“Thank you, Tyler,” Rina said.
“Nice of you to check in with me beforehand,” Decker said.
“I was going to tell you tonight.”
“Tell me?”
“Ask you. If you don’t want me to do it, I haven’t formally sent out any e-vites.”
“And then I look like an ogre.”
“You are the ogre.”
“You’re pushing it, kiddo.” He exhaled. “How many people?”
“Around fifty.”
“That’s not so bad.”
“Maybe more.”
“I already doubled the amount of people in my head.” Decker sipped coffee. “It’s a nice thing to do, Rina. I’m just not a nice guy. But go ahead and send out the e-vites. It’ll be fine.”
This time it was Rina who stared at him with a knitted brow. “You want me to do something for you, don’t you?”
“I won’t even pretend innocence. I’d like you to talk to some of the Hillel students. Find out who the popular professors are.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“Okay. You know I deal with students from all five colleges. Do you want me to zero in on Morse McKinley College?”
“Not necessarily. I’d like to know the professors who are always at the forefront of social activism. I already interviewed Hank Carter. I didn’t like him, but as of right now, I have no reason to suspect him. If you could find out about others, that would be helpful.”
“You may be talking about two different groups of people: popular teachers and socially active teachers.”
“I need those who overlap.”
“And why are you looking at socially responsible, popular professors?”
“I’m really looking for socially responsible, popular professors who have a very bad dark side.”
Rina was taken aback. “You suspect a professor is your serial killer?”
“I’m looking for someone who has been around for the last eight years. It could be a townie, but since we have three bodies who were students, I’m thinking it’s someone employed by the five colleges.”
“So it doesn’t have to be a professor.”
“No,” Decker said. “Who else did you have in mind?”
“The clergy deals with all five colleges.”
“Are you insinuating something about Rabbi Melanie?”
Rina laughed. “Just saying. And I’m sure you know that there are alternative clubs that traverse all five colleges.”
“I don’t know. Tell me.”
“Well, without thinking about it, I’ve heard of a tattoo club, a piercing club, a liars club for both guys and gals, a B and D club à la Fifty Shades of Grey—”
McAdams said, “How do you know all this?”
“I hang around students all the time.”
“And they just walk up to you and say, ‘Hey, Mrs. Decker, did you hear about the Fifty Shades of Grey Club?’”
“The gossip happens when we’re doing stuff like baking challah or packing weekend meals for the poor: when there are crowds of kids working in a small room. I overhear them talking. Most of the gossip is second- or thirdhand, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t accurate.”
Decker said, “Just see what you can find out, okay? I’ll do the same.”
“Do I get paid for this?”
Decker smiled. “You get paid by me being in a good mood.” When Rina rolled her eyes, he said. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”
McAdams said, “There isn’t by any chance a serial killer club?”
“Not that I know of, but who knows what lurks in the shadows.” She turned to her husband, “In return for my intel, I want you to do something for me.”
“I’ve already said it’s okay to host Rosh Hashanah here. That’s quid pro quo.”
“I have something else in mind.” Rina made a face.
“You want to also host a break-the-fast meal after Yom Kippur.”
“Uh, no, but that would be a very nice thing to do as well.”
“Okay. What?”
“I wanted to host a Sukkoth party during the week. But if you can only tolerate one more social event, I think a break-the-fast buffet would be better. Hillel will give me a stipend for the food, by the way.”
“You know, Old Man, parties are a good way to hear student gossip,” McAdams said.
Rina gave Tyler a thumbs-up.
“You two are always conspiring against me.” Decker laughed. “Do whatever you want, Rina. Actually I like the big parties better than the small ones. When it’s big, the kids speak to one another and I don’t feel the need to make small talk.”
He turned to McAdams.
“You can come down if you want. This year, most of the holidays are over the weekend. Being a student yourself, you’d fit in nicely. You can be my mole.”
“I thought I was your mole,” Rina said.
“A good detective has more than one source of info.”
“As long as I’m your main mole. Anyway, Tyler probably won’t make it out on Yom Kippur this year. It’s on a Monday and there’s no reason to miss school.”
“It’s not a problem, Rina,” McAdams said. “As shocked as you may be by hearing this, the law school usually empties out on Yom Kippur. Because who the hell has ever heard of a Jewish lawyer?”
The Circle M was interchangeable with any of the hundreds of twenty-four-hour convenience stores across the nation. The cashier sat in a lozenge-shaped area that contained a register, a locked glass cabinet of razor blades and batteries, a popcorn machine, a hot dog roller roaster, a microwave, a glass shelf of doughnuts and pastries, three coffee thermoses, a napkin holder, paper cups with lids, plastic utensils, coffee accoutrements, and condiment dispensers of ketchup, mustard, and relish. The ICEE section—cherry, blue raspberry, and lemonade—was self-serve just outside the contained area. There were shelves holding jars, cans, and bags; a refrigerated area for beer, soft drinks, orange juice, and milk; and a small separate freezer unit that held ice cream and Popsicles.
