Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 04 - Politics is Murder (7 page)

Blast To The Past

ROAMING THE HALLS OF A university lay outside of Sean’s comfort zone. He didn’t like school the first time around and had done the bare minimum to make it through local college, while loathing every moment behind a desk with his nose buried in a book. He admired Sara for having graced a university with her presence and, from the sound of it, excelling under the pressure.

His mind skipped from his own discomfort to Justin. While the kid seemed to blend in academically, he didn’t appear to relate to the average student. Sean remembered what had struck him from their conversation with him. “When we were talking about Halie, Justin said that he didn’t have anything against her, but he used the past tense
had
anything against her.”

Sara stopped walking, the clicking of her heels ceasing and bringing silence to the hall. “I noticed the same thing, but do you think he’s involved with her disappearance?”

“I’m really not sure. It’s too soon yet.”

Sara nodded and resumed walking. “Hopefully more things come to light soon, because it almost seems to me like Miss Responsible needed to break away for a bit.”

“You think she left on her own?”

“Well, it is a possibility.”

“Here it is, darling.” Sean stopped in front of the door with the lettering
Professor Harland
on the glass.

Sara knocked.

“Come in,” the professor bellowed.

“Here goes.” She reached for the handle and appeared as if she was going to be ill. It was the first sign she gave of feeling uneasiness.

The white-haired, sixty-something professor sat behind a standard wooden desk. For the funding the school received it should have been made of fine mahogany. His head angled at the sight of them, his pen poised over paper. “What can I do for you? I’m assuming parents of one of my failing students?” He gestured toward the chair across from him.

There was only one.

“You take it, darling,” Sean said. After she sat, he responded. “We’re not parents, but we’re here about Halie Davenport.”

“Halie?” His thick eyebrows narrowed downward as he looked at each of them. “You’re not her parents though?”

“We’re here on behalf of her parents.”

“Ah, this has something to do with politics then? Waste of your breath with me.” The professor resumed scribbling on the paper in front of him, giving them a good view of his balding crown.

“Please, Professor. We’re not here with any agenda except to ask a few questions.”

Sara’s soft tone must have worked because Harland looked up.

“Questions about what exactly?”

“How is she doing in class these days?”

Sean listened as Sara took over the reins of the conversation, her questions getting to the heart of what they needed to find out, without disclosing they feared the girl was missing, or worse, dead somewhere.

Harland dropped his pen to his desk and clasped his hands. He let out a sigh. “How sad when one’s own parents can’t come by to ask these questions. I understand the mayor lives seven hours away, but even a phone call would suffice for the purpose of such an inquiry.”

“If you would kindly answer our questions. We went into your last class, one to which Halie is enrolled, but she wasn’t there. Is it normal for her skip class?”

“Please elaborate on who you two are.”

“Excuse us for that. I’m Sara McKinley and this is Sean, my husband.” Sara rose from her chair to shake the professor’s hand.

“All right, now I have your names, but it still doesn’t really make a difference. Why did Mr. Davenport send you?”

Sean unclipped his cell and extended it to the man. “Please, if it would put your mind at ease to clear this conversation with him, by all means, I can put you through.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them, hesitancy lacing his retinas. Eventually he sat back, cleared his throat. “That’s fine. Let’s not bother him. She’s a terrific student, one of my best, and she would never miss a class unless it was for a very good reason.”

“When did you last see her? Has she been in class this week?”

“Come to think of it, no. She must be sick. There’s a lot going around.”

“So, she’s missed class for illness before?”

“No. Yes. I’m not exactly sure. Did you check in on her dorm room, speak with her roommate?”

“We’re here talking to you right now about her standing in your class. We can catch up with her later,” Sean interjected a subtle twist of the truth. “Besides if she found out we were sent by her father, she wouldn’t be too happy.”

“Yes, I’m sure you are right. So now you’ve come and asked your question, if that will be all.” He picked up the pen again.

“Actually, we do have more questions for you.”

To Sean, his eyes read
oh goody
, but it didn’t stop him from raising another inquiry. “What are her friends like?”

“Her friends are average students. Their minds are nothing like hers.”

“Can we have their names?”

Harland rolled his eyes but then proceeded with writing on a sheet of paper. He extended it to Sean.

There were three names on the list.

“She wasn’t the most social butterfly was she?”

“Like I alluded to before, if you were listening, she’s a brilliant student.”

Sean nodded. “No last names?”

“Also, not necessary. All of these students were in my last class, except for Janie, her roommate. Not to mention, if her parents sent you, you should know who her friends are already. If that will be all,” Harland stated dryly.

Sara crossed her legs, drawing the professor’s eyes to her. “Actually, one more question, Professor.”

“Why not.”

“We understand you also own a publishing company and are running a contest, which you extend to students. Was Halie entering this?”

