“Okay. That’s true.” Candace looked at Evan. “Please keep connecting the dots for me.”
Evan said, “My dad was still obsessed with his research idea, whatever it was. Said he could make it without the college lab.”
“That scared you, didn’t it?” I said. “You knew he wasn’t well enough for real research without his medication.”
“Definitely, and the next thing I know, he’d disappeared. A mentally ill man with an obsession fell off the face of the earth. And Mom and Brandt couldn’t have cared less.” He sighed. “That’s why he came here. To continue his research without Big Brother watching.”
“That much I get,” Candace said. “But there’s something else that you didn’t talk about at the station. You’ve had your own problems, right?”
“Brandt said you’d know all about it,” Evan said. He’d lifted his chin, and the hostility was back. “But what exactly do you know?”
Candace leaned toward him, her arms folded on her knees. She said, “I know you got arrested and kicked out of school, but I don’t know the details. Your father gets in trouble, then you. That’s what I’m seeing—a pattern.”
Evan rested his head back against the sofa, eyes to the ceiling. “We’re both criminals, huh? That’s what you see?”
“She’s got to explore the possibility, Evan,” I said. “If you’re telling us what you believe led up to your father’s death, you should tell it all,” I said.
“Like she said, I don’t see how it’s connected to his murder,” Evan said tersely.
He was shutting down. I had to get him back. I wanted to see that vulnerable, caring young man again. “Maybe it’s not connected, but you want the killer caught. That means you have to trust Candace to figure it out.”
“She thinks the bad boy of the family did it. I can see it in her eyes,” Evan said.
“Then you’re not reading these eyes too good, Evan,” Candace said. “I’m a police officer. A victim’s advocate. Your dad was a victim, and it sounds to me like you are, too. But if you’re not straight with me, I can’t help.”
He stared at her, his defiance slowly fading. “Okay. Here’s the deal. When my dad disappeared, I went a little nuts. Even thought I might be bipolar, too. I started drinking to kill the fear, made friends with a bunch of kids. They probably thought I fit right in, but they were frickin’ weird. And just so you know, they found me; I didn’t find them.”
“I don’t understand,” Candace said.
“Here’s how it happened. I got caught by a campus cop one night passed out in front of my dorm. He woke me up, filled me with coffee. He seemed like a nice guy, said he wanted to help me out. He didn’t arrest me, just told me I needed to get my act together. The next day he introduced me to this girl Rosemary—said she was a great girl who had this rep for helping people out. Helping kids like me who didn’t have any social skills and couldn’t make friends.”
“And of course Rosemary had plenty of friends?” Candace said.
“Yeah. Lots,” he said. “It was all their idea, the thing with the truck. But they ended up with a reprimand. I got arrested and thrown out of school.”
“Tell me about the thing with the truck,” Candace said.
“They were protesters—or thought they were,” he said. “After my dad got canned, everyone started talking about the lab and the ferrets. They decided the ferrets needed to be freed. And I decided that since I’d been worried about those cats, why not the ferrets, too?”
“Tell me about the truck,” Candace repeated.
Evan’s eyes were downcast. “We chained ourselves to a big campus truck. We were carrying signs about freeing the ferrets. We planned to stay all night, but I got rowdy and the whole thing came to an end pretty fast.”
“You got arrested that night,” Candace said.
“Yeah. Just me; none of the others.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” I said.
His hands were clenched at his sides. “Yeah, it was. I was drunk and they weren’t.”
“So you went to the Denman city jail? And your mom had to bail you out?” Candace said.
Evan’s throat had red blotches that were spreading up to his face. “Douglas bailed me out. I don’t think Mom had the money, and since she’d taken a job at the college, I think she was super-embarrassed about what I’d done.”
Candace said, “So your new friends were some kind of animal rights activists?”
