Bitter Past

by Caroline Fardig

  “It’s already forgotten.”

  Sterling stuck his head through the door. “You ladies coming? We have work to do.”

  Not wanting to start another fight, I followed the detectives out to our cars. Even though I’d ingested three candy bars before we came over, I was still starving, as was the norm when I pulled an all-nighter. I stopped to grab a burger on my way back to the station.

  Baxter was waiting for me when I walked through the front door. “I thought I should return your phone.” Handing it back to me, he added, “Um…you didn’t listen to your messages from Dudley Cooper yet, did you?”

  “No. Too much going on tonight.”

  “He wants to meet with you.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen.” Cooper may have been throwing his life away with both hands, but I wasn’t going to contribute to it.

  Baxter scratched his chin, his five o’clock shadow fast turning into scruff. “I hate to ask this of you, but…I think it does need to happen.”

  “Didn’t you say you wanted me to stay away from him?”

  “You wouldn’t be alone with him…”

  Finally I realized what Baxter was getting at. “You want to ambush him.”

  “Ambush is such a harsh word. I want to draw him out.”

  I rubbed my forehead. It would be a crappy thing for me to do to set him up like that. Regardless of whether he was a murderer or not, Cooper trusted me. “Ugh. That’s really shady.”

  “So is he. He knew we were searching for the murder weapon at his and his parents’ homes. He also knew that once we located it we’d come after him. He’s nowhere to be found, so he obviously ran. The guy’s guilty.”

  “I don’t know. I’m not convinced of that. From what I’ve heard, the evidence seems to point to him, but I can’t believe he’d do such a thing. And why would he have brought me to Carnival Cove the morning after if he knew we’d find the body?”

  “You know I can’t talk about the case with you since you’re a witness, but let’s just say after we tie up a few loose ends, the Vasti Marais case should be a slam dunk.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Really? You’re sure there isn’t something you’re missing?”

  “We have what we need. That’s all I can say.”

  It hurt to think that Cooper could have done such an awful thing, all the while insisting to me how innocent he was. If Baxter was right and Cooper really was guilty, he was exhibiting some true sociopathic behavior. I thought I knew him so well.

  Baxter, noticing the inner struggle I was going through, put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know this must be difficult, but I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

  “Why don’t you just find out where his family’s lake house is and go pick him up there?”

  He sighed. “We tried that. I reached out to Monroe County, and they had a unit go out there. No one was home. They’re having someone sit on the place, but so far Cooper hasn’t shown. It’s a big pain in the ass, and it would be a hell of a lot easier if he’d come to us.”

  “Which brings it back to me.”

  Smiling, he joked, “You’re our only hope.”

  “This sucks.”

  “I know.”

  I blew out a breath. A warrant was a warrant, and I’d made a promise a long time ago to uphold the law. I didn’t obstruct justice, even for friends. I’d tried to urge Cooper to go to the police and warned him that it would be better not to let things get out of hand. Well, now things had got out of hand.

  “Fine. I’ll do it. But I’m going to try one more time to get him to come in on his own.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t care how he gets here as long as he gets here.”

  I looked at my watch. “It’s nearly two AM. He’ll think something’s up if I call him in the middle of the night. Can I wait until morning?”

  Relieved, he said, “That’ll work. According to the messages he left on your phone, he’s got a safe place to hide out and he’s not going anywhere. He insists he’s innocent and says he’s going to wait it out.”

  I frowned, wishing Cooper had taken my advice.

  “You look like you need more coffee. Come on.” Baxter led me down the hallway and poured us each a cup of coffee. “We have to go now and brief the Sheriff on our progress with the case so far. After that, do you want to talk to Tristan Sellers with me? We have him in holding.”

  “Sure. Sounds like fun.”

  He squinted at me. “You don’t sound like you mean that.”

  “You are quite the detective, Detective.”

