by Dianna Love
Jennifer noticed several people staring at the large flat-screen television on the far wall. They were watching her dad’s press conference to announce Catherine’s murder. A couple of waitresses tearfully hugged each other after hearing the news. The cafe owner, John Isaac, shook his head as if in disbelief.
Brianna returned a short time later with their drinks. Jennifer motioned for her to sit on the chair next to her. Visibly shaken, Brianna sank into her chair.
“I can’t believe she’s dead,” Brianna said, as tears slowly found their way down her cheeks.
Jennifer lightly touched the waitress’s hand to comfort her. “Brianna, we need to ask you some questions about Catherine. Were you two friends?”
“Yes, we became friends about a year ago when she started working here. We hung out after work sometimes.”
“What was your impression of Catherine’s relationship with Nicholas Connor?”
“I’m not the best person to ask about Nicholas. I don’t like him very much.” Brianna frowned as she nervously folded and unfolded a napkin.
“Why not?” asked Blake.
“I didn’t think he was good for Catherine. She was so sweet and naive, and he is so not. Sometimes I think he purposely picked fights with her. I never witnessed them fighting, but the way Catherine talked, it sounded like he got a kick out of upsetting her.”
Jennifer’s eyebrow rose as she glanced at Blake, and then asked, “Were they arguing a lot?”
“Yes, especially after Catherine overheard some of the other waitresses talking about how Nicholas was frequenting the area bars at night without her. I heard he was spending most of his time at the Hoosier Sports Bar.”
Jennifer noticed John Isaac tapping his watch as he glared at Brianna. “Oh, it looks like my break is over. I’ll see if your food is ready.”
John moved to their table, sitting in the chair where Brianna sat. “Terrible news about Catherine. Hated to hear it. She was a good kid. Is that why you’re here, to ask questions?”
“Yes,” answered Blake. “How well did you know Catherine?”
“Pretty well.”
“What did you think of her relationship with Nicholas Connor?”
“I told her to break up with the pompous asshole, and you can tell him I said that. Catherine told me she was in love with him. But Nicholas was cheating on her every chance he got. He’s supposed to be this upright citizen, elementary teacher. If you ask me, he’s a prick.”
“It doesn’t sound like you like him very much,” noted Jennifer.
“I don’t.”
“Do you think he had anything to do with Catherine’s death?”
“I wouldn’t rule him out. That’s for sure.”
John left abruptly to help a customer at the register. Blake looked at Jennifer. “What do you think?”
“The cheating bothers me. Maybe a fight they had about it turned violent.”
“I wonder if she caught him in the act. Remember the pizza delivery kid said a woman was with Nicholas when he delivered the food the night Catherine disappeared?”
***
Thirty minutes later, Blake and Jennifer were headed down Route 40 toward the elementary school where Nicholas Connor taught. With Blake focusing on the road, Jennifer gazed at him. He was wearing a gray T-shirt and jeans with a black leather blazer. The man was buff, his hard chest straining against the fabric of his shirt. She remembered how good he felt when he hugged her at the crime scene, his warm body pressed against hers. He definitely worked out, but she wondered why she’d never seen him at the Sheriff’s Gym.
“See something you like, Jennifer?”
“Not sure what you’re talking about,” she said, looking away. Damn it. She couldn’t believe he caught her staring at him again. Jennifer turned to look out her window so he wouldn’t notice how hot her cheeks had become. She was acting like a school girl, or one of the female deputies who ogled him. What must he think of her?
He stopped for a traffic light. After a long moment, Blake said, “Jennifer, I like the color of your hair, it’s the same color of the wheat in the farmer’s field I pass on my way to work. Your eyes, the color of whiskey, are expressive and intelligent. I can always tell when you have an idea or question.” He paused for a second. “Naw, I don’t check you out either.” He grinned mischievously and focused his attention on the green light and getting through the intersection.
His words came out of nowhere and sent her heart pounding an erratic rhythm. She shouldn’t be so pleased.
