****
Jessie was ready early on Thursday. Plans had changed for the visit. Agent Kaufman was driving them to a secured place to meet with Darsha Sarin. The questions she wanted to ask were on the list tucked in her purse. Jessie was excited to jump into the investigation. She knew as they peeled away more layers, the why would begin to emerge.
Another agent showed them into a small room in a nondescript warehouse style building several miles from the college town. Matt held Jessie’s chair out for her. “Are you nervous?”
“Not really. I’m eager to meet with her and have a chance to talk. She may have a memory or a small clue that will shed light on what happened to Amir and the others.”
Matt took out his notepad. “Do you have your list?” He straightened in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table.
“Yes.” She smiled. He was nervous. Reba’s words alone were enough to make anyone nervous. Agent Kaufman came into the room with Darsha and her aunt. Aisha held tightly to her niece’s arm. Darsha was pale and fragile looking. The difference from her appearance only a few days ago was striking. Jessie understood why Aisha was worried. “It’s nice to see you again.” Jessie stood to greet her.
“My aunt thought it would be good for me to talk to you.” She eyed Matt warily. “I need to talk to someone. I can’t sleep; my mind will not shut down.” Tears filled her eyes.
“Sit, please.” Jessie pointed at the chair across from her. “Can I get you anything? A glass of water perhaps?” She had brought two bottles of water with her.
Darsha shook her head. “I don’t want anything.”
“I’ll leave this bottle right here. You might need to have a sip at some point.” Jessie placed it within her reach.
“Thank you.” Darsha looked at her aunt who smiled encouragingly at her.
“You remember Chief Parker,” Jessie said as Matt sat down beside her. “He’s my friend, and he’s working hard to solve this case. He’ll find the ones who did this to your friends.”
“Are you sure?” Darsha dabbed at her eyes with the tissue. “I can’t stop thinking these evil men will hurt others if they aren’t caught.”
“Matt will do everything he can, along with Agent Kaufman, whom you’ve also met. I need you to help them.”
“What can I do?” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m overwhelmed and can’t even help myself.”
“Of course you’re in shock, but it will be good for you to talk about your friends. They were important in your life and maybe one small detail you remember will help solve this case,” Jessie said, encouraging her. “You will not only help your friends but also help yourself by talking about them. I know how hard it is to let yourself feel again. Grief is powerful, but one day you will wake up, and it won’t hurt as much. It will still be there off and on, but you’ll find you can also laugh and smile again. Amir would want you to.”
“Yes, I know he would want me to be happy, but I don’t want to forget about him. I can’t do happy yet. I still can’t believe he’s gone.” She looked down.
“You can work to keep his story alive. Tell me about Amir and how you met.”
Darsha warmed to the subject and began to open up. Every now and then, she smiled at a memory she shared. “We were both pre-med students with a tough schedule. We still managed to find time to hang out together. The five of us were in a study group and socialized whenever we could fit it in. Shara was pre-med, too, but Carlos and Ryan were studying sports medicine.”
“Is that why you all were a part of the Foreign Students’ Club?”
“Yes, it was an important part of campus life. Amir, being from Kuwait, knew what it was to have people not trust him. Every time there was a terrorist attack, someone would blame him for it as if he had committed the act himself.”
“People can be cruel sometimes.” Jessie opened her water and took a sip.
“This was more than cruel.” She met Jessie’s eyes. “It was hate-filled. At least with the club, we were able to band together and help each other through the hard times. Don’t get me wrong, there were a lot of nice, welcoming kids, too.” Darsha paused. “My relationship with Amir caused problems for some. Also, the fact that he was friends with Shara, a Jewish girl, didn’t sit well with others.”
“It’s hard to get past people’s bigoted ideas.”
“They didn’t just come from other students, but people in our own countries as well. We hoped by talking about it, we could foster better relationships.”
“Did it work?”
“Somewhat, but lately, after the last couple of attacks, rhetoric became more heated from inside the school and also from off campus. It got so we didn’t want to leave the campus. We were never sure who would say something. Carlos was born in this country, but his parents emigrated from Mexico. He was also gay, which made it all the harder for him. He was teaching his parents to speak English. Carlos was a gentle soul and one of kindest people I know.” Darsha gulped to hold back a sob.
“Who else is involved in the club?” Jessie asked.
“Foreign students and American kids as well. There are several students from Middle Eastern countries and a few from Africa. Some are here on student visas, and some immigrated and are now citizens.”
“Were you ever targeted for your beliefs?”
“We all were. I’m Hindu, Shara was Jewish, and Amir was Muslim. It’s strange I know, but we got along fine.”
“I admire the fact that you worked so hard to understand your differences but didn’t hold them against each other.” Jessie wrote in her notebook.
