Genevieve looked through her notes for what must have been the tenth time that morning. Whitham had motive to kill Delamont; he was drowning in debt. Money was always a good motive, but she wasn’t sure how it fit in with Delamont’s death. She thought back to her conversation with Cari.
Cari had reason to believe that something with Hartfeld tied Delamont’s death to the track star’s collapse and death. She said that he did research on hamsters, which seemed completely meaningless to Genevieve. Her friend had been so adamant that Genevieve felt obligated to dig into Hartfeld a little more. He still hadn’t returned Alex’s call, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t use the internet to get more information. She opened a browser window and typed his name into the search bar along with ‘hamsters’ even though that seemed ridiculous. The search returned zero results. Genevieve sighed. She deleted hamsters and added the name of the university to the search. His lab webpage was the first result on the list. She clicked on the link.
Hartfeld was a member of the biochemistry department, which she already knew. He also lectured in undergraduate classes, as Tommy had told them. She clicked on the Research Topics tab. The page listed several papers that Hartfeld’s lab had authored, but the titles were meaningless to Genevieve. She had taken biology and chemistry in high school, but that was it. She scrolled down the list of articles, pausing when she saw the word metabolism. Maybe this was what Cari was keying in on; Hartfeld researched metabolism. How did that tie into Delamont though? She looked over at Alex, who was angrily sorting the paperwork on his desk.
“Alex, did you take biology or chemistry in college?”
“Did I what? Why would I take those classes?”
“I took them in high school, but for my criminology degree, I focused more on psychology than biology. There were two different tracks. I didn’t want to be a lab rat, so I went the other direction.”
Alex raised his eyebrows as if to say, great, who cares?
“Anyway, Hartfeld does research on metabolism. I think that maybe Cari thinks that’s what ties all of this together, but why? I thought if you understood some of this science stuff, maybe we could put two and two together here.”
“Still with the reporter? You know she was just fishing for inside information. I’m a zero on science, Gen. Sorry.”
“Metabolism, though. That’s like nutrition, right?”
“Oh, I see what you’re getting at. Yeah, I think those are related. I still feel like we’re missing something. None of the athletes said anything about Dr. Hartfeld. I don’t think they even know who he is.”
Genevieve shrugged. “I didn’t specifically ask them. At that point, he was just the emergency contact.”
“If he doesn’t call back soon, then let’s just go to his house again. He can’t hide from us forever.”
Before she could agree, her desk phone rang with a call from CSU. She grabbed it.
“Chris! Tell me you’ve got something for us.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I wasn’t able to find any history in the cache or the SIM card, but the app did have a web version!”
“And?” Genevieve asked excitedly.
“He had a deleted meeting request for yesterday morning at 6:45. It didn’t show up in the app anymore because the person who requested it also canceled it.”
“I’m on the edge of my seat here, Chris. Who? Who had requested a meeting?”
“It only gave me an account number, so I had to request the identity of the user from the app developer.”
Genevieve’s heart sank. “And they wouldn’t release it without a warrant.”
“Exactly, but!”
“But what?”
“There was also a phone number associated with the meeting request. I put in a request for the owner of the number. Unless it’s unlisted, we should get that back soon.”
“What’s the number, Chris? We have a whole list of numbers and names that were contacts for Delamont that the school gave us.”
“Awesome. Let me find it in my notes here, just a sec.”
She waited while he shuffled papers around and then came back on the line to read the number to her. She was ready with a pencil to record the new one. She repeated the number back to him to make sure that she hadn’t transposed any of the digits.
“This is a big help, Chris. Thanks so much! Gotta run.” She hung up.
“Do you have that list of phone numbers and names handy, Alex?”
He rifled through the paperwork on his desk again until he found the page she was asking for. “I got it right here. What’s the number?”
“817-634-9989.”
“That number belongs to one Andrew Niles. We could probably get a warrant to search his home.”
“Let’s put in a request, but I also want to bring him in. I’m going to call Chris back and see if they can triangulate his location. Who knows where he is on a Sunday?”
