Murder in the Arboretum (Cold Creek Book 2) Read online

  “At the Chief’s request, Dr. Wellburn again tried to find a match between any of Johnson’s tools and the bruises,” he explained while he rolled his eyes. “There was no plausible match. There was no blood or skin on any of the tool surfaces. Johnson isn’t a match for the skin under Justin’s nails. That was checked already.”

  “Why all the emphasis on the bruises, if he was shot? Any leads on the gun?”

  “Dr. Wellburn was able to extract the bullet, but it’s not in the best of shape. It’s being run through ballistics and the beating-shooting combination is also being run to see if there are similar murders. So far, no hits. In the meantime, Pfeiffe is trying to come up with some kind of physical evidence that would implicate Johnson. With no tissue match, he’s decided that someone else beat Blake up, then Johnson shot him. Only they didn’t find a gun in his truck, his apartment, or his work area. He doesn’t have a gun registered. There is no indication in his record that he ever had a gun, never mind a permit.”

  I sensed Brett’s frustration from his tone of voice. “Pfeiffe doesn’t have any hard evidence to hold Johnson. Johnson needs an attorney with him when he is arraigned tomorrow or they’ll postpone and appoint a public defender.”

  I told Brett about Mr. Cohn’s meeting with Clive, but didn’t know the outcome.

  Brett nodded and asked about the information box idea. I explained that we thought calling the boxes “Comments and Climate” was broader and would allow students to comment on their feelings. It also meant that anyone who saw someone put a note in the box wouldn’t necessarily think that person was telling tales.

  We worked on the wording of the announcement and I emailed it to Dr. Cramer for approval. We continued to talk about the case for a few minutes. I shared what I learned from Jack as well as Nick’s comments. I pulled out my drawings of connections, but there still were not many lines to Justin and all positives connected to Johnson. Well, other than his record. Instead of a circle, I placed a square on Johnson’s drawing and marked it as his arrest record.

  Surprisingly, Dr. Cramer sent back his approval in no time. Brett explained he told the Chief about the idea and he didn’t seem to care one way or the other. I went ahead and sent the copy to the Daily CCC Gazette. That meant we had to have those boxes ready by noon when the announcement came out.

  I tried to be offhanded when I showed Brett the note. He shook his head. “Your curiosity seems to be well known,” he teased. “I know you better than to tell you to stay out of it, but be careful.”

  We agreed that the note probably wouldn’t yield much in terms of prints, but he put it in a bag, just in case.

  Brett and I watched some television and talked some about summer plans. Another month or so and I would have three weeks off before summer school. Mostly we just tossed ideas around. That he would have Madison for two weeks about the same time had to be factored in. We were both tired so after letting Charlie out one last time, we called it a night.

  Chapter 10

  The next day, Brett took off again for North Shore, and I went into work. The day started off with sunshine but took a steady downhill slope. I had no sooner entered the building, grabbed my coffee, and walked toward my office when Jim barreled at me.

  “Sheridan, President Cramer has already called twice this week. He wants to know what you and Kim are doing to keep the lid on this!” Jim’s blood pressure was soaring, his face red and splotchy. He never dealt well with crisis and less well with being under pressure. He was overweight and the stress from his job as Department Head would surely be his death.

  “Good morning, Jim. Please let President Cramer know that Kim, Mitch and I have already let students know we are available if they need any counseling or support. We will do what we can to dispel rumors and stick to facts. We also will point out to students that they can take some responsibility for their own safety. We’ll suggest that not just now, but in general, they travel in pairs, keep to well-populated areas, stay away from places with limited security or poor lighting. Does that help?” I asked, trying to generate calm.

  His face was still too red, but he seemed to breathe a little more evenly as he answered, “Yes, thank you. Please keep me posted. Maybe Ali or Terra could put together a flyer about general safety?”

