Failure is Fatal (10 page)

“This may be more than a prank. We think it might be connected to a criminal matter,” Der said.

“Criminal? Oh, no. I thought I was simply blowing the whistle on a fraternity.”

“And it may turn out that's all it is,” I said.

“I've decided the sorority isn't for me. And if the sorority and fraternity were involved in anything criminal, it just confirms my decision not to join and to let you know what they were attempting. My parents were right all along.” She sighed and turned to me. “I'm really sorry for messing up your results, Dr. Murphy.”

“Don't worry about it.” The research was secondary to identifying Marie's killer. We had more leads than before we talked with Abby, but it still felt like a race against time if the recent stories predicted the kind of violence found in the earlier one.

Chapter 9

Der's sedan plowed its way back to my house with difficulty. The snow continued to come down and at an increasingly rapid rate. It was difficult to see through the windshield,
and the wipers began to ice over. He turned on the defroster, upped the heat, and increased the fan speed.

“Pretty early in the year for a snow fall of this amount,” he said.

“Uhm,” was all I could offer, lost in my thoughts.

“You're awfully quiet, Murphy. I thought talking with Abby would energize you. It's another piece of the puzzle.” He maneuvered us out of a skid.

“What'll you do about the frat connection?” I said.

“Follow up on it. Abby will help us identify the guy who was in the testing session with her, and we can go from there to his fraternity and its officers.”

“That only gives us the identities of the people who wrote the notes and maybe the identity of the person who created the idea, but will it yield the killer? Maybe these descriptions have nothing to do with the murder.”

“I don't know how you can think that, Murphy. There would have to be too many coincidences for all of this not to be connected.”

“Someone dislikes me and kills people? I don't get it.”

Guy and Sam met us at the door as we tramped in through the snow. I was happy to be home again, off the roads and in front of a warm fire. Der began to fill Guy in on the conversation with Abby.

“Murphy's having a difficult time believing that someone can hate her enough to destroy her research and kill someone,” Der said.

“What's the old saying? ‘If it walks like a duck, blah, blah, it is a duck',” Guy said.

“The whole thing is just creepy,” I said. “And I'm dead tired”

“Well, I've got to go before the roads get so bad even that old tank out there won't make it through.” Der grabbed his coat off the hook by the door. “I'm going to visit the fraternity house Abby mentioned tomorrow and see what I can find out.”

“Don't make your call before noon or no one will be up,” I said.

“Oh, but that's the best time to interview people, when they have been rudely awakened and their defenses are down.” He ducked his head out into the storm.

“Keep me posted,” I yelled out the door, catching a full blast of snow in the mouth.

Guy pulled me back into the kitchen. “We'd better get some sleep,” he said

“I have to convince Sam that she should go out into this storm and do her business before we can go to bed.” Sam was still curled up on the floor beside the couch.

“C'mon, girl,” I said. She thumped her tail once as if to say, thanks but I'm fine here.

“Okay, but you're going to be one sorry dog about five in the morning.”

“I'll get up early and let her out, Murphy.” Guy reached for me. “How about a nice body massage? You're all tense from tonight.”

I nodded my head in agreement, and we proceeded up the stairs to the bedroom. I lit a few candles and got the massage oil from the bathroom.

“A little music?” Guy placed a CD in the machine.

We were well into the massage, and Guy's warm hands were kneading the muscle knots in my shoulders and back into wonderful submission. My body began to relax, and I let my mind wander. Guy's breath moved against my neck, and he planted a kiss on my ear. The kiss turned into a nibble, and the vibrations from the sensation began to work their way down my spine into my feet. I wiggled my toes in anticipation and then sat bolt upright on the bed.

“Muscle cramp?”

“A frat boy, that's what!” I reached for the bedside phone and dialed Der's number. I could tell when he picked up that I awakened him.

“The guy who let me in the building, that night when the lab window was open, you know, Der, the night I went into town to check out my hunch.” I was hoping for some sound from Der that would confirm he was awake and listening.

“Yeah, Murphy. Go ahead.”

“It was a frat boy!”

“What do you mean?”

“It was a frat boy who opened the door for me, Der. I just now remembered the guy was wearing one of those kerchiefs on his head, you know, the ones the frats make all their pledges wear. They're so common on campus that it didn't register at the time, but he certainly was a pledge from one of the fraternities.”

“You called me at this hour of the night to tell me that?”

“But don't you see? It connects to Abby's story about the involvement of that fraternity. I'm sure that the guy who let me in the building must have been the same person who broke into my lab.”

“I see what you mean, Murph. All the more reason to visit the fraternity tomorrow.”

“Can I come along?”

“Absolutely not! Thanks for the information. Now go back to sleep.”

I placed the receiver back in the cradle and rolled over toward Guy.

“Now where were we?” I crooned in his ear. His reply was a resounding snore.

*

Saturday morning dawned cold and clear, the snow having stopped during the night, but the weather channel predicted more by evening. Sam seemed to have discovered the joys of snow. She was outside, running through the deep powder and barking at the top of her lungs, as if to invite Guy and me to join her.

“I'd better leave this afternoon,” Guy said, as we watched her antics through the kitchen window, drinking our first cups of coffee at the kitchen table. “That'll give them time to clear the roads of this snowfall, and I can miss the next one.”

“It seems as if you just got here,” I said, “and we've barely had time to get reacquainted.”

“I know, babe. And whose fault is that? I thought I had a pretty good massage technique. Never had complaints before. Usually women don't sit bolt upright in bed during my ministrations and make phone calls. And to another man, no less!” His eyes twinkled with good humor.

