Chapter Eight

Richard drove over the speed limit as we raced toward a veterinary clinic located in a neighboring town, but I didn’t ask him to slow down. It was worth a ticket to get the kitten some immediate care.

“You’re sure they’re open?” he asked for the fifth time.

“I’m sure. I recently had to research the info for a patron at the library. This vet office has emergency services, available twenty-four/seven. Now, you might have to pay more …”

“I don’t care about that.” Richard glanced over at the kitten, who was in my lap, snuggled in a soft throw he’d pulled off one of his armchairs. “Does she seem to be resting more comfortably now?”

“I think so. Her breathing is more regular. Hopefully it was just the shock from being tossed from the car that made it so labored before.”

“Jerks.” Richard fixed his gaze back on the road, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. “If I could get my hands on them …”

“Me too. But let’s just get her some help. That’s what really matters.”

“Yeah. Now, about before.” Richard didn’t look at me, but I could sense his tension in the rigidity of his arms. “Sorry I was so testy. Not that it excuses me barking at you, but after all that questioning today, I’d just reached my limit.”

That explained some of his behavior, though not all of it. Still, I was willing to let his lack of communication slide, given the pressure he must’ve been under. Knowing Richard, I was certain that once he’d heard the news about Lacey going missing, he’d spent the past several days feeling guilty about not giving her time to discuss whatever was bothering her. Not to mention he’d probably made himself sick with worry over her disappearance.

“I wouldn’t let the questioning bother you too much. You know Brad has to follow every lead even if he doesn’t personally see the need for it. And as for the university—well, I’m sure the campus police talked to all of Lacey’s instructors and friends at Clarion.”

“Yeah, but it was pretty obvious that they were focused on me in particular.” Richard’s knuckles blanched from his grip on the steering wheel. “I was her primary dance instructor. She was part of my studio. And I was the last one at the university to see her. To admit to seeing her, anyway.”

I glanced at him before staring back down at the tortoiseshell kitten. “Surely they don’t suspect you of being involved in her disappearance.”

Richard peeled one hand from the wheel and massaged his jaw. “I don’t know, to be honest. Meredith told me that when they questioned her, they asked some leading questions about my relationship with the girl.”

I stroked the kitten’s soft fur. I shouldn’t have been startled by this reference, although Richard rarely mentioned his former fiancée and partner, Meredith Fox, who was also teaching dance at Clarion this semester. “What sort of questions?”

“She seemed to think that they were trying to uncover any hints that I might’ve had an inappropriate relationship with Lacey.”

“What? Surely no one would believe that.”

“To Meredith’s credit, she said she set them straight on that score.” Richard flashed me a humorless smile. “She told them the idea was ridiculous, among other things.”

“Well, good for Meredith,” I said, feeling more charitable toward the woman than I had in the past. “But I can see how that line of questioning would be unnerving.”

“Yeah.” Richard placed his free hand back on the steering wheel. “You know how careful I am. I always have a TA or accompanist or someone else in the studio with me, especially when I’m working on solos with my dancers. And I leave my office door open when I talk to students.”

“I know, and that’s smart.”

“But people are reporting that they saw Lacey flee my office in tears.”

“That’s all circumstantial.” The kitten had curled around my hand, and I took comfort in the warmth of its small body.

“True, yet with the zero-tolerance policy they’ve instituted at Clarion recently, there’s no leeway granted for anything remotely related to improper relations between faculty or staff and students. It means immediate suspension and can be a firing offense.” Richard’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Of course I agree with that, but Lacey running from my office in tears and then disappearing doesn’t look good. Not good at all.”

“Maybe not, but consider it in context. There’s never been a hint of any indiscretions on your part toward your dancers, at Clarion or elsewhere, has there?”

“No, but you have to understand”—Richard cast me a troubled glance—“such behavior is so rampant that it’s easy for people to jump to conclusions.”

“I know. I remember all the gossip and rumors swirling around certain professors and staff when I worked at Clarion.” I shook my head. “It’s a shame.”

“It’s disgusting is what it is. When you’re in a position of authority, like a teacher or a mentor or choreographer, you should never abuse the power you’ve been given. No one should be made to feel like they’re being harassed or that they have to offer up … anything just to get ahead or keep a job.” Richard said this with such vehemence that I turned to him with raised eyebrows.

