“Hey, Katrina, you ok?” said a voice.
I spun around and saw Todd. I felt light-headed with relief. I also could have happily punched him. He jogged the last few steps up to me and bent down to pick up my phone.
“Sorry, did I scare you?”
“Just a little,” I said, hoping that it didn’t qualify as a lie. It was the first time I’d seen Todd not wearing a suit—he was in jeans and a sweater tonight. He was carrying a briefcase, though. “I really wasn’t expecting to see you. How did you find me?”
“You gave us your schedule, remember?”
“Oh…right. I’d forgotten.”
“Do you always walk out here alone at night after class?”
“Not on purpose. I try to walk with the students as much as I can.”
“We’ll have to see what can be done to make this safer. It’s not good.” His eyes scanned the area, taking in the bushes, the dim lighting, and the secluded location.
It’s not personal, I reminded myself. He’d be concerned over the safety of any female in this situation.
“Did you need something? I mean, as happy as I am to have an armed escort to my car…”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I wanted to bring you up to speed on the case. Do you want to talk in your office?”
I sighed. “I wish we could. But adjunct professors don’t have offices. We could talk in my car if you want.”
“I suppose that would work.”
I unlocked the car and hoped I hadn’t left any trash on the passenger side floor. I usually remember to take stuff out and throw it away, but I wouldn’t be shocked if there was something there. At least it was dark.
“I was wondering how all your interviews went,” I said after we had gotten in and closed the doors. There was enough light to see Todd’s face dimly. “I especially wondered about Matt. He wasn’t in class this morning.”
“No, he wouldn’t be. We brought him in for questioning. He admitted to wanting the book and knowing what was in it. When he found the journal at the store, he searched for entries around the date of the flood and found the one you told me about.”
“Did he admit to trying to break into the store?”
“Yep. Says he panicked and thought he would lose his scholarship if the truth were made public. He also seemed to genuinely believe that the journal is family property. But he denied doing the murder.”
“Do you believe him?”
“He does have an alibi. At the time of the shooting he was with a relative who confirms that. He doesn’t seem to be the killer.”
“Oh, I’m glad,” I said. “So glad. I hated the thought that I might have had a murderer for a student, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And did you talk to the other lady, too? Frank’s old sweetheart?”
“I did. Linda Johnson says she broke things off with Frank because she was informed that Frank’s family had gotten the store illegally. She was told that fraud was a family characteristic, and that they were all in on it. She thought it would be best to distance herself from a such a corrupt family. I got the impression that the attraction was much stronger on Frank’s side than on hers.”
“And was it true? About the store being gotten illegally?”
“I don’t know. The person had told her a story about the grandfather causing an accident that killed the former owner and then forging the deed to the property. She said it sounded plausible at the time.”
“Did she mean she doesn’t believe it anymore?” I traced the circle of the steering wheel with my finger. If Frank hadn’t really owned the store, then did I really own it now? Not that I wanted the store, of course, but if selling it would fund a missionary venture…
“She doesn’t know if she believes it or not. The person who told her seemed a credible source, although she now thinks that it was possibly made up to get her away from Frank.”
“Who was it?”
“John’s brother. Frank’s cousin. She came to suspect later that he had an unrequited attachment to her. He is now deceased.”
I sighed. “So there’s no one to check her story with.”
“Well, I did call John and talk to him again. He says his older brother did like Linda and didn’t like Frank. He said he wouldn’t put it past his brother to make up such a story and feed it to Linda.”
“So you think it wasn’t true at all?”
“Not necessarily. John said the Delaneys weren’t exactly a byword for honesty in the community. He’s not a Delaney, you know—he was related to Frank from the mother’s side and had very little reason to either believe or disbelieve the story.”
“Linda must have told someone what she heard.”
“She did. Her family. And now her nephew works at the college. You want to guess what his name is?”
“Does it start with a K?
“Yep. Kevin Schmidt. Vice President for Finance.”
“Ohhh.”
“Know anything about him?”
“No, just his name.”
“We’re checking into him. We’ll probably pull him in for questioning tomorrow.”
“Well, that was a good day’s work, huh? You found out a lot of things today that you didn’t know before.”
“True. And there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.” He’d been looking out the front window, but now he faced me.
“Oh?” my heart skipped a beat.
He opened his briefcase and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“This,” he said, handing it to me. I was glad it was dark; I would have hated if he saw me look disappointed.
“What is it?”
“It’s the deed to Frank’s store. We found it.”
“Oh!” I unfolded it but it was too dark to read it. I switched on the car’s overhead light.
“Does it look genuine to you?” asked Todd. “It looks written by a typewriter—that seems a little modern for the date, doesn’t it?”
I looked at the date: 1894.
“No,” I said, “As far as I know, typewritten documents were standard by the 1890’s. The paper feels right for the era, too. But I’m not an expert—you really need to send it to a lab to make sure.” I handed it back to him.