  Chuckling, he continued down the hall to the conference room. Sterling was already seated at the large table, perusing a file. He didn’t look up when we came in. His bad behavior was typical Sterling. When he became focused on a case, everyone had to give him a wide berth. Not that he was terribly congenial on a good day, but he could get belligerent and downright nasty sometimes. All that aside, he had the best case closure rate in the county, so he was doing something right. Baxter and I took seats opposite Sterling, and Jayne appeared within a few moments.

  Tossing a notepad down onto the table, she said, “I know we’re all tired, so let’s get down to business. Sterling, you’re up.”

  Sterling shuffled some papers around in his file, placing a handwritten, bulleted list on top. “The scene is secured, awaiting your approval for release, Sheriff. This evening, I apprehended the resident of the apartment, Tristan Sellers, and he’s currently being held on suspicion. I interrogated him, but he is insisting he’s innocent. The kid’s a mess, going on and on about how our vic was his ‘best bro.’ ”

  “Did you find out why the victim was in that apartment in the first place?” she asked.

  “He had a fight with his roommate, so he was crashing at Sellers’s place for a while.”

  “Did you question the victim’s roommate?”

  “Yes, and he alibied out. He was at an orchestra rehearsal during the time of death window.”

  “Do you feel that Sellers is a valid suspect then, especially considering his involvement in the Vasti Marais case?” asked Jayne.

  “Aside from being Vasti’s boyfriend, how is he involved?” I asked.

  Frowning, Jayne replied, “I hate discussing the other case’s details with you since you’re involved as well, but you probably need to know that Tristan Sellers was present when Vasti Marais was shot.”

  My jaw dropped. “Why didn’t he call the police or an ambulance or something?”

  Sterling said, “When I talked to him, he said he freaked out and ran. He swears he didn’t see the shooter. Back to your question, Sheriff, I don’t like Sellers as the killer for either murder. I don’t see how he could have gotten his hands on the type of rifle that killed his girlfriend. His alibi during Eli Vanover’s time of death is tight. He was in class except for a period of about ten minutes, which wouldn’t have been enough time to run to his apartment and do the deed. Based on that and his demeanor while I questioned him, I think he’s telling the truth, but I wanted to keep him around for Baxter to take a crack at him.”

  “If you believe Sellers had nothing to do with it, then who is your next best suspect?” Jayne asked.

  Sterling hesitated, and Baxter jumped in. “What about the girl who called it in?”

  “Amber Corelli? No,” she replied. “Sterling and I talked to her afterward, and I don’t think she has what it takes to pull something like this off. She was a basket case. The poor girl could barely speak. Sterling verified her alibi as well. She was in class during the entire time of death window.” She looked from Sterling to Baxter. “Come on, guys. Give me a name.”

  Sterling had been brooding about something. He gave me a hard stare, then finally said, “Dudley Cooper.”

  “What?” I said, disgusted. “Just because another college kid is dead, you blame him? Do you have anything to support your wild theory?”

  “No, but I hear you do.”

  “Me?”r />
  Baxter murmured to me, “I think he’s talking about the confrontation you heard between Sellers and Cooper earlier in the day.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “What does that have to do with anything? Eli wasn’t a part of that.”

  Shrugging, Sterling said, “Maybe Cooper was angry over their confrontation and decided to continue the argument at Sellers’s apartment. In his fit of rage, he didn’t realize he had the wrong kid.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “He killed the wrong kid? Seriously? That has to be the most ridiculous theory ever.”

  “They do look a lot alike,” Baxter muttered, undoubtedly remembering his earlier mistake.

  Deep in thought, Jayne said, “It’s not such a crazy theory. What if the killer, not necessarily Dudley Cooper, decided that Tristan Sellers is a loose end because he was a witness to the other murder?”

