by David Archer
"What about this last girl?" she asked. "I saw her here not more than a couple days ago. She can't be… I mean, there's no way that…"
"That's Angela Lambert," Pete answered, surprised that she genuinely seemed to have no idea who most of her regular customers were. "She’s alive, but there was an attempt to kidnap her yesterday that almost succeeded. We believe she may be the next intended victim."
"Oh, my God," Jennifer said.
"Have you ever noticed anything odd around here, especially anything that concerned these girls?" Pete asked.
"Like what?"
"Was there anyone who might have paid a lot of attention to them, anybody who seemed to be particularly interested in these four girls? He's probably a younger fellow, and he might be pretty intelligent. He also probably hangs around the coffee shop for a long time, maybe even past closing, sometimes. Anything like that ring any bells?”
"I can't think of anyone in particular," Jennifer admitted. "especially not in regards to people staying past closing time. The only person I've ever had trouble with about that was Zoe, and—well…" She allowed the thought to trail off.
"Can you think of any…"
The door to the kitchen abruptly opened, cutting Pete off mid-sentence. The barista stood in the doorway, looking as if he was on his last bit of patience.
"Ms. Cargill,” he said quickly, “I really can't stand Molly. She's making my headache absolutely horrible. If I have to keep training her, I'll have to call in another sick day."
"A lousy headache is no reason to call in sick, Alan," Jennifer said sternly. "If you keep abusing your sick leave, I'm going to have to replace you."
"Good luck with that," Alan replied, just as acidly. The two glared at each other ferociously before Jennifer admitted defeat with a sigh.
"I'll deal with Molly," she said, annoyed. "Mr. Dixon, I'm afraid I've run out of time. If you still have questions, feel free to direct them at Alan." With a final glare at her employee, Jennifer left the kitchen.
Alan stared at her momentarily in shock before turning toward Pete. "Is there anything I can help you with?" he asked quietly.
Pete thought for a moment before deciding that more eyes and more points of view couldn't be a bad thing. "I'm Pete Dixon, a private investigator," Pete said, shaking the man's hand.
"Alan Batts," the barista replied.
Pete picked up the photos that he had just shown the manager and showed them to the barista. "Do you know any of these girls?" he asked.
Alan stared at the photos for barely a couple seconds. "Oh, yeah, they used to come in here all the time," he said. "Juliana, Adrienne, Zoe, and… Angela, right? I heard about the first three on the news, I was really sorry to hear about what happened to them. They were good people, all of them."
"You knew them well?" Pete asked, curious as to the seemingly genuine, if almost terribly dramatic response to the deaths.
"Oh, no, not really. I only ever saw them in here, but I was always glad to see them." He grinned, but there was a sadness in it. “They brightened up the place, you know?”
"Did you notice anyone who would pay them particular attention? Someone who would linger around, especially if one of those girls were there?"
Alan thought carefully before his eyes widened. "Jackie," he answered quietly.
"Who?"
"His name is Jackie, but I don't remember his last name. I think he studies pharmacology at the university. Students hang out here all the time, but this guy would come every day without ordering anything. He looks around for girls, and basically just hits on them the whole time he’s here. I'm pretty sure I remember him hitting on them as well."
"Is there anything else you can think of?" Pete asked. Alan opened his mouth to answer when they all heard Jennifer call out for her barista. Alan rolled his eyes at his boss before shaking his head and apologizing.
"Thank you for your help," Pete said, and turned to go. Alan went back to work while Pete headed out the door and back to his car. As he climbed inside, he sat back to consider what he’d just learned.
The barista’s reaction to the deaths of the women seemed real, but he almost gave the impression that he was trying to make sure Pete would think so. It might not be anything, but then…
He took out his phone and called Josie, back at the office. “Hey, honey,” he said. “I need you to see what you can find out on someone named Jackie, no last name at the moment. Might be a pharmacy student. Hangs out at Caffeine Alley a lot.”
