by Mike Markel
“All right, I understand. What happened at the hearing?”
I could see the gears turning. “How do you know about the hearing? That was supposed to be private.”
I chose not to answer the question. I don’t like people to think we’re having a discussion. “At the hearing, did the university find Lake guilty of rape?”
“I withdrew the complaint.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I realized I couldn’t win. Everyone knew I was going out with him. I didn’t have any evidence he was abusing me—I mean, I never filed any reports with anyone, never went to get medical treatment or anything. So I knew if I said he raped me, nobody would believe me. Besides, he was this famous football player. I was a cheerleader.”
“What difference does that make?”
“The girls weren’t stupid. Most of the players were just like Lake. I mean, fooling around whenever they wanted. Some of them were abusive, too. So if you dated a football player, you knew what you were getting.”
“So you withdrew the complaint against him?”
She looked me straight in the eyes. “That’s right.”
When Ryan and I interview a liar, he likes to give them a couple of chances to tell us the truth. “It must have been very difficult in the room that day,” he said. “You sitting across the table from Lake, all those administrators there. You with nobody there to support you.”
She nodded. “It was a nightmare.”
“Then seeing him on campus afterwards—that must have been uncomfortable,” Ryan said.
She shrugged. “I moved on. What was I going to do?”
“Did you ever talk to your parents about it?” I said. “Your mom? Your dad?”
She shook her head. “They never knew about me dating a player. It was my problem, and I did my best to get through it.”
“Okay, Ms. Templeton,” I said. “Thanks for talking with us. We appreciate your candor. I don’t think we’ll need to bother you again.” I handed her my card. “If you think of something that can help us, give me a call, please.”
She sat there, the sun falling on the shoulders of her tangerine blazer. She nodded but didn’t look up.
We left the house and got in the Charger. I turned to Ryan. “Well, we gave her every opportunity to be straight with us.”
“We certainly did. We even told her we knew she was lying.”
“You don’t see her shooting up with Lake in his tent, do you?”
“Not any more than I see my wife there.”
“But she’s not leveling with us.”
“No, she is not.”
“She didn’t deny that she charged him with rape. She just lied about withdrawing the charge. So it’s about her father, right?”
Ryan nodded. “That’s my guess.”
“Could just be that Dad’s got anger-management issues, right?”
“Or he’s a racist, and she doesn’t want us to talk to him.”
“Or he’s a murderer,” I said, “and that’s why she doesn’t want us to talk to him.”
“Want to head back to the station and see what we can learn about him?”
“I think we should.”
Chapter 6
“Were you able to get contact information on Lake’s foster mother?”
Ryan shook his head. “I tried. Couldn’t find her. Gave it to an admin to try. She couldn’t, either.”
“Talk about a motherless child.” I shook my head. “How about Alicia’s father? What’s his name?”
“Ronald Weber.”
“Is he in the system?”
Ryan studied his screen. “Two DUIs: one from eight years ago, one from four. And there was a road-rage incident five years ago.”
“He hurt anyone?”
“No. It was a misdemeanor.”
“Okay,” I said. “Now we know he has an anger issue. Maybe alcoholism, too. Let’s take a drive.”
Weber Electric was a whitewashed concrete-block building on a short commercial road off of Veterans Parkway. There were three parking spots out front for customers, as well as six spots, alongside the building, for the electricians. Two company trucks were parked behind the building.
The modest reception area, with dark brown industrial carpet squares, fake wood paneling, and fluorescent-tube ceiling lights, looked like it hadn’t been updated in fifty years. There was a receptionist’s grey steel desk with a PC, three tall file cabinets, a couple of plastic stacking chairs, and a small table with a coffee pot and Styrofoam cups. No cream, no sugar, no napkins. No frills.
The receptionist, a thin young man with tight clothing, gelled hair, and thick black plastic-framed glasses, told us Mr. Weber was in his office in the back. He would go tell him we were here. Can he tell him what this was in reference to? No, he can’t.
It took less than a minute for Ronald Weber to appear from the hallway that led back to his office. He was obviously Alicia Templeton’s father. He had the same fine light-brown hair, but it was streaked with grey. Crow’s feet framed his wide-set grey eyes. At forty-five, he looked like a former athlete, with a trim waist and broad shoulders. He shook our hands, repeating our names to be sure he got them correct. “Would you like to come back to my office?”
“Thank you.” We followed him back.
He gestured for us to sit on the two old, nicked wooden chairs in front of his desk. He slid in behind his desk. He closed the open laptop. “How can I help you?”
“We spoke with Alicia a little while ago—”
“Is there anything wrong?”
“No, not at all. Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. It’s about a case. LaKadrian Williams has died, and we wanted to talk to her to better understand what happened.”
Ronald Weber closed his eyes, and his head slumped forward until his chin rested on his white shirt with a Weber Electric logo on the pocket. He didn’t open his eyes. I started to count. I glanced over at Ryan, who was leaning in, trying to figure out what was happening with this guy. At five-Mississippi, Weber opened his eyes and took a deep breath.
“You okay, Mr. Weber?”
He looked deeply sad. “I’m very sorry to hear of his passing.”