  “Then why did he wait three days to finish the job? He could have shot Tristan at Carnival Cove,” I pointed out. I still wasn’t done with Sterling and his stupid theory. “And by the way, Sterling, Cooper would have been able to tell Eli and Tristan apart. Besides, he wasn’t mad at Tristan, he was only trying to give him his condolences about Vasti, and Tristan went nuts. He was trying to calm Tristan down, not start something. He didn’t want to have the conversation in front of the whole science department. He tried to get Tristan to talk about it in private, but Tristan ran off,” I said.

  “Exactly. Cooper went to Sellers’s apartment to finish the conversation and silence the kid once and for all. He just got the wrong kid,” replied Sterling, a smug look on his face.

  I was about to fire a smart remark back at Sterling, but Baxter put a hand on my arm. “When was the last time there was a murder at Ashmore College?”

  I said impatiently, “Never? I don’t know.”

  “Close. In over a hundred years, there have only been two murders on campus. One in 1918, when a professor came back from the war and found out a fellow professor had been having an affair with his wife. He shot the guy on the front lawn in broad daylight. The other was in the sixties when some hippie got high on LSD, thought his roommate was a bear, and beat him to death with a baseball bat.”

  “Thanks for the history lesson, but I don’t see your point,” I said.

  Baxter explained, “We’ve got two deaths within one week. Vasti Marais was Tristan Sellers’s girlfriend and Eli Vanover was staying at his place. It’s likely the deaths are connected.”

  “Just because the deaths are connected, it doesn’t have to mean it’s the same killer, though, right? The MO changed. Vasti was shot, and Eli was hanged. Normally don’t killers stick with what works?” I asked.

  Sterling said, “Serial killers, yes, but that doesn’t hold true if one murder was committed to cover up another. The intention and reasoning are different for the second murder so the method can be, also. It could still be the same killer.”

  “It’s possible that I have something besides Tristan Sellers to link the two crime scenes, but it’s a long shot and it won’t hold up in court,” said Baxter.

  “Look, until you people get me some actual evidence, we’re dead in the water. And I need to make some kind of statement to the press soon,” Jayne said.

  “We’re going to pick Dudley Cooper up this morning, as soon as we can set up a time for him to meet Ellie,” said Baxter.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t forget, Detective, that Ellie is a civilian. Don’t go putting her in harm’s way.”

  “I would never do that, Sheriff,” he replied.

  Sterling jumped in, changing the subject. “Dr. Berg said he thought a handgun might have been used, possibly to intimidate the victim.” He turned to Baxter and me. “Did you find one at the scene?”

  “No,” I replied. “There were no weapons of any kind, aside from the jump rope, of course. And before we get going on a different topic here, I want to point out that Eli Vanover was the editor of the campus newspaper. He wasn’t exactly well liked around the place. Maybe whoever killed him had the right person and had a vendetta. His stories were always pissing someone off. He’s just started this new video blog, and he’s been going around campus recording people’s conversations and catching them in…compromising positions and posting it for the world to see.”

  Jayne nodded. “That’s a valid theory. Has he done a harsh exposé lately that would make someone come after him, or has he caught something on video that might get someone into trouble?”

  I sighed. “Yes…Dudley Cooper, actually. I haven’t looked at Eli’s vlog lately, but Monday’s paper had a big headline about Vasti’s death and him being questioned about it.”

  Sterling guffawed. “There you go proving my point again about Cooper being the killer. Maybe he didn’t get the wrong kid. Maybe he thought Eli Vanover had done some digging and knew too much, so he axed him.”

  Jayne said, “I’m afraid this puts even more suspicion on Dudley Cooper, but it also opens up a lot of other possibilities. We need copies of that newspaper going back at least two weeks. Go through them and come up with a list of people who might have a reason to want to get back at Eli Vanover. Question the rest of the newspaper staff as well. And I also want one of you to view every video on that blog.” She stood, flipping her notebook shut. “It seems that you three have some work to do. Get to it.”

  As I got up to leave, Jayne pulled me aside. “Ellie, thank you again for coming on board. The case is a difficult one, and we need all the help we can get. You’ll be compensated for your time, don’t forget.”