Derek Kinny manned his post behind the register. He was in his late sixties, a doughy bald man with thick arms and stumpy legs. He had brown eyes, a ruddy complexion, and a bulbous veined nose from too much imbibing. He wiped down the countertop as he spoke to Decker and McAdams.
“I knew what Erin had done before I hired her.”
“How?” Decker asked.
“It’s a small town. Word gets around. I never asked her about it—I guess I was waiting for her to tell me. But she didn’t, so I watched her. Far as I could tell, she wasn’t stealing. I checked the receipts. Everything squared with the register.”
“You took an awfully big risk.”
“She was desperate. I believe that everyone deserves a second chance.”
“That’s nice of you.”
“Turns out I was right. She was a hard worker.” Kinny shrugged and put the dishrag under the counter. “I was real sorry when she went missing.”
“Tell me how you found out.”
“She didn’t show up at work and she didn’t answer her phone. That was unusual. She was dependable for the most part.”
“Did you go over to her apartment?”
“I did. Knocked on the door and no answer. I just thought she had enough.”
“Enough of what?” McAdams asked.
“The town. She used to tell whoever would listen that she had dreams of better things.”
“What were her dreams?” Decker asked.
“She wanted to go to beauty school in Hollywood and work with the stars.” A small smile. “Problem was, she didn’t have money. And she wasn’t saving much, judging by how often I saw her at the local hangouts. She was kind of what we used to call a barfly in movies.”
“She was older than most of the college students,” Decker pointed out.
“Not that much older. And you know college boys. They’ll screw anything that isn’t nailed down.”
“She hung out with coll
ege students?” McAdams said.
“Students, teachers, locals . . . anyone who’d buy her a beer and wanted a good time. She used to talk to me about it. I used to tell her if she really wanted to get away, she shouldn’t be spending her cash drinking and getting tattoos.”
“And what did she say to that?” Decker asked.
He smiled. “You know. ‘Ah, Derek, a girl’s gotta have a little fun now and then.’ We’d run into each other sometimes. Me and my wife. By the end of the evening, Erin was usually wobbly on her feet. We took her home several times as a matter of fact.”
“So she’d drive home drunk?”
“She didn’t have a car. She had a bike. The few times we took her home, we put her and her bike in the bed of our truck.”
“Can we go back to the night that Erin disappeared?”
“If you want. Don’t have much to tell— Damn. Excuse me.”
A male transient with unwashed hair and dirty clothes had wandered into the store. Decker knew most of the small homeless population. There was a shelter, but when the weather was decent, most of them preferred the streets.
Kinny said, “Whadaya need, Jackson?”
“Just looking, Mr. Kinny.” He looked at Decker with hooded eyes.
“Hey, Jackson, what’s up?” Decker said.
“Don’t suppose you could spare some change, Mr. Officer.”
McAdams started to reach in his pocket, but then Kinny shook his head. “It’s warm outside, Jay Jay. Move it.”
“You got anything for me, Mr. Kinny?”
Kinny kept his eyes glued to the man’s hands. He slipped his own underneath the counter and took out a big paper bag and pulled out a seed bagel. “It’s old but not so bad if you dunk it in coffee. You can have a cup of coffee this time. But don’t be expecting it every time.”
“No, sir.” Jackson grabbed the bagel and the coffee and went outside to eat his impromptu feast on one of the parking cement blocks.
Kinny said, “One second.” He rushed outside and pointed Jackson in the direction of the road. The homeless man got up and left. When Derek returned, he said, “It’s the deal I have with these guys. I give them a little food if they don’t hang around my store. I’m right off the highway. We get a lot of fall leaf watchers who want a quick cup of coffee and a little somethin’. When they hang around here, it drives the tourists away.”
A pause.
“Answer me something,” Kinny said. “Why do they live on the streets if they can get a bed and a decent meal at the shelter in town?”
“They have mental problems. The shelters have rules. They don’t like rules, and they especially don’t like taking medication. But winter is the great equalizer. They’ll be out of your hair soon enough.” Decker smiled. “You were going to tell me about the night that Erin Young disappeared.”
“The day after, she didn’t show up for night shift.”
“What did you do?”
“Locked up the store, went over to her apartment, and banged on the door. No one answered.”
“She lived with a roommate,” McAdams said.
“Well, her roommate must have been out. When she didn’t show up the next day, I figured she finally left for Hollywood.”
“When did you think something was wrong?”
“When she was reported missing about a week later by her mama. The papers said she still had her belongings in her apartment. I thought to myself, that isn’t good.” He paused. “The police came and talked to me. Then they talked to Lindsey Terrehaute who was the last one to see her before she disappeared. Lindsey didn’t suspect anything bad. She said that Erin seemed in good spirits.”
“The report said she was walking home the night she went missing.”
“She often walked when the weather was mild. She didn’t live more than a half mile from here.”
“And when the weather was bad?”
“If she couldn’t get a ride or she couldn’t ride her bike ’cause of the snow, she’d bundle up and walk. Lots of people around here are retirees and don’t have cars. It’s not unusual to see people walking even in winter.”
Decker nodded.