“Not really. They wanted to stand out. Be heard. But they weren’t hard-core, bomb- making idiots. They were just holier-than-thou idiots. They should’ve done a spot on Sesame Street about taking care of pets and it would have been more effective.”
“But you were the only one who got hauled off to jail,” I said.
“Yeah, a real bummer, and you know what the irony was? The guy who took me there was the same one who told me Rosemary could help me. Those campus cops are a bunch of doofuses.”
“This campus officer who helped you find these so-called friends took you to jail?” I said, incredulous. Not such a nice guy after all. And pretty suspicious. I wondered whether Candace was thinking the same thing.
“This was a public incident,” Evan said. “He didn’t have much choice.”
“Rosemary’s last name?” Candace said.
“Why do you want to know?” Evan said, looking cautious.
“Because I’m going to talk to her and find out exactly how unradical this girl is,” she said. “Did you ever get the sense she knew about your father, knew about the cats in the lab? That she set you up because of what your dad did?”
Evan sat straight up, and this made Syrah leap from his lap and scurry into the kitchen. “Rosemary? That’s crazy.”
“She could have been more of an activist than you realized. Maybe she discovered where your dad went after leaving Denman,” Candace said.
“She got close to me to find out about him? No way. She never even asked me questions about Dad,” Evan said.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” Candace said. “Lots of leads turn out to be dead ends, but we have to go down those roads, following the evidence.”
But though Rosemary might be a lead, I was still stuck thinking about that campus cop. He seemed way too involved, and this whole “Let me lead you to some friends” thing seemed pretty contrived to me, even though Evan obviously hadn’t thought so.
“Please don’t bother Rosemary. She’s just a weird girl who has nothing to do with anything.”
Candace stared at him. “Prove to me you want to help us.”
He hung his head. “Bartlett,” he said. “Rosemary Bartlett.”
“Now,” Candace said. “Besides Rosemary, were there any other new friends who—”
But the sound of the back door opening made her stop. I was hoping it was Kara, but Candace wasn’t taking any chances.
She stood and put a finger to her lips and reached into her waistband for her gun.
Twenty
Evan’s eyes grew wide when he saw Candace’s weapon. Meanwhile, my stomach tightened as it does every time she pulls that thing out.
But I already knew who was at the back door. I was sure Candace did, too, which was why I was so bothered about seeing that gun appear. It had to be Kara.
And it was.
But she wasn’t alone.
I was relieved to see that by the time she and Brandt VanKleet walked into the living room, Candace had already hidden the gun.
They were laughing, and then Kara turned to me and said, “Hi, Jillian. You know Brandt? He and I have—”
“What the hell are you doing here, Evan?” Brandt said. “Have you lost your mind just like Dad?”
“I could ask what you’re doing here, too, bro,” Evan said. “Hooking up with a new one?” He glanced back and forth between Kara and Brandt.
All of this afternoon’s derision seemed to have returned full force. No brotherly love lost here, I thought.
Though I didn’t want to disturb Merlot
, who was alert but apparently wanting to stay close to me, I hoped to turn down the hate meter, reduce that tension that seemed to envelop the room. I stood and said, “I’m glad you’re back, Kara. Can I get anyone something to drink?” I looked at Evan. “Bet you could use a Coke.”
“Yeah, that would be good.” He set his jaw and looked toward the picture windows.
“Nothing for me,” Brandt said.
“Thanks but no thanks,” Kara said, settling next to a purring Merlot.
“Tea for me,” Candace said.
Unfortunately, the seating was limited, and with Kara now in her father’s chair, Brandt could only sit on the sofa next to his brother. He took a seat as far from Evan as he could get.
I went to the kitchen thinking that I didn’t want to be a family therapist, but maybe I should take a course or two.
I heard Candace say, “Where have you two spent the day?”
Good question, I thought. Wherever Kara could best pump Brandt for information was my guess.
“We drove all over,” Kara said. “Stopped a couple times to eat. I wanted to get to know Mercy. We found the property Brandt’s father bought. Of course that farm and the house next door still have all that crime-scene tape to keep people away.”
