by Dawn Eastman
If that led nowhere, she still wanted to talk to Russell again and might even try to track down Colin. They hadn’t ended their last conversation on a good note, and she hoped to figure out why he was so defensive.
She climbed into her car and turned it in the direction of I-94. There were a couple of small towns between Baxter and Ann Arbor, but all she could see from the highway was trees.
She turned left at the exit to head into Ann Arbor and the medical campus. There was a more direct route, but Katie liked to drive along Main Street and then through campus. The medical center was located at the center of Ann Arbor but north of the main campus. This was her favorite time of year in Ann Arbor. The campus had come alive with all the student activity, the leaves were changing colors, and it was still warm enough to be outside. She didn’t much like football (a secret she kept from almost everyone), but she did like football weather.
She skirted the edges of campus to avoid the traffic that was always slow due to the pedestrians who obeyed no traffic laws. She wound her way around the familiar streets and snagged a parking spot that would likely earn her a ticket. Every parking space in Ann Arbor seemed regulated in some way, either requiring a permit or having a time limit.
She met Matt in the newly redesigned lobby. The glass front and soaring ceiling gave the space a bright, light feeling. A woman sitting at a large central information center prepared to dispense directions. Matt nodded at her but didn’t stop. Katie followed him into a back stairway that had been missed during the renovation, and they ended up in a small white hallway. They checked the directional arrows on the wall and wended their way to the office of Matt’s guy, who was a lab assistant in the pathology department.
Charlie McQueen was well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders and muscled arms that would have been at home on the football field. He was bald and wore a little cap over his long hipster beard. The beard sock would have looked ridiculous on anyone else, but Charlie carried it off. He greeted Matt warmly with a couple of pats on the shoulder that almost knocked him off balance. Katie stuck her hand out, hoping to get away with a handshake and avoid anything more violent.
“Hey, guys,” Charlie said. “I don’t get a lot of visitors here at work.” He had an infectious, warm smile, and Katie liked him immediately.
Introductions and small talk ensued. It turned out that Charlie had indeed spent some time playing football in college. He and Matt discussed some old acquaintances while Katie smiled and hoped they would get to the point.
“I mentioned on the phone that I had a favor to ask,” Matt said.
“Yup, I’ve got it right here.” Charlie pulled a file out of a teetering stack. “I had to call in some favors with the ladies in the records room. They don’t want to give out the impression that records requests actually only take a few minutes to fulfill. The long wait discourages most people from even asking.” He winked and bestowed another smile along with the file.
“Thank you, Charlie,” Katie said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Sure, no problem. Hope it helps.” Charlie’s smile faded. “I remember that case. I had just started here. It was such a tragedy.”
“Do you remember anything about the autopsy?” Katie asked.
Charlie tugged on his beard and shook his head. “It was so long ago. I just remember she had hit her head on a brick or some sort of building material.”
“We’d better let you get back to work,” Matt said. “Thanks again.”
“The records ladies did say something interesting,” Charlie said as they turned to go. “They said this was the second request for that report in the last couple of weeks. But whoever requested it hadn’t picked it up yet.”
Katie glanced at Matt and knew he was thinking the same thing: Taylor.
* * *
They had one other stop to make in Ann Arbor. This one was tricky. Matt had tracked down Russell Hunt’s office hours, and they planned to visit him to ask a few questions. Katie knew that once Gabrielle got wind of it, there would be some apologies to be made. She had always hated that saying about asking permission and begging forgiveness, but in this case, she would just prepare to grovel.
They decided to take Katie’s car back onto the main campus, since she wanted to rescue it from her illegal parking spot. They saw the parking enforcement officer working his way down the line of cars toward Katie’s Subaru. With the reflexes born in the parking jungle of Ann Arbor, they both broke into a run and jumped in the car. Katie sometimes felt she could have purchased a whole new car with the amount she’d spent paying parking fines as a resident. Another nice thing about Baxter—parking was free everywhere.
She drove to the main campus and found a spot at an actual meter. They rummaged in pockets and wallets for change and slid the coins into the slot. The sun was lower in the sky and bathed the campus in the golden light of fall. Students lounged on the Diag, reading, eating, feeding squirrels. Katie remembered those days through a soft lens of nostalgia. She chose not to remember the late nights, final exam stress, and slogging across campus in snow and slush.
They made their way to the literature, science, and arts building, where Russell’s office was located. They climbed the steps to his floor, got turned around twice looking for his office number, and finally found his office with the door closed and a sign saying PLEASE WAIT. IF THE DOOR IS CLOSED, SOMEONE GOT HERE FIRST.
They sat next to each other on plastic chairs in the hallway. Fortunately, no one else was waiting, but Katie checked her watch and noticed there were only fifteen minutes left in his office hours schedule. She hoped he didn’t have an afternoon lecture.
“Feels like waiting for the principal,” Matt said.
“You never had to wait for the principal, did you?”
“Oh, I haven’t always been the upstanding citizen you now know. I was a rebel.”
