A Killer Among Us

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A Killer Among Us Page 13

by Lynette Eason


  He looked up and the lost devastation that stared back at her made her want to weep.

  I’m going to get you, you creep. I will.

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  He nodded. “It’s not right.” An almost pleading look entered his eyes. “What’s this world coming to?” Tears swam and he blinked them back, but not before one trickled down a weathered cheek that needed a shave.

  “I’m so sorry, sir. We’re going to do everything we can to get this guy.” She paused when Noah walked up and offered his own condolences. Then she asked, “Can you think of anyone she might have made mad? Had an argument with? Any enemies?”

  “No.” The gray head waggled back and forth. “No. I mean she seemed a little more distracted than usual, was tense and uptight, but I just chalked it up to school nerves.”

  “But no threats or anything like that?”

  “No, not my Susan. Everyone loved her.”

  Noah blew out a sigh, then turned to Kit. “What do you say we talk to a few people around campus about Mrs. Chalmers.”

  “Like you said earlier, great minds think alike.”

  17

  “It feels weird being back here. I feel like I have a red bull’s-eye stamped on my back.” Kit shuddered and looked around.

  Noah’s gaze followed hers. “I know what you mean. Look at these buildings. They’re a sniper’s dream.”

  “I’m sure the architects took that into account when they designed them.”

  “Cute.” And she was cute. Too cute for his peace of mind. Not only was she cute, she was smart, savvy, and he liked her sense of humor. And that dimple . . .

  He sighed. Then nearly choked as he realized he was behaving like a lovesick schoolkid. He really needed to focus. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Okay, so where is his office?”

  “Who’s office?”

  “The good professor you called and asked if we could visit.”

  “She,” Kit said with a straight face.

  “Huh?”

  “Dr. Francine Bowden. She.”

  “Oh.”

  She paused. “So are all the doctors and truck drivers in your life of the male persuasion too?”

  Noah felt the heat start around the base of his neck and travel north. “Aw, knock it off. I’m not a chauvinist. It was just a slip of the tongue.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Quit it.” He gave a yank on her ponytail and she grinned at him. Noah groaned. “I’m serious. Now where’s her office?”

  “Over there. In the building to your left.”

  Noah made a left turn and opened the door to let Kit walk past him. They made their way to the elevator and he pressed the button. On the second floor, the doors slid open and the two stepped off.

  “Which way?” Kit asked.

  “Right.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The sign on the wall with the arrow that says ‘Dr. Bowden’ was my first clue,” Noah said, copying her earlier deadpan expression.

  It was Kit’s turn to flush. Noah laughed out loud and led the way.

  At the door Noah raised his knuckles and rapped.

  “Come in.”

  He turned the knob and they entered the neatest office he’d ever seen.

  Even Kit blinked.

  “Wow.”

  Francine Bowden laughed, immediately understanding their shock. “I know. Not exactly the office of the absentminded professor, is it?”

  “No. It’s . . . immaculate.” Kit glanced around.

  Noah did the same. “Impressive,” he said.

  The fortysomething lady shrugged. “I like organization. I want to be able to find anything I need when I need it.” She gestured to the two chairs in front of her desk. “Have a seat, detectives, and tell me what I can do to help.”

  Noah settled himself into the chair and clasped his hands between his knees.

  “What can you tell us about Susan Chalmers?”

  Grief flashed briefly. “Yes, I heard about her murder, of course. And the others too. Such a shame.”

  “What kind of student was she?”

  “A fabulous one, much to my surprise.”

  “Why surprise?”

  “Because when she first started taking classes, she had no confidence. She would often ask me if she was wasting her money, if she was too old, that kind of thing. I always did my best to encourage her, because she had so much potential.” The professor shook her head. “If she could have gone to school twenty years ago, she would have already made a name for herself in the law profession.”

  “Did she have any enemies?”

  A brow raised. “Susan? Goodness, no. She was one of the sweetest, most giving people I’ve ever met. She had a gift for writing and was most willing to share that with some of the other students who weren’t quite as gifted. She often edited papers or made suggestions how to make them better.”

  “So she didn’t seem distracted or anxious or anything that you would have deemed out of the ordinary?”

  Dr. Bowden shrugged. “No. I mean, it’s time for final exams. There’s plenty of anxiety going around. But nothing . . .” She frowned and tapped her lips with a finger. “Wait a minute. There was one thing that was a little odd, but I don’t know if it has anything to do with anything.”

  Noah leaned forward. Kit did too and he could smell the fresh fragrance of her shampoo. Doing his best to ignore the effect she had on his equilibrium, he raised a brow and encouraged, “You never know. What was it?”

  “It was about two weeks ago. We finish class pretty late, but I always offer to stay in my office until 10:00 so that if anyone needs anything I can answer questions, et cetera. That night after class, Susan stopped by my office to ask if we could talk. I told her sure.”

  “What did she want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know. We never got to that. She came in and sat down. I had just settled into my chair behind my desk when another student came to my door.” She pointed to it. “I always leave it open. I don’t care if you’re male or female, the door stays open. My policy.”

