The Harry Starke Series Books 4 -6: The Harry Starke Series Boxed Set 2 (The Harry Starke Novels - The Boxed Sets)

by Blair Howard

  “Nothing. Nothing at all. She works here five days a week, and she’s on call, as are we all. I’ve never met her outside of the office. She’s a bit of a loner. Very nice, of course, attractive, but she seems to prefer her own company.”

  “How about friends?”

  “Again, I’m sorry, but I don’t know of any. As I said, she seems to be a bit of a loner.”

  “How about boyfriends?” I asked.

  He looked sharply at me. “Er… no. At least I don’t think so.”

  Oh yeah you do.

  “Dr. Jepson,” I said. “You say she’s worked for you for five years, yet in all that time you’ve learned nothing about her, about her life outside of your office. I find that a little… implausible?”

  His face reddened. “Mr. Starke. I’m not sure I like….”

  “Oh, I meant nothing by that, Doctor,” I said, watching his eyes. “I wasn’t suggesting that you were… lying.”

  And there it was, that telltale twitch at the corner of his mouth. What are you hiding, Doctor?

  I decided to let the sleeping dog lie, at least for now. “I wonder if you’d let us have her address,” I said, changing the subject.

  “Yes, of course.” He almost leaped for the door. He returned a few seconds later with Padgett’s personnel file and one of her business cards, her address and private phone number written on the back of it. I thumbed the number into my iPhone and hit send. Straight to voicemail.

  Kate and I rose to our feet. I offered him my hand as I thanked him and said goodbye, and he took it, and then he shook hands with Kate, and showed us to the door. Danny was just pulling into the parking lot.

  “He’s hiding something,” Kate said, watching Danny park. “I wonder what? I don’t see him fooling around in the Sorbonne.”

  I nodded. “Did you catch the look I got when I asked about her boyfriends? You think he might be fooling around with her?”

  “Now that’s a thought.”

  “It sure as hell is.”

  We watched as Danny climbed out of his cruiser and strode toward us. When he was close enough, he stuck out his hand.

  “Harry, you bastard. It’s been years. You too, Katie. Why the hell haven’t you been to see me?”

  “That works both ways, Danny. How are things here on the mountain?”

  “Quiet, of course. Just the way I like ’em. You wanna go get a coffee and a sandwich? Hey, I know. You want Mexican? El Metate’s good, and it’s just down the road.”

  “No,” I said with conviction. “But a coffee would be good. “

  “Mickey D’s it is then. Follow me.”

  You have to understand Danny. He’s a cop’s cop. He’s my age, with an affable, outgoing presence that belies his abilities. For almost ten years he led a Chattanooga PD SWAT team. Six feet tall, blond, tanned, slim, he’s always immaculately dressed. He has his uniforms tailored in New York, and they fit him perfectly. He wears white shirts and blue ties. The antique Union cavalry Stetson, complete with crossed sabers, is an anomaly that suits both the authority of his station and his character. I always thought he was born 150 years too late.

  We took a booth in the McDonald’s on Taft Highway and got coffees all around. It had been quite a while since I’d last sampled the delights of “Mickey D’s,” and I had to admit it, they did serve good coffee.

  “What the hell happened, Harry? Emily? My God. Johnston must be a mess.”

  I didn’t answer right away. I shook my head. Tried to clear away the specter of Emily’s broken corpse lying on Doc Sheddon’s table.

  “He is a mess, Danny, and so is the case. She was brutalized, sexually and physically. She went missing a week ago, last Saturday night, late, but she didn’t die until sometime late Thursday or early Friday morning, and she wasn’t dumped until late on Saturday, in the woods off Wicker Road.”

  “Damn. That’s Israel Hands’ jurisdiction. Good luck with that one.”

  “Oh he’ll play ball. He has to. He has an election coming up.”

  “So you say. I wouldn’t count on it. Who found her?”

  “Some woman walking her dog. Danny, how well do you know Dr. Padgett?”

  “I know of her. Good looking babe… whoops, sorry Kate. She is a looker, though. And good at her job. Large-animal doctor. Specializes in horses and cows.”

  “And Jepson?”

  “Good vet. Bit of a lady’s man, even though he’s married. Came here from Florida back in the nineties. Runs a good shop, wealthy, likes a drink, lousy golfer, wife’s a bit of a mouse. There’s been some talk about his philandering, but, well, you know small-town gossip.”

  “How about the college, Danny?” Kate asked. “You ever hear of any, I dunno… anomalies? Drugs, sex, anything?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not like most universities. It’s small, and very exclusive. Money alone won’t get you in. You need status. Most of the students are daughters of billionaires, politicians, Middle Eastern princes and the like. You get a degree from Belle Edmondson, you’re set for life.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Now the biggie. What do you know about a Captain Conrad Rösche, head of security at the college?”

  He pursed his lips, leaned back, clasped his hands behind his neck, stared at me for a moment, his chin almost on his chest. Then he switched his gaze to Kate, then back to me.

