The Daughters Of Alta Mira (Quill Gordon Mystery Book 4)

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The Daughters Of Alta Mira (Quill Gordon Mystery Book 4) Page 15

by Michael Wallace


  “Any leads?” Gordon asked.

  “He called just before the parade to tell me he’s still going, but he said he’s already talked to three teachers who should be arrested for perversion. I told him to refer it to the vice squad.”

  “You have a vice squad in a county this size?” Sam said.

  “Of course not. That was my point. But the problem is, I don’t know how much of that is Howard and how much there might actually be to it, meaning someone is worth a harder look. I’ll have to spend a lot of time with him at the end of the day trying to figure that out. I don’t have the time or the energy for that, but there it is.”

  “Anything from the crime scene experts?”

  “Where Jessica was killed — not a thing beyond what we found on Sunday. If the killer had lost a couple of hairs on Thursday, the wind would have blown them away by now. And our killer didn’t oblige us by dropping a button or a cigarette butt. Bob’s studio, on the other hand, had so much interesting stuff they didn’t know where to start. Fingerprints all over the place, and God knows how old they were and how many people they might have belonged to. A lot of seemingly insignificant litter on the floor. I gather that studio was cleaned every Wednesday, and it was coming on five days. Even if we strike gold in all that stuff, we might not know which piece of it is the nugget. In conclusion, we have too much and too little.”

  “And two dead bodies and two missing persons,” Gordon said.

  Chris’s expression changed, and she said nothing for several seconds, while Gordon and Sam waited expectantly.

  “Actually, that’s not right.”

  “There’s another body?” Gordon asked.

  “There’s another missing person, and she fits the profile. But she’s not from here.”

  Gordon and Sam looked at each other.

  “On the second Monday of each month,” she continued, “there’s a meeting of the sheriffs of four counties in this corner of the state. We talk about what’s going on in crime, training issues, political concerns, whatever. The meeting was at 3:30 yesterday, and for obvious reasons, I didn’t make it. But Leon Kinninger, the sheriff of Ponderosa County, just south, called me this morning.

  “It seems that on Friday October 17, a female student named Tiffany Reese disappeared after leaving an afternoon class at Ponderosa Community College. Nobody saw anything, and when they started asking questions after a few days, a couple of her friends said she’d been hinting at a secret boyfriend, though they were skeptical. Because of that, they didn’t pursue it too far. But she hasn’t turned up, and now, with Jessica’s body being found, they’re ramping up their investigation.

  “So if Tiffany didn’t run off with some young man, we may have a serial killer operating on a much larger scale than we suspected.”

  There was a long silence, before Gordon replied:

  “And it might not be someone from this county?”

  “Possible, but not likely. Three of four student victims from here, plus Bob, tells me it’s a local, though I’d love to have it turn out otherwise. Anyway,” she sighed, “I’m going to try to keep it quiet for as long as possible. What are you smiling about, Gordon?”

  “If Bob were around, it would be on the air tomorrow.”

  “Don’t I know it. But keep it to yourself. I don’t want it getting out because of you. Now, if there’s nothing else, I have work to do.”

  They rose to leave, but as Gordon turned toward the door, Sam spoke up:

  “How about the rape case? What’s happening with that?”

  “God forgive me,” Chris finally said, “but it’s barely on the radar. We’re stretched so thin on these murders and disappearances that there simply isn’t anyone to work on it. I’m afraid Alicia Rios is going to be a victim again, but unless somebody brings us something on a silver platter, I don’t see that case going anywhere soon.”

  HOMESTEAD COMMUNITY COLLEGE on the holiday looked like a ghost town. As Gordon and Sam drove to the parking lot near Elizabeth’s office, they passed no other cars and only two people — a pair of student joggers. In the near-empty parking lot they had their choice of spaces adjacent to the faculty offices.

