My phone buzzed with a call from Dr. Grant. Colbert and Cramer were on his case again and wanted updates. From his tone I assumed Grant was flushed and agitated. I assured him I would be on campus later in the day and remembered the email I’d chosen to ignore. Kim sympathized and we tried to come up with some creative ways for me to respond and still keep my job.
CHAPTER 16
We walked back toward the theater. Gracie Meem was the last Board member on the list, and my Google search indicated she was also a civil servant. She had asked to meet with us at the theater rather than the office building. Google hadn’t given me much other than her address and she was on the Board. She had no web page, no picture or credits, and I wasn’t sure what to expect.
She was our age or a little younger and what most men would call “a looker” with a heart-shaped face, big blue eyes and easy smile, thick, wavy, blonde hair to her shoulders, and curves that looked sculpted to perfection even in her demure shirt and skirt. She wasn’t flaunting her charms. She didn’t have to. Kim later explained her looks with shape wear and a bit of jealousy, but even with help from shape wear, my body never looked like that.
“Hi, I’m Gracie. Adelaide described you both very well. Kim and Sheridan, right?” We nodded and she continued, “She also said you had the grand tour so why don’t we go into the one office here.”
She didn’t wait for a response. We followed her as she walked in the opposite direction from where we’d been before. She used a key and opened the door to what was obviously Thompson’s office. She pulled the desk chair around to where two other chairs were and motioned for us to sit down.
“Thank you for meeting with us today. We’re talking to people who knew Mr. Thompson to help figure out who killed him.”
While Kim went on about our purposes I looked around the room. The walls were a fairly good match for the background on his website. A less faded square in one spot made me think something had been taken down. I tuned in to what Gracie was sharing.
“… my sister. I never had any interest in the theater or Will. I did the books and controlled the money. Needless to say, Will didn’t like me much and I avoided him.”
“So you knew Will even before all this?” Kim waved her arm to indicate the theater.
“Yes, of course.” She shook her head and leaned forward. “I never could get a handle on him. One day he was charming, the next obnoxious and arrogant. His demeanor changed with the situation almost like he was playing different parts without giving the others in the play a copy of the script. Aren’t you psychologists or something like that? What do you call that?”
“I’m not sure. Neither of us ever met him. We’re trying to get as much information about him as possible. That’s why we are asking questions about him and the theater.”
It occurred to me that by the time we were through we might have enough information for a psychological autopsy, although in this case he wasn’t the perpetrator, but the victim. I also realized she had checked our backgrounds in preparation for this meeting.
“Makes sense. Once he and Honey married, I only saw them at family gatherings. Thankfully, he had the good sense not to keep asking me out.”
At Kim’s startled expression, Gracie explained, “Yes, he dated me first, then Honey. He never stopped flirting with me though. Behaved badly even at their wedding.” She shook her head again.
“Anyway, as I was saying, I didn’t see him or Honey much. Holidays and such, they seemed like the perfect couple and everyone was thrilled when Honey got pregnant. My parents were ecstatic. When I’d see them all, they seemed like the perfect family – loving parents, two beautiful children and the family mutt. I guess Tommy was about three years old when Will mentioned he was helping with the community theater group a couple nights a week. My father made a few pointed comments about hospitals and other community activities instead of theater, but it was ‘community’ so he let it go, at least until the next time.”
“Your father wasn’t thrilled with the theater idea? Didn’t he end up funding all this?”
“No, he wasn’t. He has some antiquated ideas of the kinds of people involved in theater. For all the furnishings, though, this isn’t really ‘theater’ – it’s community people having fun and supporting the arts in the community. He finally relented after Honey asked him – no – pleaded with him. The deal was I would be on the Board as a trustee more or less and control the money.”
“I get the sense that your father didn’t trust Will. Is that accurate?”
“My father doesn’t trust easily. Even in high school, he was convinced boys asked us out because of the family money. Will’s odd behaviors, his clothes choice, his interactions all made it even less likely my father would trust him. In the end though, my father loves my sister and trusts me to handle the money.”
“You both worked for the city. Did you interact with him in that capacity?”
“Not really. Not if I could help it. I work in the tax office. I don’t need to work, but staying home was not my cup of tea. I like numbers and took a few business classes so I’m good at keeping books. On occasion, Will’s unit on planning would ask for reports or information and I prepared them, but, no I didn’t interact with him at all. Truth be told, given he’d been involved with both Honey and me, I decided when they got married the less contact I had with Will, the better. I would never do anything to hurt my sister.”
“Thank you for sharing that information. Gracie, who do you think might have wanted to see Will dead?”
“I’m guessing you mean besides the person they arrested – Isaac?”
When we nodded, she continued, “Unfortunately, I never met Isaac or most of the other actors. Adelaide became very silent and stopped singing his praises. Still, as far as I know, she never maligned Will and she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Jule Gorganz could certainly demonstrate his disgust and command of profanity among the other members of the Board. Geoff couldn’t stand him either. Al was usually too busy hitting on women, myself included. So of the Board members, Jule or Geoff.”