“And did you?” Candace said.
“Did we what?” Brandt said.
He sounded hostile enough to upset even the unflappable Dame Wiggins, I thought, as I retrieved a Coke from the fridge door. No wonder his brother can’t stand him.
“Did you stay away from the crime scene?” Candace said, enunciating each word.
“We took pictures of both houses. Brandt tells me that’s not intrusive or against the law,” Kara said.
Brandt said, “Those run-down farms are a sign of the times, and the crime-scene tape just made it all the more interesting.”
I poured myself and Candace glasses of tea, wondering exactly how much information Kara had shared with Brandt. Had she told him she planned to write a book? Brandt didn’t seem like the type who’d enjoy publicity, especially a story about his mentally ill father’s murder. I brought the drinks into the living room and gave Evan and Candace theirs. I sat on the floor near Candace, and Syrah immediately climbed into my lap.
Brandt turned to me and said, “Kara tells me you alerted the police to go to my father’s property. Seems he had accumulated a large number of cats.”
I glanced up at Candace, not sure what to say. Kara must have told him that much. Did she also tell him I now needed protection?
Candace didn’t look at Brandt. Kara had her entire attention. “You discussed parts of this case with one of the victim’s relatives?”
“Everyone in Mercy is discussing these crimes,” Kara said. “We’ve been doing our homework concerning Mercy. What about you?”
Oh boy. Catfight coming, and not between the four-legged variety who lived here. Kara had no idea what button she’d just pushed.
Candace’s fair skin reddened. “My job is none of your business. And if I found out you disturbed even an inch of crime-scene tape, you’re in for trouble.”
Brandt pointed at me. “What about her, Deputy Carson? She’s the animal lover. Did you consider the possibility that she took my father’s treatment of those cats very seriously and decided to release them? And what about her contact with the exterminator who ended up dead?”
I think my jaw dropped six inches. But before I could sputter a response, Evan was on his feet.
He pulled Brandt up by his shirt front so they were eye to eye. “Do they teach Asshole 101 in law school?” He then shoved Brandt back down onto the sofa.
I realized I’d been holding my breath, but I took a gulp of air when I saw that Syrah had decided he’d had enough of humans acting wacko in his house. But he went after Brandt, not Evan, leaping onto the arm of the sofa and hissing his displeasure.
I thought Brandt might tuck his legs up under him and cower—he looked that scared of a little old cat.
“Get your damn cat away from me,” he nearly screamed.
Candace hadn’t moved, and I swore Kara was holding back a smile. Brandt was definitely showing his less-than-tough side. He was no alley cat, that’s for sure.
“I have no control over Syrah, Brandt. Sorry,” I said.
But Syrah didn’t need coaxing to back off. Done with his intimidation, he jumped down and walked slowly away with one backward hiss for good measure.
Evan still hadn’t sat back down, and the hands at his sides were balled into fists.
Candace said, “Evan, Jillian doesn’t want her house used for WrestleMania. Could you sit down?”
“No. I’m out of here.” He turned and marched toward the foyer. Thank goodness he didn’t slam the door when he left.
“Did you block him in?” I asked Kara.
“I did,” Kara said. “Come on, Brandt. Let’s settle this outside, and then I’ll take you back to the motel. I don’t think riding with Evan is a great idea.”
“I’ll walk you out and make sure this problem is handled peacefully.” Candace got up quickly and went ahead of them so they could see the gun in her waistband.
I was certain a gun wouldn’t be necessary, but it sure did speak loud and clear tucked in a cop’s jeans. I breathed a sigh of relief after they went outside. Two cats immediately arrived to comfort me. Only two. Gosh, I missed my cuddliest kitty of all, Chablis. But she apparently felt the need to care for the guests who didn’t cause a ruckus, the ones downstairs.
