Failure is Fatal (30 page)

“Me? I didn't do a thing!”

“You took action that probably resulted in alerting a murderer that the authorities would be coming for him. You should have let me handle all of this. I could have checked Farone's leave schedule before I talked with him, and I certainly would have talked with Campus Security to find out where that knife went. Now we've got a suspect at large. I want you to stay out of this case and let me handle everything from now on. Thanks very much for your help so far, but butt out!” He hung up.

I sank into a chair at the kitchen table and pulled up my pant leg. Just as I thought. The color was fine, but it was swollen, and it ached. I reached into the freezer and grabbed a handful of ice. Half of it went into a towel for my ankle, the other half into a glass for my scotch. I was about to hobble to the couch when the phone rang.

“Ha! Sorry you yelled at me, I'll bet. Apologies accepted. I'll help where I can, you know that.” I assumed Der was on the line.

“Laura, it's Guy.”

“Guy?”

“Yeah, Guy. Remember me, the one you love, or, at least, say you do. The one who set you up with my contact at Fort Drum. She just called me and told me what happened. Why do I have to hear what's going on in your life from someone else? Why can't you call me and tell me? What's happening to us, Laura? This weekend was a disaster, and you didn't even wake me when you left this morning. I haven't heard from you all day. Then when I try to call, your line is busy so I know you have the time to talk with someone. And that someone isn't me, I guess. It's Der. Somehow it's always Der and this crazy case.”

I could tell from the tone of his voice that Guy was fed up with me and my shenanigans. And I feared where he was heading with all this.

“Guy.” I interrupted his monologue before it could spin out of control. “Guy, listen, I'm really sorry about this weekend, but it wasn't entirely my fault, you know. I know I was distracted with the case when I got there, but once I settled in, everything would have been alright if it wasn't for your kids fighting when they were dropped off at the house.”

“So now the problem is my kids! Try not blaming everything on other people. You're so worked up over this murder that everyone takes a back seat to what you want.”

Oh, boy, mentioning his kids was not the way to go here. I tried again.

“Well, the kids were a real problem; you've got to admit that.” That's not what I wanted to say, but I just couldn't seem to pull back from what I saw as the truth. “And you were a lot less than romantic.”

“Why can't you just admit to your role in the failure of the weekend?” He paused, but before I could gather my thoughts together, he said, his voice suddenly quiet gentle but firm, “Laura, this isn't working. Our priorities aren't the same. We need time to rethink this one. We need some time apart.”

I took a deep breath. I really didn't need this now, not when Der was mad at me and the murderer was still wandering around, and most of the research I collected this semester was a mess.

“Fine,” I said. I was so tired, so disgusted. I simply wanted to crawl into my bed, cover my head with the blankets, and suck my thumb until the world righted itself once more. I let out my breath and said in a voice that belied my hurt, “Maybe you're right. Maybe this long-distance thing is too much. Maybe we aren't on the same page here.”

“How about we take a break and be back in touch around Christmas, after school ends for holiday break and your semester is over? By then things should be different. Marie's murder will be solved or the case will have dead-ended. So I'll call you just before Christmas, okay?”

“Fine.” I hung up the phone.

I sipped the last of my scotch, let Sam out for her pee and limped up the stairs to bed. I felt betrayed, depressed, exhausted and generally peeved at a world that didn't seem to understand me. In short, I was feeling sorry for myself and vowed to continue to do so for a while.

Chapter 25

I pulled my car into an empty parking space outside Campus Security, hoping that my arrival at seven Monday morning would beat both Der and Captain Rodgers out of bed. No sign of Der's police cruiser, but I didn't know what Rodgers drove. What the hell. I felt as if one more person insulted by my presence couldn't matter. I tossed my empty coffee cup into the trash outside the door and entered the building. Luck was with me. No sign or sound of Rodgers, and my old student, Officer Rawlins, stood behind the desk. I was back on one crutch, knowing that I needed to take weight off my ankle before the swelling would subside.

“Ma'am, I mean, Dr. Murphy,” Rawlins said, cheerful as always. “I sure hope you're not here because you're mad about that ticket I gave you several weeks back. I was just doing my job. Your car was parked in a student-designated parking area, you know.”

“I know, I know. No, don't worry. I'm not at all angry about that. I just need a favor, if you wouldn't mind. Could you check storage and see if the knife collected after this Disciplinary Board hearing was signed out?” I showed him a slip of paper with the case number and date of the hearing.

“Well, I don't know now. This is kind of unusual. I think I better get Captain Rodgers to pass on this one.” He turned to pick up the phone.

“No, no, don't do that. He probably needs his sleep, and I'd be aggravating… I mean, you'd just be aggravating him at this hour of the morning. And it's not as if I want to see the stuff or take it or anything. I just want to know if that knife's there. That's all. You can just go and take a little peek, and I'll stay here by the desk. I don't even want to see where you have it stored. Just look for me will you?”

He scratched his head and screwed up his mouth, looking dubious about my request.

“You know, you're right. Captain Rodgers was in here awful late yesterday. He was still here when I left at eleven last night. Got an important call, he said, and needed to wait for someone. Say, now that you mention it, that's real peculiar.”

“What is?” My eyes followed Rawlins as he turned toward the window in the back of the office and peered out.

“His car is still here. He parks around back, you know, in his own parking spot. I never knew him to sleep in his office. I think I'd better go check on him.”

“Could you check the storage area first, for the knife, you know?” But Rawlins was already on his way to Rodgers' door. I followed him down the hall. He knocked once. No answer. And again. Rawlins turned the knob and opened the door. He stuck his head in, and I leaned in from behind him. No one was in the office. Rawlins shook his head and turned toward me.

