by Blair Howard
“There’s also the Kallisty connection. What do you make of that?”
“Right now I’m not even thinking about it, and it’s Kalliste, not Kallisty. We do need to dig into it, but first I want to know what the hell Jones is up to.”
“Okay, Kalliste. What the hell does it matter? I want to know who the hell is running it, because if our girl is a part of it, and we know she is, then it’s probably connected to her death. There’s some really bad people cruising dating websites like that one. And speaking of cruising, I can’t believe you let Jacque make those calls. She’s a clerk, not a cop.”
“I wouldn’t let her hear you call her a clerk if I were you. She’s very sensitive about her job description. Anyway, she can handle herself. I know. I taught her. Look, let’s find out what Jones is up to, and then we’ll take a look at the website, okay?”
She nodded. I looked sideways at her as I slung the car around the final tight bend, past Balmoral Drive, and on up the rise into the town of Signal Mountain. She looked stoically back at me, but eventually nodded. I smiled. It was good to be working with her again. We’d had a long and enjoyable partnership together, until… well. Until I screwed it up.
We drove through the college gates and on up the drive to the administration building.
There was no room to park out front, so I took a spot in an open area just to the right. I had barely stopped rolling when one of the security cruisers drove up alongside.
They must have damned cameras everywhere, I thought.
We put on our visitor badges and got out of the car; Mirrors and Aviators did too. I had yet to figure out which one was Lester and which was Henry, but it didn’t really matter. I wasn’t planning to get to know them socially.
“Back again, huh?” Mirrors asked.
I was already headed for the steps. “Duh.”
“I asked you a question, asshole.”
I hesitated, and was about to turn, but Kate grabbed my arm and urged me on up the steps.
“We’ll be waitin’ for you,” I heard Aviators shout, and I grinned.
“We need to see Ms. Mason-Jones,” Kate told the clerk at the desk.
“Do you have an appointment?”
Kate flashed her badge.
“Oh, I see. Well, if you’ll wait here for a moment, I’ll see if she can see you.”
She came out from behind the desk and started down the corridor towards the chancellor’s office. Kate followed her; I followed Kate.
The clerk realized we were on her heels, turned, seemed about to say something, changed her mind, shook her head and continued walking. She pushed open the door to Jones’ outer office and walked in; we followed. She continued on to Jones’ office door, knocked, waited, then opened the door and walked inside. We followed.
“I’m sorry, Chancellor. These people insisted on seeing you. I asked them to wait, but….”
“It’s all right, Mandy. I’ll take care of it. Thank you.” Oh, she looked pissed.
“Lieutenant Gazzara, Mr. Starke. In the future, I’d appreciate it if you’d make an appointment instead of barging in unannounced. Now. Please be quick. What can I do for you?”
No sit down? Screw you, lady.
I sat down uninvited. Kate also sat. She took the digital recorder from her pocket, turned it on, and sent it down on the desk.
“Ms. Mason-Jones,” Kate looked her in the eye. “When we were here the other day, you didn’t mention that two other girls from the college had gone missing. Why not?”
She leaned forward, placed her elbows on her desk, and clasped her hands together. “I didn’t think it was relevant. And besides, this is a very exclusive facility and I can’t afford to have any bad publicity.”
“Not relevant.” Kate looked at her as if she thought the woman was stupid. “One of your students is brutally murdered, and you didn’t think that two more missing girls, probably also murdered, was relevant. What goddamn planet did you come from, lady?”
Wow, Kate. You go girl.
I could tell that Mason-Jones was stunned, as Kate had intended she be.
“I don’t like your—”
“I don’t give two flying—I don’t care what you like. We now have at least one, probably three dead girls, and you don’t seem to give a shit. Tell me, when did you last follow up on the investigation of the missing girls?”
“I…. It’s been a while,” she said quietly.
Kate nodded. “Detectives Hart and McLeish, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“When did you last talk to either of them?”
