Veritas

by Anne Laughlin

  “I want you to come in with me and listen and take notes. I’ll tell you if I need anything else. We’re probably going to search her room, so I’m bringing an evidence bag in with me.”

  Mandy Orton, Jennifer’s roommate, welcomed them into Hadley House. She was a tiny woman and Sally felt huge and old as she moved into the old-fashioned foyer. A stairway with a carved oak balustrade was to the right of the entrance, a living room to the left. After showing the officers into the living room, Mandy asked whether they’d found anything on Jennifer.

  “We’re hoping that you’ll be able to give us a little more information to go on, Mandy. As it is, we have contacted Jennifer’s aunt, and she doesn’t know where she is, nor does her friend from last year, Tricia. We’ve contacted almost all of Jennifer’s professors, and they don’t know where she is. We’d like to go up and see her room and have you tell us what’s missing from there,” Sally said.

  “That’s just the thing, Chief Sullivan. I can’t see that anything is missing, except her purse.” Mandy seemed a little excited that she had police in her house and she leaned forward to take in everything about them. Officer Benson kept his eyes on his tiny notebook, making scribbles even when nothing was being said. Mandy seemed to be trying to catch his eye.

  “Mandy, tell me everything you can think of about how Jennifer has been acting recently. Even if it doesn’t seem significant at all,” Sally said.

  “Well, let’s see. We’ve been roommates for the last two years, so I know Jennifer’s habits pretty well. She’s a real freak about studying and she doesn’t party much. That’s why I was so surprised when she didn’t come home last night. But I thought, you know, that she’d finally hooked up with someone. I mean, it was going to happen sooner or later, right?”

  “What’s that?” Sally asked.

  Mandy tried a coy look. “You know, that she’d hook up with a guy. They say there’s someone out there for everyone, and even Jennifer can’t stay a virgin forever.”

  “Do you have any idea who the guy might be?”

  “Not really. It’s a little confusing. See, Jennifer has a thing for one of her professors, the one with the English accent. His name’s John Barrow, which I only know because she says it whenever she can. John this and John that.”

  “Did Jennifer ever say whether Barrow and she were seeing each other?”

  “Well, no, and I’m not sure she would have been able to keep that to herself, do you know what I mean? She’d be too excited, even though he could get into a shitload of trouble for sleeping with one of his students. And it was Barrow who called here looking for Jennifer, and I don’t know what to make of that.” Mandy was getting wound up, looking back and forth at them and leaning over to stare at Benson’s notes.

  “Mandy, I need you to concentrate here and tell me everything. Why and when he called, all of it.”

  “Sure. He called yesterday morning because Jennifer didn’t show up for his eight o’clock seminar. He said he was concerned because she’d missed Monday too. You see, the thing is, we didn’t realize Jennifer was gone until this morning. I’m not sure I should be saying this in front of a law enforcement officer,” Mandy said, casting another look at Ted, “but I spent Monday through Wednesday night with my boyfriend.”

  “That’s okay, Mandy. As far as I know, that’s not illegal,” Sally said.

  “Anyway, I mentioned Jennifer to my housemates at breakfast this morning because it didn’t look like she’d come home last night, and we figured out that no one had seen her at all, not since Monday when I left for class.”

  “You called her cell?”

  “Sure. But she didn’t answer it. I left one message saying we were worried, and then another telling her the police were looking for her.”

  “And what was she doing when you left for class?”

  “I thought she just decided to cut class and sleep in. That would have been Barrow’s class, which should have told me something was wrong. She wouldn’t miss a chance to see him. She had the blankets over her head and didn’t move while I got ready to go. I guess I thought maybe she was hungover or something.”

  “Did Jennifer drink a lot?” Sally asked.

  “No, she didn’t. Jennifer doesn’t do much of anything except study and watch a little TV. Her head is always in a book. Or she’s mooning about John Barrow, like I said.”