“Maybe he walked home or got a ride with someone?” I said. “Meantime, until he shows up, let's take a look at that storage area.”

“I'll go. It's in the basement. It'll just take a minute for me to look.” Rawlins continued down the hall. At the end, he opened a door to some steps, flipped a light switch, and disappeared down the stairs. I paused only a moment before I followed, holding the crutch in one hand and grabbing the handrail with the other.

“Dr. Murphy, I think you'd better…”

“Yeah, I know I said I didn't need to look, but I really need to see that knife to be sure it's the one.”

“No, I mean I think you'd better call an ambulance and your friend Detective Pasquis. Captain Rodgers is here, all tied up, and he's not moving. He doesn't look so good.”

I stared into the face of Rodgers lying on his back on the basement floor, trussed up like the proverbial Thanksgiving turkey. He wasn't moving, but a small groan escaped from his fat lips, and he opened one piggy little eye and stared back at me.

“You.” His tone of voice was accusing.

“Hi.” I waved my fingers at him and extracted my cell phone from my pocket.

Der pulled into the Campus Security parking lot only minutes after I called him.

“How'd you get here so fast?” I said.

“I was already on my way. I talked to Rodgers last night and told him I'd be here to look at the inventory list of the weapons and the weapons themselves first thing this morning. Looks like you beat me here.” I could tell he was not pleased at my presence, so I made myself scarce while he and the paramedics, who arrived soon after, tended to Rodgers.

*

“Imagine,” Der said to me, as the ambulance sped away carrying Rodgers, “the first person you see after being hit on the head, tied up and threatened is you, Laura. What a delight that must have been for Rodgers.”

“Why? It's not as if I did that to him. It's not my fault. He just doesn't like me. That's all.”

“Now we know that we're close to David Farone. He can't have gone too far in this weather.” Der looked out the window at the snow being blown against the building. In the short time since I parked at Campus Security, my car accumulated several inches of wet, white stuff on its roof.

“Farone called Rodgers, posing as another campus' security chief and said he needed to talk with Rodgers. Rodgers waited for him, let him in through the back door, then Farone forced him into the basement. Rodgers claims that Farone threatened his life unless he took him to the weapons collection.”

“Yeah, and Rodgers said the knife was there and that David left it there. I don't get it.”

“Obviously, you were wrong about that knife. It's not the one that killed Marie.”

“Then why did David come here to see it?”

“Go home, Laura. The weather is getting worse, and the president closed the college for the day. Go home and take a long, hot bath. Relax and let me handle this.”

“Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Nothing.”

“Don't tell me ‘nothing' if you've got an idea. I want to know what you're thinking.”

“I'm off this case, remember. You said so. Whatever I'm thinking is not your concern.”

“Give me a break, will you? There's a nut running around in all of this snow, and I don't know what he's up to. I just know that your little chat with him resulted in his going AWOL. I don't need a menopausal female poured into this mix.”

“A what? A what?” I was unable to think or speak clearly. I headed across the snowy lot to my car, muttering to myself.

“Dr. Murphy, Dr. Murphy.” I heard Officer Rawlins call my name. I turned and got a mouth full of snow for my trouble.

“What? For god's sake, now what?”

“This parking violation. It's overdue. Want to pay it now before you leave?” Rawlins said.

“No, I do not. Not now and not ever. Take me to court!” I slammed my car door and turned the key to start the engine.

Cops! They were all a pain in the ass. Then there was Guy. He wasn't a cop, and he was a pain in the ass too. Men! Men were a real pain in the ass.

I beat my fists against the steering wheel, then leaned back in the seat. I needed to calm down, take a deep breath, and think this one through. Where would David Farone go after his visit here? I thought I knew. I took out my cell. No juice. Oh well, might as well mend a few fences now. I opened the car door and headed back into the building.

“Hi!” I made my tone intentionally cheery. “I think I really should pay that ticket. I wouldn't want to cause any trouble for this department's budget.”

Rawlins looked at me warily. “Okay,” he said. “That's twent- five for the ticket and another fifty in late fees.”

“Fifty bucks for late fees! Why that's…” I said, then, rethought my reply and continued. “That's fair, I guess. Take a check? Oh, oh, my checkbook must have dropped out of my purse when I was down in the basement storage area with you and Captain Rodgers. I'll just pop down there and grab it. No need for you to help. You just write out a receipt for my payment, and I'll be right back.” I was already proceeding down the hall toward the stairs. For a little, chubby, menopausal woman with one bad leg, I could really move when there was a good reason.

I checked the disciplinary hearing number on my slip of paper and the date, assuming that the weapons were in a file box designated with that information. I had to do this quickly before Rawlins grew suspicious of what I was really doing in the basement. Damn! There was an empty space where the file box should have been.

“It's over here by the stairs, Dr. Murphy. It was moved when Detective Pasquis asked to see its contents.”

I turned in surprise to look up the stairs at Rawlins.

“I just give up, I really do, Dr. Murphy. I figure I might as well help you or you'll just find some way to get what you want, and the more difficult it is for you, the more trouble you'll make for everyone else.”

I wondered where he had gotten those ideas, but I scurried over to the lone box at the foot of the stairs and opened it before he could change his mind about colluding with me. The knife lay on top of the other weapons. I carefully removed it and held it up toward the light coming down the stairwell. Uh, huh. I dropped it back into the box, replaced the lid and slowly climbed the stairs.

“Thanks,” I said to Rawlins on my way out.

“What about your fine?” I heard him say as I opened the outside door. I just kept walking.