“A lot of students have come and gone since then, Detective.”
“She was a psych major,” Decker pointed out.
“As far as I can tell, she never took any of my classes at Clarion. And that makes sense because my classes are small and specialized. I did teach an Intro to Psych class way back when, but not since I received tenure eight years ago. So we never crossed paths.”
“What about Lawrence Pettigrew? He was a Morse McKinley student. I know you teach there as well.”
“I do remember Pettigrew from Morse McKinley. He’s a hard one to forget. I had no idea he was missing. I heard he just dropped out of school.”
“He did.”
“So why would he be up at Bogat? Was he thinking of returning to college?”
“I don’t know, Dr. Pallek. But since he was buried in Bogat, he obviously did come back to Greenbury for some reason. Did you happen to see him while he was in town five years ago?”
“No. Like I said, I thought he dropped out.”
“Do you know why he dropped out?”
“Everybody knew, Detective. He was planning to undergo sex reassignment surgery.”
“So you knew him pretty well.”
“No, I didn’t. Lawrence was a colorful character. He’d tell anyone—whether they were interested or not—that he wanted to be a woman.” A pause. “Did he do it? Become a woman?”
“He had become Lorraine. He was a she in all but the final cut. So you have no idea why Pettigrew would have come back to Greenbury.”
“Maybe he—or she—was thinking about returning to college.”
“Everyone I talked to said Lorraine was happy with her job and with her life.”
“Sorry. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
“Was Pettigrew in any of your classes?”
“As a matter of fact, he—I’ll call him he because I knew him as a he—Pettigrew was in my psych class. My specialty is bias and prejudice in interviews and standardized testing. I suppose Lawrence, as a transgender woman, might have encountered bias. My class, by the way, is usually reserved for upper-division students and of course for Clarion women. I made an exception with Lawrence. He was very bright. He seemed quite keen on pursuing the subject. I was surprised when he dropped out of school entirely. He could have come back as Lorraine and continued his studies. No one would have cared. He would have fit in at Clarion, certainly.”
“And he never contacted you after he dropped out? By text or e-mail, say.”
Pallek folded his hands and brought them to his mouth in contemplation. “If he did, I certainly don’t remember. It was years ago. Maybe your memory is that good, but mine is not. What would it matter, anyway? It wouldn’t bear on why he was killed and buried up at Bogat.”
“I don’t know, Professor. Sometimes little things help. Would you mind checking your records?”
“Sure, but it may take me a while. Anything else?”
“What do you remember about Yvette Jones’s disappearance?”
“She was a student at Morse McKinley. The faculty was shaken up when she went missing. I don’t recall anything about her. She wasn’t in any of my classes. I wouldn’t know her if she walked into the room right now.”
“How do you know she wasn’t in your classes?”
“I looked her up. I looked all three of them up. I know you’ve been talking to others about Bogat so I did my homework. Why waste your time?”
“I appreciate that. I’ve only started interviewing some of the faculty. I’m curious. Who have you talked to?”
“Let’s just say word gets around.”
“You are Hank Carter’s brother-in-law, correct?”
“I see that I’m not the only one who does homework.” Pallek appeared annoyed. “Hank talked to me, yes. He wasn’t happy after he talked to you. He said some of your questions seemed pointed.”
“Really?” Decker made a face. “That’s surprising. I started with him only because Yvette Jones disappeared after attending one of his lectures. I certainly didn’t ask him anything pointed.”
“So you say. Cops have a way of twisting things.” Decker didn’t speak. Pallek was uneasy with the silence. “That’s just my opinion.”
“Maybe we play a little loose when interviewing a suspect, but not when we’re trying to get help. And that’s why I’m talking to all of you. I’m asking for help—from Dr. Carter, from Dr. Kramer, from you, from the community. Three people were murdered and buried in the same spot. I’d think the colleges would want this cleared up as soon as possible.”