* * * * * * * * * *
Genevieve and Alex went down to the CSU lab to see if Chris could locate the whereabouts of Andrew Niles’ phone. The athlete hadn’t mentioned scheduling a meeting with Delamont that morning. The fact that he’d deleted the meeting request was very suspicious.
Alex held the door for Genevieve when they reached the CSU. She stepped into the lab space and walked over to Chris’ desk.
“How did you get stuck working on a Sunday?” She asked him.
“We all get assigned shifts. It’s my turn for the full weekend haul.” He motioned to his computer screen. “I pulled up the number you want to triangulate. Unfortunately, the user doesn’t have his phone on right now, so we can’t ping its location.”
“Can we get a back log or history of his previous locations?” Alex asked.
“Not without a warrant. The cell phone companies have pretty strict privacy policies.”
Genevieve pursed her lips. “Well, he’s not going to leave his phone off forever. No teenager could handle that. Can you keep this search active for us and let us know when the phone does turn on?”
“That I can do.” Chris nodded.
“Thanks, man. We appreciate it.” Alex turned back towards the exit. “Why don’t we try to track Hartfeld down while we’re waiting to hear back from Chris on this kid’s phone?”
“He seems like the type to only be at his lab or his house, so where do we want to check first?”
Chris interrupted them. “Does this Hartfeld guy have a cell? I can add him to the search if you have his number.”
The detectives turned around. “Of course, that would be so much easier than driving around town to find him.”
Genevieve opened the case file and found Hartfeld’s cell phone number. She read it off to Chris and verified that he had entered it correctly into his search program. The application gave the same result as before, no signal found.
“Are you sure this thing is accurate? Like its server isn’t down or something?” Alex asked Chris.
Chris rolled his eyes. “I’m sure and I’ll prove it to you. Let’s check your phone then, Detective. What’s the number?”
Alex entered his number with the keypad. Almost immediately, the address of the precinct popped up on the screen. He shrugged.
“You never know with technology.” He frowned. “Let’s keep the search active for both of these numbers. NOT for my number.”
Chris grinned. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
Genevieve followed Alex back to the elevator. It felt like they were continually running into a brick wall. With every good lead, they were hit with an obstacle that prevented them from moving forward.
* * * * * * * * * *
Cari returned to her office after meeting with Bob. Her friend had told her that the detectives were looking closely at both Bryan Hartfeld and Curtis Whitham. He didn’t know the names of the athletes they had interviewed on campus yesterday, but he did know that there were eight of them. They had selected the eight because of an app Delamont used on his cell phone. As she walked into the newsroom, she saw Cardian walking past her desk with a cup of coffee. He looked her way when he heard the door open.
“Working on a weekend? What are you chasing, Miss Turnlyle?” The large man asked her. He was balding noticeably but wore a toupee that did a terrible job of hiding it. The man had to be at least seventy years old and had a gut that got larger every year. He was vain, arrogant, and everything that was irritating about old men. He had a southern drawl that was distinctive. She wondered if he was actually from the south or if he added the accent to make himself have more charisma somehow. Everything about him seemed fake.
“Good morning, Lionel. I’m just here to work on a follow up story from the track meet last week.” She eyed him cautiously. Rumors still floated around the office that Cardian was a bit of a womanizer and had dodged a few sexual harassment cases over the years.
“A follow up story on a track meet? Could there be anything more boring? Who wants to read about the track meet in the first place?”
Cari forced her lips into a smile. “I think a lot of our athletes like to see their names in print, if nothing else.”
“Say, I’ve been meaning to ask you. I was trying to get some interviews with some of the athletic coaches over at the university, but they all froze me out. Pissants. You do sports. Help me get some interviews with these people and it could be beneficial to you in the long run.”
She turned her head sideways. “Beneficial how?”
“I’d put in a good word for you with our dear ole editor here. Get you moved out of sports faster.” He winked.
Cari fought back a gag. “I would love to help you out, Lionel, but our editor told me not to bother any of the coaches this weekend. He’s been taking some heat from it. The media relations person chewed him out already once.”