  Elizabeth had asked them to arrive a few minutes before Hooper so they could prepare. She had a chair set out facing her desk and another to her right, in which she seated Gordon. Sam was seated in a corner chair, where he would be behind and out of sight of Hooper.

  “You were right,” she said, as Gordon and Sam sat down. “It was Harry Hooper that Bob met here on Sunday.”

  “How did you get him to come out and see you,” Sam asked from the corner.

  “I bluffed. I told him Bob had told me about meeting with him, and that Bob and I had been working together on this, and that I’d like to continue where Bob left off. He sounded a bit reluctant, but after a minute or so of gentle persuasion, he agreed to come out.”

  “So he doesn’t know that you know nothing,” Gordon said.

  “No, he does not. And part of your job, Gordon, is to help me make sure he doesn’t find out how little we know.”

  “And the other part?”

  “I figured that as an athlete yourself, you might be able to bond with him. Plus, I need a man for this. I barely know what an adult male is thinking, aside from the obvious, and I have no idea at all what’s going on in an adolescent’s mind.”

  Gordon thought about it for a minute, then said:

  “Well, if you go with the obvious, you’d probably be right about three-quarters of the time.”

  She exhaled a quick laugh and shook her head.

  “I grew up with two brothers in the house. I should have remembered.”

  A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and Elizabeth told the knocker to come in. The door opened, and Hooper took a step inside. He was six feet tall and a muscular 190 pounds. His light brown hair was cut close to his scalp, with no strand of it more than a half-inch long, and he looked as if he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, though the resulting growth was uneven. He was handsome in a callowness-of-youth sort of way, and when he registered Gordon and Sam’s presence in the room, he stiffened slightly and a look of apprehension crossed his face.

  Gordon stood up, extending his long arm and right hand.

  “I’m Quill Gordon, Harry. Bob and I go back a long time, to when we were in college together. I’m pleased to meet you.”

  Hooper shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Gordon.”

  “You can drop the ‘mister’ and just call me Gordon. Everyone else does.”

  Sam shook Hooper’s hand and introduced himself as well. Hooper relaxed slightly and sat in the offered chair.

  Elizabeth looked at Gordon, who remained impassive, and decided to start it off herself.

  “Thank you for coming out here today, Harry. It means a lot to me, and I know it would have meant a lot to Bob.” Hooper nodded. “I asked Gordon to be here because he’s an old friend of Bob’s who’s been following what’s been going on in town. Also, he used to be a star basketball player at Cal.”

  Hooper turned and looked at Gordon suspiciously.

  “A long time ago,” Gordon said.

  Elizabeth continued, “I know Bob would have wanted us to carry on, and that’s why we asked you here. We were hoping we might be able to pick up where you left off with Bob yesterday.”

  “And anything you say,” Gordon interjected, speaking softly, “stays in this room until you tell us otherwise.”

  Hooper, clearly trying to decide what to do, looked back and forth at Gordon and Elizabeth. Gordon, as if stalking a particularly wary trout, remained utterly immobile.

  “I guess you know we were talking about the party at DeShayne’s,” Hooper finally said.

  Elizabeth nodded, as if she’d known it all along.

  “Mr. Hastings was pressing me for details. Not in any kind of obnoxious way; he was pretty gentle. But he kept at it. I told him I had two problems with reporting what I knew. The first was chemi
stry. Our football team’s in the playoffs now, and I don’t want to do anything to upset the team chemistry and put us against each other.”

  “Chemistry,” Gordon said, “is vital to a team. I understand that, and I’ve seen what happens when it goes south. But it works in a lot of different ways. A sensational revelation can damage a team’s chemistry, but so can a cover-up. When everybody’s trying to keep the lid on something, it’s hard to stay focused on the game. Sometimes, it’s better to get it out in the open and move on so you can concentrate on playing your best.”

  Hooper nodded. “That’s sort of what Mr. Hastings said, too, and I finally told him I’d sleep on it.”

  “You said there were two problems,” Sam said from the back corner. “What was the other one?”