She shrugged. “As I said, it’s been a while.”
“A while? A month? Two? A year? How long?”
She didn’t answer. She just stared stoically at Kate.
“I thought so. It’s been so long you can’t remember. You know what I think?”
Mason-Jones didn’t answer.
“I think you had it covered up,” Kate said. “I think those two county buffoons are in your pocket, and probably Hands too.”
I couldn’t help but grin at that one. Hands in your pocket. Classic.
“Well, no more. I am now senior investigating officer on the murder of Dr. Erika Padgett. Her body was found within the Chattanooga city limits and, as they all seem to be connected, you can bet your hoity-toity ass I’ll be looking hard at the other three cases, too, and at Belle Edmondson college. Now, is there anything you want to tell me?”
“Erika has been murdered?” She said it quietly, then seemed to realize what it was she was being told, and her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. Whether or not it was a genuine reaction, I couldn’t tell. The woman was good, very good.
“Oh my God,” Jones said, her hand to her mouth. “When… I was only talking to her on Friday. She’s dead?”
I reached into my pocket, took out my iPhone, and made like I was checking a text. I pulled up Emily’s phone number, hit send, and listened to see if it rang anywhere in Jones’ office. It rang four times and then went to voicemail. I tried Erika’s number. It also rang four times before going to voicemail. They weren’t in the office, unless they’d been switched to silent mode. I hadn’t really expected anything, but it was worth a try.
“Tell me about the two girls,” Kate said.
It didn’t work. Jones blinked rapidly a couple of time, took a deep breath, and shrugged, just a slight movement of her shoulders.
“I didn’t know them. Oh, I’d met them both, of course, but only in passing. I had no reason to. Their grades were good. They were diligent in their studies. No complaints from their professors. They were… well, not outstanding, but decent.”
“Do you remember when they went missing?”
“Of course. How could I forget?”
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what? I wasn’t here. Well, I was, but it was all handled by Edna Morgan. They were reported missing to her, and through her to me. A report was made to the sheriff’s department. Those two detectives conducted interviews with the girls’ friends, searched their rooms, and then they left, presumably to look for them.”
“And you’ve heard nothing from them in more than a year, and you didn’t bother to follow up with them, check on the status of the investigation? I’m not sure I understand your thinking, Ms. Mason-Jones. Two young women disappear from your school and you act like it’s no big deal. Do you not have a responsibility to their parents to at least try to find out what happened to them?”
“What was I supposed to do? We called the police. We reported them missing. I don’t see what else I could have done.”
Kate nodded, stared at her, eyes narrowed. “Let’s talk about Dr. Padgett. Where were you last night between midnight and three o’clock this morning?”
“Oh you can’t be serious. I’m a suspect? That’s ridiculous.”
“Where were you, Ms. Mason-Jones?”
There was an almost imperceptible pause. “I was home, of course. Where else would I be at
that time of night?”
Did she hesitate?
“Can anyone corroborate that?”
“Well, no. Of course not. I live alone.”
“So what did you do while you were at home, alone?” There was an edge to Kate’s voice.
“I ate dinner, watched a little TV, Fox News, and then I went to bed.”
“What time would that have been?”
“I don’t know. Around ten-thirty, I suppose.”
Kate stared hard at her, then made a note in her iPad, switching her gaze back and forth from Jones to the tablet as she did so. It was quite an act, and it was having an effect.
“Look,” Jones said. “I can’t prove it, but I was home all evening. I made several phone calls to friends. I can give you a list….”
“What time was the last call you made?” Kate asked.
I sat back in my chair and watched the chancellor squirm. She was having trouble maintaining eye contact, and it was easy to see that she was trying hard, but you have to know Kate to understand what was going on. Kate was testing her. I’d seen her do it many times before. She was unbeatable in a staring contest, and could spot a lie like no one I’d ever known.