  “A smart one,” Noah approved.

  “Unfortunately, you can’t be too careful these days.”

  “I agree. So what happened?”

  Professor Bowden frowned and sighed. “Susan saw the student, excused herself, and got up and left. But it struck me that the expression on her face was one of sheer terror. She was scared of him.”

  Noah exchanged a look with Kit, who asked, “Who was the student?”

  “Gordon Childs.”

  “Where might we find this young man?” Noah queried.

  Professor Bowden laughed. “I haven’t got a clue. I don’t keep up with my students’ social or class schedules.”

  “Do you have any idea who he hangs around with? Names of friends?” Noah hoped she had at least one name to give them. It would cut down on the chase.

  She tapped her lips. “It’s Friday afternoon. You might try the student center. I believe Gordon likes a good game of pool. He often finds fresh blood there on the weekend.”

  Kit narrowed her eyes. “A hustler?”

  Dr. Bowden nodded. “From what I hear, more than one new kid on the block has lost the contents of his wallet to young Mr. Childs. But I’ll be honest, I like Gordon. I haven’t had any deep, meaningful conversations with him, but he seems like a good guy and he’s an excellent student. I’ve often wondered if the hustling reputation is overblown.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s how he pays his tuition. Who knows?”

  Noah stood. “All right, thanks so much for your time.”

  She sobered. “You’re quite welcome. I do hope you catch this person. It’s pretty nerve-wracking having your students picked off one by one.”

  Grimacing, Noah nodded. “Believe me, we’re doing everything we can.”

  She stood and they all shook hands. “Please let me know if you think of anything else,” Kit said as she headed for
the door.

  “Certainly.”

  Noah’s phone rang and he grabbed it as they reached the elevator.

  Back outside on the sidewalk, Kit listened to Noah wind up the conversation. She glanced over at him as he slid his cell back into its holder. “So no one came up with someone who’s recently been released from prison that would be out to get you?”

  “There’s one or two possibilities that the captain’s checking out, but I don’t think they’ll pan out. I know who he’s talking about, and while one of them has a history of violence, it was all domestic.”

  “Let me guess. You got the wife and kids into a safe place.”

  “Um . . . actually, it was the husband and kids. The wife was a raving lunatic. Who’s showing chauvinistic tendencies now?” he asked, tongue in cheek.

  Kit burst into laughter. Noah joined in, and Kit realized how bad she needed to laugh. It felt good. “Okay, okay, you got me.” Turning serious, she said, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Okay. I suppose we should have asked for directions to the Student Center.”

  “No need.” He held up a folded piece of paper.

  “What’s that?”

  “A handy little map I picked up in the lobby back there.”

  They started walking and her eyes scanned the building rooftops as she walked. Was their shooter still out there somewhere on campus? Did he know they were back? And would he try again at some point? Something told Kit they hadn’t heard the last of him.

  “Has your handy little map told you where we’re going yet?”

  “I think we take a right up there.”

  “No, we’re here.”

  He studied the map without looking up. “I don’t think so. According to this, we’re supposed to turn beside the Irons building.”

  “All right, if you say so, but I really think we’re here, Noah.”

  He lifted his nose from the map, saw the direction of her gaze, and followed it. “Huh. You think?”

  One shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug as she did her best to keep her chuckles under control. “I could be wrong,” she deadpanned.

  The building just ahead of them had a sign above the front door. He read it. “Student Center.”

  “Just a wild guess here,” she offered, “but I think we found it.”

  He tossed the map into the nearest garbage can. “You’re a riot a minute, Kenyon.”

  “I know. Just one of my many assets.”

  He broke down and grinned at her. “I can’t tell you how much I’m beginning to like your assets.”

  A snort escaped her and she couldn’t keep the laughter inside anymore. “Noah Lambert! I can’t believe you said that.”

  “What?” All innocence stared back at her. Then a flush started at the base of his neck and he shook his head. “Aw, Kit, I didn’t mean anything disrespectful by that comment.”

  “I didn’t take it that way.” She gave his arm a little push. “Now, let’s get in there.”

  His face still beet red, he stepped toward the building, and she covered another smile. She really liked him. She liked his smile and the way it spread crookedly across his face, deepening the lines around his eyes. She liked the way they could bounce teasing off each other like they’d been doing it for years. She liked the way she could make him—a cop who’d seen way more than the average person and hadn’t become hardened—blush. She liked just about everything about him except that stubborn streak he let out occasionally. And even that wasn’t too bad. Definitely kept things interesting.

  She cleared her throat. “What do you think about the whole miniature gavel thing? It’s obvious that the killer is leaving them. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I have my thoughts, but our FBI profiler is supposed to be working on that.”

  “Before we go in, share some of your thoughts, will you?”

  He paused as though gathering his thoughts. “I guess you could go with it several ways. One: he’s mocking the justice system. He kills them, then leaves the gavel to snub his nose at the law students he’s killing.”

  “Two?”

  “He somehow sees killing these people as a form of justice.”

  She thought for a moment. “That sounds more plausible for some reason.”

