by Diane Weiner
Snow flurries melted as they hit the windshield. The roads were dark and she didn’t pass a single car. Not one. She did, however, keep on the lookout for deer crossing the road, and fallen rocks. If she got stuck out here, she’d be stranded. I think I have to turn up there. Her hands were shaking as they gripped the steering with a death hold. Breathe in and out, in and out.
Found it. She got out of the car. It’s not too late to go back. The driveway was empty, but she noticed tire tracks in the dirty snow. I have to do this for Ellie.
Pulling her scarf tighter, she worked her way closer, stepping on dried branches that had fallen off the bare trees. One step at a time. You can do this. She crept to the window, ducked underneath, and carefully peered inside. Too dark. As much as she strained, she couldn’t see inside. Creeping around to the back, the wind blew snow flurries onto her face. Wiping them away, she saw something on the ground. A hospital ID badge. Jailyn Peter’s badge. This is proof she was here!
She couldn’t wait to call Phil and tell him to get a squad car out to search. She grasped the badge in her cold hand and was ready to head back to the car. Then everything went black.
Chapter 15
She woke up shivering, her hands numb, her face burning. The back of her head throbbed.
“Wake up! Come on, Sara. We have to get you out of here before you get frostbite. Wake up.” Travis shook her gently, then more aggressively.
“I’m…I’m okay.” She tried to sit up, felt nauseous, then lay back down.
“We have to get you home.” Travis helped her up. “What happened? What are you doing here?”
“I tried to call you. You weren’t home.” She rubbed her head.
“I got your message.” He put his arm around her and started walking her toward the car. “I thought you had more sense than this.”
“I had to. I overheard Jailyn. I know Preston is staying here. Had to find proof before they fled.”
“According to the detective, if he was ever here, he’s long gone. They searched here, remember?”
“Look, I found this. Jailyn’s ID badge.” She opened her fist. “It’s gone!”
“Are you sure? Look around.”
“No, I had it right in my hand. She must have taken it.”
“Or Preston did.”
“Where were you, anyway? I called, I knocked at your door.”
“I was out.” He hesitated. “Playing Poker with the guys.”
She hadn’t heard him mention a single friend since she’d gotten into town, let alone a Poker game. He was on a date. I know it. Stop; it’s not your business. “How did you know where to find me? Or that I was in trouble?”
“I told you. I got your message and knew if you headed to the cabin it might be trouble. Come on, let’s get you to the hospital.”
“Hospital? No, I’m okay, really. I just want to get home.”
“You might have a concussion.”
“And if I do? There’s not much they can do at the hospital. If I start seeing double or throwing up, I’ll call you ASAP. You will be home, right?”
“I’ll be home. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Sara fell asleep the moment she hit the bed. She hadn’t had the strength to brush her teeth or change out of her clothes. When she woke, head pounding like she’d been out on a drinking binge, Panther was purring, asleep on her pillow.
“You stood guard all night, didn’t you, kitty?”
Panther opened his eyes and nuzzled against her, butting her with his head.
“I know, you’re hungry.” She looked at the alarm clock. An hour later than her usual wakeup time. After gulping down a few Excedrin, she formulated a plan. Shower, breakfast, head to the police station. Oh, and fill up Panther’s bowl with a can of Fancy Feast. He deserved a treat for keeping watch over her last night.
By the time she got in the car, her tsunami of a headache had ebbed into a strong rip current. She thought about her ‘date’ with Phil and hoped he’d be busy when she arrived. Not that he wasn’t a good catch, as her mother would say. She’d had a perfectly pleasant time, but the chemistry wasn’t there and Phil as much as told her he was hungry for a serious relationship. Besides, at this moment two important issues were foremost on her mind. Would she be able to continue her career as an orchestral musician, and who murdered her childhood friend?
When she walked into the station, she went directly to her mother’s desk. Phil’s office door was closed.
“Sara, what are you doing here? Did someone try to break into Ellie’s again?” Her mother’s face wrinkled with concern.
“No, Mom. I just need your help.”
“Detective Lambert said he took you to dinner last night. I think he likes you.”
“It was a first date, if you’d call it that. Look, I don’t want him to know I’m looking into this, but can you run a check on Dr. Jailyn Peters?”
“Grandpa’s doctor? Why? Did Detective Lambert date her? She went out with Preston Montague and well…you don’t need to be involved with anyone who has a psycho ex-girlfriend in the closet.”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that. I think she may have a connection to Ellie’s murder, but Phil swears she has an alibi. If I probe him further, he’ll think I don’t trust his competence.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Can you start by seeing if she has a police record? Maybe do a background check?”
“I can see if she’s in the system. Jailyn. Pretty name. How does she spell it again?”
Sara spelled it out and waited while her mom searched. Mom looks like she’s worked here forever rather than a few months. Maybe she’d have been happier having a career in addition to raising me and Scott. Can you be fulfilled being only a wife and mother in this day and age? Montagues and company aside, can anyone afford to raise a family on one income?
