“I slept on the damn couch!”
“How is he supposed to know that? He saw your truck in her driveway.”
“Why this guy has to figure into my life either way is pissing me off.”
Ellie really couldn’t agree more. “He’s pulling strings, trying to make us dance. Since I don’t understand what he wants, I have no idea what to do.”
* * *
MacIntosh always had a way of getting to the point.
The idea Jason could be the target wasn’t his favorite, but he’d learned long ago he couldn’t control the universe, and maybe he was happier with that than if she was the target. He was protective even if Ellie didn’t need it.
“I don’t really care who he’s interested in, he’s not exactly our best friend.” The beer was cold, the scenery great, and he was serious; he’d just live on this boat. Forget having a house. Why the hell did anyone who had this amount of money work?
Answer to a question that had already been discussed.
In a day Jason would be bored, so would Grasso. For that matter, he doubted if Ellie won the lottery she’d quit her job either.
“Montoya thinks he isn’t a plotter, but an opportunist. Pretty girl comes in, so just buy her a lot of drinks, and instant victim. Old guy, buy him some beers, and victim two. We don’t know who victim three is, but maybe our guy crashed a frat party or something and just picked out the one weaving on his feet near the keg. The vague descriptions we have of the killer say he’s young.”
Ellie considered her glass. “What if he’s a bartender?”
Grasso nodded right away. “If anyone can spot someone overindulging, it would be the person serving them. In this fine state, it doesn’t narrow the field very much. There’s a tavern on about every corner.”
That was very true. “I’m pretty grateful for that,” Jason pointed out. “Go Wisconsin. Not a bad theory. Unless he just hangs out in some place. If he’s a regular, he might know just who sometimes goes overboard, offer a friendly ride home, and it turns out not to be friendly at all.”
“If he hangs you in a park, I’d say not.” Georgia Lukens adapted to the less-than-relaxing conversation well, but then again, she would. He heard some crazy stuff on a regular basis, but he could only imagine what she heard. If Grasso had chosen a different date, then maybe they wouldn’t be able to talk about this kind of subject. Luckily Lukens was not put off by the chosen topic. He commented, “He’s methodical anyway. Not a single fiber or fingerprint.”
“He’s proving a point.” The breeze brushed back Ellie’s fair hair. “No evidence and so no arrest. We could bring him in if we had the slightest clue as to who he is, but we don’t, and he knows it.”
The caterer came out then to ask if they wanted dinner inside the cabin or out on the deck. Quite frankly, it was out of his sphere, so Jason decided not to comment and let everyone else decide. He’d eaten dinner more times than he could count in a basement that smelled like mildew when growing up, and a stint in the military made his picky level not all that high. There were no yachts in the Santiago legacy. Not even a cheap plastic canoe.
It was interesting realizing that he didn’t resent that at all. Grasso didn’t seem any happier than he was—maybe even less. Money was definitely not everything. Maybe it was just plain ironic that his only real serious relationship had been with a psychology major.
Maybe more ironic that she really hadn’t understood him at all.
The ladies opted for the deck. It really was a nice night.
White tablecloths came out, heavy silver, fine china; the works. If Grasso chose to spend his time chasing criminals instead of sailing off into the sunset, he was at least smart about how he handled this enterprise. Jason could see how little old ladies or starry-eyed newlyweds would eat this up and rent the boat.
Speaking of which, he was happy to see a juicy seared steak, twice-baked potatoes, and a salad that had some exotic ingredients he didn’t recognize but tasted good.
The discussion of murder was at least suspended during their meal. Instead, much to his surprise, the subject of pets came up, and while he had no input whatsoever and Grasso wasn’t much better, Ellie and Lukens seemed to have solid opinions.
“I want a rescue Lab mix someday,” Ellie said, and sounded like she meant it. “They love water and they tend to be good with kids. They aren’t perfect, since they can get protective and bite someone, but in general those are great dogs.”