“I was retired when I bought this place.” Kinny thought a moment. “Might have bit off more than I can chew. Some days when it’s real cold, I just don’t want to get out of bed. But the store is warm and it keeps me busy even if it’s busywork. Fact is, everyone needs a place to go when they wake up in the morning.”
Back in the car, Decker said, “When the police did a search of Erin’s apartment, did anyone make note of a bicycle?”
“I don’t remember a bicycle in the file, but I’ll check it again.”
“Even if it’s there, she couldn’t have gotten to L.A. on a bicycle.”
“She could have pedaled far enough to catch a bus or even a train.”
“Taken her bicycle with her?”
“There are racks on buses for bikes. I’ll do a little probing.”
“Good.” Decker’s cell went off and connected immediately to Bluetooth. Radar’s voice said, “Where are you?”
“Tyler and I just left after interviewing Derek Kinny.”
“Who the hell is he?”
“He owns the Circle M where Erin Young worked.”
Radar paused. “Get a hinky feeling about him?”
“Not really,” Decker said. “What about you, Harvard?”
“Seemed straightforward.”
“Why?” Decker asked. “Don’t tell me you found another body?”
“No new bodies. As a matter of fact we have the opposite: a student who vanished three days ago from Morse McKinley. The college just called. The parents are with the administration right now, and they finally figured that maybe someone should call the police. Idiots.”
“What can you tell me about it?”
“Her name is Dana Berinson. She was last seen leaving a party at Morse McKinley at around eleven at night. She said she was going back to her dorm. Her roommate said she never returned. She’s not answering her phone. Friends haven’t seen her. Her boyfriend hasn’t seen her. Get over there and find out what’s going on.”
“On it, Mike.”
Radar said, “McAdams, when are you leaving?”
“Next week.”
“Great. You can go with him.”
“Not a problem.”
“Tyler, just be sure to write up a summary of your assignments this summer so when I hand them over to replacements, they’ll know what’s going on.”
“Already done.”
“Good. Just keep me in the loop.” Radar disconnected the line.
Decker turned the call to off. “Could you call Lindsey Terrehaute tomorrow? Ask her about Erin?”
“Sure. I’ll also call the loquacious roommate, Caroline Agassi, and see what she has to say.”
“Great. Have you really written up your summary?”
“Yep. Just have to log it into the computer. I’m nothing if not diligent.” A pause. “Another missing girl?”
“Let’s not assume anything.”
“Even the obvious?”
Decker said. “With this new development, I think I’m going to be tied up for a while.”
“I’m here for you, Old Man. Just let me know what you need.”
“I need help. I need your help.”
“Wow.” McAdams paused. “Did I just hear you right?”
“I said, you’re getting on my nerves and I’d like to see you gone ASAP.”
McAdams smiled. “That’s what I thought you said.”
Chapter 21
Flipping through several pictures of Dana Berinson, Decker saw a long-haired brunette with brown eyes, a long face, thin lips, and a prominent forehead. In the close-ups, she stared at the camera straight-on with a defiant look. When he asked about her height and weight, her mother, Jamie, told him she was five four and tipped the scales at 125 pounds. Mom was also a brown-eyed brunette with short hair. She was dressed in black slacks and a wheat-colo
red sweater that emphasized her wan complexion. Larry Berinson, Dana’s father, was average height. His hair was white and his eyes were blue. He had on a dark suit, white shirt, no tie. He did most of the talking.
“Explain to me how a girl—a child really—goes missing for three days and no one does a damn thing about it?” His remarks were addressed to the president of Morse McKinley, Benedict Veldt, a slight man with sunken, pockmarked cheeks and blow-dried hair. “You explain to me how the hell this happens!”
“I assure you we’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“I’m not interested in your assurances. I’m interested in finding my daughter!”
“Mr. Berinson, I’d be frantic, too. But I promise you that most of the time, these things resolve with positive results.”
Decker had never dealt with Veldt before. The president’s voice was calm, but his actions belied him. He kept clasping and unclasping his hands. He turned to Decker and said, “Has that been your experience?”
“Most missing persons return after a few days, yes,” Decker said. “But we’re not going to wait around. I’ll need a list of her classes, a list of her friends, and a list of all the students in her dorm.” To her mother: “Any names you can provide me will be a start.”
“I’m drawing blanks.”
“Well, think, Jamie!” Berinson bellowed. “It’s important!”
“Stop pressuring me!”
Decker held up a hand. “If you think of something, Mrs. Berinson, let me know.”
“The only person I can think of offhand is her roommate, Allison. She hated her.”
“Oh?” Decker said. “Do you know Allison’s last name?”
“I’m blanking again.”
Veldt got on the intercom. “Georgia, can you tell me who Dana Berinson’s current roommate is?”
“You don’t know?” Dad was once again outraged.
The intercom buzzed. “Allison Park.”
“Thank you.” Veldt turned to Mr. Berinson. “Students switch all the time. I wanted to be sure.”
“Why didn’t she like Allison Park, Mrs. Berinson?” Decker asked.
“I don’t know specifics, just that Dana complained about her. Personality conflict.”
McAdams said, “What about a boyfriend?”
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