  “That would be a good idea, but perhaps that is something the Public Relations people could do. Maybe something laminated with University Security telephone numbers that prompts students to report anything that might seem suspicious?” I was trying not to fidget, but I still had to get to my office and get my materials for class, and it was almost 8 o’clock already.

  “Good, we’ll put it back on Cramer. I like that,” he huffed and walked off. After a few feet, he turned and shouted, “Keep me posted, Sheridan!”

  “We’re also putting boxes in each building for students, faculty or staff to drop us a note if they have concerns, comments, or suggestions. President Cramer knows that though,” I added. He nodded, but I could tell he’d already tuned me out. I probably could have suggested I was going to dance naked and he would have nodded just the same.

  I managed to get through my class and find Kim and Mitch. I explained the plan to Mitch and told them that both Cramer and Pfeiffe already approved the plan. I also mentioned Jim’s upset and tirade earlier.

  The last email I got from the Daily CCC Gazette had assured me that the announcement would be appear in today’s issue. That meant we had to get boxes set up in each of the buildings ASAP, and definitely before lunchtime.

  The first step was to find small boxes and get them covered, with some means of easily inserting a folded piece of paper. I went to the main office to see what Ali and Terra could come up with. Kim went to find some newspaper to use as a cover, and Mitch went to get coffee for all three of us.

  Terra came up with a bunch of envelope boxes, with tops that we could tape down. We didn’t want students to be able to easily get in and sift through whatever ended up in the boxes. We prepared ten boxes. Ten would allow us to change out the boxes once or twice. Of course that assumed that people would put something in the boxes.

  As usual, Mitch was the skeptical one. He predicted that we would either get nothing or stuff that was ridiculous, like someone making a joke.

  “So what are we going to do with the information they leave us? Not to mention all the comments we don’t want to read,” Mitch asked when he came back with the coffees.

  “I don’t know, but at least we’ll be doing something,” I answered. “On the one hand, some students might say they were concerned about security or safety. Some might complain about the media and being hounded. That would sure be my complaint.”

  “Sheridan, do you really want to know if drug dealers are doing business in the Arboretum? Or anywhere else in Cold Creek for that matter?” he countered.

  “If I’m honest with myself, anywhere there are potential buyers, there are probably dealers. If students acknowledge it, maybe administration will see a need for education about substance abuse. Maybe they’ll even consider some tighter security. For sure, it won’t exactly help Clive Johnson unless someone tells us the name of someone else who could have killed Justin Blake.” Neither one of us believed that would happen, but maybe something would come up that might help.

  Kim came back about then with newspapers and some information. “I just ran into Jack and he said the police found some stuff in the creek. They found Justin’s wallet for one. Officer Hirsch came to see Jack to find out why Justin had Jack’s business card in his wallet.”

  Huh! Jack’s comments indicated he hadn’t had contact with Justin since his divorce. Justin kept his card anyway? Mitch shook his head with a puzzled expression on his face. Certainly, Jack didn’t fit my image of a drug lord, dealer, or user, even with his long hair.

  I summarized the conversation about what we might or might not get with the boxes and Kim agreed. It could be pretty sticky if the information we gathered indicated that drugs were a big problem on campus
. It would be better if any drug use was restricted to the few who didn’t finish. Our idea might morph into some version of opening Pandora’s box.

  We continued to chat and almost scratched the idea, but decided it was better not to be an ostrich with its head in the sand. We got the boxes covered, and then it was Mitch who figured out how to put a slit in the top for the notes. It would easily work for a piece of paper, but not for trash. Then we figured out where we wanted to put the boxes and split up.

  One box went to the main entrance of each of the academic buildings. We decided to put one in the Library, the Administration Building, the Rec Center, and the Student Union as well. That put the count at eight and meant we needed to find more boxes to rotate them out. More than we initially planned, but it was easier to put them in each of the main buildings than to decide which ones would work best.