“Give me a collie,” Lukens argued. “Smart dogs. Such fast learners and so pretty.”
“But if purebred, they are high strung. Plus all that hair everywhere. My sister had one and said once she vacuumed five times in one day when it was shedding.”
“True enough. Quite frankly, those little cairn terriers are great guard dogs, and though very nosy and bossy, really cute.”
It was impossible to stay quiet. Jason said with a bit of what looked like dandelion leaves dangling from his fork, “A what?”
MacIntosh gave him a look that indicated she thought he was a simpleton, which could be warranted. “Ever seen The Wizard of Oz? Toto?”
“Maybe once, I think, when I was five. Those trees tossing apples back at Dorothy and the Scarecrow while talking gave me nightmares. But I do remember what they passed off as a dog. Anything you can pick up and tuck under your arm is not a real dog.”
Lukens took more salad. “Maybe you and I need to explore those nightmares in our next session. I need the recipe for this leafy stuff, whatever it is.”
“Oh, there’s nothing like having dinner with your shrink.”
“Those of us who have a PhD in psychology do not like the term ‘shrink.’”
“Those of us in need of one don’t like it either.” His steak was perfect, medium rare and seared just right. He was doing his best not to eat too fast. The lake was pretty calm too for spring, so the deck had been a good call. The moon was obscured by clouds, but they moved past swiftly like silent, flitting ghosts.
Perhaps he was more poetic than he imagined.
Well, probably not. That was being optimistic. “The salad is really good,” he conceded, “but what are those green things in it? I think they were plucked from someone’s lawn.”
“Don’t ask,” Grasso advised him. “I just eat it, and if it tastes fine, I’ll eat it again. I try to live the simple life.”
“Says the man with the yacht,” Ellie observed dryly.
“I can’t take credit for what my grandfather did.” He took a bite of steak. “Or what my father did. You and I have the same job, remember? This has nothing to do with who I am.”
Jason’s phone vibrated then. Fergusson had sent him a text. He read it quickly, feeling vaguely rude, but they were in the middle of a murder investigation, so Ellie and Grasso would have done exactly the same thing.
“Sorry to ruin the mood,” he said, looking up. “Looks like we might have a name for the third victim.”
Chapter 11
He thought the rose was a nice touch.
He wanted her to know he was thinking about her.
Symbolic yet simple.
The front porch was a breeze. He wasn’t taking any chances there. A few steps, a quick deposit, and he was home free and on his way.
He would like to see how she liked the gift.
* * *
Ashlie Riverton lived in a Greek house on campus. The housemother, who had a grandmotherly air, informed them as they went up a curved staircase to her room that the young woman wasn’t taking it well at all. The woman also had thoroughly examined their credentials. Apparently she took her job seriously.
“She won’t cry, her roommate told me.” The woman shook her head with a look of wisdom on her face. “She needs to grieve.”
Unfortunately Ellie had seen that shell-shocked reaction a few too many times in her life. It came with the territory.
“The girls don’t tell me everything, but they tell me more than I want to know sometimes.” Mrs. Peters sai
d it as they walked through a hallway lined with doors. “I believe Ashlie and Zeke had talked about getting married after graduation. I’m still in shock myself if you want the truth. Boys aren’t allowed in their rooms, so I saw a lot of him down in the common area. What a nice young man. This is her room. Let me tell her why you’re here and ask if she can handle a few questions. Give me just a moment, please.”
“Of course,” Ellie said in a subdued tone. “This is difficult for everyone, even us, but we really do need to talk to her.”
They waited outside and Santiago remarked, “I’ve never been in a sorority house before. Nice.”
“The reason for your first experience isn’t exactly a great one.”
“That’s the damn truth,” he agreed soberly.
Ashlie was a pretty redhead and maybe slightly overweight, but still striking. She shook her head as she sat on her bed, and maybe their visit was useful because she instantly burst into tears. The housemother sat down next to her and put a comforting arm around her shaking shoulders.