She hesitated and then continued. “One woman did complain about not getting a part and seemed a bit over the edge – she’s also at Cold Creek College. Did you see her earlier when you visited with Adelaide? I heard from the receptionist she was here but left. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”
“No we didn’t see her and Adelaide didn’t mention her. Maybe it was after we left. Did Adelaide mention the accident on the stage?”
“Something about needing to get Geoff over to work on the staging. What happened?”
As we described the incident, Gracie’s eyebrows raised and her mouth turned down. She shook her head. “Nothing like that’s happened before. I better check on liability insurance.”
“One last question and then we’ll let you go. With Will gone, what will happen to the theater?”
“That might surprise you. As much as he fought the idea to begin with, my father has gotten many accolades for his support of the theater. So, as the saying goes, the show will go on. The Board will need to select a new Director and a new Chair. My father has suggested they be determined with input from the community, including those who have been involved for the past three years.”
“Who do you think it will be?”
“Adelaide has the respect of many, after all this was her baby. I’d be surprised if she didn’t get one of the positions, though I’m not sure which one she’d want.”
That didn’t match what Adelaide had told us. Perhaps Gracie didn’t know it had been settled yet or Adelaide was wishful thinking. We stood up and Gracie shook our hands and walked us out.
Interviews over, we needed to get back to campus. I needed to prep for my afternoon seminar. We grabbed sandwiches to go and I ate mine as I drove. It was a pleasant day, no ice or snow, and not a lot of traffic. There was no highway from Altavista to Cold Creek and the roads, though paved, were reminiscent of country roads.
Kim and I hashed out what we h
ad learned. To me, it didn’t seem like we knew much more than when we started. Nobody liked Thompson and some didn’t trust him. Many people knew about the gun, and anyone had access to it. What niggled at my brain was motive. Could this have been an accident? Thompson showing someone the gun without the safety on, it went off and the person panicked? Certainly wouldn’t be the first time. But it wouldn’t explain the possible blunt instrument unless something was in the way when he collapsed.
I floated that idea to Kim and she nodded. She commented on Gracie’s question of diagnosis and personality disorder was as close as we could get. She started to suggest something else and the car lurched and started to swerve. I focused on keeping us on the road or at least the shoulder. The dashboard light signaled low tire pressure and confirmed what I already suspected – a blowout.
“Sher, what happened?”
I groaned as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Tire blowout I think. I must have picked up something – you know, glass or a screw. Glad I wasn’t driving on a highway when it happened.”
With a chuckle, I added, “So, do you know how to change a tire?”
Her expression of horror was priceless. I shook my head, popped the trunk, and got out to see what the damages were. Rear tire, completely flat. I opened the trunk and of course, there was stuff in there I didn’t even remember and all in the way of the spare and I hoped directions.
“Sher, don’t you have AAA? If I can get a signal, I could call for you.”
“I do. The tag with my membership number is on my key ring. Don’t go too far for that signal. I don’t want to have to go looking for you.”
Although I teased her, I had a not so good feeling about the isolated stretch of road and the blowout. I’d only had one before, when my car was packed for my move back home, it was hot outside, and I’d been upset as I left my job and marriage behind. Bad memories may have accounted for my anxiety this time. Except the car wasn’t overloaded, it wasn’t hot, and these were new tires.
I stashed the extra jackets, Tupperware, and books in the back seat. I tried not to think about what could be growing in the containers. I certainly didn’t remember putting them in the trunk and chose not to investigate if they were clean or gross. Kim walked first in one direction and then the other, a little further each time, but still in sight.
As I reached the spare, I was relieved to see the instructions and pulled out all the parts and pieces to put the jack together. I groaned when I realized the shoulder – not paved – might be too soft for the jack.
“Sher, I know you’re not supposed to drive on a flat and all, but couldn’t we move a little ways down the road? I can see where the hill crests up ahead. Maybe we can get a signal up there.”
I nodded. One thing for sure, I had to get to some place where I could be off the road itself with a shoulder that provided solid ground. All the tire and jack parts back in the trunk, I slowly drove the car forward, cringing at the damage I was doing to the rim.
“Stop! I got a signal!”
Kim handed me the phone and I gave AAA all the information I had. No mile markers on this state road, but also not a lot options for where we could be. Call completed, I maneuvered as much as I could to the side without going off the pavement. I remembered there were flares and a flashlight in the trunk somewhere. Kim helped me move the other stuff into the back seat and I set up the single flare I found.
The shadows from the trees gave the place an eerie feel. I gripped the flashlight and we locked ourselves in the car to wait. Rescue came in the form of a tow truck and young man from AAA, who changed the flat for the fake tire. With warnings not to drive too fast or too far on the poor excuse for a tire, he pulled out and turned back toward Cold Creek.
We made sure we weren’t leaving anything behind and drove the rest of the way back to Cold Creek. First stop, T&J’s to get the tire taken care of, complete with a new rim and hubcap, not to mention teasing about my recurring car troubles. I used their loaner to get us to the college with no time to prep for my class and late besides. Life happens.