“Thanks,” he said. “That’s very helpful. I think that’s everything I needed to tell you.”
“I can’t believe you came all the way here to find me this late at night just to get me up to speed.”
“I didn’t. I mean, we were nearby, at the bookstore. When we finished I thought you might be coming out of class and I thought I’d see if I could catch you. Oh, wait!” Todd went back into his briefcase and pulled out a key.
“What’s this?”
“Frank’s key to the store. The police no longer need it, and I thought I’d give it to you. The carpet is cleaned, by the way.”
“You cleaned it?”
“Along with your friend Ed. He’s a really good guy.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks. Really, thanks. I appreciate it so much!”
“No problem.” He fiddled with the handle of his briefcase. “It was my pleasure.” He cleared his throat. “I—” His phone rang. “Excuse me,” he said to me, getting out of the car and closing the door behind him.
“Detective Mason,” I heard him say. Then there were a lot of uh-huh’s and no’s and a yes. Then I heard, “I’d better come now... Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Bye.”
He opened the door of my car and reached in for the briefcase.
“I’ve got to go—something came up with another case. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Ok,” I said. My “goodbye” was lost in the sound of the door shutting.
Chapter 8
That was the last I heard from Todd for almost a week. I toyed with the idea of calling him to see what Kevin Schmidt had said or find out if the lab had analyzed the property deed but decided against it. If Kevin had been arrested for murder, I was sure I would have heard about it. Todd probably had
his mind on this other case now and didn’t need me distracting him with unnecessary questions. And there was always the chance he would think I was pursuing him, and I wasn’t. Was I? Would I have thought about calling up the detective in charge of the case if he had been an unattractive married man? I wasn’t sure.
On Friday the Coles invited me to eat dinner with them and go see Josh play a basketball game. I accepted with pleasure. I hadn’t been to one of Josh’s games in a while, and it would give me a chance to hang out with my favorite kids.
Things didn’t quite go according to plan, though. This time it was Mia who had a meltdown right before we were supposed to leave for the game. I volunteered to stay home with her so the others could go, but it was decided that Kim would stay, too.
“To be honest,” she told me after Mia’s hour-long tantrum subsided, “I’m glad I could stay home and talk to you. It’s been a crazy week and I’m tired. Plus, we need to spend some time catching up.”
“I agree,” I said plopping down on the couch next to her. “How has your week been?”
She waved away my question with her hand. “Not me, silly, you! What’s new with you?”
“Not much,” I said. “I still don’t officially own the bookstore, the murder is still unsolved, there’s still a month left before the end of the semester…oh! But I am editing a new novel.”
Kim threw a pillow at me. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. What’s new with the detective?”
“Not a thing.”
“You mean he still hasn’t said anything?”
I shook my head.
“But—but he cleaned your carpet with Ed on Tuesday.”
“He did, and it was extremely kind of him, but he still didn’t say anything.”
“Well, that stinks,” said Kim. “And it puzzles me. Ed was sure he was serious.”
“There was a moment the other night when I thought he might have been going to say something, but he had a phone call right then and had to rush off.”
“There, you see? He is interested.”
I held up a hand. “Not so fast. For one thing, I have no idea what he was going to say. For another, I haven’t heard from him in days. I don’t like guys that throw out hints and then don’t follow through. If he wants to pursue me, he should just do it—no hesitating and tiptoeing around the idea. If he isn’t sure yet if he likes me or not then he should stop doing things that make me wonder. You know?”
Kim sighed. “I know. He didn’t seem like that kind of guy to Ed, but maybe he is.” She twirled her hair broodingly for a minute. “Oh well. Nothing to be done about that now, I guess. Have you thought about what you’re going to do with the bookstore?”
“No. In the last couple days I’ve started using it as my office, though—I can study and do lesson planning and paper-grading there. It’s quiet and very close to campus. Much easier than driving home and back to campus again.”
“I’m guessing you’re not open for business.”
“No. For one thing it’s not legally mine yet, and with this whole deed thing hanging over my head I don’t feel like I can make any real decisions. Besides, I can’t run a store and teach at the same time.”
“No, I suppose not. You know what I was thinking? It would be a great ministry hangout place for students. You know, like a Christian bookstore that was also a coffee store, where there could be talks on different topics or music nights.”
“That’s a thought,” I said. “I’ve heard about places like that. It would be neat. But I don’t want to run it.”
“It might be something our church would like to get involved in.”
“You think? That would be great. But again, it’s not legally mine yet. I can’t make any decisions now. And if I decide to go to the mission field, selling the place would be the most logical move.”
“Still thinking about that, huh?”
“Yes. And Becky and I were wondering if there’s some kind of informational meeting she and I could go to about foster care. We’re both thinking about it.”
“Ooo!” Kim squealed, “That would be great!”
“Thinking about it,” I said firmly. “No decisions made.”
