Blindsighted (11 page)

Hank shrugged, rubbing his hands together. He was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt, and the needle tracks up his arms were on full display. Lena felt a rush of embarrassment. She had only seen Hank in Reece, where everybody knew about his past. She had seen the scars so many times that she had almost blocked them out. Now she was seeing them through Jeffrey's eyes for the first time, and she wanted to run from the room.

Hank seemed to be waiting for Lena to say something. She stumbled, managing an introduction. "This is Hank Norton, my uncle," she said. "Jeffrey Tolliver, chief of police."

Hank held out his hand, and Lena cringed to see the raised scars on his forearms. Some of them were half an inch long in places where he had jabbed the needle into his skin, looking for a good vein.

Hank said, "How d'you do, sir."

Jeffrey took the offered hand, giving it a firm shake. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances."

Hank clasped his hands in front of him. "Thank you for that."

They were all silent, then Jeffrey said, "I guess you know why we're here."

"About Sibyl," Nan answered, her voice a few octaves lower, probably from crying all night.

"Right," Jeffrey said, indicating the sofa. He waited for Nan to sit, then took the space beside her. Lena was surprised when he took Nan's hand and said, "I'm so sorry for your loss, Nan."

Tears welled into Nan's eyes. She actually smiled. "Thank you."

"We're doing everything we can to find out who did this," he continued. "I want you to know if there's anything else you need we're here for you."

She whispered another thank-you, looking down, picking at a string on her sweat pants.

Jeffrey asked, "Was anybody angry at you or Sibyl, do you know?"

"No," Nan answered. "I told Lena last night. Everything's been the same as usual lately."

"I know that Sibyl and you chose to live kind of quietly," Jeffrey said.

Lena got his meaning. He was being a lot more subtle than she had been last night.

"Yeah," Nan agreed. "We like it here. We're both small-town people."

Jeffrey asked, "You can't think of anybody who might have figured something out?"

Nan shook her head. She looked down, her lips trembling. There was nothing else she could tell him.

"Okay," he said, standing. He put his hand on Nan's shoulder, indicating she should stay seated. "I'll let myself out." He reached into his pocket and brought out a card. Lena watched as he cupped it in one hand and wrote on the back. "This is my home number," he said. "Call me if you think of anything."

"Thank you," Nan said, taking the card.

Jeffrey turned to Hank. "Do you mind giving Lena a ride home?"

Lena felt dumbstruck. She couldn't stay here.

Hank was obviously taken aback as well. "No," he mumbled. "That's fine."

"Good." He patted Nan on the shoulder, then said to Lena, "You and Nan can take tonight to put together a list of the people Sibyl worked with." Jeffrey gave Lena a knowing smile. "Be at the station at seven tomorrow morning. We'll go over to the college before classes start."

Lena didn't understand. "Am I back with Brad?"

He shook his head. "You're with me."

Wednesday

Chapter Eleven

BEN Walker, the chief of police before Jeffrey, had kept his office in the back of the station, just off the briefing room. A desk the size of an upended commercial refrigerator was in the center of the room with a row of uncomfortable chairs in front of it. Every morning, the men on the senior squad were called into Ben's office to hear their assignments for the day, then they left and the chief shut his door. What Ben did from this time until five o'clock, when he could be seen scooting down the street to the diner for his supper, was a mystery.

Jeffreys first task when he took over Ben's job was to move his office to the front of the squad room. U sing a skill saw, Jeffrey cut a hole in the Sheetrock and installed a glass picture window so that he could sit at his desk and see his men and, more important, so that his men could see him. There were blinds on the window, but he never closed them, and for the most part, his office door was always open.

Two days after Sibyl Adams's body had been found, Jeffrey sat in his office, reading a report that Maria had just handed him. Nick Shelton at the GBI had been kind enough to rush through the analysis on the box of tea. Results: it was tea.

Jeffrey scratched his chin, looking around his office. It was a small room, but he had built a set of bookshelves into one of the walls in order to keep things neat. Field manuals and statistical reports were stacked alongside marksman trophies he had won at the Birmingham competitions and a signed team football from when he had played at Auburn. Not that he really played. Jeffrey had spent most of his time on the bench, watching the other players build careers for themselves.

A photograph of his mother was tucked into the far corner of the shelf. She was wearing a pink blouse and holding a small wrist corsage in her hands. The photo was taken at Jeffreys high school graduation. He had caught his mother giving one of her rare smiles in front of the camera. Her eyes were lit up, probably with the possibilities she saw in front of her son. That he had dropped out of Auburn a year from graduation and taken a job on the Birmingham police force was something she still had not forgiven her only child for.

Maria tapped on his office door, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a doughnut in the other. On Jeffrey's first day, she told him that she had never fetched coffee for Ben Walker and she wasn't about to fetch it for him. Jeffrey had laughed; the thought had never occurred to him. Maria had been bringing him his coffee ever since.

"The doughnuts for me," she said, handing him the paper cup. "Nick Shelton's on line three."