Patty slapped the desk. “Sara, your hunch may be right. According to this report, Jailyn Peters was brought in on battery charges a while back. She attacked a man and was ordered into anger management classes. I should’ve checked her out myself before taking Grandpa to her.”
“I knew there was more to her. Does it say his name?”
“Will I get arrested for telling you? I’m sure this is confidential information.”
“Mom, it’s me. I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s for Ellie. If Jailyn Peters had anything to do with Ellie’s murder, I have an obligation to get the info to the police, but right now, I have no evidence.”
“Okay. His name is David Coleman. You can’t let on where you got this or I’ll be fired or worse. Here’s the address I have. Can’t promise he hasn’t moved since then.”
“Thanks, Mom.” She kissed her on the cheek.
Phil Lambert’s door flew open. A woman dressed in a fur coat shouted, “If you don’t find that ring soon, I’m going after your badge. We have connections in this town. Important connections.” She slammed the door and strutted past Sara and her mother, leaving the heavy scent of Opium perfume behind her.
Sara let out a sneeze, reviving the pain in the back of her head. “What was that all about?”
“That’s Mama Montague. She’s been in here practically every day since the engagement was called off. The ring was an irreplaceable family heirloom and she wants it back.”
“They didn’t find it when they searched Ellie’s house?”
“Apparently not. It takes all kinds. You wouldn’t believe some of the folks who walk through those doors. It could be a reality TV show. The Real Wackos of Hudsonville.”
“Think they’d keep you on as the office manager turned narrator?”
“I’d insist. Can you stop by for dinner? You can bring Detective Lambert.”
“I’ll have to play it by ear. No Detective Lambert, though. I just saw him last night and don’t want to seem over anxious.” Truth is, she didn’t want to let it slip she was investigating the good doctor.
Sara looked him up and verified the address. David Coleman
was a real estate agent whose office was downtown near the Greek diner. She headed straight there. She immediately recognized him from the picture on his website.
“Can I help you?”
“Hello, my name is Sara Baron. I’m hoping you can.”
“Have a seat. Want some coffee? It’s vanilla peppermint.” He poured her a cup before she had a chance to decline. “How many bedrooms and baths are we looking at?”
“Oh, no. I’m not here to find a house.” Although if my leave of absence from the symphony becomes permanent, I’ll likely be back. No, I take that back. I’ll more likely be broke and living in my parents’ basement.
“Then what can I do for you?”
“I’ll get right to the point. My childhood friend has been murdered. I was supposed to house-sit for her, but when I got there, I discovered her body.”
“Ellie Rossi. You’re the one who found her? I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. I have some questions regarding Dr. Jailyn Peters.”
“Are you with the police?”
“Do I look like a detective?”
“A reporter?”
“No, I promise”
He was easily convinced and eagerly started to talk. “That witch. Excuse my French. What do you want to know?”
“I know she dated Ellie’s fiancé at one time and I was wondering if it was possible she became jealous and retaliated.”
“Killed your friend? She popped my tires, all four of them, when she saw me out on a date after we broke up.”
“Go on.”
“Then a week or so later, she followed me home from a date. Pulled in behind me in my own driveway and started beating me with a tire iron. Caught me by surprise so she did some damage.”
“That’s awful. Did you report her?” She knew he did, but wanted to hear it from his own lips.
“I called the police immediately. She was charged with battery and the court ordered her to attend anger management classes. Got a hefty fine as well. Just to be safe, I filed for a restraining order.”
“And she’s stayed away?”
“Shortly after that, she took up with the Montague kid. Then I saw the engagement between Montague and your friend in the paper so I figured things didn’t work out with him either.”
“Thank you for the information.”
“Hope it helps. Sorry for your loss. Oh, there’s one more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“The judge mentioned something about this not being her first offense. Something about how she got off easy last time because she was a med student and if he ever saw her in his court again she’d be facing felony charges.” He looked at the clock over his desk. “I have to meet a client at a property. Hope I’ve been helpful.”
“Very much so.”
Sara sat in her car and contemplated her next step. Med school. I wonder if she went to med school locally? She googled Jailyn Peters and read through her credentials. Jailyn Peters graduated from Irving Medical College, less than an hour away.
Chapter 16
She wasn’t sure what she’d gain from visiting, but here she sat at the entrance of Irving Medical College. While sitting in front of the real estate office, she’d turned on the car radio, trying to decide whether or not to make the trip. A well-timed commercial convinced her. The announcer said, “Begin a fulfilling medical career at Irving Medical College.” A clear sign she should pursue this lead.
Evergreen trees lined the entrance to the college, which consisted of several stone buildings, covered in ivy. It had been years since Jailyn Peters was a student here. Sara pulled open the heavy, oak door to the admissions office.
“Excuse me. I was wondering if I can get a catalog? I’m considering a career change.” Ha. Maybe not so far off the mark.
The receptionist said, “So all the programs are listed in here along with the courses needed to complete the program.”
“I have to apply, then pick classes?”
“Yes. If you’re accepted into a program, you can access the course offerings, meeting times, and professors online.”
“I had an old friend who did her medical degree here. Has the program changed much in the past 15 years or so?”
