Field of Graves (8 page)

“I agree,” Taylor said. “He shot the boyfriend issue down awfully quick. Maybe Shelby confided in her mother and left Daddy out of the loop. Let’s give them a few days. It’s possible Mrs. Kincaid will get in touch with us.”

“So what now?”

“What now? Let’s take the subpoena on over to Vandy and see what we can dig up about Shelby.”

10

Marcus was quiet on the drive to the campus, and Taylor let him stew in his thoughts until they reached the parking lot.

“What’s on your mind, Marcus?” There was no answer. “Helloo. Earth to Marcus.” She poked his knee and he jumped.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Taylor. Lost in my own little world.”

“And what’s happening in your little world?”

“I don’t know. I’m getting a weird vibe.”

“That narrows it down. Care to explain?”

He sighed and looked out the window. “I don’t really know. When we talked to Shelby’s parents, they seemed rather emphatic that she was all work and no play. Seems to me a preacher’s kid away from home for the first time may have gotten herself into a little bit of trouble here or there.”

“You’re probably right. Let’s go see if she’s really been their sweet little girl.”

The campus was lit with the colors of fall, fallen leaves strewn across the quads. It seemed serene, tranquil, untouched by the tragedy. Boys played football, and coeds watched them in admiration; students rode their bikes down the street, calling to one another. It was so bucolic, it almost made her nervous. Picture-postcard perfect—the calm before the storm. Clearly news hadn’t spread about the murder. Taylor didn’t know if she’d rather they panic or be unaffected.

They got out of the car and walked to Kirkland Hall, the college’s administration building. Sitting on a stone bench in front of the edifice was a man in his early forties. He had a thick mustache, matching light blond hair, and a shiny badge pinned to the front of his pristine tan uniform. Taylor groaned aloud. The man smiled and gave them a little wave. He didn’t get up, just sat with his legs spread wide in front of him, a small manila folder sitting quietly next to him.

Taylor tried for politeness. “Chief Graber. How are you this fine morning?”

“Not well, not well at all. I assume you’re here because one of my students is dead, and you’ve come to give your condolences. To apologize that no one from Metro bothered to contact me when you discovered the Parthenon girl was a Vandy student. To ask for any and all cooperation my police force can give to your investigation. That about sum it up?”

Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Graber wasn’t going to make this easy. She softened her tone.

“Chief... Charles. You know that the past twenty-four hours have been a madhouse. We’ve only known that Shelby Kincaid was a Vandy student since—”

“Since you ID’d her body, yesterday. For God’s sake, Taylor, did you think I wasn’t going to find out?” Graber jumped up and started to pace the portico. He had a strange gait. One leg seemed to snap in front of him as he walked. Taylor saw Marcus staring and decided it was the perfect moment to introduce him.

“Marcus Wade, I’d like you to meet Charles Graber, chief of the Vanderbilt Campus Police. And a royal pain in my ass.”

“I guess you two already know each other?” Marcus asked.

“Since ninth grade. She dated my little brother at Father Ryan. Broke his heart, too.”

Graber’s tone wasn’t lost on the young detective, and Taylor went crimson under Marcus’s grin.

“Charles, please. Now isn’t the time. We need to focus on Shelby Kincaid. We have a court order for her records. I figured the school’s administration wasn’t going to be terribly cooperative, so we’ve preempted them.”

Graber picked up the manila folder. “And I figured you’d be thorough enough not to show up empty-handed. Here, I’ll trade you.” He handed her the folder. Taylor nodded sharply at Marcus, who pulled out the legal documents from his inside coat pocket. He handed them to Graber, who didn’t even glance at the paperwork.

“I can save you some time, Taylor. I know my way around this campus better than you do. I’m happy to help.”

Taylor caught the note in his voice, and couldn’t help but feel for the man. His campus police were much more than glorified security guards. They had all the powers of a metro police force, only with a smaller area to govern. But he had no jurisdiction over this particular crime. Taylor knew he didn’t want the glory. He was genuinely sorry that one of the school’s students had been murdered. But it was her case, and she wanted to run it her way. And she owed him nothing but civility. He still held a grudge, about his brother, and other things, and she tired quickly of his relentless barbs.

“Tell you what. If we run into trouble, I’ll give you a call, have you smooth the road. Sound okay?”