"Thank you," he said, waiting for her to leave. Jeffrey sat back in his chair as he picked up the phone. "Nick?"

Nick's southern drawl came across the line. "How you?"

"Not so great," Jeffrey answered.

"I hear you," Nick returned. Then, "Got my report?"

"On the tea?" Jeffrey picked up the sheet of paper, looking over the analysis. For such a simple beverage, a lot of chemicals went into processing tea. "It's just cheap store-bought tea, right?"

"You got it," Nick said. "Listen, I tried to call Sara this morning, but I couldn't find her."

"That so?"

Nick gave a low chuckle. "You're never gonna forgive me for asking her out that time, are you, buddy?"

Jeffrey smiled. "Nope."

"One of my drug people here at the lab is hot on this belladonna. Not many cases come in, and he volunteered to give you guys a face-to-face rundown."

"That'd be an awfully big help," Jeffrey said. He saw Lena through the glass window and waved her in.

"Sara talking to you this week?" Nick didn't wait for an answer. "My guy is gonna want to talk to her about how the victim presented."

Jeffrey bit back the cutting remark that wanted to come, forcing some cheerfulness into his voice as he said, "How about around ten?"

Jeffrey was noting the meeting on his calendar when Lena walked in. As soon as he looked up, she began speaking.

"He doesn't do drugs anymore."

"What?"

"At least I don't think so."

Jeffrey shook his head, not understanding. "What are you talking about?"

She lowered her voice, saying, "My uncle Hank." She held her forearms out to him.

"Oh." Jeffrey finally got it. He had not been sure if Hank Norton was a past drug addict or had been in a disfiguring fire, his arms were so scarred. "Yeah, I saw they were old."

She said, "He was a speed freak, okay?"

Her tone was hostile. Jeffrey gathered she had been stewing on this since he had left her at Nan Thomas's house. So, this made two things she was ashamed of, her sister's homosexuality and her uncle's past drug problem. Jeffrey wondered if there was anything in Lena's life other than her job that gave Lena pleasure.

"What?" Lena demanded.

"Nothing," Jeffrey said, standing. He took his suit coat off the peg behind his door and ushered Lena out of the office. "You got the list?"

She seemed irritated that he did not want to chastise her for her uncle's old drug habit.

She handed him a sheet of notebook paper. "This is what Nan and I came up with last night. It's a list of people who worked with Sibyl, who might have talked to her before she…" Lena did not finish the sentence.

Jeffrey glanced down. There were six names. One had a star drawn beside it. Lena seemed to anticipate his question.

She said, "Richard Carter is her GTA. Graduate teaching assistant. She had a nine o'clock class at the school. Other than Pete, he's probably the last person who saw her alive."

"That name sounds familiar for some reason," Jeffrey said, slipping on his coat. "He's the only student on the list?"

"Yes," Lena answered. "Plus, he's kind of weird."

"Meaning?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "I've never liked him."

Jeffrey held his tongue, thinking that Lena did not like a lot of people. That was hardly a good reason to look at someone for murder.

He said, "Let's start with Carter first, then we'll talk to the dean." At the entrance, he held the door open for her. "The mayor will have a heart attack if we don't go through the proper protocols with the professors. Students are fair game."

The Grant Institute of Technology's campus consisted of a student center, four classroom buildings, the administrative building, and an agricultural wing that had been donated by a very grateful seed manufacturer. Lush grounds surrounded the university on one side, with the lake backing up to the other. Student housing was within walking distance of all the buildings, and bicycles were the most common mode of campus transportation.

Jeffrey followed Lena to the third floor of the science classroom building. She had obviously met her sister's assistant before, because Richard Carter's face soured when he recognized Lena at the door. He was a short, balding man who wore heavy black glasses and an ill-fitting lab coat over a bright yellow dress shirt. He had that anal-retentive air about him that most of the college people had. The Grant Institute of Technology was a school for geeks, plain and simple. English classes were mandatory but not exactly difficult. The school was geared more toward turning out patents than socially evolved men and women. That was the biggest problem Jeffrey had with the school. Most of the professors and all of the students had their heads so far up their asses they couldn't see the world in front of them.

"Sibyl was a brilliant scientist," Richard said, leaning over a microscope. He mumbled something, then looked back up, directing his words to Lena. "She had an amazing memory."

"She had to," Lena said, taking out her notebook. Jeffrey wondered not for the first time if he should let Lena ride along with him. More than anything, he wanted her underfoot. After yesterday, he did not know if he could trust her to do what he told her to do. It was better to keep her close by and safe than let her go off on her own.

"Her work," Richard began. "I can't describe how meticulous she was, how exacting. It's very rare to see such a high standard of attention in this field anymore. She was my mentor."

"Right," Lena said.

Richard gave her a sour, disapproving look, asking, "When's the funeral?"

Lena seemed taken aback by the question. "She's being cremated," she said. "That's what she wanted."