“That media relations girl is no help at all! She just gave me the form statement that they issued to all the news outlets. I need an interview, damnit!” He shook his fist in the air.
“I’m afraid that you’re asking the wrong person. That’s above my pay grade.” She shrugged and walked around him to her desk. “Good luck with your story, Lionel.” She said dismissively as she sat down at her desk. He scowled at her and walked away. Served him right, the old goat. He was so far behind on this story and he didn’t even know it.
* * * * * * * * * *
Andrew strolled into the library conference room for the calculus review session. Casey had described Tiffany as a curvy blonde with glasses. He glanced around the room. There were already six people sitting at the table with their notebooks out and their books open. He was glad that he’d come early and checked out one of the library’s copies of the book. He knew right away which student was Tiffany. She was the only one wearing glasses. Mentally, he chastised Casey for describing the girl as curvy. More like overweight plus, he thought. He took his backpack off of his shoulder and walked over to the side of the table where Tiffany was sitting.
“Are you Tiffany?” He asked quietly.
“That’s me.” She smiled and nodded.
“A friend of mine said that there was a calculus review session here right now. Is that what this is?”
“You’ve come to the right place, sir. What’s your name?”
“Andrew Niles. I’ve gotten a little behind in class because of baseball and need to get back on track.”
“I’m sure we can get you caught up. We were just about to start. Why don’t you have a seat?”
Tiffany got up and went to the whiteboard. She instructed the other students that she would be starting with the chapter review work on page 247. Andrew quickly flipped to the page. He vaguely recognized the graphs and symbols from high school. Hopefully, enough of it would come back to him that he could ask some coherent questions and not blow his cover. It sure would be easier to just ask this girl on a date.
The review session seemed to drag on forever. Andrew tried to casually check his watch without looking bored. They had finally made it to the last problem in the review set. Tiffany put the marker down after writing the problem on the whiteboard.
“Andrew, would you like to walk us through this one?”
He tried not to show his shock. He had been writing all of the answers into his notebook like everyone else, but he had not recognized how they were solving any of them. He stood up slowly.
“Uh, sure, but I’ll probably need a little coaching with it.” He grinned at Tiffany.
“We’re right behind you, Andrew. Literally. We’ll be right here.” She giggled at her joke.
He hoped his smile didn’t look as fake as it felt. He walked over to the whiteboard and picked up the marker.
“Okay, so to solve this last one, the first thing you need to do is…” he stalled.
“Integrate within the limits…” Tiffany started, raising her eyebrows in an encouraging manner.
Integrate, limits. The terms were still just familiar to him. He looked at the symbols on the board and felt his frustration growing. Tiffany spoke up again.
“Did you need your notebook?” She had picked it up off of the table and was walking it over to him.
“Oh, right. Thanks.” He looked at the problems, but wasn’t sure what any meant. “To integrate, we need to—”
“Good grief. We’ve done this like twenty-eight times already. Give me the marker.” A short guy with acne and greasy hair walked up to the board and took the marker from Andrew. He stepped back, a little stunned.
“Theo, that was rude.” Tiffany admonished him.
“Whatever. He obviously hasn’t learned anything today or any other day.” He quickly wrote the answer on the board and then sat back down.
Andrew shrugged sheepishly. “I guess I need a little more help if you have time.”
“I’d be happy to stick around, Andrew. Everyone else, unless you have further questions, this is the end of our study session for today. We’ll meet again next week. Same time, same place.”
The other five students packed up their belongings and filed out of the room. Andrew sat down in front of his notebook again as Tiffany erased and cleaned the board.
“I really appreciate this. How long have you been leading this study group?”
“All semester. I really love math and I want to be a math professor one day. I’m hoping this will give me some experience.”
“That’s great. I do not love math, and I hope to not take another class again.” He grinned at her in a teasing manner.
She laughed. “Well, maybe I can change your mind about that. Which section are you in?”
“Of the book? Or?” He was confused.
“No, silly. Which class? Who is your professor?”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He racked his brain trying to remember a math professor’s name. “I should know that, but I’ve missed a few classes this semester and…” He should have asked Casey who the professor was. He was feeling more and more like an idiot with each passing second.
