A Story to Kill (19 page)

Staring at the number, she grabbed her cell and dialed. Reaching voice mail, she left a message asking someone to call her, leaving her number, but not any details. Maybe the mom would think she was from the college.

Cat would play that role, if—she stopped and corrected herself—when Gloria's mother returned her call. Positive thinking made the path easier. She grinned at her mental gymnastics and dove into her writing.

Two hours later, she was on the first floor and heading into the dining room when she heard a noise that sounded like it was coming from Michael's study. Frowning, she turned left and went down the hallway to his door. The large walnut door was shut tight. Cat leaned in, her ear on the cool wood. Nothing.

She turned the doorknob and slowly swung the door open. There, sitting at Michael's desk was Linda Cook, a laptop open in front of her and tears streaming down her face.

“Linda? What's wrong?” Cat didn't ask what she was doing in the office. It was partially her fault. No one had told Linda where she could go and what was off limits. Before the next retreat, she needed to get some
PRIVATE
signs to mark out the personal space. And until she had Michael's study cleaned out, this had to be kept private.

The woman didn't even look up. “This is probably the best thing Tom ever wrote. I can't believe he won't be here to finish the story.”

“Is it about what happened to Gloria?” Cat crossed the room and stood in front of Michael's oversized desk.

“Don't worry about that. You really need to leave Gloria alone. The girl never hurt anyone.” The other woman slammed shut the laptop and stood. “All I meant was the man was a genius wordsmith.”

Cat doubted Linda's explanation, but she didn't press the issue. She decided to change the subject. “Are you coming to breakfast? I'm sure some of the guests will be leaving today, if you want to say good-bye.”

“I've got to make some calls, but I'll try to get downstairs before anyone leaves.” Linda breezed past her, a laptop tucked under her arm. Cat really wanted to get a peek at Tom's last manuscript, but asking the woman for the manuscript seemed forward. Cat straightened the books on Michael's bookshelf, then stopped as her hand touched a book on third-world countries and their economic building power. He'd never been interested in economics of anything but what he'd called the privileged countries. In fact, Michael had bragged how Dean Ngu had promised he'd never have to teach the one session on third-world economics that Covington offered.

Maybe he'd lost his pull with the dean after their divorce. Glancing around the bookcase, she found several other books on the subject. Just another thing about Michael she wouldn't ever understand.

Her phone buzzed and checking the display, she realized it was the return call she'd been waiting for. “This is Cat Latimer. Thanks for returning my call.”

A pause at the other end made Cat wonder if the woman would hang up on her. “I'm sorry, but how can I help you?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me about the circumstances around your daughter's disappearance.” Cat thought about how to play the request. “I'm a writer and I'm looking into the problem of women disappearing from college campuses. I understand your daughter was never found?”

“No, Gloria was never found.” The woman cleared her throat. “I'm really not comfortable talking about this.”

“Maybe I could drop by and explain my project a bit.” Cat bit her lip as she waited for the woman to respond.

“I'm sure you'll do really well with your studies, but I'm not interested in dragging up the past. Please don't call me again.” The line disconnected.

Cat put the phone in her purse and wondered what mother wouldn't want a spotlight that could bring out new information about where her daughter was or how she was killed. It was almost like Gloria's mother knew exactly what had happened to her daughter.

Chapter 19

“You're lost in thought.” Shauna refilled Cat's coffee cup before sitting down next to her at the table. “Is Seth on your mind?”

Cat hid her smile by taking a sip of her coffee. “Seriously, I don't live and breathe for that man. I do have other thoughts in my head.”

“Child, if he looked at me the way he looks at you, all I'd be able to think about is taking that fine specimen to bed.” Shauna pulled out her calendar. “So Billy's flight leaves at noon, which gives me thirty minutes before I have to leave. Is Daisy staying over since Rose has been detained with your uncle?”

“Let's hope detained is all that happens.” Cat popped the last bit of banana nut muffin into her mouth and brushed her hands off over her plate. “I'll talk to her right now before I go up to write. I have to visit the library at noon, so if I'm not here when you get back, come get me. I still don't like the thought of you here alone.”

“Not alone, remember? Seth is here finishing the cleanup on Tom's room since your uncle released the scene last night. I guess with the pictures and the rest, they have everything they might need for trial.” Shauna's voice dropped off as the door to the kitchen opened. Daisy stood there, a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of fruit in the other.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Shauna stood and rushed over to the woman, holding the door open.

Daisy shook her head. She looked on the verge of tears. “I was just wondering, if, you didn't mind, could I eat in here with you? The dining room is so empty without Rose.”

“Of course,” Cat stood and pulled out a chair. “I should have invited you. We were wondering if you've made any plans for today?”

“Am I leaving on my five p.m. flight, you mean?” Daisy shrugged. “I hate to leave Rose all alone here, but I can't afford to stay. Besides, they're expecting me back at my job at the hotel. I'm their bookkeeper, and I bet they haven't even made a deposit since I've been gone.”

