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Authors: Miranda James

File M for Murder (14 page)

BOOK: File M for Murder
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Diesel came to sit by my chair and stare up at me, doing his best to look like a cat that hadn’t eaten in several days. I fed him three green beans, then shook my head when he meowed for more. He resumed staring, and I went back to my meal, trying to resist that mute appeal.

We ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Laura put her fork down. She regarded her brother and me, a hint of defiance in her eyes. “I know you both probably think I’m crazy, but I don’t want to talk about it tonight.” She paused. “I promise I’ll talk about it tomorrow, but for tonight I just want to be left alone. Please?”

Sean frowned and appeared about to speak, but I forestalled him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I know you’re worn out. It’s been a horrible day for you, and you need some time to rest. But we have to talk. There are some serious issues to discuss, and we can’t duck them for long.”

“Yes, sir.” Laura smiled briefly before she resumed eating.

I looked across the table at my grown-up daughter, but suddenly all I could see was a little girl, vulnerable and confused. I wanted to pick her up and hold her, tell her that I would make everything better. But then I saw the adult Laura again and knew instinctively that she wouldn’t welcome my assurances, at least not tonight.

We finished the meal without further conversation. Laura had a faraway look as she picked at her food, and I could only imagine her thoughts. When Sean and I were done, Sean stood and took our plates to the sink. Laura set her fork down and gazed at me.

“I’m going up to bed. I’m really tired.” She came around the table to me and held out her hand. “May I have the thumb drive back for now, Dad?”

I hesitated before I stood to pull it out of my pocket. I clasped it in my hand and regarded my daughter. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and make her think I didn’t trust her, but I was concerned about the contents of the device and what Laura planned to do with it.

She knew me only too well. “I promise you I’m not going to do anything to the contents. I won’t delete or change anything. We’ll look at it together tomorrow and then decide what to do with it.” She gazed into my eyes without wavering.

I had to trust my daughter, I decided, and her reasons for having taken the drive from Lawton’s apartment. We would catch hell from Kanesha Berry, I knew, but we would face that when the time came.

I dropped the drive into Laura’s hand. Her fingers closed around it, and she gave me a sweet smile and a swift peck on the cheek. “Good night.” With that she turned and left the kitchen.

Diesel chirped, and I looked down at him. “Go ahead,” I told him, and he trotted off after Laura.

Sean had cleared the table already and was putting the dishes into the dishwasher. I thanked him.

He looked troubled. “I have this feeling that something nasty is going to happen because Laura took that drive, Dad. For the life of me I can’t figure out why she’d do such a thing. Surely she knows better.”

“I think we simply have to trust her, son. I’m not happy about the situation either, but she must have a compelling reason to have done it.”

“I guess so.” Sean shook his head. “The whole thing’s one unpleasant mess, that’s for sure. I wonder what the Theater Department is going to do without their star playwright?”

“They might try to find a replacement,” I said. Then I had an uneasy thought. “I wonder if anyone has informed Ralph Johnston about this.”

“Would the sheriff’s department know to?”

“They might,” I said as I thought about it. “Surely in her questioning of Laura, Kanesha would have asked her what she knew about Lawton’s next of kin. Johnston was his employer, so to speak.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it then.” Sean squeezed my shoulder. “You’ve got enough to think about without dealing with that.”

I definitely didn’t feel like I had the energy tonight to talk to Ralph Johnston. He would probably go into hysterics, and I didn’t have the patience to cope with that. Kanesha would have notified the college. She was very thorough.

“I think I’ll head upstairs then.”

“I’m going to relax for a while on the back porch,” Sean said. That meant he was going out to smoke a cigar—his way of relaxing.

I bade him good night, then trudged upstairs to my room. After changing into my pajamas, I read for a while,
keeping an eye out for Diesel. By the time I turned out the light he hadn’t come, but I left the door ajar in case he returned during the night.

Restless thoughts kept me awake for a good hour or more but eventually I drifted off to sleep. At some point I was dimly aware that Diesel was on the bed with me, and then I drifted off again. I awoke the next morning feeling logy, but I couldn’t loll in bed. There was much to do today.

Laura hadn’t appeared for breakfast by the time I was ready to leave for work. I was eager to talk to her, but I didn’t want to disturb her. She needed rest, and my questions could wait a while longer. Perhaps by lunchtime she would be ready to talk.

Diesel and I arrived at the archive a few minutes early, and we had a quiet morning. Melba didn’t appear for her usual visit, but I remembered that she was taking the day off. Just as well, because I didn’t feel up to answering questions about the events of yesterday.

At nine my cell phone rang. Sean’s number came up on the screen. I barely had time to say, “Hello,” before he launched into frantic speech. “Laura’s gone, Dad, and she must have left the house before you and I had breakfast. I just tried her cell phone, but she didn’t answer.”

My heart thudded in my chest. Where was my daughter?

And, more important, was she safe?

SIXTEEN

I suddenly felt cold all over. I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths. “Maybe she’s here on campus in her office.” That thought comforted me. “She’s probably so focused on whatever she’s doing that she’s ignoring the cell phone.”

“Maybe.” Sean didn’t sound convinced.

“I’m going over there right now, and I’ll call you as soon as I know something.” I paused for a breath. “You keep calling her cell.”

“Will do.”

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and reached for Diesel’s harness and leash. “Come on, boy. We’ve got to check on Laura.”

Diesel, perhaps attuned to my urgent tone, leapt down from his perch in the window and stood patiently while I buckled on his harness in record time. Once I attached the leash, he darted around the desk, and I had to hurry to keep up with him.

I paused only long enough to lock the office door. Then we scooted down the stairs and out the back door of the building. I jogged as quickly as I could, and Diesel kept pace with me. The walk to the building that housed the Theater Department normally took under ten minutes. This morning I probably made it in four.