  They made their way up to the shared room on the second floor. Sally had forgotten how college students lived. Even in this elegant old house, the room two students were expected to share didn’t seem big enough for one. It quickly became apparent among Jennifer’s highly organized clothing and study materials that nothing was noticeably missing. There were no gaps in the closet or the bookshelves, her clothes drawers were full of neatly folded clothing, her coats and shoes all seemed to be in place in the closet. Her backpack lay next to her bed, filled with textbooks and notebooks.

  Sally leaned over to pull open the small drawer in Jennifer’s nightstand and stood still. There sitting alone in the drawer was a pregnancy kit, used, its tip showing the + sign that almost certainly meant the tester was pregnant. She took an evidence envelope out of the bag on her shoulder and picked up the pregnancy kit with her gloved hand.

  “Looks like Jennifer might have taken care of that virginity issue after all.”

  “Oh, my God,” breathed Mandy. “It’s got to be that professor. She would have told me if it was someone else.”

  Sally and Ted finished up their search of the room and the house and found nothing further. Ted took a copy of the house resident roster and went out front to drive Sally back to the station. Ted would return later to interview the rest of the housemates while Sally tried again to track down John Barrow. He hadn’t returned the calls she’d made earlier, and the new information made Sally wonder why.

  “I want to thank you for the opportunity with the interviews, Chief,” Ted said as they got in the squad.

  “You deserve a chance like anyone else. Just don’t fuck it up, and I think you know what I mean,” Sally said, gesturing back toward the house.

  Ted looked appalled. “Oh, Chief, I’d never do anything like that. Jeez.”

  “Are you going to tell me your mama raised you better than that?”

  “Well, she did. She did. And I have a girlfriend already, just so you know.” Ted pursed his lips as he drove around the hill toward town.

  Coming up on the left was Beth Ellis’s house. Sally knew where Beth lived, even if she didn’t really know her. She made it her business over the last two years to know just about everything it was legal to know about the citizens of the town, including the college folk. She spent many hours driving around town, taking patrol shifts like the other officers. She knew where people lived, knew what they drove, generally knew who they were seeing, if only because she noticed who was with whom when she was out on the streets or in the town’s various stores, restaurants, and bars. Beth’s house was modest, but the front yard was nicely landscaped, the paint fresh, the front door a bright shiny red.

  After her shift was over, Sally drove back down Tenth Avenue, past Beth’s house again. It wasn’t on her way home. In fact, it was the opposite direction, but it was one of the routes to the Hy-Vee, albeit a roundabout one. She could use more dog food, she thought. She could also use another look at Beth, curious whether her strong reaction at lunch was repeatable. Maybe it was a singular phenomenon where a hormone surge, blue skies, and a pretty woman converged to produce a false positive attraction—the kind of false positive that had gotten Sally embroiled with the wrong woman on more than one occasion. She didn’t think that was the case with Beth. She’d had the same reaction when she first met her at last year’s Corn Festival, a brief introduction where only a few words were spoken. It was as if Beth was a magnetic pole and Sally pivoted right toward her. She was captivated by the strong features on her lovely face, expressive and warm and, to Sally, profoundly sexy. She hadn’t picked up the slightest hint that Beth fe
lt anything remotely the same in exchange, and soon enough the meeting faded in her memory, revived brilliantly by their meeting today. It seemed unlikely to be a false positive.

  As she neared Beth’s house a pickup truck approached from the other direction, turning left into Beth’s driveway. Mel got out of the truck, a six-pack under her arm. Sally knew what it generally meant when Mel’s pickup was parked in a woman’s driveway. She hadn’t known before that minute that Beth was one of those women.

  Chapter Four

  The movie was over and the remains of the feast lay on a brightly colored Mexican plate sitting on the coffee table. A few pizza puffs and egg rolls surrounded a bowl of salsa, while bags of chips and cookies were crumpled nearby. Mel’s feet were propped up on the coffee table next to Beth’s, pointed upright during the movie and now, just as the credits began, starting to move and point at Beth’s.

  “I thought that stupid movie would never end,” Mel said, pulling Beth sideways and moving over her on the sofa. Several empty bottles fell to the floor.