“Just how many women have you given massages?”

“Tell you what. I'll whip up some pancakes,” Guy said.

“I don't want pancakes. I want another massage. The one you gave me last night has worn off.”

“Okay.” No argument there.

We called Sam in, dried her off and left her in front of the warm woodstove while we played massage parlor upstairs. By the time we were finished, pancakes sounded pretty good, and Guy, wearing my robe, was in the kitchen heating the griddle. A sharp bark from Sam warned us that someone was coming. Der entered the kitchen, greeted by the smells of cooking bacon and wet dog.

“I didn't even hear your car. The snow must have muffled the noise.” I poured him a cup of coffee and offered breakfast.

“Breakfast? I had it hours ago. Do you know what time it is?” Der eyed Guy's outfit.

Catching his scrutiny, Guy shot him a look that discouraged any comment.

“Go get dressed. I'll finish the pancakes,” I said.

“The reason you didn't hear the car is that your drive isn't cleared. I had to park on the road. I guess things around here have been too busy this morning for anyone to do chores.”

“Cooking is a chore.”

“Only for someone who cooks as badly as you do. Give me that. You don't press down on a pancake.” He took the turner out of my hand, removed his coat and suit jacket and began cooking the pancakes.

Guy descended the stairs with his overnight bag in his hand. “I just heard a weather forecast. The next storm is due in a few hours, so I've got to get going as soon as we eat.”

“You'll be going nowhere, boyo, if that drive isn't cleared. You can't get your car out. I'd help you, but…” Der said.

“But he has his good clothes on. I'll help you after we eat,” I said.

“I thought the next snowfall was predicted for tomorrow.” Der seated himself at the table, and I placed a plate of pancakes and bacon in front of him. He didn't refuse it.

“It was, but they just updated the forecast, and it's coming in earlier,” Guy said.

I waited for Der to fill me in on his visit to the fraternity, but he said nothing, simply chewed his food.

“If you want to survive the day, you'd better tell her how your visit to the fraternity went. As for me, I'm leaving soon, so I'll be safely out of range,” Guy said.

“Tell you what, even though I am in my Sunday best, I'll lend a hand with the drive.”

“I've only got two snow shovels,” I said.

“We'll take turns,” Guy said. He seemed as eager to hear what Der had to say as I was.

We all bundled up and trooped out the door into the snow, Sam trailing behind, using her nose as a snowplow as she searched out sticks buried beneath the snow's surface.

Der leaned against the garage doors, accommodating Sam's need for attention and play by throwing the sticks into the yard for her to retrieve and bring back. Guy and I plied our backs to the heavy snow that almost buried Guy's car. Occasional glances skyward confirmed that we were about to be dumped on yet again.

“The visit this morning to the frat house was disappointing.”

“I warned you no one would be up and sober enough to talk to you.” I threw a shovel of snow to one side.

“Hey, watch it. I'm right beside you.” Guy was shaking off most of the snow that I had thrown on him.

“No, that's not it. I managed to rouse several guys, but they informed me that the president and most of the members were doing a weekend in New York City and wouldn't be back until late Sunday night,” Der said.

“No doubt a cultural adventure taking in the opera, dinner at the Four Seasons and several plays.” I leaned on my shovel for a breather.

“I decided not to ask them any questions, so I merely left my card and told them I'd be in touch. I saw one of them drop the card on the coffee table, which was covered with overflowing ashtrays and empty beer bottles. With the addition of what is sure to accumulate this evening, I doubt that the card will be unearthed before graduation in the spring.” Der grabbed the shovel from me and put his weight into the project.

I opened Guy's car door and extracted his brush and window scraper and began to clean off the car. Within a few minutes the drive was cleared, and we heard the snow plow as it rounded the corner down the road.

“Oh, great, now we need to clear the entrance again. I thought it already made one pass through here,” I said. The huge plow ran by throwing its load of slush, rocks and snow onto the newly cleared drive. Farther down the road we could see the plow swerve around Der's car leaving it stranded behind a barrier of snow.

“I guess I'll have to dig it out. You get the driveway, I'll get my car. When they're both clear, I'll pull in beside you.” Der headed down the road to tackle the pile of dirty snow surrounding the police cruiser.

With no shovel to help, I offered to make some hot chocolate.

“Try not to burn the milk,” said Der as I headed for the house.

“What milk? It's instant. Who would trust me with heating milk?”

Having successfully boiled the water for the hot chocolate, I stuck my head out the door to see if Guy and Der were finished with the drive. They were working on the walkway from the garage to the house. Soon we were all seated before the woodstove. Hot chocolate in our hands, we enjoyed the heat of the fire while coats, gloves and hats dripped melted snow in the kitchen, and Sam exuded her usual wet doggy aroma.

“I hate to end this idyllic scene, but I have to hit the road,” Guy said.

The clouds were thickening, and the wind began to pick up. I was worried about his trip back, although I knew most of it would be on interstate, which would be clear by now.

“I'm spending next weekend with the kids. Why don't you come up the following weekend?”

I hesitated, and Guy seemed to know what I was thinking.

“If the weather is okay,” he said. He knew how I hated to drive on snow-covered roads.

“If you got a better car, you might not find winter driving such a terror. On the other hand, it's probably just as well you find winter driving such a terror. It's safer for the rest of us that you stay off the roads. I've seen how you drive when the pavement is dry. A little confidence on your part with the appropriate vehicle might convince me to give up my license,” Der said.