  In each building we placed them in main areas near the bulletin boards and secured them to the wall. It wouldn’t stop someone from taking them, but it would require enough time and effort the person might be noticed. Some time Friday we’d trade them out with new ones, and then do the same next week on Tuesday and Thursday. With Clive’s arraignment today, it wasn’t likely the whole thing would be over in less than a week. Well, unless Clive or someone else confessed that is.

  As I got back to the Humanities Building, the Daily CCC Gazette was being delivered. I grabbed one and sure enough, with the heading of ‘Student Thoughts on Murder’ was the invitation for students, staff or faculty to share their thoughts or information, how the murder affected how they felt, and such, anonymously. Part of me shared Mitch’s skepticism. On the other hand, I figured it couldn’t hurt and we might just learn something. As I thought of possible repercussions on Clive if it did reveal drug activity, I hoped it wouldn’t hurt.

  I got myself a sandwich and Brett called. He was still in North Shore but would meet me at the house in time to go to dinner. I no sooner hung up and Priscilla showed up at my door. Priscilla’s thin body looked tensed enough to break. Her shoulders were raised, her arms stretched out by her sides, her fists clenched. The Gazette was in her left hand.

  “Now this doesn’t have your name on it, but I’m betting this was your idea. Don’t you know anything?” she hissed, pointing to the announcement in the Gazette.

  Taking a deep breath and counting to ten so as not to blow up at her, I answered, “It’s just an opportunity for students to share their thoughts without identifying themselves.”

  “First of all, what gave you the right? Second, why didn’t you use social networking? Don’t you realize the Internet is the means of communication for our students. You are several years out of date, Sheridan.” She huffed, hands still clenched by her side and face getting red. I wondered about her blood pressure.

  “You know, Priscilla, you might have a point about social networking. I’ll have Terra send an email explaining about the comment boxes,” I replied, still squelching my temper. I was sorely tempted to point out that social networking in any form was hardly anonymous.

  “And for a psychologist, you sure don’t seem to know that asking people to think about a traumatic event can be harmful. I just bet you did this so your friend Kim can take over the Student Counseling Center,” she shrilled. She didn’t wait for an answer but turned and stomped off. I was glad to watch her go. I crafted an email about the comment boxes and sent it to Terra to send out to faculty, staff, and students. I thought to myself to expect a “comment” about social networking.

  By then it was time to teach my research class. It went well and I managed to remember to make an announcement about the boxes. I asked them to pass on the information.

  Back in my office, Kim came by. She got a call from Cohn. Clive had been arraigned and held without bail. Although she was upset by the bail part, Cohn basically stated the obvious. Even if bail had been set, it would have been too high for Clive to make it. Because Clive didn’t have any family or ties other than his job at the College, Cohn couldn’t convince the judge to set bail.

  Cohn mentioned some people were there who seemed to be on Clive’s side, including his boss. He told Kim that he talked to several of them a bit after the arraignment. He confirmed his meeting with us for Friday.

  After Kim and I talked a little more about that meeting, I shifted the conversation to her dinner with Garrett. She told me a little more about him before she left. I tidied up my office and the day over, I headed home.

  Chapter 11

  I hadn’t heard from Brett since lunch, but I assumed he would meet me at the house. He wasn’t there when I got home. I let Charlie out and it wasn’t long before Brett joined us in the back yard. He took me in his arms and rubbed my back. I seriously considered an alternative to dinner as back up for Kim and her Internet date. When Brett blew air into my ear and mumbled something to the same effect, it was very hard to look him in the eyes and remind him of our dinner obligation. He responded with a sigh and a “dessert then,” and we went into the house.

  I freshened up a bit and Brett did likewise. I wore my favorite sweater set and nice slacks so I would be able to avoid a heavy jacket. Even though it was April, the temperature could drop once the sun went down. In no time, we were driving toward the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  As we drove, I commented on the signs of spring. Most times, the creek tended to be mud or dry, but with the recent snow melt and spring rains, there was water in the creek bed. I asked if he knew about the stuff found in the creek that ran through the Arboretum and behind the Administration Building.