  “I refuse to be defensive about Top Gun. Kelly McGillis is in it. I think that speaks for itself.”

  “It’s over. That’s all I care about.” Mel leaned in for a long kiss, so long and intense that Beth eventually put her hands on Mel’s shoulders and pushed her up.

  “I have to breathe,” Beth said.

  “Okay.” Mel kissed her forehead, her scalp, and then the cowlick on Beth’s brow that always made her look just slightly disheveled. There was not a product on earth that hadn’t been used in her fight against it.

  “That was some kiss,” Beth said. “Is there anything going on that I should know about?”

  “Don’t you start with that. If you don’t stop worrying about me making more of this than it is, I’m going to have to stop seeing you altogether.” Mel eased back a little and gave Beth room to move up on the sofa.

  “No, I don’t want that. I just care a lot about you, Mel. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “So I shouldn’t kiss you like I mean it, is that what you’re saying?” Mel smiled.

  “It is complicated, isn’t it? Sex complicates a friendship.”

  Mel sighed and reached for her bottle of beer. “Here’s the thing, though. Say you and I were not having sex. Would we really be friends? Would you have driven into my repair shop with your VW and thought, ‘Jesus, would I like to sit down for a chat with her?’ No, I don’t think so. Unless you’re hiding a deep love for sports and cars, we don’t have a whole lot in common. And, I’ve got to tell you, once you open your mouth about anything to do with the college or books or whatever, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. But once we started sleeping with each other, I’m more relaxed about not having much in common. I’m not bored out of my skull, even if we’re not having sex.”

  “Thanks, I think.” Beth had never heard Mel talk for so long. She realized Mel had given all of this quite a bit of thought. “I’ve always wondered how you’ve managed to sleep with so many of the women in town and not have any scars as a result. Surely you’ve angered more than a few, or broken some hearts?”

  “Well, I have to say that some are more comfortable about it than others, which I suppose you’d expect,” Mel said, flashing another smile. “You’re great because a) you’re an outstanding kisser; b) you’re hot in the sack; c) you’re not looking for anything more; and d) I really like you, even though I don’t understand you half the time.”

  “You understand me just fine, Mel. Don’t play on that ‘I’m just a car mechanic’ thing.” Beth reached over to touch Mel’s leg. “You’re smarter and more kind than a lot of the women I’ve been involved with, and most of them have been college professors.” Beth stopped talking as the truth of that statement hit her.

  Mel cocked her head to the side, staring at Beth as though she were a painting—an abstract one—and if she viewed her from a different angle she was more likely to figure her out.

  “One thing I’ve never understood about you,” she said, “is why you’ve never had a girlfriend in all the time I’ve known you. What is that, five years or so?”

  “Maybe you’ve taken all the available women for yourself. Have you thought of that?” Beth teased.

  Mel leaned forward and took Beth’s hands. “I’m serious. You’re a beautiful woman, you’re sweet, you’re smart, I assume. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Beth rubbed her thumbs along the knuckles of Mel’s large, rough hands. “If I did have a girlfriend, you wouldn’t be here right now.”

  “I think you’re avoiding the question, darlin’. You have had relationships before, haven’t you?”

  Beth pulled her hands from Mel’s and stood, gathering plates and glasses in her arms. “Mel, being quizzed by you on my relationship history is a little rich, don’t you think? What do you know about relationships?”

  “I know I want one someday. And don’t look alarmed. I don’t mean with you.”

  “Thanks a lot.” Beth headed into the kitchen and dumped everything onto the counter. “I’ve had girlfriends. I just said I did a few minutes ago.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” Mel was leaning against the kitchen door frame watching Beth rinse dishes and stack them back on the counter.

  “Of course I’ve been in love.”

  “Once? Twice?”

  Beth stepped over to Mel and poked her in the arm. “What are you doing? You’ve never asked me things like this before. And frankly, that was one of your charms.”