“I’m not sure what this has to do with a concerned parent inquiring after his daughter.”

“It’s just a question.” Sara smiled.

Harland didn’t return it. “I believe she was going to.”

“What do you mean by that? Did something stop her from entering?”

There was a knock and Harland pulled his eyes from contact with Sara, past her, to the door. It opened and a female student was there with a laptop bag strapped over her shoulder.

“Kristen, what is it?”

Sean picked up on the brash nature in the professor’s voice, and the unsettled eyes of the student. When her eyes met Sean’s, she smiled.

“I just have a question about something in today’s class, if it isn’t any trouble,” she said to the professor.

“Well, as you can see, I have company at this—”

Sara stood and took Sean’s hand. “We’re finished. Thank you for your time, Professor.”

To The Top

WHO TEACHERS VIEWED AS THEIR students’ friends could differ greatly from the truth, but they had three names from Professor Harland. One name wasn’t a surprise, Halie’s roommate, Janie, while one certainly was, and the third they still had to meet.

Sara and Sean were outside in the courtyard. The sun was warm today, and the fulfillment of spring, strong. The melody of chirping birds confirmed it wasn’t just a hopeful dream.

“He wrote down Justin as being her friend? Why didn’t he tell us that? He acted as if he didn’t really know her,” Sara said.

“He did seem fascinated by her father.”

“We’re going to have to talk more to that kid. But how are we supposed to do that now? He’s under the impression we’re literary agents. Guess we could always play that up.”

She shook her head. “Remember we didn’t think he really bought that line. Let’s start with the third person on the list. Her name is Monica.”

“All good and dandy, but how do you propose we do that? We don’t have access to the registry and we don’t have a last name.”

“The dean.” Speaking her plan out loud tossed her stomach.

“We need to keep this as low profile as possible.”

“Yes, I know, Sean, but we also have a girl to save.”

“You believe she’s alive.”

“I have to, darling.”

He caressed her arm. “Another reason I love you.”

“If we give in to thinking she’s already lost, what would we be in a hurry to save?”

“All right, I’ll let you lead the way, but why don’t we just go back and talk to the lovely professor?”

“You saw the guy. He shut down. You know it. I know it. But I’ve got this.” Her words communicated a resolute confidence, but her insides fluttered like the flapping wings of a hummingbird.

“We appreciate you seeing us, Dean Fleming.” Sara slipped into a green chair across from his desk. Unlike the professor’s office, the dean’s spoke of money, with ornate touches of dark wood, a deep desk, and built-in bookcases.

“Please, Arthur is fine.”

She wanted to look at Sean, but her instinct told her that, in this case, instead of strengthening her resolve, it would weaken it. She didn’t know why the thought of facing this man made her crumble inside. Her university days weren’t a bad time in her life.

“Arthur, Mr. Davenport sent us to inquire on his daughter. Now, we’ve already spoken to her literary professor, Mr. Harland, and he provided us with a few names of her friends, but he only gave us first names.”

“Why not go back and ask him for the surnames?”

“Well, the professor is a busy man, not to suggest you aren’t, however, Mr. Davenport also wanted us to talk to you about his daughter’s record as well. So, we’re killing two birds with one stone.” She caught Sean’s smile from her peripheral.

“Understandable, seeing as he sent someone all this way,” Fleming said.

Sara noticed how the older man didn’t pay any attention to Sean.

“So, Harland gave us three names and we’ve already spoken with two of the students, but he also gave us the name Monica. He said she is also in the class with Halie.”

“Ah, yes, Monica Fuller.”

“You know who she is right off?”

“I know all my students, Mrs. McKinley.”

“Sara, please.”

He smiled. “Sara.”

“Do you know where we could find her?”

“Of course. She lives in the dorms.” He went to the keyboard on his desk and lifted his eyeglasses up from the chain that was dangling around his neck. “I don’t have their residences memorized.”

Sara smiled at him, thankful that he didn’t as that extent of knowledge would cross the border of what was appropriate.

“Here we go.” Arthur proceeded to tap his hands on the surface of his desk, apparently searching for something. “Do you have a pen?”

“If you tell me, I’ll remember.”

“Beautiful and smart.”

Sara glanced over at Sean and he smiled at her. She was happy to see that his jealous nature was transforming to pride instead.

Arthur rhymed off the details of where they could find Monica.

“Thank you very much for your help.” Sara stood.

“Any time, but is that all you needed?”

“Yes, it—”

Sean’s cell phone rang and he excused himself to go into the hallway to answer it. Sara followed behind.

The conversation was mostly one-sided and she sensed something had gone terribly wrong.

Sean hung up and leveled eyes with her. “The case has just taken on a life of its own.”

“Sean?”

“That was Reanne. The ransom call came in just a few minutes ago. Halie Davenport was kidnapped. She also said the caller was the same one who answered Halie’s cell phone Monday night.”