Ray Elkins mystery - 02 - Color Tour (20 page)

“Long, interesting, and, at times, quite sad—especially the time in Cleveland,” she responded, placing a yellow plastic grocery bag, its sides embossed with print, and a cooler on the desk in front of Ray. “But you’re a lucky man, Elkins. I got everything on the list. And,” she laughed as she handed him the cash register slip, “you owe me most of your next paycheck.”

“How was Zingerman’s?” he asked, thinking about his favorite Ann Arbor deli.

“Wonderful, expensive, fattening, great aromas. That bread was hot when I picked it up. So was the pastrami sandwich. Smelled wonderful! Boy are you lucky I didn’t eat it on the way back.” She opened the cooler and placed a bag filled with packages on the desk for Ray’s inspection. “I’ve never spent sixty bucks just on cheese before, and there’s not much there. And forty-five dollars for a little bottle of vinegar,” she said, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“Thank you for doing this,” Ray said without responding to her comments as he looked for the total amount on the statement. He pulled a checkbook from his desk and began writing. “How did things go with David Dowd’s parents and the apartment search?”

“I have them written up, I could print you a copy.”

“Just give me a quick summary,” Ray said, handing over the check. He opened the bag and peered in at the cheese. “I’ll read your whole report later.”

“Sure you don’t want me to go away and leave you with your treasures?” she teased.

Ray closed the sack and placed it on the top of a bookcase behind him. Turning to her he said, “You have my undivided attention.”

“I got to Shaker Heights in the middle of the afternoon. Met with Dowd’s mother, Grace. Her house was full of people sitting shivah, piles of food, and lots of talk. She’s an elementary principal. The crowd was a study in diversity.” She paused, her tone intensified. “You could just see how much people value her. I know it sounds sort of corny, but there was so much love there. People helping her and each other with this loss.”

“How’s she doing?” Ray asked.

“Given the circumstances, quite remarkably. Grace is an amazing woman.”

“During my phone conversation with her, I sensed that. She did her best to be helpful, and she was asking all the right questions. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any answers,” observed Ray.

“I had a similar experience. Like she sensed my discomfort and helped me get through the interview. And then she insisted that I have something to eat before she let me get on the road. She even wanted to make a care package for me.”

“What did you learn?

“David was a wonderful son, had a bright future, would have done something useful with his life and made the world a better place. All of the kinds of things you’d expect a mother to say, but in this case it all seems to be true.”

“And his relationship with Ashleigh?”

“Grace said she was first introduced to Ashleigh years ago, when David was a student at Leiston. David and Ashleigh were close friends then and had stayed in contact, even though they had gone to different colleges. She thought they had started seeing each other on a more regular basis sometime last winter. She didn’t know how serious their relationship was, but thought that they made a good couple.”

“Any suggestion that someone might want to… ”

“No.” Sue moved her head from side to side. “She can’t imagine that he had any enemies. That wasn’t part of his personality.” Sue paused and looked directly at Ray. “She really pushed me hard; she desperately wants to know why this happened. And there was nothing I could tell her.”

“How about the father?”

“He was there also. I think he and Grace have been divorced for about ten years. He seemed to be her opposite.”

“How so?” Ray asked.

“Grace is effusive and magnetic. Saul, well, he’s very quiet and introspective. He’s a psychiatrist.”

“Did you learn anything from him?”

“No, he echoed Grace’s remarks. He was really devastated; it was a struggle for him to talk about his son. He was always on the edge of tears, it was very sad. He, too, pressed me for answers. It’s so difficult when you don’t have anything to tell them. I’ve keyed a complete transcript of my conversation with each of them.” She paused, “Interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“Grace, she’s a woman I’d really like to know; I’m sure I could learn a lot from her about,” she paused as she reached for the right words, “about how to live a life. Too bad we had to meet this way. One additional thing, she gave me the names of two of David’s friends from undergraduate school. I called them from Ann Arbor, one lives in California and the other in Connecticut. And they gave me the same story. David was a very sincere, hard working, pleasant kind of guy with a wonderful sense of humor. They had never known him to make an enemy.”