***
By the time they reached the elementary, school was out and there were few cars in the parking lot. They entered and made a beeline for the principal’s office. Sarah Hill, vice principal, was pulling a file out of a huge green filing cabinet when they entered. Once they introduced themselves, she motioned for them to sit in her office across the hall.
“We’d like to ask you some questions about one of your teachers.” Blake began.
“I imagine the teacher you want to discuss is Nicholas Connor.” Sarah sighed and took off her reading glasses. “I’ve heard that Catherine Thomas was found murdered. I know they dated. So what do you want to know?”
“Tell us what you know about Nicholas.” Jennifer urged.
“I know I wished I’d never hired him three years ago.” Sarah said as she circled her desk to close the door for privacy.
“Why do you say that?” asked Jennifer as she glanced at Blake, whose eyebrows raised inquiringly.
“It wasn’t long after he started teaching here that I got a visit from some parents who had some interesting information about Nicholas.” She began. “They were friends with a family whose kids attended the high school in the corporation where Nicholas last taught in Salem, Indiana. There were rumors that he’d had a sexual relationship with a sixteen-year-old student.”
“Were the rumors substantiated?”
“Not by me, and I tried,” said Sarah, her voice laced with frustration.
“The sixteen-year-old’s parents found a dresser drawer filled with suggestive love letters from Nicholas, along with a collection of romance books, each with the theme of a young girl who runs away with an older man. Nicholas and the girl had been meeting after school at his apartment. Her parents called the school, then the police. He was held overnight, but was never charged.”
“Why wasn’t he charged?” Jennifer asked, her lips pressed together in anger.
“The parents dropped the charges. They didn’t want their daughter’s reputation smeared. They moved out of town.”
“What did the school corporation do?”
“I imagine they didn’t have enough ammunition to fire him, so they probably made it clear he should find another place to teach,” said Sarah.
Incredulous, Jennifer asked, “But when you called them for a reference, didn’t they tell you about this?”
“That’s the thing. They gave him a good reference.” Sarah said with a smirk. “I guess if they hadn’t, they might never be rid of him. So now I’m stuck with him and I’m watching his every move.”
“Has anything happened here?” asked Blake.
“No relationships with high school girls that I know of. He’s dated a couple of female teachers who work here. Neither one went out with him for very long because they found out about his long-term relationship with Catherine.”
“Do you think Catherine knew Nicholas was dating these teachers?” Blake wondered.
“Who do you think told the teachers about their relationship?”
***
Walking out to the car, Jennifer seethed with anger. “The bastard is a pedophile. They should have nailed him in Salem. There’s no way he should be teaching school.”
“It pisses me off, too. But there’s not much they could do if the parents dropped the charges.”
“It makes me that much more eager to interview him again — this time for Catherine’s murder.”
“That’s a stretch, Jennifer, between preyin
g on high school girls for sex, compared to torture and murder. We need more information. Brianna said Nicholas was spending a lot of time at the Hoosier Sports Bar. Let’s find out who he was spending it with.”
***
There were so many cars parked outside the Hoosier Sports Bar that Blake had difficulty finding a space to park. Inside the bar was the after-work crowd. Jennifer checked out the dining area, looking for Nicholas Connor, then scanned the bar, but she didn’t see him.
“If there’s anyone who can tell us what Nicholas was doing at this place, it’s the bartender.” Blake said and he led Jennifer to two empty bar stools.
Blake got the bartender’s attention and she moved to them. “What will you have?”
“Two sweet teas.”
“Seriously? How about a couple of Long Island Teas?”
Blake took out his badge and laid it on the bar. “We’re from the sheriff’s office. Just the sweet teas and some information when you get back.”
Jennifer noticed the bartender’s mouth slip into a sour grin when she eyed the badge. The woman quickly turned her back to them as she prepared the iced teas. The bartender looked to be in her twenties with short, spiked platinum-blonde hair and heavy makeup. When she returned, she delivered the teas then turned to leave, but Jennifer glanced at her name tag, then caught her hand. “Patti, we need some information. It will only take a few minutes of your time.”