I tried to keep my thoughts focused on the positive, but doubt kept niggling at me. Laura had to be all right. She had to.

We pounded up the walk to the fine arts building. Like many on our campus it dated from the mid- to late nineteenth century, its once-red brick weathered to a rosy pink, offset by white windows and doors. I jerked one of the double doors open. I was thankful no one was in my way, because I probably would have barreled over anyone who impeded my progress.

Too impatient for the elevator, I ran to the stairs, and Diesel scampered up ahead of me. My heart thudded in my chest, and the sweat dripped down my face, but I pressed on. I prayed I wouldn’t collapse before I found my daughter safe and sound.

Laura’s office lay at the end of the hall, away from the stairs. I ran down the empty hall. Diesel was still slightly ahead of me. How he knew where we were going, I had no clue, but he was straining at the leash, trying to pull free.

I let him go, and he beat me to Laura’s door by a full five seconds.

When I reached the door, I had to pause to catch my breath. I couldn’t speak because I was gulping in air. Diesel meowed loudly and scratched at the door, which was slightly ajar. His weight forced it open, and my heart almost failed me when I caught my first glimpse of the interior. Books and papers lay scattered about.

I stepped into the doorway and, still struggling to
breathe freely, croaked out my daughter’s name. A phone began to ring, and I recognized the ringtone as Laura’s. I took another step inside. To my right, perhaps two feet away, was a wall covered with overloaded bookshelves. To my left was a desk, and my heart almost stopped when I saw a woman kneeling over a body on the floor between the desk and another wall of bookshelves behind it.

Diesel disappeared around the edge of the desk, but I heard him chirping and meowing in distress. The sight of my daughter’s body on the floor terrified me so that I couldn’t speak. Then I could see Diesel, licking Laura’s face. The woman started and sat back on her heels.

“What are you doing?” I finally found my voice, and my legs worked again. I strode around the side of the desk and grasped the strange woman’s shoulder. She turned her head to look up at me, her expression mirroring the fear of my own.

“I’m trying to help her,” she said. She struggled to loosen my hand from her shoulder. “Who the hell are you?”

“Her father,” I said, pushing her none too gently out of the way. I dropped to my knees on the worn carpet beside Laura. Her eyes were closed, but her breathing was regular. She looked like she was sleeping. I grasped her hands in mine. They were cold. I started rubbing them, trying to warm them.

“Laura, honey, can you hear me?” While I spoke to her, Diesel kept licking her face. I didn’t try to stop him, because I thought any kind of sensory stimulation was good.

Laura’s phone started ringing again, and I could sense the woman hovering behind me. “We need to call 911.”

“I’m doing it now.” I glanced back, and the woman had the office phone in her hand and was punching in numbers.

For the moment I ignored Laura’s still-ringing phone,
though I knew Sean was probably even more worried by now. I’d call him as soon as I could.

Laura moaned, a low sound that tore at my heart. She blinked several times, then her eyes opened and tried to focus on me. Diesel stopped licking her face but kept talking to her, as I called it.

“My head,” Laura whispered. Her face contorted in a grimace of pain. “Hurts. What happened?”

“I don’t know, honey,” I said. “We’ve called 911, and they’re on the way. You lie still.”

Laura frowned. “Where am I?”

“In your office.” I stroked her hands, still trying to warm them up. Diesel moved to stand beside me, his eyes intent on Laura’s face.

She blinked, then a tremulous smile flashed briefly. “Sweet kitty,” she whispered.

“They’re on the way,” the woman announced behind me.

I turned to nod at her, and with a small shock I realized I knew her. Magda Johnston, Ralph’s wife. She looked far different today from the woman I’d seen at the party a week or so ago. For one thing, she appeared to be stone-cold sober, and she was dressed more conservatively, in a gray skirt, purple blouse, and black jacket. Nothing like the garish, blowsy woman from the party.

Laura whispered, “Water. Please. Bottle in desk.”

I gazed down at her and nodded. “Don’t move,” I told her again. I shifted position so I could open the desk drawers. I found the water on the first try. I turned back to Laura and frowned. I didn’t think she should move her head until the paramedics arrived and examined her. So how was I going to give her water without choking her?

Laura moved, and I knew she was going to try to sit up. “No,” I said. “Stay still. I’m going to dribble some water in
your mouth from the side, okay?” That should work, as long as I could hold my hand steady.

“Okay,” she said. She opened her mouth as I twisted the cap off the bottle. I knelt over her and held the bottle to the side of her mouth. I tilted it until a tiny trickle of water flowed. Laura swallowed, and I stopped the flow.

We went through this procedure four more times, until Laura said, “That’s good.”

I capped the bottle and sat back on my heels, regarding my daughter with concern. Where were the EMTs? Surely they would arrive soon.

“They’re coming down the hall.” Magda Johnston spoke from the doorway. She appeared to be waving at them.

“Thank goodness,” I said. I glanced at the desk. The EMTs would need more room to work, so I stood and pushed the desk toward the opposite wall. Magda saw what I was doing and stepped forward to help. Between us we managed to get the desk as far out of the way as possible. I was gently moving Diesel away from Laura as the first member of the team entered the office.

I pulled Diesel to the corner and watched as the other emergency personnel came in. They went to work quickly and efficiently, and one of them asked Laura several questions, such as “What day is it? Who is the president?” Her responses were evidently satisfactory.

Diesel, made nervous by all the strangers in the small office, crawled underneath the desk and watched everything from there. I called Sean to apprise him of the situation but kept the conversation brief. I asked him to come in his car to pick me and Diesel up. He would need to take me to the hospital and then take Diesel home. The emergency room was no place for a feline, even one as well mannered as mine.

BOOK: File M for Murder
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