Failure is Fatal (29 page)

“A lunch meeting with the president and his vice presidents in the conference room, fourth floor.”

*

I quietly opened the door of the conference room and spied Kathryn across the table on the far side of the room.

“Psssst.”

All heads turned in my direction.

“Is there something we can do for you, Dr. Murphy?” said President Evans.

I don't think he was interested in doing a thing for me unless it was tossing me out the window or recommending my immediate dismissal from the faculty.

“I really need to see Kathryn,” I said. I cleared my throat. “If it's not too much trouble.”

“And this can't wait?”

“Uh, no. It's important.”

Kathryn, her face red with embarrassment, assured him she would be right back.

“Laura, you're going to get me in a lot of trouble,” she said and closed the door softly behind her.

“I know, I know, but this is really important.”

I pulled Kathryn away from the door to the conference room and into the restroom around the corner. Stooping to look under the stalls to make certain no one was in either one of them, I explained to Kathryn that I needed to find out what happened to the weapons in the years' old disciplinary case.

“Gosh, I don't have any idea. Maybe they were returned to the students when they left campus. I don't know why we would keep them.”

“Do you know who would know?”

“Why don't you ask Captain Rodgers? He might know.”

Oh, great! Just the person I didn't want to ask.

Kathryn saw the look on my face and surmised I wanted no dealings with Rodgers.

“Maybe I can find out for you,” she said.

“This afternoon, do you think?”

“Well, I'm not really sure about that, but…”

“Great. I'll call you around four thirty today and see what you've found out. Bye. Got to get on the road.”

*

At exactly four twenty-nine, I pulled into Guy's drive and hopped out of the SUV. Guy greeted me with a kiss that I returned with a quick hug, heading for his bathroom.

“I hope it's empty,” I said. “Three hours on the road and half an hour at the border and I'm desperate.” I accomplished what I needed to and appeared in the doorway.

“Oh, okay. I guess I won't take offense. Nature calls. I can understand that.” He held out his arms to me, and I rushed past him, plopping myself on the couch and punching a number into my cell. I held up my finger.

“A minute. Just a minute. Kathryn? Hi. It's me. What did you find out from Rodgers? Uh huh. Yeah. I see. Right. Great. Great. Really great. Thanks a lot. I owe you one. Oh, boy. Fort Drum. It's on my way back. I can stop by.” I smiled at Guy.

“Are you done now?” he asked, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face.

I was too preoccupied with what Kathryn told me to notice that my inattention hurt and angered Guy. “Do you know anyone at Fort Drum?” I said.

“What's this all about? You come all this way to use my bathroom and use my couch as your phone booth? This is a really great start to our weekend together.”

“Oh, god, I'm sorry, Guy. It's the damn case. I've got a lead I need to follow up on. You don't know anyone at Fort Drum, do you?” I explained to him about the picture of the knife connected to the murder and about David Farone. Kathryn contacted Alumni Affairs to learn that David joined the army and was stationed at Fort Drum. Someone Kathryn knew in Student Affairs got in touch with Captain Rodgers who confirmed that anything associated with disciplinary cases would be stored in the campus security building. Guy listened patiently, more patiently than I had any right to expect.

“Yeah, I do,” he said after I finished.

“You do what?”

“I know someone at Fort Drum.” He sighed. “We might as well get this out of the way. Be right back.” While Guy checked the number, I rummaged around in the fridge looking for something to drink. I grabbed two beers and handed one to him as he returned to the kitchen.

“I'm not promising a thing,” he said. “You might as well sit down for a while,” nodding toward the living room.

“I'll just stay right here.”

“No you won't. I'd like a little privacy.”

“I want to hear what you're going to say about me.”

“No you don't. Sit down out there, or I won't make the call.”

Try as I might, I could not make out what Guy was saying on the phone. He was keeping his voice low.

“What's his name again?” Guy said to me.

“David Farone.” I started to rise from the couch and approach the kitchen door.

“Sit.” Guy pointed toward the couch.

“I could talk to him,” I said. Guy gestured once more at the couch and continued his conversation. After fifteen more minutes, I heard him hang up the receiver.

“It's all set. On Sunday morning at ten David Farone will meet you at the main gate of Fort Drum.”

“Great. Thanks, Guy.”

“It was the only time he had free. Of course it means our visit will be cut short.” He didn't look happy.

Chapter 24

Given Guy's offense at my distraction when I first arrived, and his disappointment that I wouldn't be staying later on Sunday, the weekend was not off to any kind of friendly, much less loving or passionate start. And it seemed to go downhill from there. Guy thought we should stay in for dinner, and I thought it might be more romantic to go out. So we compromised, which usually means that no one is happy (and neither of us were), by having take-out Chinese. By the time we got the food home, it was cold and the restaurant substituted moo shoo pork for my chicken and broccoli. More importantly, they left out the fortune cookies. Considering how poorly things were going, that was probably a blessing. I was in no mood to open a stale fortune cookie reading, “tonight will be a bust.” We both fell into bed after watching a grade “D” movie without so much as a kiss on the cheek.