“A rebel?” Katie laughed. “What did you do?”
“I do like a well-planned prank …”
“You’re kidding,” Katie said. “I saw you as a diligent student who got straight As and dated the cheer captain.”
Matt swiveled in his chair and looked at her in shock. “It’s like you don’t know me at all,” he joked. “I did get good grades, but alas, no cheerleader for me. I always thought they were overrated. All that bubbly excitement, and perfect hair. Who wants that?”
“Most high school boys,” Katie said.
“Not if they’re rebels.” Matt sat back and folded his arms.
Katie was about to pursue this interesting line of information when the door to Russell’s office swung open and a pretty young woman with too much makeup, skinny jeans, and high heels came into the hall.
“That was sooo helpful, Professor Hunt,” she said. “See you in class.” She tottered down the hall and turned the corner.
“Who’s next?” Russell said as he peeked his head out of his office. He saw Katie and Matt, and looked up and down the hall as if for an explanation. “Oh, it’s you. Are you here to see me?”
Katie and Matt stood. Matt nodded and said, “If you have a couple of minutes, we’d like to talk to you about Taylor.”
Russell narrowed his eyes and gestured that they should come inside. He shut the door and walked around to sit behind his desk. Matt gestured for Katie to take the student chair, and he leaned against the wall. Russell’s office was like many others, with bookshelves on one wall, diplomas framed and hung behind the desk, and a couple of potted plants that were actually healthy. What he didn’t have was piles of paper everywhere. Katie wondered what he did with all the papers and handouts he must collect.
“What can I do for you two?” he asked. “I don’t know anything about why Taylor is missing.”
“I know this is unusual, Russell,” Katie began. “I’ve been looking into some things, and I’m worried that maybe Taylor’s project put her in danger. If she had been interviewing people from Heather’s past, maybe she found out something that she shouldn’t have.”<
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“What could she have found out?” he said. “The case was closed years ago. The responsible party went to prison, and now he’s out.”
“It’s just that he always maintained his innocence.”
Russell snorted. “They all do, don’t they?”
“How well did you know Heather?” Katie asked.
Russell looked down at his desk. “I didn’t know her, not really.”
“I remembered why you looked so familiar the other night,” Matt said. “You were dating her just before she died.”
Russell looked up quickly, a flash of anger in his eyes that was quickly extinguished. Katie saw him relax his shoulders and take a deep breath.
“Yes, we had been dating, but it wasn’t serious,” he said. “In fact, I was sure she was seeing other people. I had started seeing someone else as well. Look, I don’t see how this is any of your business. The police investigated at the time.”
“You didn’t mind Taylor looking into the case?” Matt asked.
“Are you accusing me of something?” Russell sat very still, but Katie could sense the tension under the surface. She wondered if they had gone too far. They certainly weren’t going to have any pleasant double dates in the future.
“No, we aren’t accusing you,” Katie said. “I really like Taylor, and I think she has a lot of potential. I’m just worried about her and want to do something to help find her.”
Russell seemed to relax at this. “I really like her, too. She’s a rare student—enthusiastic, bright, original. I’d love to help, but I don’t know anything.” He held his hands out, palms up. “I don’t even know what she was working on exactly. She gave me a thumb drive with her outline and notes. I know it’s a little intrusive, but I like to be sure the students aren’t procrastinating too much, so I have a couple of checkpoints throughout the semester.”
“What’s on the thumb drive?” Matt asked.
Russell shrugged. “I have no idea. She turned it in before she … disappeared. But it’s password-protected. I don’t know if she forgot to take the security off or if she was being snarky, but I can’t access it.”
Katie and Matt exchanged a look. “Would you mind letting me take a look at it?” Katie asked. “I know someone who might be able to open it.”
Caleb would be thrilled with another USB to crack.
Russell opened a desk drawer and pulled out a small plastic storage container. He dug through it and pulled out a gray metal thumb drive with TAYLOR KNOX written on a piece of masking tape stuck to the side. He handed it to Katie.
“Send me the file if you manage to open it. I’m curious now about what might be on there.”
“Why didn’t you give this to the police?” Katie said.
Russell shook his head. “It didn’t even occur to me. I have papers she wrote earlier in the semester, and I didn’t turn those in. I wasn’t even thinking about it. This is likely to just be an outline and some scanned newspaper articles. I figured if something had happened to her, it had to do with her private life, not a school project.”
Katie stood. “Thank you for talking to us. Sorry for the intrusion.”
Russell nodded. Katie and Matt opened the door and stepped into the hall.
They headed down the hall to the stairwell, and after they had turned the corner, Matt leaned toward Katie and whispered, “He’s lying.”
26
She drove home in the fading golden light of a Michigan fall day. The air was crisp and the leaves bright on the trees. She knew that this time only lasted a short while, and it seemed every year she berated herself for not appreciating it enough during its brief moment.
