Running on Envy

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Running on Envy Page 10

by Felicity Nisbet


  As MacGregor and I made our way through the group of athletes, meeting each and every one of them, we had our observation skills on full alert for such things as sleeplessness, level of anxiety, guilty eyes, and all around unpleasant demeanor. The only one to meet the latter criterion was Coach West. Fortunately his assistant coach, Thomas Anders, was a much more pleasant man, which explained why the team members seemed to migrate toward him for help or answers to questions.

  “Why did you ask about their times on those particular races?” I asked MacGregor when we were away from the boys. “What about the shorter races? The sprints?”

  “Judging from the distance we ran in the park, the runner runs longer distances. I doubt he was a sprinter or he wouldn’t have kept gaining distance on me. We’ll look at everyone, but taking into consideration speed and endurance, we’ll focus first on the middle distance runners. If we don’t find our culprit there, we’ll expand to longer races such as the five thousand meters.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “They do seem like a nice group of lads though.”

  “Just keep focusing on the fact that one of them is a kidnapper.”

  He stopped walking and waited for me to notice and stop as well. I turned to face him. “You sound very certain of that, McNair.”

  “I do?”

  “Aye. You said it with great certainty.”

  “Then I suppose I am.”

  “Sensing energy, are you now, lassie?”

  “That’s your department, Professor MacGregor. I just go with the flow and let things come to me.”

  “Well, if my wee detective brain is working at all, I’d have to say something just did. “

  “Then we’d best go meet the rest of the runners.”

  There were over thirty-five members of the track and field team, including those who were not there. “Any way to narrow it down?” I asked MacGregor.

  He winced. “I thought I had when I established the advanced running shoes they wear. And the events he’s most likely to run.”

  “How about matching the shoe to the prints?”

  “Coppers already tried,” MacGregor said. “They’re all wearing the same brand.”

  “Size?”

  “Too similar to make a difference.”

  “Size of runners?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve eliminated a handful who are shorter or taller than the rest, but the majority of them meet my estimate.”

  “It was a thought.”

  “A good one too.” He leaned down and gave me a soft kiss. “I checked six off my list. And I’ve marked the most likely twelve as determined by events. That’s better than nothing.”

  “True. And it’s good to know that Ben Blaine has his people on it.”

  “Aye, he does that. Apparently he has upwards of twenty people questioning everyone in the athletic program.”

  “But not focusing on the track and field team.”

  “He’s not, but Jack and Rochelle are.”

  “Good to know since time is not on our side.”

  “Aye, true, McNair, but the fact that the runners all wear similar shoes, confirms in my mind that we’re on the right track—no pun intended.”

  I rolled my eyes. “That indicates it was most likely someone from the school. Were the shoes donated?”

  “According to Harvey, a shoe manufacturing company donated several pairs of running shoes to the school. They were distributed among the runners first. What was left went to some of the soccer players.”

  “It’s still likely it’s someone on the track team though.”

  “I agree. We’re making progress, McNair. It may not feel like it, but we are.” He took my hand and we headed back to the crowd for more mingling.

  When Josh found us, he was smiling from ear to ear. For a moment I thought he might elect to attend this college instead of Charlie and MacGregor’s.

  “You like it here.” MacGregor had noticed the same thing.

  “The guys are pretty nice, especially Rob. He introduced me to several of the runners.”

  “So, you feel comfortable training with them for a few days?”

  “Sure. But that’s not why I’m smiling.”

  “Why are you smiling?” I asked.

  “I found out something. I don’t know about the six guys who took off early for vacation, but there are three guys who didn’t show up because they’re sick.”

  I waited for him to continue. I didn’t want to point out that we were already aware of that.

  “And some of the guys were talking like they’re not really sick.”

  “And?” MacGregor asked.

  “And I started thinking maybe they’re not here because they don’t wanna be because they know we’re looking for them.”

  “How would they know that?”

  “Not sure.” He groaned. “I guess that doesn’t work, but maybe they’re avoiding the police.”

  “The police would go to their homes or dorms to question them.” MacGregor slipped an arm across Josh’s shoulder. “But you’re thinking like a detective. Anything else? Why did the guys think they weren’t really sick?”

  “They said a couple of them were out partying and didn’t show up because of hangovers, and they figure the other one was out late with his girlfriend. Apparently she’s really hot and they think he sneaks her into the dorm at night. Anyway, it doesn’t sound like they were sick like they said.”

  “Good information,” I encouraged. “Exactly the kind we’re looking for.”

  “Oh, and one guy showed up this morning but left because he pulled a hamstring.”

  “Thanks, Josh.” MacGregor too wanted to encourage him. “Keep this up on Monday when you train with the guys. Anything you can learn like that could be helpful. Focus on the middle distance and possibly the long distance runners more than the sprinters.”

  “Okay. I’m better at those anyway. I doubt I can keep up with these guys, but it will be interesting to see how they train. Maybe I should stick around for a while. I think this goes on for most of the day. I know it would look weird for you to stay all day, but I could.”