“Police records?” Ray asked.

“He ran a stop sign when he was seventeen. That’s it.”

“So, tell me about Ann Arbor.”

“I went through Dowd’s apartment. The detectives from the AAPD had all the paperwork taken care of before I arrived; they were great. We met the landlord, who opened the place up for us. They had an evidence team available at the scene if we needed them.”

“And?”

“I think the place was just as he left it. The apartment is in one of those old houses on Ann Street just off Ingalls; it’s a couple of blocks from Rackham. The apartments are usually total wrecks, but his place was nicely put together.” She paused, “And real neat; and no one had been in there rummaging through things. On his desk I found what appeared to be a beginning draft of his dissertation.”

Ray saw the sadness in her eyes. “Anything that might help us?” Ray asked hopefully.

“No. Nothing. Books, clothes, papers, and an assortment of well-used sports equipment, like five tennis rackets. No TV, no drugs, no porn, not even a Playboy. The Ann Arbor Police are working with the university to get the contents of his e-mail account, and they’ll go through the hard drive of his computer. They’ve also requested a copy of his phone records. Everything is going to be available to us as soon as they get it, but I don’t think there’s anything there.”

“Damn,” said Ray. “I was hoping we’d get some kind of lead.” He sat quietly, considering his next question. He knew Sue had recently ended a long-term relationship, one that stretched back to high school. The romance had lasted through college, continued while her love interest, Braeton, attended medical school. But it had finally come to an end as he was completing his residency. She had been very open with Ray about the breakup, and he had done his best to be supportive, often not knowing the best way to respond. “Did you see Braeton?” he finally said.

“I dialed his number twice and hung up before it rang, drove by his apartment to see if his car was in the lot. It wasn’t. In the late afternoon I walked down through the Arboretum like we used to. And I sat on
our
bench and watched the river. I wanted so much to see him, but I didn’t want to deal with all the things that were wrong with the relationship.”

“You haven’t quite put him in the past yet.”

“I have, on a rational level. There’s just some nostalgia that I’m still dealing with. You spend years thinking about a life together and then,” she let her words hang. Brightening up she continued, “I think I need to find a man who’s more local. Anyway, the two detectives took me to dinner. They wanted to know how many people we had working the case.”

“What did you tell them?”

“The truth. They gave me a good razzing. But I reminded them that we don’t even have a stoplight in this county, and that we’re investing a major part of our resources into this investigation.” Sue giggled, “They spent most of the evening trying to convince me that I should apply to their department.

“And after dinner I spent a quiet night at Webber’s Inn keying my reports. Got into Zingerman’s early, and here I am. Bet you were hoping that Braeton and I would get back together so you could have a regular source again,” she pointed at the bag.

“Not necessarily. I value your long-term happiness more than pastrami.”

“Great. What a guy. But do you value my happiness more than a good Stilton, one with a firm rind?”

“Now that’s a tough one,” he responded, giving her a gentle smile.

29
Sue watched as Ray uncoiled the lines and carefully lowered Ashleigh’s kayak to her apartment floor. He rolled the boat over and assiduously inspected the hull, running his hand over the glassy surface.

“Well?” asked Sue.

“Couldn’t have been this boat. Look at it, there’s hardly a scratch on it, let alone a patch. It’s almost new. I wonder if she had another boat stored here somewhere? The school is supposed to own a collection of kayaks. I’ll make a call.”

Ray went into Ashleigh’s office, removed the campus directory from under the phone. Sue listened to the conversation, and after he hung up, she asked, “Well?”

“The old horse barn is used to store, among other things, kayaks, canoes, sailboats, and bicycles. Sarah James is going to meet us outside the building; she said she can identify Ashleigh’s other kayak.”

“How does she know?”

“Turns out she’s been using it since Ashleigh bought this one last spring. I told you it was new,” Ray said, motioning toward the boat.

“Pretty woman, Sarah James,” said Sue as they repositioned the slings under the kayak’s bow and stern. Ray pulled the boat back to its place near the ceiling and tied off the lines.