“I understand. Okay, it seems like integrals are really tripping you up. We’ve already done all the review questions, so why don’t we go back a few sections and do some of the problems earlier in the chapter?”
“Works for me.” He nodded.
They continued through the chapter for another hour. Andrew did his best to stay engaged and constantly complimented her teaching. While he had no desire to learn calculus again, he had to hand it to her. She was really good at explaining the material.
“I think I’m starting to get the hang of this. We have an exam next Thursday. I really need to do well on it, or I might get put on academic probation. Coach was pretty peeved at me for signing up for this class in the first place.”
“You said that you’re a business major. Why are you taking calculus?”
Andrew had assumed this question would come up and had planned an answer for it. He made himself blush. “Would you believe it was for a girl?”
“What? You are taking calculus to impress a girl?”
“Not exactly. I was sort of dating a girl last semester and she was signing up for calculus. She thought it would be fun if we could take a class together. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but we didn’t get into the same class. I only take twelve hours a semester so that I can focus mostly on baseball, so I had to stick with it even though it’s not a credit that I need.”
“She must be a pretty special girl to get you to take calculus,” Tiffany said quietly.
“Actually, she broke up with me right after the semester started. She said that I was too into myself and baseball. Now I’m stuck taking calculus for no reason and looking like a fool.”
“You are not a fool, Andrew. You made a lot of progress this afternoon.”
“I had a great teacher.” He smiled at her. “I really can’t thank you enough for spending an extra hour with me. Can I take you to dinner or something? I owe you one.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I’m happy to help.”
“No, I insist. What kind of food do you like? Tex-Mex, Italian, Greek?”
“Well, Tex-Mex is my favorite, but really, you don’t need to buy me dinner. Besides, I work at the ice cream parlor and my shift starts at 6. We’d have to go eat at 4:30 or something ridiculous.” She giggled nervously.
“4:30 it is. I know a really great Tex-Mex place just off campus. I’ll pick you up at 4:15?”
“Are you sure? Wow. Okay, let me give you my address.” She giggled again.
Andrew mentally gave himself a high five. He’d give this address to Emma too. She could swing by and try to talk to the girlfriend face to face.
* * * * * * * * * *
Cari tried to remember what she was thinking about when she first got to the newsroom. Cardian’s interruption had really sidetracked her train of thought. She tapped her pencil on her desk and it came to her. Bob had told her that there were eight athletes that Genevieve and her partner had interviewed. Cari thought she might be able to ferret out some of the names by looking into the newspaper’s archived editions. She remembered interviewing a student last year who had broken the school record for most home runs in a season. At the time, it had seemed like a routine article. Newsworthy because records weren’t broken every season, but not completely unexpected. She found the article and refreshed her memory. Andrew Niles.
A quick Google search revealed that Niles had had a successful high school baseball career. He hadn’t broken any records, but he had hit more than his fair share of homers. His hometown paper had speculated that he would go to one of the big DI schools on a baseball scholarship. So how did you end up at our private university, Mr. Niles? She dug a little deeper and found a Facebook link to another local headline. Niles was quoted as saying that he had expected to sign with a DI school, but after meeting the baseball coach as well as various members of the athletic department, he had changed his mind. Cari skimmed the article some more and found what she had been looking for. Niles felt like the private school offered him the whole package and even the sports medicine doctor is part of helping you achieve your goals.