She thought about Matt’s conviction that Russell was lying. She knew Matt was a good judge of people. Anyone working in the emergency room had to develop a sixth sense about whether someone was telling the truth. So many accidents occurred in ways that patients would rather not describe. So many people drank or did drugs more than they claimed. Even in her own work in her clinic, Katie herself had developed the talent. Being lied to on a daily basis imparted the ability to detect a fabrication. And a cynicism Katie had never expected.
But Matt had said it wasn’t just his innate lie detection system that had set off an alarm. He knew that Russell and Heather had been more than casual. She had told him so when she invited him to the Halloween party. The question Katie now struggled with was why. Why would Russell lie about something that happened ten years ago? She hoped whatever was on the memory sticks would help her figure that out.
Caleb’s car was in the driveway, which meant he was likely home. She banged into the house through the kitchen door and dumped her tote bag and purse on the table.
“Caleb?”
“In here,” he said.
He was ensconced, as usual, at the dining room table with papers and drawings spread around him. His laptop was open, and he had a large coffee cup steaming next to him. Caleb claimed he wasn’t a coffee drinker, that he only drank it occasionally when he needed the caffeine boost for late-night programming sessions. Katie thought that if you drank coffee every day and late into the evening, you were a coffee drinker, but who could argue with denial?
He stretched his arms over his head and suppressed a yawn, which triggered a yawn in Katie until they both started laughing.
“You’re too empathic,” Caleb said.
“Goes with the job, I guess.”
“I don’t think so,” he replied. He studied her for a moment as if considering saying more.
“Look what I have,” Katie said. She pulled the memory stick out of her pocket and handed it to him.
“Ooh, what’s on here?” Caleb loved breaking into password-protected devices. It was like a hobby for him. Some people liked crosswords; he liked computer hacking.
“I’m not sure, but I’d love to find out.”
“It’s got a password?”
Katie nodded.
“How many of these are you going to bring home?” Caleb asked. “I haven’t even cracked the other ones yet. But I do need a break from worrying about this app.”
Only Caleb would see hacking into a thumb drive as a break from coding an app.
Katie went to her room and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. She wasn’t planning to go back out again and always changed out of her work clothes as soon as she could after getting home. It was like taking off a costume. Gone was the efficient physician who advised people about their health all day, listened to complaints and worries, and always maintained a professional distance. She could rid herself of Dr. LeClair and become Katie again. Sometimes unsure, occasionally doubtful of her own skills, but dedicated and passionate about her career. It was exhausting sometimes to keep up the facade of objective, but warm, efficiency.
She went out to the kitchen to see what the refrigerator might offer for dinner. Finding some chicken breasts close to their expiration date and salad makings that also had seen better days, she began making a quick chicken salad with mustard sauce. “Are you here for dinner?” Katie called into the dining room.
“If you’re cooking, I’m staying home for dinner.”
Katie rolled her eyes. Caleb seldom thought of food until he was starving and then ran out to fast-food places. He had a couple of standby recipes he could make, and Katie tried to keep the ingredients on hand in case he was inspired. They had both been too busy to shop recently, hence the scrounged dinner.
She put in her headphones and listened to Frank Sinatra while she cooked. No one could help her forget her worries like Frank.
27
At nine o’clock that evening, Caleb triumphantly presented a folded piece of paper.
“You did it?”
“The regular one was easy to crack, and that helped me to open the animal ones. Sorry it took so long,” Caleb said.
Katie couldn’t wait to see what was on the memory sticks.
She found her laptop under some unfolded but clean laundry on the table in her room. The computer wok
e up slowly as she put the gray memory stick in the slot and waited.
Staring at the screen, she sat back and watched as one file popped up. It was a sketchy outline of her project and a couple of pages of notes. Just as Russell had said, it wasn’t very helpful. Katie’s shoulders slumped.
She pulled out the metal thumb drive and replaced it with the monkey. This time, file upon file scrolled in the USB window. It was as if Taylor had been running a full private investigation. She had police reports, some interview excerpts, and notes. Lots of notes. Taylor had really taken this project seriously. Katie wondered why she hadn’t shared all of this with her professor. It made Katie sad, looking at all her hard work and wondering if her diligence had put her in danger. Could she have found some missed piece of evidence that had made one of her interview subjects nervous?
If these notes pointed to a different killer, then someone did have a dangerous secret. And that caused a cold shiver of dread.
She flipped open her notebook and got to work.
She clicked on the NOTES file, hoping that it would give her a summary of what Taylor had been thinking. Instead, it led to more questions.
Katie opened the file marked TIMELINE and saw that it focused on the night of the party. It was a scanned copy of notebook paper with multiple erasures and cross-outs. Taylor had written in the arrivals and departures of Heather and her close friends. From what Katie could tell while squinting and trying to read Taylor’s handwriting, things had gotten messy around ten o’clock. It was unclear who had still been at the party, who had seen Heather last, and when people had left. Katie wasn’t surprised. She would not want the job of tracking movements during a large college party where alcohol was the main entertainment.