He looked away, focusing on the road. “You have to understand—I know the damage it can do. I’ve been on the other side of it as a dancer.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage to say as I stared at his handsome profile.

Of course he had. I shook my head. “I know you’d never do something like that to someone else. Abuse your authority, I mean.”

“Good. Because you may hear all sorts of sordid speculation until this whole Lacey Jacobs situation is cleared up. It’s the way these things go, sadly.”

“I’ll just follow Meredith’s example and set them straight.”

Richard offered me the first real smile I’d seen from him that day. “As only you can.”

“I’ll certainly shut them down. Probably not as elegantly as Aunt Lydia, but I’ll do my best. Okay, there’s the clinic. Time to get this little one checked out.”

After we parked in the surprisingly full parking lot, Richard insisted that he carry in the kitten. “If she makes it, I’m going to keep her, so I’d like to register her under my name.” He held out his hands. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” I handed over the bundled ball of fur with reluctance. I would’ve liked to adopt her, but that was something that would have to be cleared with Aunt Lydia, and I wasn’t sure how she’d react. She’d never shown any interest in having a pet. It was probably best to allow Richard to take in the kitten. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t see her all the time, anyway.

I hoped. I cast a surreptitious glance at Richard as he filled out the paperwork. His words in the car had relieved my anxiety, at least in terms of his odd behavior toward me. No doubt a combination of guilt, concern, and exhaustion had taken a serious toll on him, temporarily altering his behavior. But I was still concerned that he hadn’t told me everything.

There is still something to do with a station. I don’t understand why Richard was standing in a bus or train station during our phone call Friday evening. No, I couldn’t think about that right now. I had to file away that question for another day.

After Richard and the kitten were ushered into an exam room, I sank down on one of the plastic benches that lined the waiting room and allowed my attention to drift to the television monitor. Although the sound was muted, it displayed the latest news via a text crawl.

“Amy, is that you?” asked a masculine voice.

Ethan Payne, the young firefighter who’d once rescued me from an abandoned well, approached me. He was a good-looking young man in his late twenties, with a physique that spoke of hours spent at the gym.

“Hi, Ethan. What brings you here?”

“My dog, Cassie. She was injured when we were out hiking today.” Ethan sat down beside me. “They’re checking her over now. X-rays and all that, so I have to wait out here. What brings you in so late?”

“Someone tossed a kitten out of a car in front of my boyfriend’s house. She seemed to be breathing irregularly, so we’re getting her checked out.”

“Well, talk about scum.” Ethan unzipped his lightweight camouflage jacket to reveal a plain navy T-shirt. “Sometimes I just don’t understand people.”

“Me either.” I looked him over. “How are you? We haven’t spoken in quite some time.” As Ethan leaned back against the painted concrete block wall, I couldn’t help but notice the red mud discoloring his hiking boots and jeans. “Looks like you took a tumble.”

He glanced down and flicked some caked dirt off one knee. “Yeah. Cassie fell into a hole. I had to pull her out.”

“Seems like something you have to do far too often,” I said with a smile.

Ethan stretched his legs out across the tiled floor. “This wasn’t quite as difficult as your rescue but just as unexpected. Cassie and I have hiked that trail plenty of times, and I never realized there were any deep pits right off the path. But I guess it makes sense, being in the mountains and all. Lots of rock falls and fissures up there. Even a few caverns.”

“I’m sorry that Cassie was injured,” I said, realizing that I hadn’t expressed that sentiment yet.

Ethan cast me a warm smile. “Thanks. Vet says she’ll be okay. They just need to make sure she didn’t break any bones.” He slid off his jacket and draped it, inside out, across his lap. “She was chasing a rabbit.”

I noticed the bullets tucked into a specially designed pocket inside his jacket. “Were you out hunting?”

“Um, no.” Ethan swiftly folded the jacket so that the bullets were hidden. “Not hunting season.”

I made an aha face and pressed my finger to my lips. “I see. Anyway, I’m glad to hear that the vet thinks your dog will recover. I hope we hear the same about the kitten.”

“Yeah, me too.” Ethan stirred beside me on the hard bench. “By the way, you probably don’t know this, but Chris Garver is my boyfriend. We met this past fall when I was taking some continuing ed courses at the university. You’re going to laugh, ’cause we actually met in the library. We were both reaching for books from opposite sides of those double-faced shelves, and our eyes met …” Ethan’s smile made me suspect he was reliving the memory.