“Interesting decorating,” Sue said, looking up at the boat. “I imagine you approve of her approach to interior design.”

Ray nodded.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a kayak hanging from your ceiling,” Sue said.

“I could do that,” Ray smiled. “When I lived in the farmhouse I kept kayaks in the living room, even built a couple there.”

Sarah was waiting for them at the large center door of the barn. She moved to greet them as they approached. Handing Ray a manila envelope she said, “Here’s the list of the students who were on that trip with Ashleigh. Helen Warrington was able to pull them from the alumni database.”

“You have addresses for all twelve?”

“Actually, only eleven. One of the students, Denton Freeler, is deceased.”

“Really. Do you have any more information?”

“I asked Helen if she knew how or when he died.”

“And?”

“She didn’t. She just got a note that he had died. His parents live in the Middle East; his father works for an American oil company.” Sarah paused. “Helen said that’s usually the way it happens; just a note or an e-mail, seldom anything more.”

“What do you remember about this person, Denton… ?”

“Freeler. He was in my son’s class, but I don’t recall much about him. He’s not someone Eric hung around with.” Sarah looked thoughtful. “He was a gangly kid with reddish-brown hair, very quiet, perhaps very shy. If you’re interested, I’ll see what else I can find.”

“Please.”

They walked into the cool, dark interior of the barn. Sarah switched on the lights.

“Let’s see, where did I put it last time I used it?” Sarah looked along the wall where several dozen kayaks and canoes were suspended on large wooden dowels. “There it is,” she pointed to a kayak, its red deck faded in spots, its white hull showing years of hard use. Sue helped Ray carry the boat out to an open area near the center of the barn. With the boat resting on the floor, he pulled the seat loose and inspected the interior of the cockpit, then he rolled the boat over and looked at the hull.

“Finding anything?” Sue asked.

“Look,” said Ray, pointing to two areas. The two women crouched on the other side of the boat. “You can see where the boat has been patched. Someone did an excellent job repairing the hull.” He rolled the boat over again and pointed to the areas in the cockpit. “The patches on the interior are more obvious and they’re mostly hidden under the seat. Looks like she had the boat professionally repaired some time after that camping trip.”

“Well, that fits with the story,” responded Sarah.

“And you told me one of the kids on the trip is still at Leiston?”

“Yes, Billy Wylder, he’s a senior.”

“Any possibility of our talking with him a few minutes about this incident?”

“Well, I can’t imagine there… ” she paused. “Perhaps I should check with Ian.”

Ray read her caution. “This is just an interview, Sarah. I would welcome either you or Ian or both sitting in while I talk with Billy.” She nodded.

“Are you still using this boat?” Ray asked Sarah.

“No, I’m just a warm-weather paddler; I haven’t been out since late September.”

“I’d like to have this piece of evidence in a secure location.”

“I’m not sure our evidence room is designed for eighteenfoot boats,” offered Sue. “How about Ashleigh’s apartment?” They both looked at Sarah.

“Why not?” she said.

30
Sarah escorted a large, pudgy, red-haired boy into the conference room. Ray stood to greet them. “Sheriff Ray Elkins, I’d like to introduce you to Billy Wylder. Today Billy is celebrating his seventeenth birthday.”

“Well, happy birthday, Billy,” said Ray, offering his hand as he studied Billy’s freckled face.

Billy took Ray’s hand, held it limply, and withdrew as quickly as possible. Ray pulled out a chair for Billy at the head of the conference table and took the one immediately to his right. Sarah settled on Billy’s left.

“What do you want to talk to me about?” Billy asked as soon as he settled his ungainly body into the chair. His forehead glistened with perspiration. “It’s about Ms. Allen, isn’t it?” he asked tentatively.

“Yes.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. He looked directly at Ray, his pale blue eyes magnified in the thick, greasy lenses.

“You had her as a teacher, right?”

“Yes,” he responded, rocking his body forward. “Tell me about the classes you took from her.”

“I had three,” he said, looking around the room.

“And what were the classes, Billy?”

“I had earth science in ninth and biology in tenth.”

“That’s two, Billy.”