  “You’d be comfortable doing that?”

  He nodded. “Sure. I think I’ve got a good cover.” He really was enjoying this. It was a lot better than hiding out in my island cottage doing all of his investigating and research on a computer.

  Charlie agreed that it was an excellent idea. We would head out and return for him in the mid afternoon. By then we would have had a chance to interview Greg Rallings. And maybe I’d even have been able to spend a few minutes with my daughter.

  We managed to watch a brief soccer demonstration and then stayed for the first round of track demonstrations which gave MacGregor a chance to observe the runners’ forms. At the completion of the fifteen hundred meter race, Charlie and I looked at him expectantly.

  He shook his head. “Sorry, but short of handing each of the runners a baby to hold while they run, I won’t be identifying our runner today.”

  When we returned to Charlie’s, Holly and Matt were nowhere to be found. I sent Matt a simple text. A single question mark. He promptly texted back, “Be back in an hour?” His question mark told me not to count on it. He was obviously not the one in charge.

  “Let’s get over to the Elliots’,” I suggested. “We can go on the pretense that we’re asking after them and to see if they’ve thought of anyone else to add to their list. Greg Rallings’ car is still there so we can ask him our questions.”

  “Shall we call first?” Charlie asked.

  “No.”

  “Testy are you then, lassie?” My father knew my moods well.

  “Sorry, I thought the kids would be back, and I’d at least get to look at my daughter.” I was quickly struck with a sharp pang of guilt. We were working on a kidnapping case after all. Right across the street, there were parents who were wondering if they’d ever get to look at their daughter again. “I’m sorry. Selfish thought.”

&n
bsp; MacGregor reached for and squeezed my hand. “You miss her, that’s all.”

  I smiled up at him, appreciative of his understanding. “Shall we go then?”

  “I think you and Charlie should. It won’t feel as overwhelming with only two of you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Not sure. Stop in and talk to Maureen? Perhaps go back and retrace my steps from yesterday?”

  Again? Something was bothering him, something that he wasn’t willing to talk about yet, no doubt for fear that the talking might jostle it in the wrong direction.

  While MacGregor headed for the park, Charlie and I continued in the direction of the Elliots’.

  “She’ll come around, lass.”

  “I know, Charlie. It’s just hard. And I don’t want her to take it out—”

  “Malcolm can handle it, assuming you were going to say that you don’t want her taking out her disappointment and anger on him.”

  “Something like that. I was just thinking about how Jillian reacts to Carter.”

  “She’s not so fond of him.”

  “I think MacGregor is going to ask Maureen if she has gleaned anything from Jillian regarding the relationship of the three adults. Including if she knows how Jillian felt about Carter and if it’s changed since he and her mother got married.”

  “Any insight is helpful.” Charlie winked. “Even if for personal reasons.”

  I wasn’t about to deny that. Anything that would be useful in easing the relationship between my daughter and my future husband, I was open to hearing. “So, where did you go off to while we were talking to the track and field team?”

  “Och, just meeting some of the faculty members. There’s a good chance the person who put the young runner up to it is a faculty member after all.”

  “How did you go about that?”

  “I only mentioned I have a grandson interested in the college and they were all over me.” Ah, so it seemed that, despite having plenty of grandchildren of his own, Charlie was enjoying playing Josh’s grandfather as well.

  “Anyone you’re suspicious of?”

  “Of the ones I spoke to, only one.”

  “Really? That’s something. Who?”

  “Coach Jim West.”

  “Because of his dour mood?”

  “Aye. Apparently he’s usually more pleasant. Something must be heavily weighing on him for him to maintain that mood during a college fete where they’re trying to recruit applicants.”

  “Marital spat?”

  “I dinna ken, lassie, but I intend to find out.”

  Of course he did. “Anything else on the Navigator case?”

  “I spoke with my men who are tailing the Greens. One thing of interest has me believing we’re getting closer.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Apparently Mike’s wife Val met George’s ex-wife Marsha for a cup of coffee this morning.”

  “I assume your men managed to eavesdrop?”

  “Och, aye.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s clear that Val and Marsha are good friends, possibly bonded by their abhorrence of George’s current wife, Judy.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “No, but what is odd is that they’re both convinced that George Green is still in love with Marsha.”

  I stopped walking as if that would enhance my hearing ability. “His ex-wife?”

  “Aye.”

  “If that’s the case, then why would he have divorced her?”

  “Precisely.”

  I had the exact same question about Greg Rallings and Shelby Elliot. If they were still so close that they clung to each other over the kidnapping of her baby, why had they divorced?

  How had I not noticed the first time I met him? He too had blue eyes. Clearly Shelby Elliot did not have the same aversion to blue eyes on men that I did. The two husbands could have passed for brothers. Carter was only slightly shorter and his hair was darker, but he resembled Greg simply in his carriage and presence. They wore similar beige cotton slacks and golf shirts with beige V-neck sweaters over them. I wondered if that came from being lifelong friends.

