A Wrongful Drift (Seagrove 8) (4 page)

"I've been in Mexico for the last four weeks. Just got home last night."

Mr. Bradshaw was right, Sadie thought. Sam wasn't a murderer. At least, she didn't murder Sylvia.

"What were you doing in Mexico?" Lucy asked.

"The oil spill. A few of us finished the semester early so we could join the cleanup crew. We were saving sea life and birds. At least, that's what we thought, but when we got down there, we found dogs and cats that were affected, and livestock. And when that was done there was a herd of horses that were starving and we had to do something about that before we could come back. It was grueling, but I think we did a lot of good. I wasn’t around to murder Syl. But if I'd met up with the owner of the tanker that spilled the crude, I would have gladly murdered him."

"The very rich are certainly becoming infamous," Sadie said. "So many seemed to be greedy and so few generous. I'm glad you were able to help in Mexico."

"And it gave me an alibi for the murder of my archnemesis," Sam said. "So I win twice."

"I guess so," Sadie said. "Lucky you. A word of caution, you live very close to a house full of distraught women who don't believe Sylvia deserved to die. I'd keep my sentiments about her to myself if I were you."

"I won't lie about how I feel," Sam said, straightening her back.

"I'm not asking you to lie," Sadie said. "Just to have some compassion for the people who feel differently about her than you do. I'd hate for you to get hurt in the backlash. And I don’t think they deserve to have their feelings belittled."

"I take your point. I'll be circumspect," Sam said. "You can bring Mr. Bradshaw over to visit me any time. He's got spunk."

"Yes, he does. I'm glad you like him." They said their goodbyes and got back in the car.

"Breadcrumbs," Lucy said as they headed back down the hill. "We seem to have run out."

"I know," Sadie said, glancing from the road to Lucy's face. "We’ve reached a dead end."

"What do we do now?"

"My plan is to see what I can get out of Zack, and then return to the sorority if I can't get any useful information out of him. What about you? Do you have any ideas?"

"Not a one," Lucy said. "This case seems to be chock full of people who hated the dead woman, but who couldn't have committed the murder."

"Samantha's alibi seems airtight, and easily checked, but some of the others might not be as tight as they seem. The problem is I don't know exactly when Sylvia died. That makes it difficult to pin down anyone."

T
hat evening
Sadie was intent on pinning down Zack. He had to know more than he was saying. So rather than wait for him to come by her apartment, she put a leash on Mr. Bradshaw and walked him down to the station house.

They found Zack in his office buried in stacks of paper. Mr. B jumped onto one of the two chairs in front of Zack's desk and curled up. Sadie sat on the edge of the other one and waited until Zack looked up.

"You are like a vulture waiting to pounce," Zack said and closed the file he was reading.

"What have you discovered?"

“Absolutely nothing,” Sadie said. “We’ve been following the crumb trail to nowhere. I'm vulture-like because I'm determined to find out what you know. So go ahead and spit it out, has there been any progress?”

“It’s not really my case, Sadie, and I’m not convinced it wasn’t Justin Ives.”

He caught her glance. “Don’t look at me like that. You saw those photos.”

"Mr. Bradshaw likes him," Sadie said. The dog twitched one ear when he heard his name.

"Even Mr. Bradshaw makes mistakes," Zack said. "He's not clairvoyant."

"Mr. Bradshaw never makes mistakes about people. And for all we know he is clairvoyant. I don't think you are giving him enough credit."

"You may be right," Zack said, "but even if he is, I can't go to Steve Ryan and tell him he's got the wrong guy based on what my girlfriend’s dog says. It just won't fly, Sadie."

"Fiancé," Sadie said.

"Huh?" His face went blank.

"I'm not your girlfriend, I'm your fiancé," Sadie said. Zack grinned.

"Why, yes you are. And based on that I can talk to Steve." His eyes sparkled.

"Stop teasing," Sadie said, but her mood had lightened. "I know you can't reference Mr. B. But you could put a bug in his ear. Couldn't you?"

"I can put a bug in his ear, and the next time I see him, I will." He smiled again and shook his head. "Only for you."

Sadie returned his smile, feeling warm inside. "What are you working on?"

"Someone keeps breaking into the art studio and stealing paint. Then they use that to paint graffiti the wall around the mayor's home. They are sneaky little vandals and I haven't been able to catch them at it. There are worse things going on, but I've had to take this on myself, it being the mayor's wall and all."

"Too bad, I know you'd much prefer to be working on a nice juicy murder. Or maybe a gang war."

"There aren't any gangs in Seagrove," Zack said. "Although there was an altercation at the high school, and the groups broke roughly on race lines."

"Who'd you assign that to?" Sadie asked.

"I had to tell the principal we didn't investigate food fights," he said. "The poor woman was very disappointed. I think she was hoping we'd scare the kids into good behavior."

"I can't blame her," Sadie said. "I'd be hoping for that, too, if I were her."