This wasn’t solid evidence that Niles had been one of Delamont’s athletes, but it seemed promising. She opened her notes document and added Niles to the list with Emma Savol and Stephen Ithaca. She wished that she could get Marjorie to help her identify some of the others. Obviously, Genevieve wasn’t going to share information with her. Cari opened another tab on her browser. She tried to come up with the right search parameters that would point her towards Delamont but might not mention his name. What was it that Marjorie had said Stephen called the powder? Nutritional supplement. She typed nutritional supplement + sports medicine along with the university’s name into the search engine. As expected, it yielded thousands of results. Before narrowing her search options, she decided to click through a few links. The first four were completely unrelated and more like advertisements, but the fifth one was a news article from the Butler County Record. She didn’t know where Butler County was, but the story mentioned a swimmer by the name of Casey Ryvers who had qualified for state in the 100-meter butterfly for two years in a row. The young woman was interviewed following a signing ceremony that her high school had hosted for all of the graduating seniors who received athletic scholarships for college. “Getting a scholarship to swim in college has always been my dream. I knew this was the school for me after my first visit with the athletic department. I was treated like royalty; I not only met the athletic director, but also the chief sports medicine doctor. Everyone works together to help every athlete reach their highest potential.”
Cari went back to her own newspaper’s archives and searched for Ryvers. Ms. Ryvers was a standout on the swim team. She was even named as one of the captains as a sophomore. Cari added Casey Ryvers to her growing list. Checking her watch, she realized that she’d worked through lunch already. She felt like she was on a roll and didn’t want to quit. She continued sifting through the news articles and collecting names for her list. She wasn’t sure how she was going to contact any of the students, but she’d worry about that later.
Cari had added five names to her list when she felt her cell phone buzz. She thought about letting it go to voicemail, but maybe it was Genevieve calling to apologize for being so rude and condescending last night. She pulled her phone from her pocket and saw Marjorie’s name flashing on the screen. It’s about time, she thought.
“Hi Marjorie! What’s up?”
Cari strained to hear what she was saying. “Marjorie? Are you there? I can barely hear you.”
“I want to talk to you. Can you meet me somewhere?”
“Marjorie, of course. Are you okay? Has something changed?”
“I can’t right now. Please. Here’s my address.” She quickly reeled it off. “How soon can you be here?”
Cari was already grabbing her purse and double checking that her keys were in it. “I’m less than five minutes away. Are you safe? Should I call the police?”
“I’m fine. I just. Please hurry.” She ended the call.
Cari raced out of her office and back to the parking garage. She wondered what had changed Marjorie’s mind.
* * * * * * * * * *
Marjorie split the blinds on her window and peered out to the street below. The runner from Stephen’s track team was still sitting at the bus stop bench across the street. Marjorie had started to leave to go to the library to study when she noticed Emma getting out of her car. Emma hadn’t seen Marjorie come outside, so she ducked back into her building and climbed the stairs back to her apartment. The bus had pulled up soon after, but Emma didn’t get on it. She had her cell phone out and was looking at Marjorie’s apartment building.
Tiff had stopped home earlier, all excited because she had a date. Marjorie hadn’t recognized the name and was concerned that Tiff had only just met the guy. Maybe he wasn’t trustworthy. Tiff assured her that he was a perfect gentleman and that she’d be fine. He was picking her up for dinner and would drop her off at the ice cream parlor afterward. Marjorie knew that Tiff was very self-conscious. Her friend often sold herself short because she wasn’t petite or slim. It was good to see her feeling so excited about a date. All of this had been running through her head as she’d stepped outside earlier. If the sunlight hadn’t glinted off of Emma’s car, she might not have seen her pull up.
She wondered when the newspaper woman would arrive. It had already been three and a half minutes since she’d called. Marjorie peeked through the blinds again just as a tan Toyota sedan pulled up in front of her building. She grabbed her purse and her apartment keys. She was wearing a grey hoodie and pulled the hood up over her head, hoping to disguise herself somewhat. Locking the door behind her, she quickly walked over to the car. She bent down to double-check that it was Cari Turnlyle and recognized her immediately from the track meet. She pulled open the passenger door and slid into the seat.
“Just drive somewhere. Anywhere.” She told Cari. The woman nodded and put the car in gear. They pulled away from the curb. It was all Marjorie could do to not look back at Emma to see if she’d noticed.