Richard clasped his hands in front of his belly. The same disapproving look was on his face. It was almost condescending, but not quite. For just a moment, Jeffrey caught something behind his expression. Richard turned, though, and Jeffrey was not sure if he had been reading too much into things.

Lena began, "There's a wake, I guess you'd call it, tonight." She scribbled on her pad, then ripped the sheet off. "It's at Brock's Funeral Home on King Street at five."

Richard glanced down his nose at the paper before folding it neatly in two, then again, then tucking it into the pocket of his lab coat. He sniffed, using the back of his hand to wipe his nose. Jeffrey could not tell if he had a cold or was trying not to cry.

Lena asked, "So, was there anyone strange hanging around the lab or Sibyl's office?"

Richard shook his head. "Just the usual weirdos." He laughed, then stopped abruptly. "I guess that's not altogether appropriate."

"No," Lena said. "It's not."

Jeffrey cleared his throat, getting the young man's attention. "When was the last time you saw her, Richard?"

"After her morning class," he said. "She wasn't feeling well. I think I caught her cold." He took out a tissue as if to support this. "She was such a wonderful person. I really can't tell you how lucky I was that she took me under her wing."

"What did you do after she left school?" Jeffrey asked.

He shrugged. "Probably went to the library."

"Probably?" Jeffrey asked, not liking his casual tone.

Richard seemed to pick up on Jeffrey's irritation. "I was at the library," he amended. "Sibyl asked me to look up some references."

Lena took over, asking, "Was there anyone acting strange around her? Maybe dropping by more than usual?"

Richard shook his head side to side again, his lips pursed. "Not really. We're more than halfway through the term. Sibyl teaches upper level classes, so most of her students have been here for a couple of years at least."

"No new faces in the crowd?" Jeffrey asked.

Again Richard shook his head. He reminded Jeffrey of one of those bobbing dogs some people put on their dashboards.

Richard said, "We're a small community here. Somebody acting strange would stick out."

Jeffrey was about to ask another question when Kevin Blake, the dean of the college, walked into the room. He did not look happy.

"Chief Tolliver," Blake said. "I assume you're here about the missing student."

Julia Matthews was a twenty-three-year-old junior majoring in physical science. She had been missing for two days, according to her dorm mate.

Jeffrey walked around the young woman's dorm room. There were posters on the wall with encouraging statements about success and victory. On the bedside table was a photograph of the missing girl standing beside a man and a woman who were obviously her parents. Julia Matthews was an attractive girl in a plain, wholesome way. In the photograph, her dark hair was pulled into pigtails on either side of her head. She had a snaggled front tooth, but other than that, she looked like the perfect girl next door. As a matter of fact, she looked very much like Sibyl Adams.

"They're out of town," Jenny Price, the missing girls dorm mate, supplied. She stood in the doorway wringing her hands as she watched Jeffrey and Lena search the room.

She continued. "Its their twentieth wedding anniversary. They went on a cruise to the Bahamas."

"She's very pretty," Lena said, obviously trying to calm the girl. Jeffrey wondered if Lena noticed the similarity between Julia Matthews and her sister. They both had olive-colored skin and dark hair. They both looked to be about the same age, though Sibyl was in fact ten years older. Jeffrey felt uncomfortable and set the picture down as he realized that both women resembled Lena as well.

Lena turned her attention to Jenny, asking, "When did you first notice she was missing?"

"When I got back from class yesterday, I guess," Jenny answered. A slight redness came to her cheeks. "She's been gone overnight before, right?"

"Sure," Lena supplied.

"I thought maybe she was out with Ryan. That's her old boyfriend?" She paused. "They broke up about a month ago. I saw them at the library together a couple of days ago, around nine o'clock at night. That was the last time I saw her."

Lena picked up on the boyfriend, saying, "It's pretty stressful trying to have a relationship when you've got classes and work to do."

Jenny gave her a weak smile. "Yeah. Ryan's in the agricultural school. His workload isn't nearly as heavy as Julia's." She rolled her eyes. "As long as his plants don't die, he gets an A. Meanwhile we're studying all night, trying to get lab time."

"I remember what it was like," Lena said, though she had never been to college. The easy way lies came to her both alarmed and impressed Jeffrey. She was one of the best interviewers he had ever seen.

Jenny smiled and her shoulders relaxed. Lena's lie had done the trick. "You know how it is, then. It's hard to make time to breathe, let alone have a boyfriend."

Lena asked, "They broke up because she didn't have enough time for him?"

Jenny nodded. "He's her first boyfriend ever. Julia was really upset." She gave Jeffrey a nervous glance. "She really fell hard for him, you know? She was sick, like, with grief, when they broke up. She wouldn't even get out of bed."

Lena lowered her voice, as if to leave Jeffrey out. "I guess when you saw them in the library, they weren't exactly studying."

Jenny glanced at Jeffrey. "No." She laughed nervously.

Lena walked over, blocking his view of the girl. Jeffrey took the hint.

He turned his back to the two women, pretending to take an interest in the contents of Julia's desk.

Lena's voice dropped to a conversational tone. "What do you think about Ryan?"