Blindsighted (12 page)

"You mean, do I like him?"

"Yeah," Lena answered. "I mean, not like like him. I mean, does he seem like a nice guy?"

The girl was quiet for a while. Jeffrey picked up a science book and thumbed through the pages.

Finally, Jenny said, "Well, he was kind of selfish, you know? And he didn't like it when she couldn't see him."

"Kind of controlling?"

"Yeah, I guess," the girl answered. "She's from the sticks, okay? Ryan kind of takes advantage of that. Julia doesn't know a lot about the world. She thinks he does."

"Does he?"

"God, no." Jenny laughed. "I mean, he's not a bad guy-"

"Of course not."

"He's just…" She paused. "He doesn't like for her to talk to other people, okay? He's, like, scared that she'll see there are better guys out there. At least, that's what I think. Julia's kind of been sheltered all her life. She doesn't know to look out for guys like that." Again she paused. "He's not a bad guy, he's just needy, you know? He has to know where she's going, who she'll be with, when she'll be back. He doesn't like for her to have any time to herself at all."

Lena's voice was still low. "He never hit her, did he?"

"No, not like that." Again the girl was silent. Then, "He just yelled at her a lot. Sometimes when I would come back from study group, I would listen at the door, you know?"

"Yeah," Lena said. "To make sure."

"Right," Jenny agreed, a nervous giggle escaping. "Well, one time, I heard him in here and he was being so mean to her. Just saying nasty things."

"Nasty like what?"

"Like that she was bad," Jenny said. "Like that she was going to hell for being so bad."

Lena took her time asking the next question. "He's a religious guy?"

Jenny made a derisive sound. "When it's convenient. He knows that Julia is. She's really into church and all. I mean, she was back home. She doesn't go much here, but she's always talking about being in the choir and being a good Christian and that kind of thing."

"But Ryan's not religious?"

"Only when he thinks he can work her with something. Like he says he's real religious, but he's got all lands of body piercings, and he's always wearing black and he-" She stopped speaking.

Lena lowered her voice. "What?" she asked then, even lower. "I won't tell anybody."

Jenny whispered something, but Jeffrey couldn't make out what she was saying.

"Oh," Lena said as if she had heard it all. "Guys are so stupid."

Jenny laughed. "She believed him."

Lena chuckled with her, then asked, "What did Julia do that was so bad, do you think? I mean, to get Ryan upset at her like that?"

"Nothing," Jenny answered vehemently. "That's what I asked her later. She wouldn't tell me. She just lay in bed all day, not saying anything."

"This was around the time they broke up?"

"Yeah," Jenny confirmed. "Last month, like I said." There was worry in her voice when she asked, "You don't think he has anything to do with her being missing, do you?"

"No," Lena said. "I wouldn't worry about that."

Jeffrey turned around, asking, "What's Ryan's last name?"

"Gordon," the girl supplied. "Do you think Julia's in trouble?"

Jeffrey considered her question. He could tell her not to worry, but that might give the girl a false sense of security. He settled for, "I don't know, Jenny. We'll do everything we can to find her."

A quick visit to the registrar's office revealed that Ryan Gordon was study hall monitor this time of day. The agricultural wing was on the outskirts of the campus, and Jeffrey felt his anxiety build with every step they took across the campus. He sensed the tension coming from Lena as well. Two days had passed with no solid leads. They could very well be about to meet the man who had killed Sibyl Adams.

Granted, Jeffrey was not prepared to be Ryan Gordon's best friend, but there was something about the kid that set Jeffrey against him the minute they met. He had his eyebrow and both ears pierced as well as a ring hanging out from the septum in the middle of his nose. The ring looked black and crusty, more like something you would put in an ox rather than in a human nose. Jenny's description of Ryan Gordon had not been kind, but in retrospect, Jeffrey thought she had been generous. Ryan looked filthy. His face was an oily mix of acne and healing scabs. His hair looked like it had not been washed in days. His black jeans and shirt were rumpled. There was an odd odor coming off him.

Julia Matthews was, by all accounts, a very attractive young woman. How someone like Ryan Gordon had managed to snag her was a mystery to Jeffrey. This said a lot about the type of kid Gordon was, if he could manage to control someone who could quite clearly do a hell of a lot better than him.