Cat looked at Shauna who nodded. This needed to be both of their decision, since what she was about to say would affect the bottom line. Sometimes, everything wasn't about money. “Daisy, if you want to stay, we won't charge you a room fee. You'll have to pay for your own food, but you wouldn't have to worry about the room.”

Daisy shook her head. “That's very kind of you, but I'm heading home. We have responsibilities there, and I need to take care of things until Rose can make her way home. My sister is a survivor. I'm sure she's filling a notebook right now with a story she's sure will sell millions.” Cat watched as Daisy's lips curved into a smile making her look younger than her years.

“If you decide to come back, the door's always open.” Cat stood and gave the woman a hug. “I'm heading up to my office to work. If you want, you can come with me to the library. I'll be walking over about eleven forty-five.”

“I'd like that.” Daisy nodded. “There are several citations I'd like to get in case I can't find any of the same research books at home.”

Cat filled up a travel mug with coffee and left Daisy and Shauna talking about muffin recipes. She would miss the women when they left. Of course, she could and would visit Rose in jail until they figured out she couldn't be the murderer. She had taken the first step on the riser when she stopped and came back down.

Something had looked off, and when she scanned the hallway again, she saw it. The door to Michael's study was ajar. She was going to find a key and lock it up so people couldn't just wander in.

She walked down the hall and pushed the door open. “Look, I hate to be rude, but this room is off limits.”

No one responded to her. The room was completely empty. Feeling foolish, she walked the edges of the room, and even checked under the desk and in the closet. No one. She went back to the door and pulled it shut behind her, checking the catch to make sure it held. Maybe she hadn't closed it when she'd found Linda in the room earlier. That was the only explanation that made any sense at all. But she knew she was fooling herself—she had closed the door solidly behind her the last time she'd left the room. And yet the door had been open a few minutes later.

Shaking off the eerie feeling that she was being watched, Cat climbed the stairs to her office, closing the door soundly behind her and, feeling silly, turning the lock in the knob. At least no one could sneak up behind her today.

Turning on her computer, she opened the word-processing program and got lost for a few hours. When she looked down at her computer screen, she realized Daisy was probably already waiting for her downstairs. Reluctantly, she saved the document, then made a couple of notes to settle her back into the story when she sat down tomorrow. With the retreat winding down, she'd soon be able to settle in for several hours a day, which would ensure she met deadline.

Humming to herself, she pulled open her office door and stopped short. There, on the floor in front of her, was a single white carnation, her favorite flower. Michael used to tease her that she had the sophistication of a schoolgirl, but he'd stopped bringing her roses after she declared her love for the simple, cheaper flower. It was hard for her to believe that Seth would have remembered after all these years, but logically, it was the only explanation.

Then why did her hand shake when she reached down to grab the stem?

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Daisy was sitting on the lobby couch reading her notebook. She looked up and smiled when she saw Cat, but something made her smile dim. The woman stood and walked over to Cat. “Are you okay, my dear?”

Nodding, Cat laid the flower on the reception desk. “I'm just a little distracted, that's all. Let me grab my tote, and we can get going.”

Daisy waited nearby, but Cat could feel the woman's watchful gaze on her.
Fake it until you make it.
Cat repeated the mantra silently three times, then pasted on a fake smile as she stuffed her notebook into her bag. She turned around and faced Daisy. “Let's go.”

As they walked past Mrs. Rice's yard, Daisy touched the white picket fence. “It must be nice to live here. It feels a little like a village in a fairy tale.”

She'd never thought of it that way. “You're right; it was a great place to grow up. We had the great outdoors for our backyard, and if we wanted something more cultural, we had the college for plays and stuff. I remember attending the community sing-along every Christmas and learning ‘Hallelujah' standing in between my mom and dad. I know it sounds corny, but that is one of my favorite memories of my childhood.”

“It's sweet, not corny. You're very lucky to have good parents. Do they still live in town?” The pace was a little slower than Cat's normal stride, but it allowed them to carry on a conversation without any trouble.

“The folks turned into snow birds and are already down in Florida setting up their winter life. I don't think they spend more than two months here in Colorado now. My dad complains if it's too cold.”

“I totally understand. When we signed up for the retreat I prayed it would be a warm fall. My arthritis gets pretty bad during the winter.” Daisy absently rubbed the joints in her hands. “Rose still loves making snow angels. I'll leave that to the younger group.”

Campus was empty when they arrived. The library could open at two in the afternoon on Sundays and no one would notice. Either the students were catching up on some needed sleep, or they were sleeping off too much fun on Saturday night. The only people Cat typically saw on Sundays were the professors who were either working on their pet project or, more likely, looking for the next career move to get them tenure. She held the glass door to the library open for Daisy. “You ready to come inside?”