  “Was?” Mel smiled. She took Beth’s hand back into her own. “I’m just curious. If you don’t want to tell me what happened, that’s fine.”

  “Good. Subject closed.” Beth returned to the living room and gathered up bags of chips and empty bottles.

  “Fair enough. How about we take a shower together and just forget it?”

  “Maybe,” Beth said.

  “And I’ll say just one final thing. If you want to get a girl, you need to seriously upgrade your taste in movies and food.”

  “Yes, I’ll remember that, Ms. Loose-meat Sandwich Girl.” Beth turned toward the kitchen with her arms full. “And who ever said I wanted to ‘get a girl,’ as you put it?”

  If Mel had pushed her further, Beth might have admitted that the thought of something solid had flitted through her mind earlier that day when she sat next to Sally Sullivan at lunch. Not solid in a stodgy way, but firm, present, unlikely to melt or slip away. She shook the image out of her head and passed the phone just as it rang. With her arms full she let it go to voicemail, curious about the 415 area code on the caller ID.

  “I’m just going to let this go to voicemail,” Beth called out. She didn’t know who it could be, and the thought of a shower with Mel was starting to sound good. But when Mel headed back toward the bathroom, Beth found she couldn’t resist and she dialed in for her message.

  “Dean Ellis? This is Jennifer Manos. It’s seven o’clock in San Francisco, so I hope I’m not calling too late. I know the school is probably wondering where I am by this point, so I thought I’d call to let you know I’m okay. I’ve decided to leave school, but I really can’t go into all the reasons why. Maybe I’ll be able to come back at some point to finish up. If you need to let me know anything, I’ve got a new e-mail address—it’s JenniferIsGone at yahoo dot com. That should be easy enough to remember. Bye.”

  “Shit.” Beth grabbed the phone and dialed *69. The line rang for a long minute before voicemail picked up and a mechanical voice repeated the number, which Beth wrote down, and asked the caller to leave their message. “Jennifer, it’s Beth Ellis. I just missed your call but I’m here at home. Please call me back. We’re worried about you, even though you say you’re okay. I want to talk to you about school. It sounds so rash to drop out now—you’re just a couple months away from graduation. That tells me you’re in trouble. Please, please call me back. And here’s my cell number so you’ll have that too—”

  Beth hung up and raked her hands
through her hair. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not, though it was undoubtedly a relief to hear Jennifer was not injured or dead. But there was clearly something wrong. Beth headed toward the bathroom and walked through the open door. Standing over by the shower adjusting the water temperature was Mel in all her naked glory. Beth stopped and stared.

  “Looks like you started without me,” she said.

  “Yeah. The water’s just about perfect.” Mel said, turning to face Beth. She was a beautiful, androgynous vision. Her shoulders were broad, her arms and legs strong and defined, her breasts full and her hips gently curved. Her belly was long and slightly rounded, but still the strength was visible throughout her torso. She stood there as comfortable as if she had her coveralls on.

  “I’m sorry, Mel. Truly sorry, believe me. But I think I have to end our evening together. The call I got was from a student we discovered missing today. The police are looking for her, there’s a lot of worried people—”

  “It’s okay. I’ll just hang out till you’re free.” Mel stepped into the shower and pulled the shower curtain closed. Beth could hear her long sigh. “God, that feels really good.”

  Beth’s mouth turned down at the corner as she continued to stare toward Mel, now wondering why this naked woman felt she could make herself at home like this. She crossed the room in a couple of strides and pulled the shower curtain back.

  “Mel, you have to leave. I’ve got a crisis on my hands here.”

  Mel wiped the water from her face. “Are you kidding me? You’re throwing me out after I spent all evening watching Tom Cruise and eating pizza puffs? C’mon, Beth.”

  Beth grabbed a towel and handed it to Mel. “I didn’t know you were expecting something in return,” she said.

  “Of course I wanted something in return. I don’t know if I expected it.” Mel turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. “No, God damn it, I did expect it. Why wouldn’t I? That’s what you expect when you see me, isn’t it? To fuck?”