“Of course. And I wish I could help. But I don’t know anything.” Pallek started to talk, but thought again. “Anything else?”
“What about Delilah Occum? What do you remember about her?”
“I remember the case because it was more recent. The community looked all over for around four days. I don’t know how we missed Bogat. It’s such a popular hiking trail.”
“Bogat wasn’t a trail back then. Just woodlands.”
“Ah, that makes sense. Well, we searched plenty of woodlands, but you can’t search everything.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know Delilah personally, but I knew she was a Clarion student.” He checked his watch again. “Anything else?”
“You still have a half hour before your seminar.”
“I have some calls to make and some business to take care of.” A pause. “If you have anything else specific, I’m happy to answer but I really can’t help more than I have.”
“No, nothing specific. Thanks for your time.” They both stood. Decker gave him his card. “Just in case you find something in your e-mails about Pettigrew, Jones, or Occum.”
“Sure.” Pallek stuck it in his jeans pocket. He gave a nervous smile and left.
This time, it was Decker who checked his watch. Carter’s free lecture was starting in about an hour. Allowing an hour for the lecture and questions, Decker had a considerable amount of time to kill before he was picking Rina up.
He could nurse his tepid iced coffee and play with his phone like everyone else in the room. Or he could take a short drive to the station house where there was always an infinite amount of paperwork on his desk; he’d perhaps reread the files and call the kid like he promised.
Option B, hands down, won out.
Chapter 29
The talk started at seven-thirty rather than eight—the time change announced in the McKinley Crier. Rina was late by fifteen minutes and had to stand at the back with the others. She still managed to catch most of the lecture. Carter was an engaging speaker and struck the right combination of layman and professional with occasional humor thrown in for good measure. The lecture ended by nine-fifteen, so rather than wait for Peter to arrive, she decided to walk home because it was a lovely night. Eventually, she called Peter just to let him know where she was.
“I just passed town. I’ll be home in ten minutes.”
“Rina, go back there and wait for me at Bagelmania. This wasn’t what we planned.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Darling, I’m not going to lose my temper, but if you don’t listen to me, I will. It’s very dark outside and I’m interviewing people about a serial killer. Don’t be an id— Just please listen to me.”
“An idiot?” Rina had to laugh. “I’m turning around now. You’re right. It is dark. I’ll see you at Bagelmania.”
“Thank you.”
She hung up and turned around, almost bumping into a body. She hadn’t realized that someone had been behind her. She certainly hadn’t heard anything. Her heart started racing. “Excuse me.” Then she realized who it was, and her heart really took off. She took a deep breath. “Professor Carter. I just heard your lecture. It was fabulous.”
“Thank you very much.” A wide smile. “You work at Hillel, don’t you?”
“I do.” It was Rina’s turn to smile, although it took great effort. “Rina Decker. How do you know I work at Hillel?”
“I make it my busines
s to know a lot of things.”
“Then you’re much more with it than I am.” She was a minute from town. She tried not to walk too quickly. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“I’m wondering what prompted you to hear me speak. It’s not often I get . . . older women at my talks.”
“Older women?”
“Older but beautiful.”
“Good save, Professor. It’s not often that I get young whippersnappers following me home.”
“I live this way. And I’ve noticed you’ve changed directions.”
They were on the border of the business district. People were out. She felt her heartbeat start to slow. “I’m meeting my husband at Bagelmania. Last-minute change of plans.” When he didn’t answer, she said, “I came because students talk about what a great lecturer you are. It’s a week before the Jewish New Year, the time when you take stock of your failings. I know nothing about economics—socially conscious or otherwise—and decided to get better educated.”
“Very admirable. What did you think? Besides it being fabulous.”
“Well, it was also very . . . entertaining.” She saw his eyes cloud over. A moment later, she saw Peter parking their car in front of Bagelmania. As soon as he got out, she called out. He looked up and started walking over. “My husband,” she told Carter.
“Ah. I didn’t think you randomly called out to men on the street.”
