“And you need this note to do that?” Nancy asked, putting her hand over it protectively.
“It might … that is, anything might help,” Brett said honestly. “We certainly could use a few clues.”
“Maybe you can help us,” Kathleen suggested. “We could use more information, if you have it.”
“I don’t know what I can tell you,” Nancy said. “There was a note on the hall table when we came home from church. That’s nothing unusual. In a family as large as ours, keeping track of everyone could be an impossible task; our children have been brought up to write down where they are going and to leave the information in the hall when we aren’t home. I left Doug to read the note and went upstairs to change my clothes and make sure the younger children got into play clothes before leaving the house. I didn’t even know Doug had left the house until he returned. And then he said that Kevin had run away from home. When I asked him how he knew, he told me about this note and that he had given it to you both. So I came right over here to see it. You’ve read the note. What is there to add? Aren’t you going to start looking for him? He’s still young. He could be anyplace … ” Tears welled up in her eyes.
Susan, knowing how protective Nancy Dobbs was of all her children, hoped that no one would mention the possibility of a kidnapping.
“We’ll start looking for him just as soon as we have all the information we need,” Brett said, ignoring his previous statement to the contrary. “May we ask you some questions?”
“Anything. Just ask me quickly so you can get started on your investigation. What do you want to know?”
“Why do you think Kevin was so worried that his father would be mad when he found out about the affair the boy was having with Paula Porter?”
“The affair … I …” Nancy seemed stunned, then she rocked slightly to one side. “I … I really don’t feel very well …”
Instantly, Susan remembered Nancy’s pregnancy. “Oh, sit down,” she urged, grabbing her arm and leading her over to the couch. “You should put your feet up, too.”
Nancy Dobbs did what she was told, leaning against the back of the couch and closing her eyes for a few minutes. When she opened them, she seemed more resolved.
“I’ll do anything I can to help. I’m sorry about that,” she added. “I don’t know if you know, but I’m two months pregnant. I guess it gets to me sometimes. I’m not as young as I used to be.”
Susan handed her another pillow and pushed the coffee table more firmly under Nancy’s feet. She was pleasantly surprised to find her vulnerable. She had always assumed that pregnancy was easy for her. “Just rest,” she suggested.
But Nancy didn’t stop for long. Putting her feet squarely on the floor, she sat up straighter. “I’m fine now. Ask me your questions, officer. Anything I can tell you about Kevin or about his affair with Paula Porter I will. Of course, he didn’t speak about such things freely to me, but he knew I would always support him, regardless of what he did.”
“Do you know why he ran away, Mrs. Dobbs?”
“No, I cannot imagine why, officer. Kevin is a good boy. Everyone in Hancock will tell you that.”
“Then what is this reference to the ‘trouble I’ve caused’ in this note?” Brett asked.
“I assume he is talking about his relationship with Mrs. Porter. Perhaps he thought it might reflect poorly on the family or something. I really don’t know. Shouldn’t you start looking for him, officer?”
“He’s a detective,” Kathleen said, referring to Brett’s title.
“Then he’ll be better able to find my son” was the complacent reply.
“You don’t have anything to add to this note?” Brett persisted.
“Nothing. I don’t understand it any more than you do.”
“Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Are there any friends he could stay with?”
“I can’t think of anyone.” There was a slight pause. “Perhaps, Detective”—she emphasized the title—“I had better leave you to go on with your investigation. I think, if you have no objection, that I will go home and call one or two of Kevin’s friends. They might have some idea of where he is. We may be worrying over nothing. You know how kids are. Well, you may not know, but we do, don’t we, Susan?”
Susan smiled her reply, glad to see that Nancy was perking up.
“If you think of anything …” Kathleen started to say.
“I most certainly will get in touch with you. Thank you for so much of your time. Bye, Susan. See you at the pool tomorrow.” She left the room, almost running into Chrissy, who had been sitting just outside the door.
“Well, she certainly did change personalities right in front of our eyes,” Kathleen commented. “Is she always like that?” she asked Susan.
“Not really. I’ve always thought she was just one of those very maternal women, that there wasn’t very much to her. But maybe I misjudged her,” Susan answered absently. Just what was her daughter doing hanging around when she had been told not to?
“I wonder,” Brett began.
“I can tell you something about Kevin,” Chrissy offered, entering the room, hugging the wall as though ready to make her escape quickly if she was not welcome.
“Chrissy. What could you possibly know about Kevin and where he is?” her mother asked impatiently and, she thought, rhetorically.
“Oh, I don’t know where he is” was the quick answer.
“Then we really don’t want to know what you think you know. Now please leave us alone.”
“No, wait, Susan. Maybe Chrissy does know something we should hear,” Brett said.
“OK, just be quick about it,” Susan agreed, wanting desperately to keep her daughter out of this.
“I know that Kevin Dobbs is a druggie.”
THIRTEEN
“You know what?” Susan asked, standing up.
“I know that he’s a druggie. You know, one of the kids who’s involved in drugs,” Chrissy said, with an attempt at a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.
“Are you sure?” Brett asked, standing beside Susan.