“Understood,” said Kim. “I’ll find out when the next meeting is. Ok, you want to help me whip up some brownies for the family when they get home?”
“Sure. Is Mia settled enough to help us?”
“I don’t know. I’ll peek into her room and see how she’s doing.”
While Kim went to check on Mia, I looked at some of Deirdre’s artwork that was lying on a side table.
“Deirdre’s getting really good,” I said to Kim when she returned.
“I know, isn’t she? She’s trying to pick out which picture she should submit for the showcase gallery that’s coming up for her art class. Mia’s asleep, so I think I’ll just leave her alone.”
“Sounds good,” I said. “That means I get to lick the bowl all by myself.”
My phone rang Monday right after my class. It was Todd, wanting to know if I could come to the station to discuss new developments in the case.
“I’ll be right there,” I said. I didn’t like to admit that I suddenly felt like it was beautiful day.
The room we sat in this time had a window, some comfortable chairs, and a potted plant, almost like a small living room. It made a nice change from the interrogation room we’d been in a few times.
“How was your weekend?” Todd asked.
“Quiet,” I said. “I graded papers and did some editing. On Sunday I went up to my favorite spot in the mountains. The weather’s warmed up so much now that it was a lovely day.”
“You like to go hiking?”
“I like a leisurely stroll through the forest. I don’t really do mountain climbing.”
“Do you like camping?”
“Yeah, I like that, too.” The look of interest in his eyes was flattering but I was wary now. If he was trying to charm me into falling for him to boost his own ego or whatever, it wasn’t going to work.
“I thought you had something to tell me about the case,” I said.
“Right, right. Sorry. I thought you’d like to know about Kevin Schmidt.”
“Yes, I would. What happened?”
“Turns out his job is on the line. The college is not in the best of shape financially, and a lot of it has to do with decisions Kevin made. He thought he might get back into the good graces of the powers-that-be if he was able to arrange the sale of the bookstore to the college.”
“Did he believe the story about the forged deed?”
“Oh yes. Completely. He thought it would give him leverage over Frank.”
“It’s hard to believe he would admit to trying to blackmail Frank. That’s a crime, isn’t it?”
“Well, I think he was anxious to avoid being charged with murder. Besides, he admitted it without really meaning to do so. Interrogation is an art form. You get good at getting the information you need without the person realizing what they are letting out.”
“And will he get in trouble for blackmail now?”
“It would be hard to prosecute him for it. For one thing, it didn’t work.”
“Would he have reason to murder Frank?”
“Not unless he thought whoever would own the store after Frank would be willing to sell. And even then…I don’t know if he was that desperate to keep his job, or even if he was positive that getting that building for the college would be enough to impress his superiors.”
“Does he have an alibi?”
“No. He says he was in his office alone during the fatal hour. He might have been. No one remembers him being there or not. He could easily have left his office, gone over to the store, shot Frank, and come back to the office. It’s unlikely anyone would remember seeing him out and about at that time. What’s more, he has a gun registered to him that he claims was stolen a month ago.”
“And can you tell if it was?”
“Well, he certainly file
d a report on a stolen gun a month ago. But then if he were planning to use it to commit murder, he might claim it was stolen, use it, and then dispose of it afterwards.”
“So will you arrest him?”
“There’s not enough evidence against him. His motive is very weak and there’s nothing to tie him to the murder.”
“Will it matter if the property deed is proven to be a forgery?”
“It isn’t. We got word back from the lab this morning. There’s an almost undetectable watermark in the paper from the land company—almost impossible to reproduce. The deed is definitely genuine. It looks as if John’s brother fabricated the entire tale.”
“And Frank knew it wasn’t true,” I concluded. “That’s why he wasn’t intimidated. I remember hearing him say, ‘That’s an empty threat.’ That must have been what he was referring to.”
“Most likely,” agreed Todd.
“Any other leads, then?”
“I’m afraid not. There’s always the possibility that someone will come forward with something new.”
“And if they don’t? Will it be a cold case?”
“Eventually, if there are no more leads it will become a cold case, yes.”
“Poor Frank,” I murmured. “It seems like someone should be held accountable.”
“They will. Hopefully in this world in the not-too-distant future, but assuredly in the next world.”
I nodded. “I know.” I could feel my eyes filling with tears.
“I’m not going to give up, Katrina,” said Todd, leaning forward. “If it takes weeks or months, I’m going to keep trying.”
“‘Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night’ will keep you from your duty, huh?” I said, trying for a lighter note. “Except of course that you’re not a postal worker, and that’s not even an official slogan for the post office.” Todd wrinkled his forehead. “I don’t like misattributed quotes,” I explained.
Todd looked at me intently for another minute and then said, “Can I ask you a question? Why are you just an adjunct professor? You are extremely knowledgeable, you have wide experience, and I’ve seen you teach—you make the subject come alive. You ought to be a professor at a top university.”
Brought to Book Page 9