Zack settled himself back in his chair. "What are you up to next?" he asked. "Going to consult Mr. Bradshaw on the whereabouts of our murderer?"

"Nope. If he knows, he's not telling." Sadie shrugged. "What I'm going to do is go back to the sorority and see what's surfaced in the last couple of days."

"I thought you were talking about going to Spain?" Zack said. "What happened with that?"

"Oh, I'm still going, but not until this case is closed."

"And what if that takes years?" he asked.

"I'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she said. "But I've got a feeling we'll find the bad guy soon now. I'm betting before the end of the week."

"Did Mr. Bradshaw tell you this?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

"No. I have a hunch." She stood up and Mr. Bradshaw stood up, shook, and jumped off the chair.

"Are you coming over for dinner after work tonight?" she asked.

"Does it matter if it's late?" he asked.

"Not a bit, I'm cooking a take and bake pizza. Give me a call half an hour before you leave and it will be hot when you get there." She went to step out the door.

"Wait," he said and stood up. He came around the desk and wrapped his arms around her before dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

"Be safe, okay?"

"Always," she said. "Mr. Bradshaw insists on it."

Rather than go to the shop Sadie headed straight to the sorority house. She felt bad for not asking Betty or Lucy, but sometimes it was easier to get people to open up when you didn't bring a posse. Also, she was a sorority sister, which engendered trust, while Betty and Lucy were outsiders. At least, that was Sadie's thinking.

The sorority mother let Sadie in and led her back down to the social room where about a dozen girls were hanging out, listening to music and snacking. The house mother slipped away back down the hall and Sadie brought Mr. Bradshaw into the conversation area. He hopped onto a dark-haired girl's lap and all the girls in the room came over to see him.

Before many minutes the word was out and there were at least twenty girls in the room, all gathered around the spot where Mr. Bradshaw was holding court. He allowed himself to be patted and passed around and Sadie vowed to herself she would give him extra treats tonight because he was behaving so well. He didn't growl once.

"How are you all doing?" Sadie asked. "Are you recovering from the shock of losing another sister?"

She looked carefully into their faces, not only to give the impression she was concerned, but because she was. These were her sorority sisters, the latest in a long line of connected women that strove to make the world a better place.

There were varying degrees of emotional distress in the faces around her. A couple of faces crumpled, but those girls were folded into hugs by their housemates and no one broke down.

"I've been thinking," the young dark haired girl who currently was holding Mr. B spoke up. "There were a couple of girls who really made a fuss when they didn't make rush. And one was really obnoxious. She stood on the sidewalk and called us names for a couple of days until the cops came and told her she had to stop. I don't know her name, though."

"Mandy?" A tall blonde asked.

"No, not Mandy, Randy." The group was buzzing again.

"Yes, that's right, Randy."

"No, remember, we called her Randy Sandy. Her name was Sandy."

"I don't think so. It was Andy, like in Toy Story, only a girl."

"Can we agree it ended with Andy?" Sadie asked. The girls nodded.

"Do you all remember what she looked like?" Sadie asked, but if she thought there would be agreement on that, she was wrong. The only agreement they came to was she was Caucasian and her hair wasn't pitch black or white blonde.

"Sadie, I don't feel safe anymore." There was nodding all round.

"What should we do?" one of the girls asked.

"The same things you should always do. Don't go strange places by yourself. You keep an eye out for each other. Don't meet people you don't know well by yourself unless you are in a very public place. Be honest and compassionate and don't wield power over others. After that, you just have to roll with the punches. There are no guarantees in life, but you can improve your odds by being smart." Sadie stopped and caught her breath and Mr. Bradshaw chose that moment to give one of the girls a big kiss right on the mouth.

There was squealing and laughing, and when they had calmed down the mood had changed and they were happy young women again. But as she went to leave, the girl who'd held Mr. B first caught Sadie’s arm.

"You'll find who killed Syl, won't you?" she asked.

"Of course, she will." The voice was familiar but Sadie couldn't place the name. "She's Seagrove's Sherlock, only a woman."

"I'll do my best," Sadie said. "And I won't stop looking until the correct person is behind bars."

"Wait. Do they have someone in jail?" said the tall blonde.

"It's Professor Ives," the redhead chimed in. "My dad saw them come take him away."

"I don't believe it, not Professor Ives." The mood in the room changed again and Sadie could feel the anxiety level rise again.

"I don't believe Professor Ives killed anyone," Sadie said. "And I'm going to do whatever I can to get him released."

"Should we go over and protest in front of the police station?"

"Yes, let's stand up for Professor Ives!"

"He's not in the Seagrove holding cells," Sadie said hastily. Zack would not be happy if a bunch of co-eds started picketing the station house.

"They've got him over in the town where Sylvia was found. Don't get me into trouble by storming the Seagrove police department."

"We won't."

"We promise."

Sadie left to a chorus of voices assuring her they wouldn't become a public nuisance, but she didn't believe it for a moment. She knew only too well what a group of sorority sisters could do when they put their efforts behind a cause. She almost felt sorry for Steve Ryan.