If I expected things to improve on Saturday, I was wrong. Guy's children came to pay us a visit and were the worst behaved I ever saw them. They arrived at the house fighting, and continued their bickering until Michael finally let go with a fist to Lauren's jaw. I don't think he really meant to hit her, but the lucky punch landed with a loud whack on her chin. I clamped an ice pack on her mouth and jaw, and we all paid a visit to the neighborhood emergency room. X-rays revealed no broken bones, but her jaw began to remind me of my ankle with the rainbow of colors that appeared around her chin line. Explaining the swollen face when we delivered them back to their mother was the high point of the day. From the tone of her voice when she wondered at why Michael would “hit his sister, he never did that before,” I surmised that Guy's ex-wife somehow held me responsible for instigating the sibling rivalry leading to the attack. I bit back a defense on my part and any words I might have wanted to level at her for sending the kids off to Guy in the sparring state when they appeared on the doorstep. If I expected Guy to be grateful at my restraint, he was not. Of course, I was no help when I mused out loud how much worse things could have been if Guy's wife's two kids from her first marriage had been in our charge also.

Another take-out meal, an even worse movie, and we were off to bed on Saturday night in no better a romantic state than we were the night before. I tossed and turned until seven a.m., when I crawled out of bed, grabbed a cup of instant coffee and a stale English muffin, and prepared to leave for my early assignation at Fort Drum. Guy did not stir when I kissed him good-bye.

At the gate, after presenting identification, I was directed into the complex and told to pull my car to the side of the road just beyond the gate. A Humvee pulled up beside my car, the driver signaling me to get in. The driver pulled the vehicle to the side of the road.

“We can talk here,” he said, leaving the engine running. “I'm David Farone, but I'll bet you don't remember me,” the driver said.

He looked nothing like the short, chubby, withdrawn young man I remembered from college. He was thinner, lean and muscular now.

“I'm Dr. Murphy. I do remember you, but do you remember me?”

“I sure do. I took your Introductory Psychology class. If I hadn't gotten thrown out of school, I might have been able to complete it along with my other courses.”

“You told your parents and your bother Adam that I flunked you out of school.”

“Well, yeah. I got my ass, oops, excuse me, I got thrown out. You know that. You were on the Disciplinary Board. I wasn't going to tell my parents the whole story, that's for sure, so I made up a tale where I shifted the blame to you. I knew they would never check. They were too busy with their lives, and my stepfather was too involved making money to care about me. Say, you didn't come all the way up here just to confront me about a story I made up about you, did you?”

“That was an impressive array of weapons you and your friends stashed away in your dorm rooms. I reviewed the pictures the other day. Where did you get all of that stuff?”

David looked puzzled at the direction my questioning was taking. He paused, then replied, a more cautious edge to his voice. “I really don't know where they all came from. The other guys had most of the stuff.”

“And your contribution to the stash?”

“Just a hunting knife, one with a bone handle. It was a gift from my dad, my real dad, not my stepfather.”

“And where is it now?”

“What's this all about? I know I got into some trouble, but that was years ago. I've really straightened myself out. Anyone here can tell you that. Besides those were all college boys' pranks. No one got hurt. We never used those weapons on anyone.”

“Someone did.” I explained to him about his hunting knife. “Someone used that knife to kill a coed, so, you see, it's more than a college prank.”

“You can't believe I had anything to do with that. I've been stationed here since last May.”

“David, where is that knife now?”

“I don't know. I really don't.”

“If your dad gave it to you, you must have wanted it returned to you after the Disciplinary Board hearing.”

“Of course, but I was told I couldn't have it for several days, at least not until I cleared out my room and was on my way off campus. I kind of forgot all about it. I guess Campus Security must still have it locked up in their offices.”

“I sure hope it's still there,” I said.

“You really think someone got ahold of it and killed that woman, don't you?” said David.

I nodded and reached for the door handle. I had gotten about all the information from David that I could.

“Thanks, David, for talking with me. I'll let you know what I find out about the knife.”

“Yeah, right.” As I got out, he asked, “You tracked me down through my stepbrother, didn't you? How well do you know him?”

I didn't want to go into the strained relationship between Adam and me, so I merely replied, “Not well, but I see him occasionally. I'll tell him you said hello, if you'd like.”

“No, that's okay. Don't bother. I'll be in touch with him.” He nodded curtly and left.

*

I was back in my house on the lake by late afternoon, tired, but determined to plow ahead on the case. I needed to call Der, but maybe first I should call Guy. As I was about to pick up the phone to call one of them—Guy, Der, Der, Guy—I noticed the answering machine blinking a message.

“I'm calling from Fort Drum. Could you return my call?” The voice was female.

I called the number left on the message. A woman answered on the first ring.

“This is Major Wingate.”

I introduced myself to her.

“ Guy LaFrance is a long-time friend of mine and called me to set up a meeting time this morning between you and David Farone. I was glad to do that, but Sergeant Farone was supposed to return to his field unit after he met with you. He never made it. He's AWOL. Do you have any idea why he would do that?”

Oh, oh. Was it something I said about the murder?

I shared the morning's conversation with her.

She listened without interrupting, then said, “Hmmm. Well, here's something you might want to know. The weekend of the murder when Sergeant Farone said he was here? He was on leave.”

I assured her I would get back to her when if I learned anything about his whereabouts, then I immediately called Der to let him know about David Farone.

“So how was the weekend with Guy?” said Der when he answered his phone.

“Never mind about that. Oh, and thanks for taking care of Sam. What did you do, cook for her? She just refused to eat her supper.” Before Der could reply I launched into my story about the disciplinary hearing, the pictures of the weapons, and my visit to David Farone.

“We need to contact Campus Security and see if the knife is there,” Der said.

“There's more to it than that, much more.”

“You're so right. Now you've unleashed one of the army's mountain rangers on the public,” Der said.