“Sure. Everyone knows about it.”
“I didn’t know about it,” Susan said.
“I mean the kids, Mom. We all know about it,” Chrissy insisted. “He’s been running around with that group for, well, for six months or so.”
“Sit down, Chrissy,” Brett said. “Tell us what you know and how you know it.”
Chrissy did as she was told. “Well,” she began, looking earnestly at the detective, “I don’t know when it started exactly, of course, but he was hanging around with Stanley Gardener and Frank Bond and that bunch around Christmastime. I know that, and you know about those kids yourself, Mom.”
Susan nodded her head. “I don’t know either of the families well, but I do know that both Stanley and Frank have been involved with drugs. Frank was even arrested in the City for some kind of drug involvement. His sentence was suspended and he had to go to some clinic for therapy, I think. Stanley Gardener has been a problem to his parents since he was young. I’d heard the drug rumors there, too. He’s the type of kid … it would surprise nobody to hear that about him. I thought he was supposed to be working on some sort of dude ranch in Wyoming for the summer. But are you sure that Kevin was hanging around with that group, Chrissy?” She looked at her daughter anxiously, knowing this was an age when girls were apt to be dramatic.
“I’m sure of it,” Chrissy said. “My friend Andrea at school?—you know her, Mom. Well, her older sister Betty was dating Kevin and her parents made her stop because he was taking her to parties where there were drugs. Andrea heard a big argument between her sister and her mom and dad late one night …”
“Do you have last names … phone numbers … so we could check this out?” Brett asked the child.
“Sure, Andrea and I call each other all the time. Her last name is Emery, and the number is 555-6161.”
“Wonderful.” He wrote it down on a piece of paper. “Go on.
”
“Well, Andrea said Betty told her that Kevin would get away with things that the other guys couldn’t because he looked so clean-cut and has a good reputation. But Betty said it wasn’t going to last long because when you get in with that group, everyone finds out about it and then your reputation is ruined. She’s dating John Cavanaugh now. He’s president of the debating club and star of the basketball team.”
“Were there any rumors of drug use at the Field Club this summer?” Brett asked.
“At the Field Club?” Chrissy repeated. “Of course not.” She was indignant.
“You’ve been very helpful, Chrissy. In fact, you may have been the most helpful person in town,” Brett said, sensing she had told him all she knew. “We’ll let you get on with your own life now. But please be sure to let us know if you hear any more about this, will you?”
“And don’t go around starting rumors about Kevin or telling anyone what you might have overheard today,” Susan said.
“I won’t, Mom. I’m going over to Nickie’s house. Her father is going to help us with our backstroke in her pool. Then he’ll drive us to the swim meet. Okay?”
“Sure. Be home in time for dinner.” Susan watched her daughter leave the room, shocked about how casually the child talked about drugs. She sighed. Just how good a job had she done raising her children? Were they protected from making these mistakes? She shivered.
“Don’t worry,” Brett said, reading her thoughts. “She was just parroting what she’s heard her friends’ older brothers and sisters saying. She really doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
Kathleen, who knew more about the drug world than her superior, was silent.
“I think we should find someone who does know what Chrissy’s talking about,” Brett continued. “I wonder where John Mann is this afternoon?” He turned to Susan. “Would he be at the Field Club on Sunday?”
“John Mann?” she repeated, trying to bring her thoughts back in line. “I doubt it. There’s not much happening today. The swim meet is at another club.”
“Then let’s give him a call at home,” Brett said, “Do you have a phone book handy?”
“If you just want the Manns’ number, I’ll give it to you.” And she did.
From this end of the line, it sounded as if the person on the other end answered at once.
Susan was pleased when Brett, hanging up, said, “Let’s go to the Manns’. And could you come too, Susan? John says we might need help finding his house. It could save some time if we had a guide.”
“Of course. Just let me leave a note in case Chrissy comes home or Jed and Chad get back from the game early.” She wrote swiftly and hurriedly stuck the paper on the kitchen table, which served as the family’s message center.
The drive to the Manns’ was as confusing as it was short. They lived in the converted coach house of one of the mansions that had once made up the town of Hancock. Their house was on a lane with no other buildings and behind some of the more conventional homes in town. There was a street sign, but since no one in his right mind would expect a road there, no one really ever saw the sign. Susan gave accurate directions from the back seat of the police car and they arrived quickly in front of a building more like a cottage than anything else in Hancock.
Like other buildings of that classification, it should have been charming. The windows were made of small glass diamonds. The slate roof slanted at every which angle. The walls were half-timbered. So where, Susan asked herself, was the charm? It was a question she asked herself each time she saw the building. The answer, she knew well, was that Carol, a woman of remarkably little talent, also had very little taste. She had done little to her home, and what she had done, she had done wrong.
Carol herself was waiting for them beside the front door. “Susan,” she said, surprised, “I didn’t know you were coming along. No wonder you found our place so quickly,” she said to Brett.
“You certainly are hidden up here,” he commented.