“Were you … were you two close?”
“No.” Ronald Weber shook his head. “Not at all. But I know he was a troubled soul, and I’m sorry to learn of his passing.”
I nodded. “We think he died of a drug overdose.”
He was silent a moment. “Did he take his own life?”
“We’re not sure. It’s still very early in the investigation.”
Weber nodded. “And you talked to Alicia because of her relationship with Lake in college?”
“That’s right, sir. She suggested that she and Lake dated a little in college, but that she had no contact with him after that. Is that your understanding?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s not what happened at all.” He exhaled slowly, as if it was going to take him some effort to tell the story more accurately. We don’t get that every day.
“What did happen, Mr. Weber?”
“It was more complicated than that. They were together for over a year. They broke up because he raped her.”
“Oh, my God,” I said. “That’s terrible. I didn’t know that.”
He nodded his appreciation. “Lake started to have serious anger problems. He had become violent with her. And at some point he raped her. It was very traumatic for her, of course, as I’m sure you can understand.”
I could. “Did she go to the police?”
“Her mother and I urged her to, but she refused.”
“Why was that?”
“She couldn’t explain why—at least, she couldn’t explain it in any way her mother and I could understand.”
“So she took no action—I mean, no action against Lake?”
“She agreed to bring it to the university. They began an investigation to determine if they should take any action against him, but the process never got going.
”
“What do you mean?”
He pointed to his chest with his thumb. “It was because of me. I lost my temper and started shouting. I wanted to kill him because of what he had done. I threatened him, got a hand on him. Some of the men in the room restrained me until the campus police came and dragged me off.”
“Then what happened?”
“The police were very professional. They contacted Lake to ask him if he wanted to press charges. He didn’t, and I was released.”
“And with your daughter?”
“She didn’t pursue the investigation at the university, and she didn’t want to have anything to do with me for a long time.”
“Because you embarrassed her at the hearing?”
“I’m sure that was it—I mean, about me. Was that the only reason she decided not to pursue the investigation? I really can’t say. I think what was going on in her mind was that there were two guys in her life who had let her down. Both of the guys violent, out of control. Neither of them acting in her interest. It just kind of overwhelmed her, and she needed some time, and some space.”
“What did the university do then?”
“They let her withdraw from school that semester, and she didn’t attend the next semester, either. But the next fall she returned and completed her degree.”
“Was that the last of her relationship with Lake, as far as you know?”
“Yes, as far as I know. When the baby came—”
“She had a baby? Lake’s baby?” Sometimes I don’t have to fake surprise.
“Yes, she did. We’re Catholic, but her mother and I counseled her against bringing the baby to term. She insisted, and that’s what happened.”
“Did Lake participate in the birth?”
Ronald Weber shook his head. “He had left the university by then. Whether she told him about the pregnancy and her decision, I don’t know. But she never mentioned to me or her mother anything about Lake participating.”
“Does the child live with her and her husband?”
“No, she gave the baby up for adoption. She had it all planned out, and it happened soon after his birth. Almost immediately. She insisted we not see the baby, and I don’t think she saw the baby more than a few times.”
“Has she ever mentioned her son in front of her husband?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“So you have no idea whether the husband even knows about the baby.”
“I have no idea whether she has ever mentioned Lake or the baby to her husband. And unless she tells me, or he does, I will never know.” He paused, his eyes shining with tears. “The last time she needed my help, I let her down. I am determined that will not happen again.”
“Mr. Weber, I’m a little curious. You tell us you shouted at Lake and tried to attack him during that disciplinary hearing at the university. And we know you had a road-rage incident a while back. You had a couple of DUIs, too. Yet you seem very composed as you speak to us …” I let it hang there.
“I am a recovering alcoholic, and I work very hard to stay sober. I attend AA meetings seven days a week. And I have accepted Jesus Christ into my life. Jesus is my Lord and Savior. Without Him, I would not be alive today. I am certain of that. I would not be married, and I would not have my son and my beautiful daughter and her wonderful family—except for Jesus. I am aware that my failures made a terrible time for my daughter even more difficult, and it hurts me every day. Only Jesus’s love and forgiveness enable me to get up and carry on every day.”
I nodded. I hadn’t seen Ronald Weber at any of my AA meetings, but I go to the same one every day, and there must be a couple dozen different sessions around the city.
“Mr. Weber, do you know anyone who would want to hurt LaKadrian Williams?”
Ronald Weber tilted his head, as if he was thinking hard about my question. “The last time I saw Lake was that day at the university. I know he was dismissed from the team and left the university some months after that. But I don’t know what he has been up to—what he had been up to—since then. It must be five or six years ago, now.”
“It’s seven years.” I thought for a second. “You follow the team?”
He smiled, for the first time in the interview. “I love the Cougars.”
“Even after what happened?”
He waved his hand. “I love the game. I used to play, in college. But more important than that, I believe strongly that college athletics gives a lot of kids the opportunity to attend college and get a degree, an opportunity they wouldn’t have otherwise. A kid like Lake? He could have gotten an education here.” His expression turned somber again. “There are a couple of kids every year who can’t make it, but that isn’t the system’s fault. The system is good.”