* * * * * * * * * *
Emma pulled up her phone and took a picture of the car Marjorie had just gotten into. It had a decal on the back window that looked like some sort of parking sticker. She enlarged the image to get a better look at the decal. Brenington Beagle. The newspaper woman! Emma vaguely remembered seeing a similar vehicle at the track on Saturday. The woman had just asked for Marjorie’s phone number, but surely, she had talked to her already. Why would she be picking her up now? She texted Andrew that Marjorie had left with a reporter. He had somehow gotten a date with Marjorie’s roommate and was at dinner with her now. Like a bunch of boomers catching the early bird. She rolled her eyes. She texted Andrew again.
Find out how often M is talking to this reporter and why.
She was already walking to her car so that she could follow Marjorie and the reporter. Her car was on the opposite side of the street, so she needed to flip a U to get behind them. Looking up the street, she saw the tan sedan make a right turn towards the campus. She started the car and put it in gear while tugging on her seatbelt. Soon she was making the same right turn, but when she drove down the street towards campus, she didn’t see any sign of the car Marjorie had gotten into. She clenched her fist in frustration. It was up to Andrew to get them information now.
* * * * * * * * * *
Genevieve’s desk phone rang again. It was Chris from CSU. She hoped that he’d gotten a hit on one of the phones they were keeping tabs on.
“Chris, tell me some good news.”
“Good news, bad news again. I got a ping from Niles’ phone, but it didn’t last long. He turned it off after just a few minutes. I can’t guarantee that he’s still where he was.”
“Better than nothing, Chris. Where was he? He could still be there.” She signaled to Alex that they needed to be on the move.
“He was over by an apartment building near the university. It’s not on-campus housing, but it’s real close. Let me give you the address.” He rattled off the address.
“Thanks, Chris. How long is your shift today? Is anyone coming in for a night shift?”
“I finish at seven tonight. I’m not sure. The chief’s been trying to reduce hours lately. Budget cuts and all. I could show you how to run the application if you need to do it after I leave. Let me give you my cell phone number, so I can get in touch with you while you’re away from the station.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Keep me posted.” She quickly saved his number and then looked over at Alex.
“Where are we going?”
“Back over by the campus. Andrew Niles’ phone placed him near an apartment building. He might still be there. Nothing on Hartfeld’s phone yet.”
“All right. Let’s go see if we can find that kid.” He tossed her the keys.
“Oh, you’re gonna let me drive, huh?”
“I’ve noticed that you have a certain skill set that can be opportune for college campuses. Don’t let it go to your head.”
They hurried out to the car. Just as she was pulling away from the station, her cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. After seeing that it was Chris, she handed her phone to Alex, indicating that he should answer. Alex put it on speaker.
“What’s up, Chris?”
“Hartfeld just turned his phone on. Looks like he’s back at home, based on the address you gave me.”
“Okay, great. We know where that is. We’ll give him a call after we try to catch up with Niles. Thanks, Chris.” Genevieve signaled to Alex to end the call.
“Why don’t I just give him a ring again right now?” Alex offered.
“Go for it. Maybe we can catch him at home. We won’t be far from there once we’re at this other address.”
Alex took out his own phone and dialed Hartfeld again. It rang several times, but the scientist eventually answered the call.
“Detective Runimoss, I presume?” Hartfeld asked.
“It’s actually both of us, sir. Did you get my calls from earlier today?”
“Oh, yeah. I did. I forgot to return them. I was right in the middle of something and it just slipped my mind. How can I help you?”
“We had a few follow up questions that we’d like to ask you.”
“Ask away, Detective.”
“Actually, sir, we’d prefer to ask our questions in person. We can come to you or you can meet us at the station. Either way works.” Alex offered.
“That sounds like an interrogation almost. I’m actually just on my way out. I’m meeting someone in a bit. Why don’t you come by my office on campus tomorrow morning? I have a lecture at nine, but I’m free at ten for a few hours.”
Alex looked at Genevieve, who nodded in agreement. “That sounds great. We’ll be at your campus office tomorrow at ten a.m.”
Hartfeld gave them the address of his office before ending the call. Alex put his phone away as Genevieve pulled up to the curb outside an apartment building. There were no other vehicles along the street on either side.
“Looks like we missed him. There’s no telling where he went from here. Call Chris real quick and see if there is a car registered to Andrew Niles. We can put out a BOLO for it.”