“I think most people want to live in peace.” Darsha opened the bottle and sipped the water. “A few in our group have escaped from war and poverty in their own countries and came here looking for a better life. My parents wanted a better life for my siblings and me. Amir’s family is in the U.S. in service to their country. Shara was born in Israel. Her father moved back to the States after her mother died of cancer. Shara was funny and smart. She made it her life’s goal to save others in her mother’s memory. There are many stories like this among our group. Most of the club members who are foreigners want an education so they can return home and make a difference in their own countries.”
“I’m sure that’s true, but fear seems to make us all look at each other differently, doesn’t it? We tend to point our finger at someone who is different from us as being bad.” Jessie wondered how many times she had looked down on a person’s difference.
Darsha smiled at her. “You Americans are hard to understand for those of us who are new to your land. You have so much and are free to choose, but many don’t take advantage of what’s before them.”
“You’re right.” Jessie shook her head, seeing it through Darsha’s eyes for the first time.
“It’s the same everywhere. Because of the wealth of your country, I think foreign students are often surprised when they find unhappy and poor people live here, too.”
“I can understand why.” Jessie wrote a few notes. She continued to ask questions. The last question was the most important on her list. “Can you remember if Amir seemed troubled by anything lately?”
“A few days before they disappeared, Amir told us we needed to get together. He had received an anonymous letter that he wanted us all to read. We were supposed to meet at the coffee shop where we often met.” Darsha took a deep breath. “I was late to the meeting, and so I have no idea what happened, only what I’ve learned from the police.” She gulped. “Now they’re dead, and I’m the only one living. I should have been with them.” Darsha eyes filled with tears.
“I wonder what was in the letter. Did Amir tell you anything?
“We talked right after he got it and read me a small section. It was a hate-filled rant against him, his father, and the rest of our group.”
“Had any of you ever received a note before?”
“Yes, of course, but this one was different.” Darsha dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“In what way?”
“It threatened each of us by name and our families. That’s why Amir wanted us all to read it. He thought we should go to the police, but he wanted it to be all of our decisions.” Darsha dried her tears. “It was as if the person writing the letter knew us all or was stalking us. I should have been with them.”
“Don’t let yourself feel guilty because you survived. You were late, but not on purpose. Your friends need you alive, if for no other reason than to bring their murderers to justice. I know your family is happy to have you here to enjoy.” Jessie patted Darsha’s hand.
“It must have concerned him if he considered going to the police.” Matt said.
“He was worried, and Amir didn’t scare easily.”
“Did you ever see any strangers hanging around your group?” Matt clicked his pen.
“Not that I can remember, but I’ll think about it.” Darsha took a sip of water.
“Could someone be following you?” Jessie took a quick look at her list of questions.
“I don’t know.” Darsha’s voice was barely audible. “It’s possible.”
“Think hard for a moment. Did you see or hear anything odd?” Matt leaned forward in his chair. “This is important. You may hold an important key to breaking the case.”
“I’m afraid.” She looked away from Matt. “One day I met Amir at the coffee shop. He was talking to someone on the phone. The conversation was a heated one.”
“Did he tell you what it was?”
“He told me it was better if I didn’t know.” Tears filled her eyes. “He said they were playing with fire and someone could get killed. His exact words were, ‘They are playing a dangerous game.’”
“I wonder who he was talking to.” Jessie twisted a strand of hair with her fingers.
“Is there anything else you can think of?” Matt asked her.
She sighed. “I did see a man pushing Amir a few days before he went missing. When I asked him about it, he said it was a friend of his father. He didn’t act like a friend. Amir was quiet on our date later that night. He never told me what they had talked about, but it wasn’t friendly. It’s all so confusing.”
“There is something else, isn’t there?” Jessie touched her hand.
“Yes.” Darsha wiped the tears running down her cheeks. “His parents were upset that he was dating me. I am Hindu, and he was Muslim. They didn’t like me. You can’t help where you’re born or whom you fall in love with, Amir told them, but they were not happy with him. Or with me for that matter. They blamed me for trying to seduce their son. It wasn’t like that, though.” She began to sob. “We were good friends, and we wanted to marry someday after we had enough money. We both tried to live by our parents’ strict standards because we loved our families.” She shivered. “Maybe if I had stopped seeing Amir and refused to date him again, he would still be alive.”
“I doubt it, Darsha. You can’t let your mind go there.” Jessie handed her the box of tissues. “Do you think his family would hurt him?” Jessie asked her.
“No, but all religions have an extreme element that might.” Darsha leaned her head on her arms.
“You’re right. That’s another angle to consider.” Matt scribbled a few notes on his pad.
Jessie patted her hand. “Darsha, go home, sweetie. Eat something and begin to live again. You can go to school with an escort. Keep the group alive in your friends’ names. If you see anything or anyone that is out of place, tell the woman the FBI has assigned to protect you while you’re at school. She will look more like a school friend, a new girl on campus, and you’ll be showing her around.”
“I know you’re right, Jessie, but I miss him so much it hurts.”
“I know it does. I wish I could make it go away, but it will get better with time. I know.” Jessie leaned closer to her.
“Keep your eyes open, and you could be the one to solve the murder of your friends,” Matt told her. “I think we’re done here for now. If you think of anything else, call Jessie or me.” He handed her his business card.