I spoke. “I’m sorry I interrupted you. I’d asked whether you knew of anyone who wanted to hurt him.”
He shook his head. “No, Detective, I don’t know anyone who would want to hurt him. If you’d asked me that question two years ago, I would have said I did—I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to kill him. But I have forgiven him, forgiven him completely, for what he did to Alicia. I don’t pretend to understand what demons he was wrestling with during his life. But I do know he had demons, and I am thankful, at least, that he is now at peace.”
I stood and offered Ronald Weber my card. “If you can think of anything that can help us understand what happened to Mr. Williams, would you please get in touch?”
He stood, took my card, and nodded.
Ryan and I headed back to our cruiser and got in. I just sat there, gazing at the cinder-block building.
Ryan turned to me. “Problem?”
“I can’t quite get a read on him.”
“That’s not a problem.” Ryan smiled. “That’s a puzzle.”
“What did you see?”
“I saw a guy whose story was a lot closer to what we know happened than his daughter’s.”
“Did you buy it?”
“I’m just browsing at the moment, thank you.” He paused. “What about you? Is he a recovering alcoholic?”
“Yes, he definitely, absolutely might be a recovering alcoholic.”
“Did he get something wrong?”
“No, everything he said was fine. He’s thought about how his actions have hurt people in his life. He feels sorry he hurt them. He’s trying to make amends. And the Jesus thing? That’s part of the AA story. A lot of recovering alcoholics get into religion big time.”
“It makes sense.” Ryan rubbed his cheek. “If you’re the kind of person who can go to the AA meetings, you’re the kind of person who can see the value of an organized religion—the morality, the routine, the rituals.”
“You didn’t hear anything that raises a flag?”
“No, I didn’t. He didn’t say enough for me to tell whether he has a deep understanding of Christianity, but that’s not the point. He could get that all screwed up and still be an honest, sincere guy.”
“It doesn’t bother you that he’s wearing his cross on his sleeve?”
“Not at all. He doesn’t sound like a Catholic, but if he’s into one of the evangelical faiths, that’s what you’re supposed to do. You know, spread the good news. Isn’t that part of the AA Twelve Steps, too?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I’m not really into all the steps. To me, it doesn’t make a lot of sense to say, ‘I’m a total screw-up, so take my advice.’”
He gave me a sad smile. “Well, that raises all kinds of interesting philosophical questions that I’d love to discuss with you sometime.”
“Yeah, that’s gonna happen.” I started up the Charger and drove us back to headquarters. Neither of us said anything on the short drive.
We got settled at our desks. “One thing Weber told us.”
Ryan waited for me to form a thought. He has to do that a lot. “Yeah?”
“I get why Alicia didn’t tell us about a baby.”
“Well, we didn’t think to ask that. We didn’t know she had
a baby with Lake.”
“Obviously, I can see how for some people it increases the shame factor: She was screwing this guy, then he knocks her up. And if race is part of it in her circle, now she’s got herself a mixed-race kid.”
“From what her father said, I couldn’t tell if Lake’s race had any role in her decision to give up the baby.”
I said, “Did you see Ronald Weber as a racist?”
Ryan shook his head. “No, I didn’t. But maybe he’s more evolved now. Or just smooth enough not to let anyone see it.”
I started typing.
Ryan said, “What are you up to?”
I typed a little more. “I’m looking at the birth certificate for Jonathan Weber, who is now almost seven years old.”
“Yeah?”
“The father is listed as LaKadrian Williams.”
“We assume that is true, don’t we? I mean, that he’s the father.”
“Yes, we do,” I said. “But I didn’t assume she would list him.”
“What does it tell you?”
“Not sure. It could be nothing.”
“That’s the great thing about this job,” Ryan said cheerfully. “Everything could be nothing.”
My ex-husband saw all my half-formed ideas as conclusive evidence that I was confused and stupid. Ryan saw them as my appreciation that human behavior is complex and subtle. Sometimes, I let myself think Ryan is right. Most of the time, I think he’s just more polite.
Chapter 7
“Harold called it yet?” the chief said.
“Not as of a minute ago,” I said. It was just after eight, Tuesday morning. Ryan and I were checking in with Chief Murtaugh, like he asked us to. He had given us yesterday to try to figure out whether LaKadrian Williams’s overdose was an accident, suicide, or homicide. Harold Breen, our medical examiner, hadn’t posted the results of his autopsy.
“What’d you get yesterday?”
“We ID’ed the vic: LaKadrian Williams. He was a student at the university, football scholarship, started acting erratically, got kicked off the team, flunked out, became a junkie. His girlfriend, a cheerleader named Alicia Weber, accused him of rape. She went through channels at the university; she never brought it to us. But then she dropped the allegation after her father tried to attack Lake at the university hearing. When we interviewed her yesterday, she downplayed the whole relationship, said they were just going out for a while, then they broke up because of his behavior. Her story didn’t square with the story from Mary Dawson at the university, so we tracked down the father, Ronald Weber. He’s an electrician; owns his own company. He told us his daughter was lying. Lake raped her—as far as the father knows—then she dropped out of school, had Lake’s baby, gave it up for adoption.”