Genevieve grabbed her phone from the console where Alex had left it and pulled up Chris’ number again. “Hey, Chris—what kind of car does the Niles kid drive? We were going to look around the area and see if he’s nearby. If that fails, it’s time to put out a BOLO for him.”
“Let’s see. I’m checking the DMV records. Do you know if he’s a resident here or did he come from another state?”
Genevieve sighed. “I have no idea, Chris. Maybe we’ll get lucky and there will only be one Andrew Niles in the country.”
“I’m running the search. If we get a lot of results, I can easily check out his background from the school website. They list the hometowns of all the athletes.” Genevieve could hear him tapping on the desk while his computer ran the search. “We also know his approximate age, so we can narrow it down that way too. Here we go. Seventeen names, but only one that’s college-aged. He has a 2012 blue Chevy Impala registered in his name. I’ll text you the license plate.”
“Awesome. Blue should be easy to spot. Oh, by the way, you can cancel the screen on Hartfeld. We got him to answer his phone and set up a meeting for tomorrow.”
“Roger that. I’ll let you know if this other one pops up again.” He ended the call.
“Blue Chevy Impala, Alex. Which way should I drive?” She asked as she put the car in gear again.
“Let’s drive towards campus. Maybe he had a workout or team meeting. I requested a BOLO for the vehicle and attached my number to it. I just asked to be alerted; I didn’t request that they pull him over or anything.”
“Okay, good. He’s still just a person of interest, though he’s rapidly becoming a suspect in my mind.”
“It is odd that he scheduled a meeting and then canceled it around the same time our vic was killed. He didn’t mention that when I interviewed him either, which means he’s hiding something.”
Genevieve drove towards campus looking for any blue sedans along the way. Every vehicle she saw was either white, tan, or grey. They quickly reached the center of the university. She turned towards the gym.
“Where do we go if we don’t see him on campus?”
“I guess we head back to the station again. We can go over what we want to ask Hartfeld and how we want to conduct the interview.”
As they were passing the gymnasium, Genevieve happened to notice a familiar tan sedan parked along the curb. Just past the gym was the university’s Commons or green space. She could just barely see it from the road. Looking past the car, she saw Cari sitting with a young woman on one of the park benches. What are you up to, Cari Turnlyle?
“Gen! Watch where you’re going.” Alex’s outburst snapped her eyes back to the street. She had drifted into the middle and another car was approaching from the opposite direction.
“Sorry, I thought I saw something across the way.” She steered the car back over to the right. “False alarm.”
“Let’s head back to the station then. Unless Niles turns his phone back on, we don’t have a lot left to do today.”
* * * * * * * * * *
Hartfeld unlocked his office and turned on the light. He needed to feed his hamsters and go over his notes for his lecture the next day. He was also supposed to meet one of his biochemistry students who had some questions about last week’s lectures. Hartfeld looked at his watch. The student wasn’t supposed to arrive for another fifteen minutes, so he had time to feed the hamsters first. He had turned his cell phone off earlier after getting another string of texts from the unknown number. The person had gotten increasingly more menacing in their messages. Hartfeld didn’t know what the person was after exactly. He didn’t even know who it was. He was just a biochemistry professor. He had never been threatened like this in his life. He pulled out his phone to read through the texts again.
The only way out is to work together.
Pick a meeting place and we can settle this. No one else has to know.
You’re running out of time. The police are on to you. Give me what I want, or you’ll regret it.
Listen, you piece of shit. I’m done playing nice. I will find you and I will get what I want.
Hartfeld shivered as he read the last one again. Who did this guy think he was? He was sure it was a man. He was also sure that it was not a college student. The person texted in complete sentences with punctuation. No one under twenty-five years old did that, but maybe it was a student trying to look like an adult. He thought about calling the police and telling them about the person harassing him. What could the police do, though? They would want to know what led the person to threaten him and he didn’t know how to answer that question either. He didn’t even know who it was. They’d probably just tell him that he was a paranoid, old man. They were just text messages after all.