  “Well, that I really wasn’t there very long. I got to the party thinking the DeShaynes would be there, but it was just us, and the booze was already out. I don’t want you to think I’m a prude or anything; I mean, I drink some in the spring and summer. But all the football players signed a contract saying we’d lay off alcohol and tobacco from the beginning of practice through the end of the season. Not everybody takes it seriously, but my dad says when you sign a contract, you have to live up to it. So I have. When I saw all the alcohol out, and almost everybody drinking, well …”

  “You were a bit uncomfortable,” Gordon said. Hooper nodded. “I know how it is. When I was at Cal, cocaine was becoming a big deal. Anytime it came out at a party, I started looking for the exit.”

  “Maybe it’s easier when you’re older,” Hooper said. “But, yeah. It took me 20 minutes or so to finally slip out of there, I did notice that Kyle brought Alicia a drink, and Cody brought her another one not ten minutes later.”

  “Just to clarify,” Gordon said, “We’re talking about Kyle Burnett, the quarterback, and Cody Jarrett the wide receiver?”

  “That’s right. And though I wasn’t there long, I could tell that she was getting looser and louder faster than the other girls. I’m not sure she has much of a head for alcohol.”

  “Some people don’t,” Elizabeth said. “Would you say that when you left, she was still in control?”

  “Last time I saw her was about five minutes before I split. She was standing and laughing, and talking. Her voice was a bit slurred and she obviously had a buzz on, but for whatever it’s worth, I’d say she was still at least somewhat in control.”

  Gordon and Elizabeth looked at each other.

  “So then you left,” Gordon said. “Unless you saw something else, that doesn’t seem to give us much to work with. How come Bob was suggesting that you report what you knew?”

  Hooper looked surprised.

  “So Mr. Hastings didn’t tell you?”

  “Tell us what, Harry?” Elizabeth asked. Hooper looked at her, then at Gordon, realization finally dawning.

  “He didn’t tell you about the video?”

  AT MOMENTS LIKE THIS, I remember why I no longer play poker with Gordon. Elizabeth did a pretty respectable job of stifling her surprise, but there was a definite “tell” if you were looking at her, which Hooper wasn’t. Gordon, on the other hand, didn’t move a single muscle in his face or body. If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought he’d just been handed a grocery receipt, instead of a critical clue in a major crime case.

  After a few seconds, Gordon sat up a bit straighter and took a breath.

  “No, he didn’t, Harry. But I think he was about to when he was killed.”

  “Wait a minute. They don’t think he was killed over that, do they? I can’t believe it.”

  “The sheriff’s department doesn’t know what to think at this point. But from what he was talking about on the air, it sure sounded like it was a follow-up to his talk with you on Sunday.”

  “Whoever killed him might not have known that,” Elizabeth said, “but that’s one of the questions that still has to be answered.”

  “Listen, Harry,” Gordon said, “let’s set the video aside for a minute and talk about Bob’s murder. You want to see whoever did that get caught, don’t you?”

  Hooper nodded.

  “Then there may be something you can help with. You were in Bob’s radio class, right? Did you enjoy it?”

  “Yeah. It was real interesting to hear from somebody who does it for a living how it’s done.”

  “That’s exactly where you might be able to help. You’d know more about Bob’s radio techniques than we do.”

  “I guess.”

  “I’m going to show you something.” Gordon reached into his shirt pocket, took out the notebook and set it on the desk in front of Hooper. As Hooper leaned forward to read it, I stood up behind him to take a look. It was open to the page of Bob’s notes at the time he was shot:

  SBYM - TW

  Time - :30

  Geiser - Wed

  DS - Gurgle

  Wheaties

  “Does any of this mean anything to you?” Gordon asked. As Hooper leaned forward, he continued, “It’s just my handwritten copy of the original, so go ahead and pick it up if that helps you.”

  Hooper did and looked at it for several seconds.