Josie sighed. “Any idea what he might look like? No, don’t answer that, I know what you’ll say. Okay, I’ll find him for you.”
“Thanks, beautiful. And while you’re at it, see what you can find on Alan Batts, the barista here. He may be fine, but something about him seems just a little off.”
“Batts, got it. Any other miracles you want me to whip out of my sleeve?”
Pete laughed. “How about blowing me a kiss?”
He could hear the smile in her voice. “Okay, that one I can handle.”
* * *
Upon arriving at the university, Chance and Carol strode into the building with purpose and a security officer directed them to the lecture room where Professor Harmon was speaking at that moment. When they arrived, they knocked politely on the door, showed their IDs and announced that they needed to speak with Dr. Lance Harmon. The man, obviously embarrassed with this intrusion, tried to play it off.
"Sorry, folks, but it will have to wait. I'm in the middle of a lecture. Perhaps on my lunch hour I could drop by the police station and help you guys out," he said with a grin.
"We're here to talk about a string of murders in the area," Carol said.
Harmon gave her an annoyed glance. "And I said, I'll help you when I get some free time."
"Zoe Castellanos was a student of yours, who was known to have problems with you and was found dead a few days ago," Chance tried again, with a fierceness that almost worried Carol. "We can ask our questions in private, or we can drag you down to the Southeast Area Substation right now. It’s your call."
Lance Harmon froze. He glared slightly at the private investigators, but thought of public humiliation overshadowed everything.
"I'll be with you in just a moment," he said and gestured toward the exit. "I'll be right back, everyone. In the meantime, your graded papers are on my desk. Look through it." Lance smiled and then turned back toward the door. The students were all staring, but they broke into loud whispers as their professor walked away.
Chapter 18
Harmon turned back around to face the pair of them, his eyes looking worried.
"Look, I know what this is about, so let me just start by saying I had nothing to do with Zoe's death," he said in a rush. "I know she and her friends tried to file a complaint, but we talked it through and we both reached an agreement that everything was just a misunderstanding. I have a wife and kids. I wouldn't jeopardize that for anything."
"What's your connection with Juliana Willets and Adrienne Moore?" Carol asked, ignoring his comments for the moment.
"Who?" The look on his face appeared genuinely confused.
Carol pulled out the photos of the victims and showed them to Lance. To his credit, he did take a good look at them and study them, then shook his head and handed them back.
"I'm sorry, I have no idea who they are," he told them.
"What about this girl?" Carol asked, pulling out the last photo.
Lance studied the photo before raising his eyebrows in shock. "Angela? What does she have to do with this?"
"She's been targeted by the same person who targeted the other girls," Carol explained. “He made an attempt to kidnap her last night, in fact, but she somehow got lucky. She’s safe, for now.”
"And given the history between you two, we thought it might be a good idea to talk with you," Chance added on.
"What history?" Lance asked, seeming genuinely confused.
"The complaints she filed against you, regarding y
our inappropriate comments and behavior."
"Wait a minute, hold on," the professor said, holding his hands up as if to ward off something bad. "What complaints? What are you talking about?"
"Angela Lambert. According to her, she's filed multiple complaints against you due to your inappropriate behavior and your rude comments," Chance continued, just getting angrier. "Zoe Castellanos apparently isn't the only girl who has felt uncomfortable around you, so apparently you just have that effect on everyone. What you're doing is called harassment."
"But, wait a minute, Angela? Angela Lambert?”
“Yes,” Chance said “Angela Lambert. She says you’ve made a number of comments that she thought were quite inappropriate, and that she’s made complaints about it before. Considering that two of the victims seem to have found their way onto your bad side, we thought it might be a good idea to have a talk with you, professor.”
“But Angela never filed any complaints against me,” Harmon said. “She made the comment to me once that she thought I was too flirtatious, so I toned it down and that was that.”