“We have new offerings such as radiology tech, and we began a physical therapy assistant program back a few years ago, but the standard medical school program hasn’t changed. You can find the outline beginning on page 20.”
“I’m sure there’s turnover, but are some of the same professors here from when my friend attended?”
“Our professors tend to stay until they retire, so yes. There are some.”
“And do your students ever return to teach here?”
“It’s happened, but only after they’re in practice for a while.”
“Thank you.”
“Best of luck. Get your application in early!”
Sara wandered into the coffee shop and browsed through the catalog. She had no idea where to start. She was hoping to find more evidence that Jailyn had a history of violent behavior fueled by jealousy, and all she had to go on was a vague comment about an incident she had in med school. She flipped through the section on faculty bios.
Here’s a woman who’s been here for the past twenty years. She teaches anatomy. And here are two more that would have been here when Jailyn was a student. What next? Go up to them and ask if they remember a student who beat up her ex-boyfriend or his new girlfriend in a jealous rage?
She wandered through to the faculty offices and read the names. The first one she’d marked, Dr. Shaw, had hours posted, but none today. She checked her list. Dr. Floyd, anatomy. Now what?
As she was deciding her next step, the door opened.
“Can I help you?” The professor was middle aged and wore tortoise shell glasses.
“I’m Sara Baron. I know this sounds weird, but my friend has been murdered and I’m doing all I can to help the police look in the right direction. My friend had ties to a Dr. Jailyn Peters, a past student here. It’s a long shot, but I was wondering if you remember her.”
“Blonde, looked like a model? I do.”
Sara’s adrenaline kicked in. “That’s great. Did you ever hear of an incident where she threatened another student? Or that student’s significant other?”
“I’m sorry, but it would be unethical to give out that sort of information, even if I knew something.”
“She was in your anatomy class, right?”
“Yes, and she took anatomy lab as well. I can’t help you, I’m sorry.”
As she turned to walk away, Sara said, “Did she have lab partners, or a TA that knew her?”
The doctor hesitated. “The secretary in charge of the lab has been here a long time and fancies herself the med school historian.” She added in a whisper, “She’s a bit of a gossip.” She nodded at a map hanging in the corridor. “Good luck. I have to get to my class.”
Excited at the obscure clue, Sara looked at the wall map and found where the lab was located. She walked across the courtyard, into an older brick building, and down a flight of stairs where she ran right smack into the receptionist’s desk. It had to be a sign.
“Excuse me, I was told you are the go-to person in regards to the history of this place.”
A plump blond wearing a Jets football sweatshirt looked up from the romance paperback she was reading. “What can I do you for?”
“My name is Sara. Sara Baron. I grew up near here and am back for the holidays. I’ll cut right to the chase. My childhood friend was murdered.”
“Oh my God. Are you talking about that poor girl in Hudsonville?”
“Yes. Ellie Rossi. I think she may have been murdered by a jealous ex, or more likely, the girlfriend of a jealous ex.”
“How can I help?”
“The woman’s name is Jailyn Peters. She was a student here quite a few years ago.”
“Blond? Looks like a Barbie doll?”
“That’s her. What do you remember about her?”
“She and her lab partner were an item that whole first year…well, up until I’d say April or May. He broke up with her and started dating another first year student. That student nearly died. A hit and run. Everyone suspected it was Jailyn.”
“Why did they suspect her?”
“Cause she ranted about how she was going to get even. They had a big shouting match right here in front of my desk. Then she went into the lab, grabbed a gurney and rammed it right into the poor girl. That was the day before the accident.”
“Did they arrest her?”
“Nope. No proof. What does that have to do with your friend’s murder?”
“Jailyn Peters dated Ellie’s fiancé. I’m trying to make a connection. There’s little to go on since everyone liked my friend.”
“A leopard doesn’t change its spots. And they’re hard to catch. I added that part myself.”
“Clever. Leopards run fast, hard to catch…I appreciate your help.”
“Anytime. Hope you find whoever killed your friend.”
Sara got back into the car. Now what? She’d found more evidence pointing at Jailyn as the killer, but it was all hearsay. If only she’d have been able to hold onto that ID badge…
Not having much of a schedule, she thought about going home and practicing, but she didn’t have the energy to cope if her hand acted up again. Dad said the business is running behind. Maybe I can make myself useful. She headed toward her parents’ house. No one was home, as she’d suspected. She walked around back to the shop.
“Hey, Dad. Need some help?”
“I won’t turn down help. Especially if it means working alongside my daughter. I miss having you around.”
“Where’s Grandpa?”
“Probably went for a walk. He does that sometimes, tries to keep his hip from freezing up. Can you polish the new oboe I just finished? It’s on the stand.”
“Sure. Looks beautiful. Who’s it for?”
“The young guy who just got the principal position in Atlanta.”
“I saw an entry about Atlanta in Great Grandfather’s logbook. I’ll bet he made the instrument for the former principal, too.” She grabbed the logbook and flipped through. “Here it is. Sent to Atlanta. I recognize the name of the oboist.”