“Hell, Taylor, when have you ever had any trouble smoothin’ the road? You’ve got a gun. You can shoot your way clear. You do it enough. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

Taylor bit her lip, forced herself not to respond. He gave her half a smile, turned his back, and walked away. The hitch in his walk was more pronounced from behind.

Marcus looked at Taylor. “Another friend of David Martin?”

She shook her head. “Yeah.”

“Jerk.”

She wanted to smile, but opened the folder in front of her and read quickly, pleased her voice didn’t waver.

“Okay, Marcus, she was in Carmichael Towers East. The roommate’s name is Vicki Chen. Let’s go have a chat with her.”

They set off across the quad, leaves crackling beneath their feet. Shaking off Graber’s comments, Taylor looked around at the young and carefree as they simply existed. They had nothing more serious to worry about than their next test, their next meal, their next party. No dead bodies lined up in rows at the morgue, no bugs crawling through eye sockets, no sense of their own mortality. Maybe they didn’t watch the news, or if they had heard that one of their own was cooling rapidly in a coffin-sized refrigerator, they simply didn’t care.

Taylor sensed the anxiety creeping up her spine. There was nothing she could do to keep any of them safe. She couldn’t stop the rapes, the murders, the abuse. The thematic judgments began rolling through her brain.
I can’t help. I can’t stop them; when one goes down, another meaner and uglier one pops up in its place.
Why am I doing this anymore? Why, why, why do I even want to be a cop anymore
?

She was starting to hyperventilate. Marcus was looking at her strangely. She felt light-headed, but refused to make an ass out of herself in front of her youngest detective. She bent down, looking to anyone who cared as if she were tying her shoe.

“Too bad cowboy boots don’t have laces,” she murmured. She sucked in a couple of breaths, felt her heart slow. Looked up at Marcus, gave him a halfhearted smile. He smiled back quizzically, but didn’t ask if she was okay. She wasn’t, but she’d never admit it to him. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone.

11

Shelby Kincaid, by all accounts, was the good girl her parents insisted she was.

Her roommate, Vicki Chen, met them in the dorm room they’d shared. Chen was pretty, with long, dark hair; small, rectangular glasses; jeans tucked into a pair of brown UGGs, the tops of which were turned down to show the interior fleece. She looked like every other student on the Vanderbilt campus.

And she was devastated by her friend’s loss.

“I just don’t understand how this could happen. She was happy, she was working hard, we had tickets for R.E.M., for God’s sake. You know how quickly that show sold out? She had no reason to wander off.”

Taylor had asked Marcus to talk so he could get more interview experience. With a nod from her, he kept pushing.

“Wander off?”

Chen waved a hand in the air. “She must have, to cross paths with a killer. This is Vanderbilt. It’s Nashville. It’s safe here. That’s why all of our parents want us to go to this school, because it’s so safe.”

Taylor wanted to tell her it wasn’t true—there were no safe schools, safe places. Death could strike anywhere, anyone. But she bit her tongue.

“Tell me more about Shelby’s personality, Vicki. What was she like?” Marcus asked.

“Shy. Quiet. She spent most of her time in the library. She was an engineering student, a damn good one. Straight A’s every semester, carrying a 4.0 GPA. She had to keep the scholarship—her parents can’t afford to send her here.”

“What is tuition now?” Taylor asked.

“We’re at thirty-one thousand, and that’s only tuition, doesn’t include books and meals and housing. It’s gotten very expensive to attend Vandy, and the scholarship kids depend on the help. Shelby had a full academic ride, and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.”

“So she’s a good student,” Marcus said. “What else?”

Chen played with the tips of her hair. “Shelby was popular with her teachers, and she seemed happy most of the time. Content. She was pretty homesick, though. She called home several times a week. No car, so she couldn’t head back there on weekends like some of the local students do.”

“How’d she get around?”

“The kindness of strangers. Oh my God, I didn’t mean that. I meant friends. I’m sorry, she just kept to herself so much, didn’t let people in. Even me. She wasn’t super close to anyone here.”

“What was she doing in the days leading up to her disappearance?”

“Nothing. The girl led a pretty dull life. She stayed on campus for the fall break, but most of us do, it’s party time for four days straight. For Shelby, it was extra time to study. She had exams coming up, and preparing was her main focus for the weekend.”