Daisy ducked inside to the cool foyer and walked through the double doors. Miss Applebome was sitting at the front desk, watching them enter. “I need to talk to the librarian,” Cat said. “Do you want me to find you when I'm ready to leave?”

Daisy smiled and patted Cat's shoulder. “Don't worry about me. I'll head home in time to get my bags packed and ready for Shauna to drive me to the airport. I am a grown woman, you realize.”

Cat must have blushed because she felt the heat on her cheeks. “I didn't mean you couldn't walk home alone, I just wanted to offer you a walking companion. If you wanted it.”

“Oh, dear, and I just bit the hand that feeds me. So, so sorry. My only excuse is I'm not sleeping well.” Daisy nodded toward the librarian. “You go do your thing. I'll be fine.

Cat watched her walk to the bank of elevators and push the button. She turned toward Miss Applebome. “No time like the present,” she mumbled to herself.

The woman pretended to be busy as Cat approached the checkout desk. “Are you lost? I don't think I've seen you this much since you were building your lesson plans that first year.”

“I wanted to know if you knew anything more about Tom, Linda, Larry, and Gloria.” She watched the woman's face closely.

“If I'd known something, I would have told you.” She pushed a stack of books away, then leaned into her chair. “What are you thinking I might know?”

“I'm trying to figure out what happened to Gloria. Did she just leave? And if so, why? And what did the other three know about her disappearance?” Cat slipped into a seat next to the desk. “What do you think happened?”

At first, Cat didn't think Miss Applebome was going to say anything besides “get out of my chair.” But then she started talking about the old days. “You have to understand. We didn't know we had any power back then. Oh, some girls knew they had power over men, but if you didn't use your sexuality to increase your position, you were just here biding time until your marriage.”

“And Gloria knew how to play the game?” Cat asked. “I saw the picture of her and Tom. From the look on Linda's face, she wasn't too happy about what was happening.”

“There were rumors that Gloria and Larry were fighting. Several times she missed school, and when she did come back, she wore long sleeve sweaters for a while.” The librarian studied me. “Back then, you didn't get involved unless you knew for certain. And we didn't.”

“So what do you think happened to Gloria?” Cat pressed the question.

“I hope that she's safe somewhere, living a new life.” Miss Applebome sighed. “But if I had to guess, I figure she was a victim of foul play.”

Cat stood and paused at the desk. “I'm going upstairs to see if I can find any clues. Thank you for your time and honesty.”

“I hope you find her.” She turned away and started working on her computer. Cat knew she'd gotten everything she could from the discussion.

As she climbed the stairs, she thought about the picture and Linda's glare. Could she have taken out her rival? And what did this whole thing have to do with Tom's death, if anything?

Cat pulled everything published in the four years the Cooks had attended Covington: yearbooks, student handbooks, even the worn editions of
The Cove
, the department's literary magazine. On a whim, she grabbed the two years after the Cooks left as well.

Two hours later, she closed the last yearbook. Except for a few candid photos and snide comments written in faded ink about the cheerleaders' outfits, she hadn't learned anything new. The only thing she had left was to review
The Cove
.

She flipped through the first two years quickly, but in the third year she noticed that Linda was listed as one of the editors. Slowing her scanning down, she was impressed with the opening essays that Linda had penned. The woman had a nice voice, especially when she was opining about who she felt was oppressed in the world.

Like women.

It was in the last
Cove
she opened that she found the clue. The journal had been dedicated to all women fighting for their lives and their dignity. The last words of the paragraph chilled Cat's bones. She read aloud: “Especially those who can't fight for themselves anymore.”

* * *

By the time she made it back to the house, the SUV was back in the driveway. One guest gone, and two to go. Well, three, if you counted Rose, but she was technically staying in Uncle Pete's own version of a bed and breakfast: a cot and three hots. Sara had been released after her parents posted bail, and they had whisked her away to their home. Shauna had gotten a call telling her where to send the few belongings Sara had left in her room.

All in all, if you didn't count the murder, the vandalism, or the attack, the retreat had been a success. She sank into one of the white rockers on the front porch. Who was she kidding? The retreat had been a disaster. Why had she thought this would be a good idea? Cat put her feet up on the seat and hugged her knees in tightly.

“Uh, oh. I know that look. What are you obsessing over now?” Seth's deep baritone caused her to look up into his eyes. “And you're crying. Why are you crying, Kitty Cat?”

She waved her arm wildly at him. “Don't call me that, and I'm not crying.”

“You think I don't know tears when they fall on your cheeks?” He sat on the porch rail and looked at her. “Tell me what's wrong?”

She wiped away the evidence and put on an amusement-park soda-jerk smile. “I'm just worn out and worried about my new venture. I probably should have thought about the negative things that could happen during a writer's retreat, rather than just all the fun when I was planning.”

“You couldn't plan for what happened this week.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Seriously, Cat, I'm not sure how you got through finding Tom, much less all the other crap that's gone on. You're a strong woman.”