“Listen, the bar is really busy tonight. I really don’t have...”
Jennifer cut her off. “We can talk here or down at the station. Your choice.”
She glared at Jennifer then asked a male bartender at the other side of the bar to watch her area while she took a break. “What do you want to know?”
Taking out her small writing pad, Jennifer asked, “What’s your last name, Patti?”
“Simpson. Patti Simpson.”
“Any relation to Butch Simpson?” asked Jennifer.
Patti blinked and swallowed uncomfortably. “Yeah, he’s my husband.”
Jennifer knew Butch Simpson. He was considered the town bully and never had a conflict he didn’t resolve with his fists. Butch had been in and out of jail since he hit puberty. Most people feared his vicious temper and steered clear of him. She didn’t want to imagine what it would be like to be married to the guy.
“Do you know Nicholas Connor?”
Patti nervously rubbed at a spot on the bar with a wash cloth. “Yeah, I know him.” She said softly.
“We hear that Nicholas hangs out here a lot. We’re wondering who he’s hanging out with.”
Patti’s looked down as her eyes darted to the right, and Jennifer knew the next words out of her mouth would be a lie. “To tell the truth, I never noticed who Nicholas was hanging out with. It’s a big place and on the weekends, it’s packed, so your guess is good as mine.”
She was definitely lying, and Jennifer resolved to find out why.
Blake moved in with a question. “Patti, have you seen Nicholas come in here with Catherine Thomas?”
She licked her lips, looking down again. “I suppose I might have seen them once or twice. Lots of people come here.”
Three men arrived and sat at the bar. Patti’s counterpart was at the far end of the bar mixing drinks. “Listen, I have a job to do. Are you finished with your questions?”
“For now.”
Patti rushed off. Jennifer was far from being finished with questioning Patti Simpson. She was lying and Jennifer wanted to know why. She looked at Blake for his perspective, “What do you think?”
“She’s lying through her teeth. Grab your glass. We’re moving to the other end of the bar. Maybe her bartending partner will be more forthcoming.”
Harry Brooks, the male bartender, eyed them curiously before asking them if they’d like another drink.
“Just information,” responded Blake as he showed Harry his badge. “Nicholas Connor? Do you know him?”
“Of course, I know him. He comes in here a lot — usually later in the evening. What do you want to know?”
“We just want to get a sense of who he hangs out with,” said Blake.
“He used to bring his girlfriend, Catherine, in here a lot. But that changed after the fight.”
“What fight?” asked Jennifer. They’d already learned that the two had argued a lot, but no one mentioned they did it in public.
“About a month and a half ago, Nicholas and Catherine were sitting in that booth over there.” Harry pointed out a booth not far from the bar. “I heard a commotion and looked over in time to see Catherine throw her drink in Nicholas’s face. They screamed at each other until I walked over and asked them to quiet down or they’d have to leave. Catherine shoved her plate of food in Nicholas’s lap, grabbed her purse and ran out of the bar. He cleaned himself up and ordered tequila shots until closing. That was the last night I saw him in here with Catherine.”
“Have you seen him hang out with anyone other than Catherine?”
“Yeah, but I’m surprised Patti didn’t tell you when you were talking to her.”
“Why’s that?”
“He spends most nights sitting at the bar chatting with Patti.”
***
Nicholas Connor was finishing his fried chicken dinner at the Sugar Creek Cafe when Blake and Jennifer located him. He didn’t say much on the ride to the station, but the scowl on his face spoke volumes.
When they arrived at the station, Blake asked a deputy to put Nicholas in an interview room.
“Are we leaving the bad boy to stew about his situation?” asked Jennifer.
“Yup. Let’s leave him in there for thirty minutes.”