“I think of this as our secret garden,” Carol said, as Susan had heard her say so often. And Susan thought again how little this plot of land, overrun with weeds and children’s toys, broken and rusting from neglect, resembled the romantic spot created by Francis Burnette. Well, she reminded herself, Carol wasn’t a natural housekeeper and they certainly couldn’t afford to hire anyone.
“I’ll wait out here with Carol,” Susan offered unwillingly, as John came out of the house to greet his guests.
“Actually, I’d appreciate it if you sat in on this conversation,” Brett replied. Kathleen didn’t say anything.
“Oh, I’d be de—happy to,” Susan gushed. Now she could find out what was going on.
When they left the cluttered little house an hour and fifty-five minutes later, she wasn’t so sure that she was glad she knew what was going on. There was a lot to be said for ignorance, she decided, as she said good-bye to Carol in the driveway.
“I hope you find this killer,” Carol was saying to Kathleen. “And I’m so glad you came to John for help. He really knows what’s going on in Hancock.”
Carol rattled on and on, obviously proud of her husband. The detectives got into the front seat. Susan resumed her spot in the back and, with a final wave, they drove off, down the tiny road and back toward the Henshaw house.
“Well, what do you think?” Brett asked Susan, looking at her in the rearview mirror.
“I can’t believe it” was the reply. “I mean, I knew that there were drugs around. That’s the way the world is now. But so many high school kids with drug problems! Drug busts at graduation parties in the past few years. Our kids picked up at crack houses in the city slums. No, I didn’t know that …”
“And you don’t think anyone does?” he asked.
“No, of course not. We’d lock up our kids if we knew that.”
“But there is a program in the PTA in the junior and senior high schools to inform parents about drugs,” Kathleen said.
“I know. I went to one that was held Chrissy’s first month in sixth grade. It described drugs, told about their effects, explained about alcohol use among teenagers. I thought I knew what was going on after that.”
“But you didn’t.” Kathleen almost sounded sympathetic.
“Oh, no. I didn’t know anything. I see that now.”
“And your friends?” Brett asked.
“I can’t believe …” she started. “Of course they don’t know. If we knew about the things that John Mann was talking about, we’d … well, I don’t know what we’d do. I still cannot believe that nice boy who delivered for the cleaners was a drug dealer.”
“But you knew that he vanished from the community pretty quickly,” Kathleen pointed out.
“We were told that he got a job helping tag whales or something up on Cape Cod. Not that he was arrested in the City and was imprisoned somewhere in upstate New York. I can’t believe it. And that Kevin and Stanley Gardener and Frank Bond had all been picked up by the local police for using drugs right outside the high school …”
“What I thought was interesting was that Officer Mann said that Kevin’s arrest had been kept secret from his father. That his mother had come to pick him up and the whole thing was hushed up. That it never went to court or anything,” Kathleen said.
“I thought that was very sensible,” Susan said. “In the first place, his father would have killed—” She shut up. After all, this was a murder investigation. “You think this all may have to do with why Kevin was hiding from his father? That it didn’t have anything to do with his affair with Paula?”
“That maybe he wasn’t even having an affair with Paula? That maybe their meetings in the tennis shed had more to do with drugs than with sex?” Brett ended for her.
“That will be easy to get a handle on,” Kathleen contributed. “We’ll send in a forensic team. If they’ve been using drugs in there for a few months or so, there should be some evidence. I’ll get right on that.” She picked up the two-way
radio and started talking to the voice that answered her summons.
“Having a hard time taking this all in?” Brett asked.
“Absolutely. I cannot believe it. First all this about drugs in Hancock—all over Hancock, in fact—and now thinking that Paula was involved in drugs. I just can’t believe it.”
“Can’t you really?” Brett asked gently.
Susan thought back to all the things she hadn’t understood in the last few years. Sure, there had been kids who disappeared off to the north or to the west to do unusual work or to stay with a family there. And Paula? Had Paula really been the drudge everyone said she was? Always doing just what her husband, her kids, her social group wanted? Had she been all that while waiting—waiting for years for the first escape offered? And when it came, it wasn’t an affair with a handsome young man, but an escape into the world of drugs?
“I hate to admit it, but it does make some sense. I mean, once you put drugs into the picture, I guess it explains a lot of things. But we’re forgetting Jan. She died and she wasn’t involved in drugs, was she?”
“We don’t know that right now,” Brett said as he started the car. “We still have a lot of searching to do.”
The police car started off down the drive.
Susan walked back into the house to a ringing phone. She rushed to pick it up before it stopped, assuming that it was Jed calling from the Mets game. She wanted to ask him to take Chad to dinner so she would have time for a quiet chat with Chrissy. She didn’t know what to say to her, but she wanted to continue their discussion of drugs in Hancock. She knew now how important it was to score some points for her side.
But, when she picked up the receiver, the caller had hung up. Oh well, whoever it was would call back. She sat down on the couch near the phone and put her feet up. She’d wait right here in case the phone rang again. In a few minutes, exhausted from the strain and unhappiness of the past few days, she was asleep.
Hours later, the phone rang again, waking her up. She picked up the receiver in the middle of a ring.
“Hello?” If only he hadn’t hung up.
Murder at the PTA Luncheon Page 17