She rolled her eyes. As soon as Decker arrived, he spoke calmly. Rina was sure it belied how he felt. “You’re out early.”
“The lecture started early. This is Dr. Carter, the professor who spoke tonight.”
“We’ve met,” Carter said. “He came to my office to talk to me about the terrible goings-on at Bogat Trail.” He turned to Decker. “Anything new?”
“The investigation continues.”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Decker smiled but said nothing. Rina could tell he was seething. She said, “You’ll excuse us, Dr. Carter. The detective has been very busy with unfortunate police business and I guard our time together fiercely.” She took Decker’s arm and nodded to the professor. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Are you coming to my next talk? I promise you it’ll be equally as entertaining.”
“I’d love to hear it. Maybe I can even get this guy to go with me. Good night.”
“Good night to the both of you.” Carter disappeared back into the shadows of the residential area.
When he was out of earshot, Rina said, “Don’t say it . . . just don’t!”
“Don’t say that I told you so and this is precisely why I didn’t want you out alone?”
“Thank you, Peter, because of course it makes total sense that he’d sneak up behind me and follow me after he just gave a lecture to over two hundred people. My heart is still going a mile a minute so could you wait a moment? Or better yet, say something like are you all right?”
Decker exhaled. “He must have scared the wits out of you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She snuggled close to his body. “Better now that I’m with you. My hero.”
“God, that was creepy,” Decker said.
“Creepy, stalkery, upsetting, scary . . . take your pick of adjectives.”
“Do you want to go home?”
“No, no, no. Let’s go to Bagelmania as planned. He still could be watching us, and I don’t want him to think he got to me.”
“Good point.”
“I think it’s pretty obvious that he knows where we live.”
“I know where he lives so we’re even. My only question is how badly I beat him up.”
“Peter, why would he do that?”
“I talked to his brother-in-law about an hour ago. He told me that Carter thought my questions to him were pointed. The simple answer is he doesn’t like me. The more complex answer is he has something to hide and he’s doing a mind f-u-c-k on me. He probably thinks I’m a yokel and enjoys seeing me sweat.” He realized he was speaking too loud and lowered his voice. “I’ve got to think about what’s going on with the dude. My thoughts are muddled right now because I’m angry. I need to calm down.”
“Was I his veiled threat to you to stop what you’re doing?”
“Maybe, but if so, it’s clumsy. It’s downright stupid.”
“Want to know what I think?”
“Of course.”
“I think he’s trying to make you mad, trying to get you to snap so you’ll be removed from the case. Because I’m sure he looked you up and knows you’re the most experienced Homicide cop on the force.”
Decker nodded. “Someone is thinking logically.”
“I’ve got a confession to make.” When Decker looked at her, she said, “I’m packing. Three bodies, no suspects, going alone to a lecture, and you’re asking questions about local murders. Despite what you think at times, I’m not an idiot.”
“You’re the smartest person I know.” Decker kissed her hand. “I’m glad you’re thinking defensively, but you still shouldn’t be walking home alone at night. And you shouldn’t be overly sanguine even with a weapon. There are always attacks from behind.”
“I know. I did not hear him.” She arched her neck and kissed his cheek. “Believe me, I’m on the watch now.”
“We’re all on the watch now.” He opened the door to Bagelmania. “After you.”
“Thank you.”
“What can I get you?”
“Valium?” She smiled. “A latte and an onion bagel with cream cheese.”
“Got it.” Ten minutes later, Decker brought the order over to their table. He smiled at her and took a bite.
“What?” Rina asked. “You have something on your mind.”
“My brain is buzzing with thoughts. We’ll talk when we get home. Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?”
“The lecture was good. He asked my opinion about it. I told him it was entertaining.”
“Ooh, dis.”
“Exactly. I can sling mud with the rest of them. He is a very charismatic speaker.”
“That’s how you reel in unsuspecting people.”
“I’ll have you know that I think I handled myself very well with him.”