***
Julie Thomas sat in Fred’s room at Memorial Hospital. She’d been there since his heart attack in the parking lot when Catherine’s car was found. He’d had to undergo heart bypass surgery. His condition was guarded, and the doctors warned that the news of Catherine’s murder could kill him in his fragile state. So she’d waited, holding Fred’s hand and praying he’d regain his strength. Julie was so tired and worried that she felt numb.
She closed her eyes to rest for a minute. Julie remembered how proud Fred had been when Catherine was born. He’d walked the hospital floor, carrying a box loaded with Cuban cigars that he passed out to whomever he encountered. They had been so young and happy. Fred had turned out to be a wonderful father, supporting Catherine in everything she did. Julie blinked as tears ran down her cheeks unstopped. Christ, she missed Catherine. Her little girl had grown up to be her best friend. How empty her life had become in such a short time.
Julie’s cell phone tune sounded. She jerked it out of her purse and went into the hall, fearing the noise would wake Fred out of his peaceful slumber. Before answering, she glanced at the display and froze when she saw the name “Catherine Thomas” in black letters on the small screen. Icy fear twisted around her heart, her body trembled, as she lifted the phone to her ear. She struggled to say something but the words wouldn’t come.
“Bet you thought this call was from Catherine, didn’t you, Mama?” The male voice was deep and absolutely emotionless as he taunted her.
“Who is this? Where did you get Catherine’s cell phone?”
“Where do you think? Found your number in her favorites.”
“You bastard! Why did you hurt her?” She gasped, realizing a shiver of panic.
“Mama, I just wanted you to know that good girls don’t always go straight to heaven. Sometimes they get to visit hell first. I made sure of that with your Catherine.”
The call disconnected and Julie Thomas leaned back, screaming a piercing cry that bounced off the walls in the quiet hallway, until she lost consciousness.
***
Lane stood with Jennifer and Blake, watching Nicholas Connor through the one-way glass. Lane had been briefed and observed the man in the other room, who was biting his fingernail and pacing. Finally, Nicholas sat down.
“Think he’s been in there long enough?�
� asked Jennifer.
After Lane and Blake nodded, Jennifer entered the interview room while Lane and Blake watched.
Jennifer sat in the chair directly across from Nicholas. She felt his eyes on her, but didn’t look up until she retrieved a small writing pad and pen from her jacket.
“Hello, Nicholas. Sorry I kept you waiting. You wouldn’t believe all the things I have to take care of with this murder case. You heard about us finding Catherine’s body, right?”
His eyes wide and face flushed, Nicholas nodded.
Jennifer looked down at her pad for a second then asked, “According to my information, you were a no-show at the search organized to find Catherine last weekend? Is that right?”
He nodded again.
“Now, maybe it’s just me, but I find it odd that a long-time boyfriend wasn’t there to help search for his girlfriend’s body. I mean if I’d been in a relationship with a guy that went missing, I’d be the first one at a search organized to find him.”
“I had plans I couldn’t get out of.” He was starting to sweat and wiped across his forehead with the back of his hand.
“What kind of plans?”
“I’d already committed to chaperoning the high school debate team at a meet in Terre Haute.”
“How many members of the high school debate team are female, Nicholas?”
“I don’t know. I guess eleven or so.” He replied sharply, acting as if she were asking a stupid question.
“I’m asking because I hear you have a thing for high school girls.” Jennifer asked, holding her temper in check.
“I thought we were here to talk about Catherine?” Nicholas was eager to change the subject.
“Did Catherine discover that you have a thing for high school girls? Is that why you two argued?” asked Jennifer.
“Who said we argued? We got along just fine.” Nicholas eyes were blinking at her, then suddenly he looked down. He was lying.
“That’s not what I hear, Nicholas. I have witnesses who say you and Catherine quarreled a great deal.” She chided.
He just stared at her.
“Just a second. It seems like there was another question I wanted to make sure I asked you.” Jennifer flipped through her notepad until she found a page. She tapped on it with her fingernail. “So on the night Catherine disappeared, you say you were home alone watching the Pacers vs. Miami Heat game on ESPN?”