  “Geiser probably means he wanted the coach on his show Wednesday or he was reminding himself to announce that coach was going to be on the show. I’m not sure which.”

  “That’s good,” Elizabeth said. “Anything else?”

  “The thing about time. He told us in class that you’re supposed to give the time at least once every half hour, and that even people who have been doing radio for years sometimes forget. I’m guessing he was reminding himself.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Gordon said.

  “I don’t see how,” replied Hooper. “That seems like pretty ordinary stuff.”

  “But now we can eliminate it and concentrate on the other three. A lot of a criminal investigation is eliminating unimportant things so you can get to the important ones. Do any of the other three things mean anything to you?”

  Hooper picked up the list, looked at it again, then set it down with a shake of his head.

  “Sorry.”

  “That’s all right. What you gave us was a big help.” He paused. “Now I don’t want to push you, but we want to finish what Bob started. If you can tell us about the video, that would help, too. But it’s up to you.”

  Hooper shifted in his chair. “That’s what Mr. Hastings said on Sunday. That it’s up to me.” He sighed. “If I tell you, will you promise not to let it go any further unless I say it’s OK?”

  Gordon looked at Elizabeth, who nodded.

  “That’s a deal, Harry. And if there’s anything you want to ask us, we’ll try to answer the best we can.”

  “Well, like I said, when the drinking started, I was getting uncomfortable at the party. About ten minutes before I left, Caitlin DeShayne went into her room and got out a video camera she’d been given for her birthday earlier in the month and started filming the party.”

  I sat there thinking, as the father of a daughter, this is what I have to be worried about.

  “That freaked me out,” he continued, “because I didn’t want to be seen in a video of a drinking party, even if I wasn’t drinking.”

  “I get the sense,” Gordon said, “that you take your obligations seriously. Your parents must have taught you to keep your word.”

  “Well, they taught me that the rules are the rules anyway. I don’t know if you relate to that.”

  “My father is a judge, so I understand the rule of law. And I understand that a contract, which is what you signed with the coach, is a contract.”

  “I know. Anyway, between the drinking and the filming, I wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.”

  “Did you see what she was filming?” Elizabeth asked.

  “She was kind of moving around the room, trying to get pictures of everybody, which was one of the things that creeped me out. I do remember that she got a shot of either Kyle or Cody — I don’t rememb
er which — giving Alicia a glass of something. I left just a few minutes after that, and I don’t know how long she kept filming or what she shot. That’s what I told Mr. Hastings.”

  “And what did he say?” Gordon asked.

  “He said I should tell the sheriff and the district attorney. I told him I wanted to think about it overnight. What do you think I should do?”

  “Before I answer, let me ask you a question. Why did you want to think about it?”

  “A couple of reasons, I guess. The big one is that I don’t want to let the team down, and these guys are my friends. I don’t really want to snitch on them. And also I’m not sure how important the video is, since I don’t really know what happened after I left. Do I really want to mess up the team’s chemistry and lose a couple of friends by going to the sheriff with something that may not even be important?”

  “That’s a good case you just made, but can I ask just one more question, Harry? Do you believe it?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I could. What would you have done if something like this happened when you played for Cal?”

  “I don’t know what I would have done, either, since it never happened. But I can tell you one thing. I know now what I should have done in a situation like that and what I’d wish I’d have done if it happened. I’d be sleeping a lot easier today if I’d reported it and let the chips fall where they may.”

  “And you wouldn’t have worried about team chemistry?”

  “Of course I would have. But what I know now and didn’t know then is that nothing hurts team chemistry more than having a cloud hanging over the team. If something bad happens, like losing a couple of key players, it’s easier to move on from that than it is to deal with a lot of uncertainty about what might happen next.”

  “And you wouldn’t have worried about snitching on your friends?”

  “Sure. But it’s one thing if you’re protecting them from a prank and another thing altogether when they may have committed a felony.”

 

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