“I don’t know, late. Well, after ten. I told you, I went to bed early.”
Kate nodded, dropped her eyes to the tablet, and resumed the tapping.
“Okay,” Jones said. She almost leapt to her feet. “I don’t have time for this foolishness. I have appointments, so I must ask you to leave, now.”
We rose to our feet. Kate had the tablet on the palm of her left hand and continued tapping as she turned and walked out of the office. I grinned at Jones, thanked her, said goodbye, and then followed Kate out into the corridor.
“Let me see those notes,” I said as I caught up with her, and grabbed the pad out of her hand. I laughed as I looked at the jumble of letters. “I knew what you were up to.”
“I’m sure you did, but the question is, did she?” She paused. “Give me a minute.” She left me holding the pad and returned to Jones’ office. She was gone for only a few minutes before she returned with a wide smile on her face.
“Just doing my Colombo thing,” she said, grabbing the iPad out of my hand. “I told her I’d need to talk to her again. She didn’t look very pleased. Can’t imagine why.” She smirked.
“So what do you think?” she asked as we got back into the car. “Is she a suspect?”
“Of course she is. Everyone is, plus, she’s rattled. She says she has no alibi, but did you catch that hesitation when you asked her where she was last night?”
“Yes, but I don’t think it meant anything. She was just getting her ducks in a row.”
“Maybe, maybe not. She didn’t mention the two missing girls when we questioned her previously. Why not? It’s not natural. Anyone with even a modicum of empathy’s reaction would be, ‘Oh no. Not another,’ but she didn’t even look bothered that Emily was missing. ‘Utterly devastated,’ my ass. And that accent. But all that could just have been out of arrogance—it’s all just a little bit beneath her and her station in life—or she just doesn’t care. I was bothered by that performance when you told her about Padgett. It was an act. I’m sure of it.”
“What about her cell phone?”
“What about it?”
“Well we have her number, so Tim can track her, right?”
“He can, and I’ll have him do it, but unless it actually places her at the crime scene, it won’t do us a whole lot of good. And even if it does, it would be circumstantial. Tracking her phone can only tell us where the phone was, not her, but you knew that.”
She nodded and sighed. “True, but we have little else to go on, and you never know, we might just get lucky.”
They were waiting for us when we exited the building, leaning against the cruiser: sunglasses on, arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles.
Talk about the Dukes of Hazard. Cletus Hogg would have been proud of them. They must have been practicing that pose.
Neither said a word as Kate and I separated and walked to our respective sides of the Maxima, but they followed us all the way with their eyes, hidden behind their dark glasses. No smiles: mouths clamped shut, lips compressed.
I closed the car door, punched the starter, reversed, put the car in gear, hit the gas, and fishtailed out of the lot. I watched in the rearview mirror as they jumped into the cruiser and gave chase. They followed us as far the gate.
“What now?” Kate asked.
“Damned if I know. I think we need to go back to the office and see if I can make some sense of what little we have. Maybe Tim will have something for us. You up for that?”
“Sure. We have plenty of time.”
Chapter 17
The office was quiet. Jacque was the only one at her desk. Bob and the rest of the crew were nowhere to be seen.
“Any messages?” I asked. Jacque shook her head. “Nothing from Bob?” Again, she shook her head.
“Okay. This place reminds me of Doc Sheddon’s morgue. Where is everyone?”
“Tim is in back doing whatever it is he does. Bob has gone off somewhere with Amanda. Heather is—”
“Okay, okay. I get it. Give Tim a buzz please, and have him join us in my office.”
I went to the break room to make coffee. Damn. No dark roast.
“Hey, Jacque. We’re out of coffee.” No answer. I was about to say it again when she appeared in the doorway, one hand on her hip, a box of K-cups in the other.
“Thank you, darling,” I said with my best grin.
She shook her head in disgust. “All you had to do was look.” She was putting on the accent, pretending to be mad at me. It didn’t work. It never did. I knew her too well.