“You’re always quick on your feet. I don’t doubt it for a moment.”
“Jackass . . . scaring me like that. I want to clobber him myself.” She kept her voice very low. “He’s waiting for you to slip up. You have to mind your manners. You can’t stalk him. He’ll slap you with police harassment. He’ll get the entire college behind him. It doesn’t take much these days to rile up the kids.”
“You’re right. I’ve got to think. And I can’t think clearly if I’m worried about you.” He looked up. “How do you feel about an escort?”
“How’s that going to look to Herr Doctor Carter?”
“I don’t care how it looks. I don’t want you out alone—day or night.”
“I understand.”
Decker paused. “Okay. That went well.”
“How about Karen?” Rina said. “She’ll be helpful in the kitchen.”
“I need Karen to watch Carter, Rina. That much I know. She worked a lot of undercover before she came here. How about Kevin Butterfield?”
“Don’t you need Kevin for the investigation?”
“He’s been taking a backseat since he was the original detective on Delilah Occum’s case and it went nowhere. He’s reading and rereading the files on all three bodies. He can read at our house as well as at the station house.”
“Sure. Put Kevin on me. He’s a nice guy. He likes my coffee cake.”
“Thank you for being reasonable.”
“Thanks, but I really don’t know why I need him.”
“Rina—”
“If I can handle Chris Donatti, Hank Carter should be a breeze.” When Rina saw Peter’s eyes get wide, she said, “No, Peter. No, no, no, no, no—”
“He owes us.”
“Are you hearing me, Peter? Involvi
ng him is opening up a whole ’nother can of worms. At the moment, he’s worse than Carter because we know beyond a reasonable doubt that Chris is a bad man.”
“Yeah, but he’s our bad man.”
“Peter!”
“I hear you, Rina. You’re right. No Donatti. I’ll send Kevin over to the house at around eight in the morning, okay?”
“Fine.” She stared at her husband. “Are you okay?”
“Not really. I need to figure out how to turn the tables on Carter . . . let the bastard know who’s the predator and who’s the prey.”
Thursday morning at quarter to seven, the doorbell rang. Rina was expecting Kevin Butterfield, even though he was early. Since Peter was in the shower, she looked through the peephole and then let out an involuntary groan.
She opened the door. “Oh my God! I can’t believe he called you. This is patently ridiculous!”
“Nice to see you, too, Rina.” Donatti sashayed across the threshold. He was carrying a large duffel and a backpack. He went down the hallway and surveyed the available space. “This room will do.”
“Take the one across the hall,” Rina said. “That room is reserved for Tyler.”
“Who the fuck is he?”
“He’s a detective on the force who’s now in school full-time. But he comes down on the weekends to help Peter out.”
“Which school?”
“Harvard Law.”
“So he’s a twit.”
“A bit of a twit, but he took a bullet for Peter, so he’s on our good side . . . like you.”
Wordlessly, Donatti went into the guest room across the hall and slung his duffel on the bed. He then returned to the living room and looked around, lowering his backpack off his shoulders. “I can’t work on your couch. I’ll set up at your dining room table.”
“That’s fine,” Rina said. “Coffee?”
“Yes.” Donatti sat down, opened the rucksack, and immediately spread out on the table. “Password?” Rina gave it to him. Within a few minutes, he was deep in concentration.
Donatti was now in his forties and Rina thought he looked every bit his age. His hair was predominately white, although there was still plenty of it. The stubble on his face retained some natural strawberry blond, but the white was creeping in there as well. His piercing blue eyes were bloodless as usual, but his face was still handsome—strong features, including great cheekbones. At six four, he was too tall and too lanky to be mistaken for a bouncer, but he could pass for a pro wrestler with his broad chest and the muscle from his arms straining the long-sleeved shirt. Muscles weren’t anything compared to a gun. She was sure that Chris had plenty of those as well. She poured him coffee and started back to the kitchen.
Bone Box Page 24