“That’s not her story,” Carol said. “According to her, she has made complaints.”
“I'm telling you, she hasn't filed any complaints against me," Harmon said. "Not ever. Look, Angela is my colleague, I'm not interested in her. I've got a family, I certainly wouldn’t just throw that away. And besides, she's got…"
"Having a family doesn't make you a saint, Harmon." The contempt in Chance’s eyes was obvious.
"Chance," Carol interrupted sternly, giving him a warning glare.
Chance paused and took in a deep breath, but clearly did not relax. He had just opened his mouth, prepared to give another speech, when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and saw Jake's name. "I gotta take this," he muttered and walked away. Carol sighed and turned back to Harmon.
"I'm sorry about that. He was out of line," she said apologetically.
"I suppose he has kind of a point," he said quietly, staring after Chance. He turned his eyes back to Carol. "I swear to you, I never had any actual complaints from Angela," he insisted.
"But you've gotten complaints before?" Carol asked.
"Verbal ones, yes. I guess my sense of humor is taken as flirtatious, sometimes, but I apologize and it's pretty much forgotten. I just naturally assumed Angela would do the same. I mean, she always just laughed it off like it was no big deal."
"Did you notice anything odd in Zoe Castellanos' actions before she disappeared? Did she seem to avoid anyone in particular, or seem hostile to anyone?"
"No, sorry, not that I noticed," Harmon said, barely thinking about it.
Carol sighed, not appreciating how little help she was getting. "What about Angela? Have you noticed anything unusual about her these past few days?"
This time, he paused and thought about it. "She's definitely seemed a bit more stressed lately. At first I thought it was trouble in paradise, you know? But she said that wasn’t it, and it's not work related, I made sure of it. I know her dad's always on her mind, him being a cop and everything, so I think it's probably got something to do with that. The longer he's in that job, the more stressed she gets. I don't know how that'd be important, but there you go."
Carol nodded. "It’s sometimes the details that people think are the least important that end up cracking the case," she assured him. "Thank you."
It was at this point that Chance finished his phone call and returned to the two. "That was Jake," he explained. "He’s pretty convinced there's no way Harmon's our guy," he continued, as if the man in question wasn't there. "He's Angela's supervisor for the research position she's after, which would only bring them closer together in the near future, not further apart." Carol nodded, understanding what that meant.
"So we're back to square one," she concluded. "Hopefully Pete got a lead."
"Hopefully," Chance agreed, before turning back toward Lance. "You may not be guilty of murder, but you’re still an ass."
"Excuse me?"
"Chance," Carol said, but Chance wasn’t listening.
"You abuse the power you have over these girls. You're a respected professor at a prestigious university, and you use your position to harass young women, knowing full well they won't say a word because that could ruin their chance at a career in a highly competitive field." Chance paused and took in Lance's shocked expression, glad he was on the right track. "I get a feeling that Castellanos and Lambert aren't the first, and probably won’t be the last. You call yourself a family man, but one of these days this abuse will bite you in the ass, and we'll all see what kind of a family man you really are."
Chance didn't wait for a response, but turned to walk away. Carol stared after her partner in shock. She threw an apologetic look at Lance and ran after Chance. They entered the car in silence, the only sound coming from buckling their seat belts. Chance pushed the starter button and sat there, staring at the road in front of him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Carol asked tentatively.
Chance tensed up, put the car in drive, and headed toward the substation. The rest of the ride was spent in silence.
* * *
The PDI team had regrouped in the conference room of the substation. It had been a long day, and with the daylight slowly fading, the team just wanted to get the last bit done. Carol had already called Josie and asked for her to dig up more information, as had Pete, so when they arrived, the only thing the group had to do was catch each other up on what had happened. Jake and Tina explained that they thought Angela was hiding something, which could be crucial to the case. Pete told them all about the new lead on Jackie and his suspicions regarding the barista, Alan Batts.
