voice but quickly, almost running the words together. Now that he could finally tell the story he needed to get it out.

  "Connie and I met the first week we were at school. We were perfect for each other, we liked the same things and had the same dreams. She was pretty, but it was her mind that I really loved about her. We were so happy together. At the end of our first year of college Connie went back to her parents' home out of state for the summer, saying she didn't want to leave and couldn't wait to see me again in the fall. Her folks were kind of strict, they didn't want us to move in together, and neither of us had much money so we really couldn't afford to anyway."

  Gracie nodded, but was afraid to say anything to interrupt him.

  "She sent me a letter saying she was pregnant. Her folks wanted me to sign support papers, and I did. I wanted to, it was the right thing to do. Connie didn't come back to school. She wrote another letter, told me she'd had a boy and named him Jesse. I didn't have the money to go see them, especially with having to pay support. Your father helped me get a part-time job so I could send her the money. I got a few more letters and a couple of pictures, but after a couple of years they tapered off and eventually stopped coming altogether."

  "After I graduated and got a job I wanted to go see them both. I wrote to Connie, and even called her parents' number, but never got an answer. Not from her, anyway. I did get a letter from a law firm directing me to send all future support payments to them and requesting that I cease trying to make contact. I assumed that Connie had married someone else and wanted to get on with her life, put this all behind her."

  "That must've really hurt," Gracie said.

  "Yes, it did," Bill replied. "But at the same time I could understand. I'd have liked to get to know my son, even if Connie didn't want me anymore. I blamed her parents for poisoning her against me because of the pregnancy, like it was all my fault. But time went on and I found someone else and had a family of my own. Except that teaching and research isn't exactly lucrative, and my prior obligation took money away from our kids. That was just one of several problems between us."

  "Don't get the idea that life was terrible for me. I get to see the kids, though not as often as I'd like. I love my job, and the research is rewarding, even if I haven't m
ade any big breakthroughs yet. I wasn't unhappy at all. But then one Friday a young man walks into my office saying he's my son Jesse - and he's the spitting image of Charles."

  Bill finally looked up at Gracie, his eyes pleading with her to understand. "He told me his mother had never married because she still loved me. She'd needed her parents' help with a baby to raise and they didn't want her to have anything to do with me. She'd written a lot of letters, but never once got one from me. After awhile she stopped writing, thinking I didn't care."

  "Jesse said his mother had been killed in a car crash, last year. She'd never even told him my name, but he found out from the lawyer. He wanted to meet me, he said he didn't expect us to be family after all this time, but maybe friends."

  "Bill, I am so sorry," Gracie said. "But I don't understand. You wrote to Connie, you just said you did."

  "Here's what must've happened," Bill said. "Connie's folks must've thrown away all my letters, and most of hers to me as well; easy to do if she just put them on the mailbox for the postman to take. They thought they were doing her a favor. I guess she took a walk and mailed the few I got without them knowing."

  "As Jesse grew up she saw the resemblance to Charles. He told me he'd wanted her from the first time I introduced them; he'd taken her home after a party; she was tipsy, he made advances but she told him 'no'. He kept it up and eventually got what he'd wanted. She never told me about it, Gracie. I think she was embarrassed. When she realized Jesse was Charles' child she didn't want me to know the truth, didn't want to hurt me. She didn't want me to think she'd cheated on me. She hadn't, not really. So she stopped writing and refused to tell Jesse anything about his father – either the legal one, or the blood one."

  "You told my Dad about it at the party," Gracie said. "He admitted sleeping with her, and then what?"

  "He bragged about it," Bill said. "He seemed to think it was funny that I'd had to pay in so many ways for something I never did. He didn't care. In fact, he acted like he'd gotten away with murder or something."