Kara and Candace came back inside a minute later.
“I thought you were taking Brandt back to the motel,” I said.
“Evan cooled down and they took off together,” Candace said. “I’m betting this kind of thing happens all the time between them.”
I’d gotten up off the floor and was sitting on the sofa. Merlot was settling next to me, and Syrah had taken his spot on the couch back near my head.
“Still, I hope they don’t kill each other once they get back to the motel,” Kara said, heading past me for the fridge.
Candace stared after her. “Not great word choices.”
“Sorry,” Kara called. “People are dead. I know. But I have got to tell you guys what I found out today.” She came back into the living room, a Red Bull in hand.
I looked at the can.
“What?” she said. “You want one?”
“Not this late,” I said. “I like my sleep.”
Candace removed her gun, set it on the end table and sat down again.
Kara reclaimed her father’s chair. “I have info on your case. Be nice and I’ll share.”
Candace closed her eyes, seemed to be gathering herself. If she had to play sweet to get information, I knew she’d find her inner candy cane.
“What did you find out?” I said, hoping to give Candace a little more time to begin liking Kara, if only for tonight.
“Evan’s got a record, for one thing,” she said.
“We know,” Candace said, her tone even. “Despite how the police station looks, we do have computers and access to databases.”
“I figured as much,” Kara said. “But did you know that the professor hadn’t paid his wife any of his court-ordered support since they got divorced?”
“Have to admit, I didn’t know that,” Candace said. “How’s that relevant?”
Kara leaned back and swigged her Red Bull before answering. “No money for support, but money to buy property. That didn’t sit well with Sarah VanKleet.”
Candace leaned forward. Now Kara had her attention. “She was angry?”
“According to Brandt, furious is more like it,” Kara said. “Apparently the professor had bipolar illness and she’d taken care of him for years. She finally left, he went off his meds and then turned that into an excuse for forgetting to pay support. Or at least that’s what he told the judge.”
“She took him to court?” I said.
“Yes,” Kara answered. “And according to Brandt—the biggest mama
’s boy I’ve ever met—he had to be there with his mother. He said the judge bought the professor’s pitiful act. Gave him time to get back on his medication and find a job before paying the back support.”
“Even though the professor had this property as an asset?” Candace said.
Kara nodded. “Brandt said his father could act crazy anytime he wanted to. And what better time than when he was in front of a judge and about to lose his precious farm?”
“So Sarah VanKleet had more serious money problems than the chief and I realized,” Candace said.
“Yes. Even before the professor was fired—for doing illegal research,” Kara said. “Brandt was ashamed of that.”
I was impressed. Kara really had learned her trade as a journalist, and she’d done a great job getting information from Brandt. “Good work, Kara,” I said.
“I thought it would be tricky,” Kara said. “I couldn’t misrepresent myself to Brandt if I wanted to use what he said in my book, but he loves to talk, so I never said anything about my plans.”
“Guess he talked up a storm because you’re not the police. He didn’t tell me anything when I interviewed him. However, we did know about his father getting fired,” Candace said. “But you’re helping me understand the victim better, and that’s the key to solving most whodunits.”
Kara smiled. Not a smug smile, either. She seemed genuinely pleased to be helping. “Sarah VanKleet had to get a job, so she went to work as a secretary in the registrar’s office at the college. She’s less stressed now, despite the court ruling, according to Brandt. Seems she and Lieber are living together.”
“And from what we found out, Lieber was friends with the VanKleets long before the divorce,” Candace said, half to herself. “Sarah and Lieber becoming a couple apparently upset the professor big time, so—” She stopped herself.
“Go on,” Kara said. “I didn’t know about this part.”
Neither did I. Candace must have learned this from Lieber earlier today.
Candace’s face remained impassive, but I was sure she was mentally kicking herself for saying too much. “That’s all. The professor was upset with his situation.”
The Cat, The Professor and the Poison Page 18