He pulled out his biochemistry notebook and flipped through the lecture slides he had printed out years ago. This was an entry level class, so the information was basic and hadn’t changed in ages. After refreshing his memory on the lecture, he closed the notebook and grabbed his keys again. He kept the hamster food in the same room, but he kept the powder locked in one of the cabinets. He locked his office and headed down the hallway to his lab.
Inside the hamsters’ room, he went through the cages systematically to put fresh water in each bottle. It was the day that the selected hamsters got their nutritional supplement, so he unlocked the cabinet to get it out. As he was closing the door, he thought he heard the elevator ding down the hallway. Maybe the student had arrived early, but students shouldn’t have access to the building on the weekends. Setting the container on the counter, he stuck his head out into the hallway to see who was there. He rarely saw anyone else on the weekend and especially not this late on a Sunday. Hartfeld looked up and down the hall but didn’t see anyone. Frowning, he turned back to the hamsters and got to work measuring out the powder.
* * * * * * * * * *
Andrew hadn’t texted Emma back, so she decided to reach out to the whole group. It was really troubling to see Marjorie getting into the reporter’s car. Emma thought back to her brief encounter with the newswoman. She had felt a little guilty about giving her Marjorie’s number but hadn’t realized the broader ramifications at the time. If Marjorie knew about the powder, would she tell the newswoman?
Hey everyone. Might have a problem. The GF just left with a newswoman.
She waited for someone to respond. If Marjorie told the newswoman about the powder, the program was over. They couldn’t let that happen.
How did she get hooked up with a newswoman (Wiley)
If she tells the newspaper, we r screwed (Derek)
Has anyone talked 2 Whitham (Jess)
WTH is Andrew (Alan)
Emma didn’t know what to do. She had lost track of the car and Marjorie. The texts kept pouring in. Everyone was agitated and worried. They all relied on the program to stay above their competition. Andrew had better be getting some information from that roommate!
* * * * * * * * * *
Back at the station, Genevieve looked over her notes from their first interview with Hartfeld. He was an odd character, but wasn’t that the stereotype for scientists? Absent minded and all that? He seemed a bit eccentric even. She read the rest of her notes and an idea hit her.
“Alex, I know we mentioned that Hartfeld didn’t really give us an alibi, but you know what else he didn’t do?”
“What?”
“He didn’t ask how Delamont was killed. He used the word murdered first. We just said that he was found dead in his office.”
“True, but Delamont was in great shape and not old. It’s a reasonably logical jump to suspect that he was killed rather than he had a health incident. It is a bit weird that he didn’t ask how he was killed. I’ll give you that.”
“Yes, and taken with his convenient memory lapse about getting a call from our vic the night before his death makes him extra suspicious in my book.”
“Equally suspicious as the Niles kid. I’ve never met a teenager who keeps their phone off this much.”
“I think he’s actually twenty years old, according to the DMV anyway. Not technically a teen.”
Alex made a face at her. “Whatever. You know what I mean. Is he on a date or what? Every college and high school kid I’ve been around is constantly buried neck-deep in their phone. This kid’s phone has been off for hours today. What gives?”
Just then, Alex’s desk phone rang. He grabbed the receiver. “This is Runimoss.” Pause. “Great, thank you.” He replaced the receiver. “That was dispatch. They received a report of a blue Chevy Impala at a restaurant in Brenington, that Tex-Mex place.”
“The one on campus?”
“No, the other one. Off campus. Should we go try to pick him up or wait for the morning?” He checked his watch. “It’s already five o’clock. We weren’t even supposed to work today. The LT is never going to approve all of this OT.”
“I don’t think he’s a flight risk or anything, Alex. You said that he seemed pretty committed to the baseball team, right? It sounds like he must be on a date. We don’t know that he’s actually done anything wrong. I would hate to march him out of a restaurant just because he deleted a meeting request. Still, are we being irresponsible by not questioning him today?”
“You’re right. We don’t want to get into a position where we’ve brought undue suspicion on this kid. I think we have to call it a night. Maybe he’ll turn his phone on tomorrow and we can pick him up for a second interview then.”