“A definite ‘meet cute,’ ” I said.

“It was. Anyway, I wanted to thank you for helping Chris and the other students with their research. That professor of his has been such a taskmaster. It’s tough for him to complete all of her assignments, not to mention the extra-credit work. And it’s not like that’s the only course he’s taking.”

Ethan spoke these words in such a disgusted tone that I turned to look at him more closely. “Doesn’t sound as if you like Professor Raymond much.”

He raised and dropped his broad shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “I’ve never been able to stand the woman. Not just because she’s always piled too much work on her students. She also …” He shook his head. “Never mind. She’s just made some unfortunate comments in the past. Things I haven’t appreciated, especially when it comes to Chris.”

“Are you saying she’s a bit of a bigot?”

“More than a bit.” Ethan grimaced. “It’s hard enough for Chris as it is, what with his family not being very accepting, so when one of his teachers kept dropping little comments too …” Ethan squeezed a wadded section of his jacket between his fingers. “She always acted like she was something special, with all her stories and other talk, but tell you the truth I think shutting Mona Raymond up permanently could be called a community service.”

These last words were spoken with such passion that I couldn’t think of an appropriate reply. Fortunately, the vet tech walked out and called for Ethan.

“See ya,” Ethan said as he headed back toward the exam rooms with a wave goodbye.

I pressed the back of my head against the hard wall behind me and stared at the television monitor. Reading the news scroll without any real interest, I suddenly leapt to my feet.

“Well, how about that,” I said under my breath, before crossing the room to stand closer to the screen.

“Something happening?” asked the receptionist.

“The authorities think they might have a new lead on the Jacobs girl.” Seeing the young woman’s confusion, I continued, “Haven’t you heard about that case?”

“Oh, right.” The receptionist stepped out from behind the desk to get a better look at the monitor. “Looks like her friends are asking for help too.”

I stared at the screen, reading the information scrolling below the faces of Chris and Hope. Chris was apparently mentioning a hat that Lacey loved and suggesting she might have worn it into the woods.

“White, with neon blue snowflakes around the edge,” the closed captioning read. “Lacey’s grandmother knitted the hat and gave it to Lacey right before she passed away, so Lacey treasured it. It’s fairly bright and so should be something you could easily spot.”

I knew that hat. Lacey had seemed excessively attached to it, sometimes even keeping it on indoors. Although, come to think of it, I hadn’t seen her wearing it the last couple of times she’d been in the archives. Of course, the weather was much warmer than when the semester had begun.

“But,” the receptionist said, shaking her head, “even with the nights still turning cool, would she wear a knitted hat in late April?”

“I don’t know. She did love that hat.” I met the other woman’s inquisitive gaze. “I’ve helped the girl with some research at the Taylorsford library.”

“Ah, okay. Well, I sure hope they find her soon. It gets pretty cold up in the mountains at night, even this time of year.” The receptionist crossed back behind the desk to greet Richard. He’d walked out from the exam area with the kitten wrapped in the soft throw and snuggled against his chest.

“What’s up?” he asked.

I examined the kitten, but all I could see was her slightly comical face, with its splash of black fur framing one eye and corresponding orange patch encircling the other, and her oversized black ears. “Just some more news about the search for Lacey. Her friends are making a plea for information, that’s all.” I reached out to stroke the kitten’s head. “Is she okay?”

“Perfectly fine. No internal injuries or broken bones. It was apparently just the shock of being tossed out of the car that had her breathing hard. But she’s going to be okay.” Richard bent his head to address the kitten in a soothing voice. “Aren’t you, Loie?”

I lifted my eyebrows. “Loie?”

Richard looked up at me with a smile. “I named her after Loie Fuller, a famous modern dancer from the early twentieth century. I thought it was appropriate because Loie the dancer was flamboyant, rather like this kitten’s coat. And cats move like dancers, you know.”

“If you say so.” I touched the kitten’s nose. “Hello, Loie. You do realize what a lucky cat you are, I hope? Because I can already tell that your new dad is going to spoil you rotten.”

Loie just licked my finger again and stared at me with a smug look in her wide green eyes that told me—yes, she knew.