She sobbed as she said, “He wouldn’t kill himself. He wouldn’t do that.”
“We know.” Ellie waited for the storm to pass. There wasn’t a place for them to sit so they both just stood there. When she felt Ashlie could talk again, she went on. “We aren’t saying he did anything at all. We are homicide detectives and worried someone did something to him. Can you think back? Is there anyone new and unusual in his life? A friend?”
“No.” She thought it over and sniffled. “No. Well, maybe Jack.”
Ellie suddenly had a bad feeling about this Jack. It happened sometimes. It was like knowing you felt different and finally figured out you had the flu. “What about him? We are going to talk to everyone we can.”
“He hangs out with Jack a lot all of a sudden. They met somehow, I think at a bar close to campus. I don’t even know his last name.”
Santiago asked, “The name of the bar would maybe help us.”
“We all hang out at a place called Huffman’s Pub. But near campus there are all kinds of places. I just don’t know.” She got up, sniffling. “Sorry, I need a tissue. I had to talk to Zeke’s parents this morning … I’ve got finals coming up and I can’t deal with all this. I still don’t really believe it. I feel like I’m sleepwalking.”
When Ashlie went into the bathroom, Santiago said almost under his breath, “I wish I’d just stayed in the car. I’ve seen grown men cry and I shrug that off, but a when a woman gets going … well, I’d just rather be somewhere else. You should have brought Lukens with you instead. She’s worried about finals? Really?”
Ellie had to say, “She’s maybe twenty, suddenly her boyfriend is dead, and detectives are on her doorstep asking questions. I doubt that conversation with his parents was a treat either. She’s not able to change what happened to him. Of course she should worry about her finals. That’s why she’s here.”
He wasn’t without empathy if pushed. He exhaled. “Okay, you’ve made your point. Let’s just find out who Jack is and where can we find him. Maybe he can be helpful.”
Ashlie came out the bathroom with a tissue clutched in her hand, her eyes red and watery. “I don’t know Jack’s last name, but I do know he lives in an apartment close by. Maybe he can help you.”
“Have you met him?”
“Jack?” She shook her head, her nose red and the tissue pressed there. “Not in person, no. Zeke just talked about him now and then. They ran together.”
Ran together? The killer was a jogger, or pretended to be one … the look on Santiago’s face reflected the same connection. A bar and running? Suddenly Zeke was dead.
Ellie consciously inhaled slowly and measured her questions. “Did he ever describe him? Talk about his family? Where he was from?”
“No.” Ashlie started to cry again. “This is so horrible.”
No one was going to disagree with that.
“I hate to ask this, but can we have a picture of Zeke?” Ellie didn’t add that since she was fairly sure crime scene photos wouldn’t help them out, they really needed something that actually looked like him.
Ashlie nodded, but it was like turning the spigot back on. “I’ll text one we took together last week.”
They left with her still sobbing, but luckily Mrs. Peters was able to step into the breach. Walking out into another spring evening that resonated with what might be coming, with hints of early blooming flowers, Santiago muttered darkly, “That sucked. I think I prefer being shot at; that I can handle. Maybe she did need to cry, but I’d really prefer it wasn’t in front of me.”
“You’ve made that clear.” Ellie felt it too. “We help. It just isn’t under pleasant circumstances. So at least we know more about him.”
“Not enough more. God alone knows if his name is really Jack, or there could be a perfectly innocent guy out there jogging down some trail whose name really is Jack. But my gut tells me he decided to target his supposed friend.”
“I’m thinking the same thing.”
“Maybe we should take up running to break this case.”
“Go ahead.” Ellie tried to picture that and failed.
“I walk from the couch into the kitchen to get potato chips and then go back. It was just a thought.”
She’d seen him with his shirt off. He obviously worked out, but was just being a smartass as usual. “He’s going to move on us again to a different spot,” she said as she got into the truck. “It doesn’t matter. We won’t be able to find him.”