“Kate, you want coffee?”
“Black, two sugars, please.”
“Hey Tim,” I said as he poked his head around the corner. “Grab your stuff and a coffee and let’s get started. Oh, actually, before you do, see if you can track this phone. It belongs to the chancellor. I want to know where it was last night between seven and three o’clock this morning. And this one. It belongs to Erika Padgett. She’s dead.” He nodded, the news about Padgett flying right over his head.
We went to my office and I dumped myself down in the leather monstrosity that was my office chair and gratefully allowed the upholstery to enfold me. Kate took one of the guest chairs in front of the desk, and we waited. Tim arrived five minutes later and took the other chair.
He cleared his throat, and began. “She—that is, her phone—was at the Integra Hills complex all night until seven this morning. I checked the tenant records. She has an apartment on Integra Hills Lane.”
“Damn,” I said. “Not conclusive, but…. And the other one?”
“Give me a minute.”
For several minutes we sat there, sipping on our coffees as Tim paged through his laptop with his spare hand.
Finally: “Okay, Tim. What do you have?”
I cringed as he set his cup down on the polished surface of my desk.
“I pulled Emily’s phone records, but they’re extensive and I haven’t had time to analyze them yet. Can you give me twenty-four hours?”
“I can, but I don’t want to. Quick as you can, Tim. It’s important.”
“Okay. You asked me to try to find her phone, and this other one, Erika Padgett’s. The good news is, they are both still active—but you knew that, right? Okay, okay. I was able to triangulate Emily’s. It’s within a three-quarter-mile radius of where her body was found. It must be in the woods somewhere. The killer must have thrown it away.”
“Good work, Tim.”
“There’s more. You also asked me to try to find Erika Padgett’s phone. Well,” he said, with some excitement, “it, too, is still transmitting, and… it’s somewhere in the same area as Emily Johnston’s. It’s also in the woods up there somewhere.”
“Whoa? Both of them, together?”
He nodded.
“Jeez,” I sai
d. “That’s a kick in the ass if ever I had one.”
I turned to Kate. “We have to find those phones. How the hell we’re going to do it, I have no idea. That’s some wild country up there, heavily forested. I don’t have the manpower to search an area that big, and I sure as hell don’t want to turn it over to Heart and Sole. Do you think….”
“Chief Johnston? I’ll ask him, but if it’s in those deep woods, unless we can get a better fix, I don’t think it’s likely we’ll find them. I’ll go call him. Tim, can you narrow it down any?”
“No, that’s the best I could do. I’d start at the crime scene and work outwards from there. Sorry.”
She nodded, and left to make the call. She was back in about ten seconds. “He’s sending a team up there at first light. He can only spare a couple dozen uniforms. Lonnie will lead them.”
“Good. That’s something. Carry on, Tim.”
“I still don’t have much on Angela Young and Marcy Grove. They had no online presence that I could find, either of them, other than their Facebook pages, but that stopped when they disappeared. What little there was on Facebook was all mundane stuff, photos of friends, parents, pets, vacations, all the usual stuff. Nothing that grabbed my attention. Same with their friends, mostly girls. So that was a dead end. Then I wondered if they knew each other. The answer, as far as I can tell, is no. As to their social lives… I couldn’t get a handle on that. No data. Sorry.”
“Boyfriends?”
“No. At least, I don’t think so.” He paused, sipped his coffee.
“Are you okay, Tim?” I asked.
He squinted quizzically at me. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re very quiet. It’s not like you.”
“No, I’m good. Been keeping late hours is all. Talking to friends in England online.”
“How about these girls’ parents?”
He shook his head, “Clean. Squeaky clean. And wealthy, very wealthy. You probably know Dr. Grove. He’s a member of your club.”
I thought about that. I was sure I didn’t know any Groves, but that was easy to check. A quick call to August, my father, would do it. “Okay, go on.”