Jeffrey noticed the kind part of Lena that had earlier worked Jenny Price was long gone by the time they reached the study hall classroom. She walked purposefully into the room, ignoring the curious glances coming from the other students, mostly male, as she made a beeline for the kid sitting behind the desk in front of the class.

"Ryan Gordon?" she asked, leaning over the desk. Her jacket pulled back, and Jeffrey saw the kid's eyes gave her gun a sharp glance. His lips stayed pressed into a tight, surly line, though, and when he answered, Jeffrey felt the urge to smack him.

Gordon said, "What's it to you, bitch?"

Jeffrey grabbed the kid up by his collar and duckwalked him out of the room. Even as he did this, Jeffrey was certain there would be an angry message from the mayor before he got back to the office.

Outside the study room, he pushed Gordon into the wall. Jeffrey took out his handkerchief, wiping the grease off his hand. "They got showers in your dorm?" he asked.

Gordon's voice was just as whiny as Jeffrey had expected. "This is police brutality."

To Jeffreys surprise, Lena gave Gordon an open-palmed slap.

Gordon rubbed his cheek, his mouth turned down at the corners. He seemed to size Lena up. Jeffrey found the look he gave her almost comical. Ryan Gordon was thin as a rail, about Lena's height if not her weight. She had attitude on him in spades. Jeffrey had no doubt that Lena would rip his throat open with her bare teeth if Gordon tried to push her.

Gordon seemed to understand this. He took on a passive posture, his voice a nasally whine, perhaps from the ring in his nose, which bobbed when he spoke. "What do you want from me, man?"

He held his arms up defensively as Lena's hand reached out to his chest.

She said, "Put your hands down, you pussy." She reached down into his shirt and pulled up the cross hanging on a chain around his neck.

"Nice necklace," she said.

Jeffrey asked, "Where were you Monday afternoon?"

Gordon looked from Lena to Jeffrey. "What?"

"Where were you Monday afternoon?" Jeffrey repeated.

"I don't know, man," he whined. "Sleeping, probably." He sniffed, rubbing his nose. Jeffrey fought the urge to cringe as the ring in his nose moved back and forth.

"Up against the wall," Lena ordered, pushing him around. Gordon started to protest, but a look from Lena stopped him. He spread his arms and legs out, assuming the position.

Lena patted him down, asking, "I'm not going to find any needles, am I? Nothing that would hurt me?"

Gordon groaned, "No," as she reached into his front pocket.

Lena smiled, pulling out a bag of white powder. "This isn't sugar, is it?" she asked Jeffrey.

He took the bag, surprised that she had found it. This would certainly explain Gordon's appearance. Drug addicts weren't the most conscientious groomers in the world. For the first time that morning, Jeffrey was glad to have Lena around. He would never have thought to frisk the boy.

Gordon glanced over his shoulder, looking at the bag. "These aren't my pants."

"Right," Lena snapped. Spinning Gordon around, she asked, "When was the last time you saw Julia Matthews?"

Gordon's face registered his thoughts. He obviously knew where this was leading. The powder was the least of his problems. "We broke up a month ago."

"That doesn't answer the question," Lena said. She repeated, "When was the last time you saw Julia Matthews?"

Gordon crossed his arms in front of his chest. Jeffrey realized instantly that he had mishandled this whole thing. Nerves and excitement had gotten the better of him. In his mind, Jeffrey said the words that Gordon spoke aloud.

"I want to talk to a lawyer."

Jeffrey propped his feet on the table in front of his chair. They were in the interview room, waiting for Ryan Gordon to be processed. Unfortunately, Gordon had kept his mouth closed tighter than a steel trap from the minute Lena read him his rights. Luckily, Gordons roommate at the dorms had been more than happy to allow a search. This had yielded nothing more suspicious than a pack of rolling papers and a mirror with a razor blade lying on top of it. Jeffrey wasn't sure, but judging from the roommate, the drug paraphernalia could have belonged to either boy. A search of the lab where Gordon worked did not add any additional clues to the pot. The best-case scenario was Julia Matthews had realized what an asshole her boyfriend was and split.

"We fucked up," Jeffrey said, resting his hand on a copy of the
Grant County Observer
.

Lena nodded. "Yeah."

He took a deep breath and let it go. "I suppose a kid like that would've lawyered up anyway."