Marcus took a note. “And when was the last time you saw her?”

“Friday night. I talked her into coming to dinner at Willy’s Diner. You know the place, right? It’s easy to walk to, cheap, pretty popular. I practically dragged her kicking and screaming—she didn’t want to waste the cash. But she’d been working so hard, I knew it would be good for her to get out. We hit Willy’s at 6:45 p.m. Around eight, I noticed Shelby hadn’t come back to the table after a bathroom break. I didn’t think much about it—we’d already paid, were just hanging out at that point. I actually laughed it off, figured she’d gone back to the room.” She bowed her head. “I am such a jerk. If I’d paid more attention, maybe she’d still be alive.”

Marcus soothed her. “You can’t think like that, Vicki. It sounds to me you were doing all you could to look out for your roommate.”

A few tears trickled down her face. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t enough, was it? I got back at eleven thirty or so. Shelby wasn’t here, so I assumed she’d gone back to the library. In the morning, no Shelby, and her bed was untouched. Around lunchtime, I went to the library to check on her, wondering if she’d fallen asleep in the carrels. She wasn’t there. I called Metro, but they told me she’d have to be missing for at least twenty-four hours before they could get involved. I didn’t want to call her parents—I was afraid I’d freak them out. She could have been anywhere, you know? By the time Metro would talk to me about filing a report, you’d already found her.”

“What about a boyfriend?” Taylor asked. “Was she seeing anyone?”

She could see the hesitation on Chen’s face, though she answered quickly. Too quickly.

“Are you kidding? Shelby wouldn’t have any time for a boyfriend. I’ve never seen her in the company of any of the men on campus.”

The answer was so pat, so confident, so final, Taylor didn’t buy it. Especially when Chen started to cry in earnest, almost as if she wanted to distract them.

“You’re sure about this? Is it possible she was seeing someone and simply hadn’t told you?”

Chen shook her head, wiping the tears from her face with a red bandana. “No. No way.”

Taylor gave Marcus the whirlybird finger. Time to wrap it up.

He stood, handed the girl a card. “Thank you for your time, Miss Chen. Please call us immediately if you remember anything relevant.”

Taylor and Marcus left the sobbing Chen and wandered back into the quad. Taylor spotted two boys smoking, walked over to bum a cigarette. Marcus watched her with concern, and she gave him a wink. The only time she smoked anymore was when she was really stressed out, but she tried to give him a carefree attitude as cover. Quitting was awful. She felt bad enough about her occasional slips without disapproving glances from her teammates.

She walked back to him, knew he’d seen her slide the spare behind her ear. Appreciated the lack of comment.

“Anything stand out from Chen’s interview?” she asked.

“She was evasive about the possible boyfriend. We need to pursue that angle if at all possible. I think Shelby was seeing someone and didn’t want people to know. Her dad, especially.”

She rewarded him with a big smile. “Excellent. Exactly right. So who was Shelby seeing when she was supposed to be studying at the library? And why was it so important to keep the relationship secret?”

Before he could comment, her phone rang.

“Jackson.”

“It’s Fitz.”

“Thanks for that. I do have caller ID on this thing. What’s up?”

“We’re opening the park back up. Crime Scene got exactly squat, no trace, no worthwhile prints, no ID or clothes. She may well have flown there and landed on those steps.”

Taylor laughed. “That’s about the best logic I’ve heard today. What’s Sam up to?”

“She wrapped things up about an hour ago. She said she’s sending over the autopsy report. Everything’s square with Loughley, too.”

“Hmm. Did you call him?”

“Nope, she did it all by her pretty little self. Why?”

“Nothing, just curious. We’re not getting too much over here either, other than the distinct impression Shelby Kincaid has a secret lover. We’re on our way. You need anything while I’m out?”

“If you get by Jack’s Bar-B-Que, you could grab me some pulled pork, buns, and a Bud,” he said hopefully.

“Mmm, sounds good. Skipping the beer, though. Sorry.” She clicked off her phone and snapped it back onto her waistband.

“Okay, Marcus, let’s get some lunch and head back to the office.”

Taylor took a last drag on her cigarette and flicked it away into the bushes. Saw a figure over Marcus’s shoulder. Chief Graber was standing by Carmichael Towers. He wasn’t smiling. Taylor ignored him, turned her back, and they started walking back to their car.