The offices were closed when she drove past the college so she headed toward home. On the way she stopped at the pizzeria and picked up a couple of take-and-bake pizzas for dinner. The high school student behind the counter put two dog biscuits on the boxes for Mr. B, who was sitting quietly next to Sadie. She gave one to him to hold and he carried it proudly out to the sidewalk before snapping it down.

Over pizza that night she broached the subject of Justin with Zack once again. He had a mouthful of pizza that he had to swallow before he could answer.

“Sadie, babe,” he said, “you know I have no control over what Steve Ryan decides to do with Justin. You are going to have to be patient.”

“But you could tell him you don’t think Justin killed Sylvia,” Sadie said. “He might listen to you.”

“I can’t do that,” he said quietly. “I wish I could, for you, but I can’t.”

“Because you don’t believe he’s innocent,” Sadie said sadly.

“Because I have no idea if he’s innocent or not,” Zack said.

“I’d love to believe that you and Mr. Bradshaw are right, Sadie, but there’s no evidence pointing to anyone else. And I can’t go looking for it because it’s not my case. I have my own work to do. I’m sorry.”

Sadie nodded. He was right, he couldn’t interfere without some kind of proof. She could, though. She should go check on Justin and see if he needed anything. She felt guilty that she hadn’t been already, but she’d been trying to find the real killer.

“It’s okay,” she said and smiled at Zack. “Of course, you have to do your job. I’m going to see Justin tomorrow. I’ll tell Officer Ryan he’s got the wrong guy. Not that it’ll make a difference, but, at least, I’ll feel like I tried.”

“I don’t know if they’ll let you see him, but they might. And it doesn’t hurt to try.” Zack leaned across the table and wiped something off her face with his thumb and then wiped his thumb on a napkin.

“Pizza sauce?” Sadie asked.

“And a tiny piece of olive. This is good pizza, where did you get it? The Pizzeria?” He put the remains of a piece in his mouth and sighed.

“The only other place to get take and bake is the grocery, and you know that doesn’t compare. I always get my take and bake from the Pizzeria. In fact, I got a second one to put in the freezer for emergencies.”

She licked the sauce from her fingers. “Yum.”

“You have pizza emergencies?” Zack cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Don’t you? I thought everyone had pizza emergencies,” Sadie said.

“I just call for delivery when I need a pizza, and I wouldn’t call it an emergency. Sometimes I’m just hungry for pizza,” he said. He palmed a piece of crust and dropped it on the floor.

“I saw that,” she said. “You know Mr. B isn’t allowed to eat human food. It’s not good for him.”

She wagged her finger at him. “He’ll get fat.”

“I’ve never seen a less fat dog,” he said. “One tiny piece of crust won’t hurt him once in a while. It’s not like he gets it every day.”

“Humph,” she snorted.

“Says you.” But she didn’t reach under the table to take the crust from Mr. B. You had to know when to make a big deal of something, she thought, and this wasn’t it.

“So what’s your plan for tomorrow?” he asked. “Sleuthing, or planning for your trip to Europe?”

“Sleuthing. I’m on a crumb trail.” She wiped her face with a napkin and tossed it into the compost bin.

“First I’m going to see Justin, and tell Steve Ryan he’s wrong. Then I’m going to the college to see if I can find Sandy, Randy or Mandy. Maybe it’s just plain Andy, I don’t know.”

“Andy?” Zack looked puzzled.

“Apparently a pledge who didn’t make it in and who was mad about the hazing. Not that I blame her, but I draw the line at murder. Anyway, her name was something like Randy or Sandy. The girls couldn’t remember for sure. She made a big stink when she didn’t make the cut. She protested out on the sidewalk until the cops made her stop.”

“Sounds promising,” Zack said. “If you can find her. There could be an awful lot of girls whose names end with Andy. It’s a big school.”

“We’ll see.” Sadie shrugged. “What are you up to tomorrow?”

“More of the same, mostly,” he said. “I’m going out to the art co-op in the morning. I’d ask you to come along, but it sounds like you are busy.”

“I’d love to come another time,” she said. “But for now, I have to make Justin my priority.”

“You are a good friend, Sadie Barnett,” he said, reaching out and holding her hand. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“I feel more like a parent than a friend. Or some kind of guardian of justice. Professor Ives is like a child who needs to be protected from himself. Just when I thought he was pulling himself together, this happens. I realize he’s not much older than his students, but you’d think he’d have more sense.”

“It’s hard to keep your wits about you when faced with a pretty girl,” Zack said. “I should know.”

“Flatterer,” she said, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

“Not at all, I just speak the truth. I’ve broken all kinds of rules because I like having you near me.” He squeezed her hand and let go. “But now I’d better go home. Otherwise, I’ll find myself sleeping on your couch.”

“You won’t stay for a movie?” she asked, but she knew it was late for him. He got to the station house at an ungodly hour in the mornings.