  Brett said that all he knew was that some student yelled to a security guard that something was in the water. It ended up being Justin’s wallet. He wasn’t sure how they could have missed the wallet the first time Hirsch looked in the creek. Finding the wallet prompted a call to the Chief and security, and police walked the edge of the creek and pulled out any piece of paper or object they found. They hoped to find the gun but no such luck.

  It would take a while to sift through it all and probably none of it was related to the murder. He tossed out the idea that the wallet may have been dumped after the initial search but there’s no way to determine that. He added that Cold Creek needed to look into cleaning up the creek once in a while. Personally, I wasn’t too sure about the critters that might live there, so I always avoided the creek area.

  About an hour later, we arrived at the restaurant and pub at the lake. Although it was one structure set into the mountain, it offered two choices for dining. The limited number of restaurants in Cold Creek got boring so we often ventured out of town to eat. Sometimes we would come up here. The pub side was one of our favorite restaurants. The restaurant side was the upscale version, and the price was upscale as well.

  We’d eaten in the restaurant side once and the food was great. That said, this favor for Kim wasn’t exactly painful. The hostess smiled and welcomed us as she seated us with a view of the lake. The lake was a great place to just hang out, with lots of hiking, fishing, and boating in the area. The view from our table was spectacular.

  As I looked at the lake, I wondered aloud, “Brett, does the creek at Cold Creek come from here? Is it a tributary?”

  “I doubt it. Manmade lakes don’t usually have a large number of tributaries. Besides, I think the lake was put in after the town of Cold Creek was established. I have to think that there was always a creek there and that’s how the town was named. It’s kind of surprising though that it hasn’t dried up. We can look it up when we get home.” He smiled and winked as he added, “right after dessert.”

  I blushed big time and fumbled with the menu. Brett turned my menu right side up and laughed.

  “So just what do we do now, Sher?” Brett asked. He leaned back with a grin on his face.

  I smiled and answered, “We have a nice dinner is all, enjoy the view of the lake, and wait to see if we need to run interference. Shall we have some wine?”

  “Oh, so this is just a date, huh?” he asked with a c
huckle. “I’ll just wait for that dessert.”

  I laughed as the waiter came to the table. He cleared his throat as he looked back and forth between Brett and me. I immediately felt he knew what we’d been talking about and tried to hide behind my long brown hair but that didn’t work with the layering waves in the front.

  We ordered and he delivered our wine. As I told Brett about the rest of my day, he tapped my arm and quietly directed, “Your three o’clock, opposite side of the room. Kim and her date were just seated.”

  I glanced around the whole restaurant as if looking for our waiter. “Okay, we’ll see what happens,” I said with a shrug. From my vantage point, Garrett looked to be a little taller than Kim and in good physical shape. He was blonde and still sported hair or a very good hair piece. At least from a distance, he was a nice-looking man, easy on the eyes.

  I finished telling Brett about my day and asked about his day. He hadn’t said much about his case outside of North Shore, not even the actual town. It could even be where we were now.

  He shrugged and I knew better than to push. Dinner was served and the salmon was cooked just right. The vegetables and filet had been prepared with butter and garlic that wasn’t too heavy but added flavor. As we ate, Brett changed the direction of the conversation away from his case.

  “So what do you know about this guy Garrett?” he asked.

  I shared with Brett what Kim had told me. Garret was some kind of insurance investment analyst but also did software design. Recently transferred from somewhere in the Midwest as a result of a promotion, he was a financial advisor to a variety of corporate clients and designed investment software aimed at increasing efficiency and profit. He was divorced, but described his divorce as friendly.

  “He told Kim he was interested in companionship, but not necessarily anything serious.” As I said this last part, I could tell from Brett’s raised eyebrows he wasn’t too sure about Garrett’s definition of companionship. I wondered about that as well. Kim just blew me off when I asked about it. Her rationale was that he didn’t want to lead her on.