Her partner nodded. “I won’t be surprised if he does move, but it would really bother me if we can’t figure him out. We’re better than this.”
It wasn’t that she didn’t disagree, but this wasn’t a usual case. “I think he’s coming at us sideways. This time, according to Montoya, we might be the cause, not just sorting out the effect.”
“That’s so wrong.”
She usually wanted to argue with him, but Ellie felt the same way. “Very wrong.”
“So it’s time to try something different even if it isn’t jogging, which I really didn’t want to do anyway. I’ve tried it. No thanks.”
“I’m afraid we have to talk to this victim’s family. I know you hate it, but you signed on and it is part of the bargain.”
His blue eyes were reflective. “Bargain? Where the fuck is the bargain? I wonder if I’d be good at driving a garbage truck. That’s honest work right there. I can pick up trash cans. It would tone my biceps.”
“I agree. But unfortunately you happen to be good at this, which means I’m stuck with you, and that is unfortunate for me. You can use those driving skills to take us over to interview the victim’s parents.”
“After waiting to talk to Ashlie, it’s getting kind of late for a drive there and back, Ellie.”
She thought it over and reluctantly agreed. She just wanted it over with. “We’ll go first thing tomorrow morning. If those poor people can get some exhausted sleep, then I want them to have it. I think right now we need to follow a thin lead and go to Huffman’s.”
Santiago was typical him. He said, “Good, I need a drink.”
* * *
Huffman’s Pub turned out to be an average college bar. On the dark side, the tables scratched, and the music loud enough you couldn’t talk easily. It smelled like spilled beer and spiced peanuts, and was crowded for just before finals in Jason’s opinion. They edged in and flashed the picture from Ellie’s phone at a harried bartender, who did take the time to at least look at it, but shook his head. “I’m new. Ask Ava. She’s been here since the dawn of time. She’s right over there, waiting tables.”
Ava, with streaked gray hair and a no-nonsense air, was just as busy and glanced at the picture Ellie showed her and nodded while holding a tray of full glasses. “Sure he’s been in here. Did you say detectives? Why?”
“We are investigating his death.”
“Well shit. Are you serious? Let me deliver this tray and I’ll be right back.”
; She did come right back, ignoring a group of students trying to get her attention by waving wildly. She took the phone and studied it. “He was one of the nice ones. Always polite, and believe me, not all of them are. He’s really dead?” She seemed shaken. “I hate that.”
“Really,” Santiago confirmed. “We hate it too. So when was he here last?”
Ava looked like she was thinking about it. “He’s been here recently, but if you’re asking for a specific night, good luck. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast this morning. Sorry, honey. Ask the management for credit card records.”
“Was he with anyone? A tall guy with brown hair?”
“I’m five foot one. They’re all tall to me, and if you notice, the lighting in this place isn’t that great. I’m looking at you right now and I think you’re blond, but I can’t be sure. I only recognize him because he never failed to tip and always called me by name. Most of these yahoos that come in, even on a regular basis, just say, ‘Hey, waitress.’ It’s rude.” She handed back the picture. “This wasn’t a stellar night already, but now I’m really bummed out.”
“Thanks for your help.”
“I didn’t think that would work anyway,” Ellie said as they walked outside. “We gained exactly nothing.”
“Long shot,” he agreed. The parking lot smelled like urine and he had to wonder how many drunken male students chose to just relieve themselves on the asphalt before heading back to campus. “We knew it was.”
The night didn’t get any better.
There was a rose on Ellie’s front porch when they pulled up.
Jason drew his weapon and looked around as she picked it up. She, of course, was pragmatic. “Pretty nice with the pink and white petals. He went to some trouble. I wonder if you can get prints off of something like this. I’ll have to talk to forensics. I don’t see how, but now they can lift them off of human skin, so maybe. Even a partial would help us.”
“You aren’t walking through that door in front of me.” Jason meant it, surveying the quiet-as-usual street. “But you aren’t staying out here either while I check it out.”
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