CHAPTER 17
Brett called right after I finished my class. He had checked with the police chief about Al Jackson. One of the students not from the Cold Creek area, Al had gone home for a family emergency, a grandparent hospitalized. The chief had verified what Al and his parents reported with the hospital. His sudden absence had nothing to do with Thompson’s murder.
Brett asked how our meetings had gone. I mentioned our visit with Adelaide and the fallen beam. From his silence and “be careful,” I could tell he didn’t think it was coincidental either. Then I told him about our meetings with Broderick, Fleisch and Gracie Meem. I explained the text about Briana Dooley and he agreed to pass the information on to the Altavista police chief and see what he could find out.
To his “anything else?” I described our drive home with the blowout.
“Sher, I don’t believe in coincidences. You know that. Are you going to get your car soon? Can you call me when you get there so I can ask Jake a few questions?”
I smiled, pleased he’d asked instead of taking over. “I don’t get how I had a blowout either. I’ll be leaving here in a few. I have to get the loaner back to them before they close. I’ll call you from there.”
We chatted a little more. I made sure I had everything all set for the morning and started out the door. Dr. Grant about plowed me over, his face red and eyes glaring.
“Sheridan! Cramer and Colbert are breathing down my neck. What are you doing to resolve this issue? They want answers.” He huffed and puffed from the exertion of the short walk to my office.
“Look Jim, this is an Altavista case. Yes, Isaac is a student here but he’s innocent. These things take time and if Cramer and Colbert think the process is slow, imagine how Isaac feels, sitting in jail, or his family. I don’t know what they’re so upset about anyway. There hasn’t been any mention of the murder, Isaac, or Cold Creek College since last week.” Unfortunately, with the trial scheduled for next week, the murder would again be big news. I’d deal with it when the time came.
Dr. Grant shook his head and opened his mouth and closed it again. Luckily, no words came out. He turned and walked away. I took the opportunity to make a hasty exit.
Jake was at the counter when I walked in and returned the loaner keys. I expected him to tease me again, but the usual twinkle in his eyes wasn’t there.
“Any problems with the loaner? Everything okay?”
“No problems. My car ready? If so, I’ll get out of your hair. You’re pretty busy today.”
“Not really busy, just puzzled.” He took a deep breath and continued, “Most blowouts occur in the heat and with old tires. When we examined your tire, it was pretty easy to find the hole in the tire. We expected that. What puzzles us is it looks like something very sharp made a very neat incision, without puncturing the tire wall. Then you probably hit a rock or pot hole and the spot tore more. The rest of the hole is consistent with tear.”
“So I must have driven over a piece of glass?”
He looked down before he answered. “Did you drive through a lot of broken glass?”
My grimace must have answered his question.
“I didn’t think so. The tire had a number of other cuts in various spots. Dr. Hendley, any one of those weakened spots could have resulted in a blowout.”
As I digested what he was telling me – someone had booby-trapped my tire to blow out – I pulled out my phone and clicked on Brett’s name. When he answered, I handed my phone to Jake.
“Yes, Detective, I’m pretty sure we know what caused the blowout, sir.” I tuned out while he repeated the explanation and wondered about the other tires. I no sooner had the thought and I heard Jake say, “Yes, sir. Once we found the slits in the first tire, we checked the other three. No slits or other problems. Probably figured if more than one tire blew out it would be a dead giveaway they’d been tampered with.”
That was a relief. Jake finished his conv
ersation with Brett and handed me back the phone.
“Sher, where was your car while you were in Altavista?”
“I parked at the theater building and we walked to the other meetings and to get a coffee. It didn’t make sense to move it.”
“Hmmm. So it was there all morning. Not likely to help, but you need to call and report the vandalism. Jake is going to write up a report for you, along with pictures of the hole and other slits.”
“Okay, I can do that when I get home. Jake is bouncing on his feet here. It’s closing time.” We ended our conversation. Jake handed me a file folder, my bill, and my keys.
At home, I brought all the stuff we’d stuck in the back seat into house. Even though the Tupperware hadn’t become a site for producing germ warfare or penicillin, I opted for a wash anyway. I called the Altavista Police Department and explained the problem with my tire. The dispatcher’s part of the conversation was mostly “uh huh,” followed by instructing me to send the report and photos to a fax number.
I grabbed a bottle of water and leashed Charlie for a run in the park. I needed to clear my head before contemplating dinner. The dampness in the air made it feel colder than indicated by the thermostat on my dashboard. As I warmed up, I knew this was going to be a shorter run than usual. The chill seeped into my bones.
The park was my favorite place to run. There were trails as well as open fields and playgrounds where several groups of children were playing and teenaged guys were tossing around a football. Their energetic laughter and excitement made me laugh as I ran past, Charlie right beside me.
My plan didn’t include a stop at a bench at the next field, but Charlie had other ideas. A creature of habit much like the rest of us, she pulled me over to the bench farthest away from other people. That bench often provided me a rest spot and opportunity to think things through. As I sat down, I loved on Charlie.
Murder in the Theater (Cold Creek Book 4) Page 9