  Then she didn’t have time to think about it anymore as they walked into the Student Center. Chaos, chatter, and laughter greeted them. “Hey, did you get a picture of this guy?”

  He pulled out his iPhone and tapped the screen a few times. “Here. Straight from the law school directory.”

  She took a good look. “Got it. Where to?” she yelled over the noise.

  “Didn’t Professor Bowden mention something about pool?”

  “Yeah.” Her eyes traveled around the room. To her left there were several bar-style restaurant choices from McDonalds to Chinese. To the right, tables and booths covered an area equal to the square footage of her duplex. Straight ahead was the game room.

  Single file, they made their way back through the throng of students to the game area. There they dodged darts and the Wii antics of those playing a rousing game of tennis to arrive in a more open space.

  Three pool tables, four air hockey tables, and a corner reserved for the board games filled the back room. For a minute, they stood there taking it all in.

  “Hey, isn’t that the DA’s intern?”

  Noah looked in the direction she indicated. “Yeah, that’s Edward, all right.”

  “Looks right at home here, doesn’t he?”

  “I’ll say.” The young man leaned against a window, pool stick in his left hand, soda in his right. When he saw them coming, he straightened and set his drink on one of the side tables. “Detectives.” He reached out a hand and they took turns shaking it. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for someone,” Kit offered.

  “Who? Maybe I can help.”

  Noah showed Edward the picture on his phone. Edward nodded. “He’s here somewhere, I just saw him. He said something about being hungry and went to get a sub, I think.”

  “Thanks, Edward,” Kit said, then she paused and added, “Hey, I’m sorry for blasting Brian in front of you. That had to be a little embarrassing and I’m sorry for doing it.”

  Edward shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I agreed with you. He should have followed protocol and obeyed the orders you sent him.”

  Kit shifted. “Yeah, well, I just wanted to apologize.”

  “Well, thanks, but you didn’t have to.” He gave a small smile and lifted a hand to rub his lips as he offered her a shrug.

  “Right.” She turned and took a deep breath. Apologies didn’t come easy for her, but when she was wrong, she was wrong—and she was big enough to admit it.

  So when are you going to apologize to your mother, her conscience mocked her. I’m not wrong about that, she argued back.

  She looked at Noah. “Let’s go check the food lines again.”

  He turned and led the way.

  Back in the food court area, Kit drew in a deep breath and realized she was starving. The toast and peanut butter she’d scarfed down this morning was long gone.

  After they snagged Gordon for a couple of questions, she’d be putting in a request for a late lunch.

  “Hey.” Noah tapped her arm and goose bumps broke out. “Is that him?”

  Ignoring her crazy physical response to a man she wasn’t sure she should be attracted to, she looked around him.

  And there stood Gordon Childs second in line at the sub station. Together, they approached him.

  Kit didn’t know what it was, but some sixth sense must have tipped him off, because he looked up when they were about twenty feet from him.

  Puzzlement flared briefly in his eyes, then they widened as he took in the badges they’d decided to openly display on their belts.

  “He’s going to be a runner,” Kit said.

  “I think you’re right,” Noah said. “Hey, Gordon!”

  Gordon spu
n from the line and headed for the emergency exit.

  Kit bolted after him, yelling to Noah, “You go to the right!”

  The emergency door ruptured open and alarms spilled into the student center. Bodies pressed in on each other to see what was going on, but it was too late.

  Kit was hot on the kid’s heels, could hear his hurried steps rushing down the stairs. “Gordon, wait! We just want to talk to you!”

  18

  No answer.

  He either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. At the bottom of the steps, Kit heard the door bang open and gripped the rail to propel herself faster down after him.

  Reaching the door that had yet to swing shut, she threw herself through it in time to see Gordon round the corner of the building. Giving chase, she heard a yell and a curse.

  “Noah! You got him?”

  Flinging herself around the corner, she came to a screeching halt when she saw that Noah had the situation well under control.

  Placing her hands on her knees, ignoring the renewed throbbing in her injured shoulder, she bent double and huffed, “Good job.”

  Noah slapped the cuffs on the still struggling young man. He was thin and wiry, while Noah had the build of an agile, seasoned weight lifter. The poor college student was no match for him.

  Lifting Gordon to his feet, Noah turned him around to face them. “Why did you run?”

  “What do you want?” Fear flared his nostrils and his eyes darted back and forth between Noah and Kit.

  Kit stepped forward. “We just wanted to talk to you. Ask you a few questions.”

  “About?”

  “A woman named Susan Chalmers.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Oh.”

  Kit raised a brow and wondered what he thought they were there for.

  Gordon lifted his eyes and said, “I heard she was dead.”

  Noah nodded. “Yeah, and we heard you knew her pretty well.”

  Wariness flashed. “She and I talked some, yeah, but I mean we weren’t buddies or anything.”

  “What’d you talk about?”

  “Class mostly. Papers and just stuff like that.”

  Kit bit her lip against the pain from her shoulder, wondering how long before it would settle down this time. “Okay, I’ve got a couple of questions I need to ask you, and I’m not doing it without reading you your rights.” Over his protests she did.

 

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