Agent Roberts arrived and got a quick recap of what she had missed; she’d been talking with McCord about a couple of dead leads he’d thought of, which had made her a bit late.
Chance and Carol picked it up then, agreeing with Jake's assumption that Harmon was not involved in the case, but then went on to tell them the little piece of information they did gain about Angela’s worry about her dad. Of course, they left out Chance's outburst about Harmon’s abuse of power.
Just as they were finishing off, Pete’s phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Josie calling, then made sure to put her on speaker. "Hey, honey,” he said. “Have you already got something for us?"
“Well, I'm not finished with all of the stuff you guys have been asking for, but I do have a name for you, which seemed like it may be the most important thing to get back to you with. The pharmacy student that you wanted me to find, his name is Jackie Myers. It was pretty easy to track, I looked at the loyalty cards for customers who frequent Caffeine Alley, and no, you do not want to know how I got into that database, and searched for Jackies. I crossed out any non-students, before cross checking for any pharmacology students. That gave us Jackie Myers. He's originally from Missouri, which is where his parents and brother still live. He's in his final year here and already has a job offer for when he graduates. I've done a quick background check on him, and he's clean as a whistle. There’s no family trauma, no early signs, no known mental or emotional problems, no criminal record, not even a parking ticket. This guy is about as clean as anyone I have ever looked into.”
"He was noticed for a reason," Pete said calmly. "Chance, Carol, once we're finished here, I want you two to go ask questions." The two investigators nodded in understanding. "Did you find anything else, honey?"
“I did, or rather, I didn't. You told me the other day to look into Angela a bit more, and I did. I'm not finished, but I did find something. Her mother did not just die when she was eight. She was murdered. It's listed as a burglary gone wrong, but nothing was taken. Lewis was just a patrolman back then, but the lead detective on the case was Jason McCoy’s father, Floyd.”
"As sad as that is, what does it have to do with our case?" Tina asked.
“Well, this may be something, or it may not, I'm still digging. Floyd McCoy, Jaso
n’s father, worked on the case steadily for about a year. Since then, the case had been reclassified as a cold case and hasn’t been touched at all, not even once. Two months ago, the online archives were breached for the first time, and one month ago, the files were hacked and copied. Commander Motley is trying to get to the bottom of it, but with no luck.”
"The timing's a bit suspicious," Pete said.
“Exactly my thoughts. So I've started my own little investigation, and I'm trying to track the IP address as we speak, but whoever was behind this sure put up a lot of protection.”
"Thanks, Josie," Pete said gratefully.
"What was the other half thing?" Chance asked.
“Oh, I'm glad you asked. It's not much, but Pete asked me to dig a bit deeper into the riddle that is Alan Batts, only to find out that this riddle isn't just a riddle. It's more like a Chinese puzzle box, and one that seems a lot more complicated than you would expect to find around somebody serving coffee.”
"Josie?” Pete asked with a grin. “Would you care to put that into English for us?"
“I know hardly a thing about this guy. All I know is that he is thirty years old, his father walked out on him and his mother when he was a baby, he seemed to be the perfect kid until his middle teens, and he has some pretty serious mommy issues. His mother put him in a mental hospital when he was fifteen, for no reason anybody ever wrote down, but he was only there for a couple of weeks before she went and picked him up.”
"And nobody knows why?" Chance asked.
“Not that I can find, but I'm digging, and I will find out. Since then, he’s been quiet, had a few menial jobs like the one he has now, but he’s never been in trouble. His mother moved in with him a year or so back, but she passed away about six months ago, so he’s alone, now.”
"Thank you, Josie," Pete said. "Keep us posted."
“I always do, babe,” Josie said, and the call was ended. Everyone at the table let out the breath they hadn’t realized they were holding. The case was just getting more and more complicated, with elements that didn’t even always seem to make sense. So many secrets were being kept, and so many suspicious characters were involved that it seemed like they had fallen into the Twilight Zone.