  Shelby was dressed in loose-fitting jeans and a grey turtleneck with a matching sweatshirt over it. Comfort clothes. Her lush golden hair was somewhat disheveled, still wavy which confirmed my belief that the waves were natural. Her face was pale and puffy, her eyes red and swollen and she wore no makeup. Still she was one of the most strikingly beautiful women I had ever seen. And despite her deep sadness and apparent neediness, there was something vibrantly sensual about her.

  We went through the concerned and courteous questions first. It had been a sleepless night for all of them. Even Jillian who had remained in her rose bud and heart pajamas had swollen red eyes and held on tightly to her coffee.

  “The police haven’t found out anything.” Shelby’s voice was bordering on hysteria. “Not a single lead has panned out.”

  “And there hasn’t been a ransom call. We were hoping there would be,” Carter said, his arm wrapped tightly around Shelby’s shoulder.

  “Did you learn anything at the college fair?” Shelby asked.

  “We’ve narrowed the list of potential perpetrators,” I said. “Malcolm eliminated some simply based on their sizes. He’s also focusing on runners who he thinks would have the speed and endurance to have run that fast and that far.”

  “How many are there?” Greg asked.

  “All together? Around thirty-eight.”

  “Thirty-eight?”

  “Apparently track and field is very popular at the college. But we’ve narrowed the list somewhat and we’ll continue to do so,” Charlie said. “And Josh is still out there.”

  “He is?” Jillian asked. “What’s he doing? I mean, he really works with you and stuff?” Was there interest there despite the circumstances?

  “He does. He’ll stay for the entire fair. He’s meeting the runners, getting to know them, asking questions, but mostly listening.”

  “You’ve trained him to do that?” Carter asked.

  “He’s been working with us since we—” I did not want to get into the details of Josh’s rescue. “Since he came to live with us. He’s quite good at it.”

  “Did you learn anything? Anything at all?”

  “The police will be checking alibis. That will narrow the list some more,” Charlie said.“And we’ll be meeting some of the students who didn’t make it to the fair. Some were out sick. Another pulled his hamstring this morning. We’ll follow up with all of them. The police are interviewing every athlete in the program as well.” Charlie too wanted to give them hope. The kind that was more substantial than our intuition.

  “We’re focusing on the most likely runners first,” I said.

  “How do you know which those would be?” Greg asked.

  Was he so distracted that he’d missed my earlier explanation? Understandable under the circumstances. “Malcolm is basing it on speed and endurance and which events they run.”

  “He’s a physics professor,” Shelby explained, apparently more alert than Greg seemed to be.

  “I see.”

  “And we’re focusing first on runners, not the participants in the field events. We’re giving it our full attention,” I assured them.

  “What about your other case?” Carter asked. “Didn’t you say you had another case, a life-threatening one?”

  “Aye, we’re working on that as well. But I’ve put my other men on it. I have them tailing all the suspects so I feel more comfortable helping Malcolm and Jenny with this case.”

  “Thank you. We really appreciate that,” Carter said, glancing at those he considered to be his family members as he spoke for all of them.

  “You might consider offering a reward to anyone who can lead us to the kidnapper,” Charlie suggested.

  “A reward?” Shelby asked.

  “It is often helpful. People who think they don’t know anything are suddenly wracking their b
rains for clues and often come up with one,” I explained. “Many are false but all it takes is one legitimate one.”

  “Of course,” Carter said. He cringed and shook his head. “I wish I had more money available right now. Would twenty-five thousand be helpful?”

  “Anything is,” Charlie said.

  “I can put up twenty-five as well,” Greg said. “Possibly a little more. I’ll check my accounts.”

  “Excellent.” Charlie glanced out the window at the group of reporters that was still hovering around the house. “I’ll let the press know as soon as we leave here. They’ll get the word out quickly.”

  “Thank you,” Shelby said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  “You can thank us when we find Ally for you,” Charlie said.

  “Can I get you some coffee?” Greg offered. Obviously he needed some.

  Charlie and I glanced at each other. We accepted the offer, not because we actually wanted coffee, but in order to see how comfortable Greg Rallings was in his ex-wife’s home. Considering that he was the one to make a fresh pot and serve us, we determined that he was very comfortable.

  “Have you come up with any other names?” Charlie asked. “Of people who have been on your property recently?”

  “To tell you the truth, we haven’t really been thinking about that,” Carter answered. “All we can think about is—”

  “I understand. But any tips you can give us could help. You’re certain there’s no one who would wish to cause you harm?”

  “No one.”

  Charlie turned to look Greg Rallings directly in the eye. “What about you, Greg?”

  There was no mistaking Charlie’s meaning, at least from my perspective, but then I could read Charlie easily. Either Greg Rallings was not reading him clearly or he was ignoring his insinuation.

  “No one would want to harm Carter and Shelby. They’re wonderful people. Everyone they know is very fond of them.”

  “Perhaps someone is envious of them? What they have together? Their relationship?”

 

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