“I will. Jessie, can I call you? Sometimes I miss my friends so much I ache.” Darsha stood.
“Anytime you want.” Jessie hugged her. She watched her leave with her aunt.
Chapter 13
Matt gazed at Jessie. He could tell she was lost in thought. “What do you think?” Matt grabbed her hand.
“The pictures in Darsha’s head are jumbled. When she can think with less emotion, she may be able to put it together. As I see it,” Jessie said, “we have three possibilities. It could be a hate crime or a religious zealot. Maybe it has something to do with the heated conversation Darsha overheard. I guess we should throw families into the mix, too.” Jessie pursed her lips. “Well, that didn’t narrow the field much.”
“She gave us a good starting point. We need to question Amir’s family, interview the students, and check Amir’s phone records. I’ll get Jeremy to check on incoming calls to Amir’s phone. We need to know who called Amir in the days before he went missing.”
She snapped her fingers. “Good idea, why didn’t I think of the whole phone records idea? If you can find who the number belonged to, that would be great.”
“It’d be great, as long as they didn’t use a throwaway.” Matt frowned. “Still, we have to give it a shot. You never know when something will turn up.”
Matt texted Jeremy and gave him Amir’s phone number to check the records. He scrolled through his text. “Bingo.”
“What?” Jessie asked.
“Dave Lewis sent me the cause of death. The drug found in their blood acts to shut down the respiratory system and suffocates the person slowly. They were tortured and drugged.”
“No wonder there were no visible signs on their bodies like gunshot or stab wounds. One of our suspects has to have some medical knowledge.”
“One more piece of the puzzle to put in place.” Matt finished scribbling on his notepad. “Let’s go have lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.” Jessie smiled at him.
“You never know if you’re dealing with smart criminals or really dumb ones until you put it all together. I have no theory on this case yet, but I see a beginning.”
“You amaze me how you can put the little clues together and come up with an idea.” She opened her purse and stuck her pen in it.
“You’re pretty good yourself, sweetheart.”
Kaufman came up behind them. “There’s a problem on the campus. I just got a text. The students are demonstrating near the Admin building. One of our agents said you’re to go to the back of the building and up to the second floor to the student library. They have you set up to interview students there.”
“I wonder what they’re demonstrating about?” Jessie got in the car.
“Who knows?” Kaufman shrugged. “When it comes to students, there’s always some life-shattering cause.” He started the car.
****
After lunch, they arrived on campus. This was more than a demonstration. Two opposing groups marched in protest outside the administration building. If the yelling was an indicator, the protestors were reaching a flashpoint. The campus authorities had called in the city police for help. Police cars flew past them as they pulled over.
****
Matt and Jessie spent the afternoon talking to students who came into the library. Each time there was a break in the interviews, Jessie found herself headed over to the window to watch what was happening on the street below. The students’ angry voices wafted through the air, filling the library with their heated retorts all afternoon.
“This is what democracy looks like,” the large group of students shouted in unison as they thrust their protest signs in the air. Jessie could read a few from her vantage point. “Hate speech isn’t free speech.” “Liberty and justice for all.” We are a country of immigrants.”
On the other side was a small group dressed all in black with their faces partially covered by ski masks. They were shouting, “Fo
reigners go home,” as they held up posters with swastikas and the white power symbol on them. The crowd screamed back and forth at each other until tempers began to flare.
It was hard to pay attention to their interviewees. She watched from her safe perch behind the window as the police moved in to break up the protestors. It was starting to get out of hand. A fist flew, catching the jaw of a young woman and sending her sprawling to the ground with a thud. From where Jessie sat, she could see the girl’s head bounce off the pavement.
Jessie stuffed her notes into her purse as a petite girl with a bubbly personality and long blonde hair walked into the library. “Are you the one we’re supposed to talk to?” she asked Jessie.
“Yes, have a seat.” Jessie pointed at the empty chair across from her.
“My name is Misty Carlson,” she said with a lot of enthusiasm.
“Misty, I’m Jessie. How can we help you?” Jessie was sure she had to be a cheerleader. She smiled. The girl’s energy gave her away.
“I heard you were talking to students today, and I have something I need to tell you.” She opened up her notebook and took out a slip of paper. Misty pushed it over to Jessie. “I’ve been carrying this around with me for days. I’m glad I can give it to you.” She pushed a photo to Jessie.
“How did you come by it?” Jessie recognized the man and gasped. It was the man who had been watching the store! Matt sat down in the chair beside her.
“I came into the library several weeks ago, and I saw these men. I thought they looked out of place. I’d never seen any of them on campus before except for him.” She pointed at a scruffy looking young man in the photo. “He’s been among the demonstrators. I took a picture with my phone. When I heard about Amir’s kidnapping, I thought this might be important, and I made a copy just in case. Amir was studying at the time. When he left the library, they followed him at a distance. I watched.”
The Final Flashpoint Page 8