  I nodded. “You’re welcome. I’m a little rusty about some things, but I think I have a handle on it.”

  “Good. I hate to ask, but I’m going to need you here every free moment.”

  “I figured that.”

  “Your teaching job comes first, and I respect that, but you’re going to have to eat, sleep, and breathe this case otherwise.”

  “I know, and it’s not a problem. I can run some tests at my lab between classes, and once I’m done each day, I’ll head over here.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She hesitated. “About using you as bait to draw out Dudley Cooper—I’m not happy with the idea. Is there another way?”

  Even though she didn’t have any children of her own, Jayne had always been better at mothering me than my own mother ever had. Smiling, I said, “I’m going to try one last time to convince him to turn himself in. And I appreciate your concern. I don’t think Cooper would try to hurt me, but Baxter assured me I wouldn’t be alone with him.”

  “When cornered, people will do things you never imagined.” She squeezed my arm. “Be careful, okay?”

  “I will.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Baxter caught up with me in the hallway. “Are you ready to go scare some information out of our young detainee?”

  Rolling my eyes, I replied, “I don’t know about that. I have to be inspired to rip someone a new asshole, and I doubt that Tristan killed his ‘best bro.’ Maybe you could play bad cop and I could play good cop. I do have a decent relationship with Tristan. I could try to convince him to open up to me.”

  He grinned. “I was hoping to get to see you play bad cop.”

  We headed downstairs to the interrogation room, where Tristan waited. The kid looked rough. He was pale and haggard—a boy who had just lost his best friend and his girlfriend.

  When Tristan saw me, he brightened. “Professor Matthews? Hey, did the school send you over here to bail me out or something?”

  I sat down across from him and gave him a sympathetic smile. “No, Tristan. I’m sorry. I’m consulting on the case.”

  Seeming to deflate right before my eyes, he said, “Oh.”

  “I’m so sorry for the loss of your girlfriend and your friend.”

  He nodded, too overcome with emotion to say anything.

  I said, “I know you’ve already spoken with Detective Sterling.”

  He nodded again and frowned. Poor kid. I wouldn’
t have wanted to be interrogated by Sterling, especially with the mood he was in today.

  Gesturing to Baxter, I said, “This is Detective Baxter. He’s also working this case.” I leaned forward and whispered, “He’s a lot nicer than Sterling.”

  My comment got a ghost of a smile out of Tristan.

  “We have a few questions for you if that’s okay, Tristan.”

  “Okay,” he whispered.

  “Detective Baxter, did you want to start?” I asked.

  Baxter approached the table and took a seat next to me. He put the case file in front of him and got out a legal pad to take notes.

  He asked Tristan, “You said Eli Vanover was staying at your place?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And why was that?”

  Tristan didn’t look too interested in talking to Baxter. He wiped a tear from his eyes and shrugged. “He needed some space.”

  “Was that because of the fight between him and his roommate?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When was the fight?”

  “Monday.”

  “What did they fight about?”

  He shrugged again, casting a wary glance at me. “I told this to the other cop…”

  Baxter was starting to fidget. I could tell he was getting frustrated.

  I said to Tristan, “I know you gave Detective Sterling your statement. But we really want to catch whoever did this to Eli. I’m sure you want to bring his killer to justice as well. I know some of these questions are redundant, and you probably don’t appreciate being treated like a criminal, but even the smallest bit of information you can give us might be all we need to figure out who did this. We owe it to Eli.”

  Tristan ran his hands through his hair. “What do you want to know?”

  “Do you know what the fight was about?” I asked.

  “All Eli said was that his roommate was being a dick over some story for the campus paper,” he said.

  Baxter and I shared an uneasy glance. Baxter asked, “Do you know what the story was about, Tristan?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t know any specific details, but Eli was all hyped up about it. Whatever the story was, it was epic.”