"I don't know," Lena answered. "Maybe he watches too much TV."

Jeffrey should have expected this. Any idiot with a television knew to ask for a lawyer when the cops showed up at your door.

"I could have been a little softer," she countered. "Obviously, if he's our guy, he wouldn't exactly be happy to have a woman pushing him around." She gave a humorless laugh. "Especially me, looking just like her."

"Maybe that'll work some in our favor," he offered. "What about I leave you two alone here while we wait for Buddy Conford?"

"He got Buddy?" Lena asked, her tone indicating her displeasure. There were a handful of lawyers in Grant who took on public defender work for a reduced fee. Of them all, Buddy Conford was the most tenacious.

"He's on the rotation this month," Jeffrey said. "You think Gordon's stupid enough to talk?"

"He's never been arrested before. He doesn't strike me as particularly savvy."

Jeffrey was silent, waiting for her to continue.

"He's probably pretty pissed at me for slapping him," she said, and he could see her working out an approach in her mind. "Why don't you help me set it up? Tell me not to talk to him."

Jeffrey nodded. "It might work."

"Couldn't hurt."

Jeffrey was silent, staring at the table. Finally he tapped his finger on the front page of the paper. A picture of Sibyl Adams took up most of the space above the fold. "I guess you saw this?"

She nodded, not looking at the photo.

Jeffrey turned the paper over. "It doesn't say she was raped, but they hint at it. I told them she was beaten, but she wasn't."

"I know," she mumbled. "I read it."

"Frank and the guys," Jeffrey began, "they haven't found anything solid from the known offender list. There were a couple Frank wanted to look at seriously, but nothing panned out. They both had alibis."

Lena stared at her hands.

Jeffrey said, "You can leave after this. I know you probably need to get some things together for tonight."

Her acquiescence surprised him. "Thank you."

A knock came at the door, then Brad Stephens poked his head in. "I've got your guy out here."

Jeffrey stood, saving, "Bring him in."

Ryan Gordon looked even more puny in the orange jailhouse jumper than he had in his black jeans and shirt. His feet shuffled in the matching orange slippers, and his hair was still wet from the hosing down Jeffrey had ordered. Gordons hands were cuffed behind his back, and Brad handed Jeffrey the key before leaving.

"Where's my lawyer?" Gordon demanded.

"He should be here in about fifteen minutes," Jeffrey answered, pushing the kid down into a chair. He unlocked the handcuffs, but before Gordon could move his arms he had cuffed him back through the rungs of the chair.

"That's too tight," Gordon whined, pushing his chest out to exaggerate his discomfort. He pulled at the chair, but his hands stayed tight behind him.

"Live with it," Jeffrey muttered, then said to Lena, "I'm going to leave you in here with him. Don't let him say anything off-the-record, do you hear me?"

Lena cast her eyes down. "Yes, sir."

"I mean it, Detective." He gave her what he hoped was a stern look, then walked out of the room. Jeffrey took the next door down, entering the observation room. He stood with his arms crossed, watching Gordon and Lena through the one-way glass.

The interview room was relatively small with painted cement blocks for walls. A table was bolted to the center of the floor with three chairs spread around it. Two on one side, one on the other. Jeffrey watched Lena pick up the newspaper. She propped her feet up on the table, leaning the chair back a little as she opened the
Grant County Observer
to an inside page. Jeffrey heard the speaker next to him crackle as she folded the paper along the seam.

Gordon said, "I want some water."

"Don't talk," Lena ordered, her voice so low Jeffrey had to turn up the speaker on the wall to hear her.

"Why? You gonna get in trouble?"

Lena kept her nose in the paper.

"You should get in trouble," Gordon said, leaning over as much as he could in the chair. "I'm gonna tell my lawyer you slapped me."

Lena snorted a laugh. "What do you weigh, one fifty? You're about five six?" She put the paper down, giving him a soft, innocent expression. Her voice was high-pitched and girlish. "I would never hit a suspect in custody, Your Honor. He's so big and strong, I'd be afraid for my life."

Gordon's eyes narrowed to slits. "You think you're pretty funny."

"Yeah," Lena said, returning to the paper. "I really do."

Gordon took a minute or two to refigure his approach. He pointed to the newspaper. "You're that dyke's sister."