  “Oh shit, you don’t think…? Goddamn it, I hope not. He’s one crazy bastard, a chameleon. One minute he’s an easy-going, country club type; the next he’s a raving lunatic who would cut your throat if he thought he could get away with it. Two years ago, maybe a little less, he beat a man almost to death on the golf course over there.” He pointed out the window. “I arrested him, but it was on private property and the guy wouldn’t press charges. He was scared shitless, and I don’t blame him.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That’s about how I’d figured him. Anything else?”

  “Oooh yeah. He likes to hurt women, too. I know of several. None of them will talk or file charges, though.”

  “How about his crew?” Kate asked. “We met a couple of them. They were not your average security guards.”

  “Good question. But I don’t know anything about that. That mob of so-called officers he has over there….” He paused. “I dunno. What the hell he needs them for I have no idea. It’s a college for women—girls. His men walk and drive around in twos, like they’re on the streets of East LA. They wear body armor, for Christ’s sake.”

  “They ever cause any trouble?” Kate asked.

  “No. In fact you’d hardly know they were there.”

  “So if it’s not the women they’re protecting,” she said, “what else could it be?”

  Danny slowly shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine. They’re out of my jurisdiction, and they stay out, so I don’t worry too much about them.”

  “Could it be drugs?”

  He shrugged. “Again, you know as much as I do… but I’ll bet they’re up to something. Well, Rösche, anyway.”

  “Just one more thing,” Kate said. “How about the chancellor? What do you know about her?”

  At that he grinned widely. “Now you’re talking. She’s a class act, though I’m not sure she’s all she makes out she is, and I have no real reason to say that. It’s just that she… well, she doesn’t strike me as being quite kosher. She comes off as… well, I don’t know what they call it in England, but upper-class? Aristocratic? But I don’t think she actually is. In fact, I have my doubts that she’s even English. I’ve attended several functions where she’s been present, and that accent ain’t always what it should be. Oh, and when I said Doc Jepson is a bit of a ladies man—she was one of his ladies.”

  “Oh yeah?” I asked. “How do you know?”

  “Harry, you’re a member of the country club, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Me too.” He grinned. “We have one here on the mountain, and you know how things work, right? Not just at functions, but any old time when mem
bers get together and take on a little more ballast than they should. They get tipsy, right? And when they get tipsy….”

  “Yeah, Danny, I get it. So when she drinks, she plays, and Jepson was one of her playthings.”

  “That’s about the size of it, but I think there’s more to her than that. I think she plays for both teams. Don’t know that for sure, just… well, little things, here and there. Maybe.” He looked at his watch. “Sorry, guys. It’s been great to see you both, but I need to get back to the office. But hey, if there’s anything you need, back-up, me….” He looked at Kate. She smiled. “You name it and it’s yours, okay?”

  We stood, shook hands, and he left.

  “There was a time….” Kate said thoughtfully, as she watched him go. “Oh forget it. He doesn’t change, though, does he?”

  “Nope.” We watched him pull out of the parking lot, and then I glanced at my watch. “Emily’s computer and iPad need to be dropped off at your computer lab,” I said. “Will you take care of it?”

  She nodded, and downed the last of her coffee. “I’ll do it on my way home. I wish we could let Tim have it, but…. Maybe you could have him come to us, take a look at it in our lab.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that. Listen, are you busy this evening?”

  “Not especially. Why?”

  “You want to come around to my place?” I asked. “We have a lot to discuss, and we need to go through Emily’s book. We also need to talk strategy. I’ll have dinner for three delivered.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she cocked her head to one side. “For three? I take it you’re including Amanda.”

  “Well yes. Is that a problem?”

  “For me, no. For her…. Harry, I get the impression when I’m around her that she’d rather I wasn’t there.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course you wouldn’t have noticed. You’re a man. So, maybe I should give it a miss tonight. How about we meet at your office in the morning, early, say about eight thirty?”

  “Well… if you say so. I think you’ve got it wrong, though. Maybe I should talk to her.”

  “No, I haven’t, and you’d better not. That would embarrass the both of us.”

  I shrugged. “Have it your way. I’ll go through the book myself. I don’t want to turn it over to Hands just yet. C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

  Chapter 13

  It was right around seven o’clock when I arrived home that evening. The rain had returned and the sky was already turning black. Lookout Mountain was invisible, and I could barely make out the lights on Thrasher Bridge.

  I hit the garage door opener and rolled the Maxima inside next to Amanda’s Lexus. Somehow I found even the sight of her car reassuring, calming.

  She was in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled delightful. She was wearing a white sleeveless dress with a short, flared skirt: gorgeous. I took off my jacket and flung it onto a chair. The holster and M&P9 followed it. I walked into the kitchen, stepped behind her, slipped my arms around her waist, and nuzzled her ear.

  “Stop it, Harry. You’ll make me burn myself.” Reluctantly, I let her go and turned away.

  “Hey. I didn’t tell you to leave. Here.” She handed me a glass of scotch, Laphroaig over a single cube of ice, and smiled. “I heard the garage door.”

  I closed my eyes, and savored the smooth, smoky palette of the Quarter Cask malt. There are some things in life that no amount of money can replace. Laphroaig was one of them; Amanda Cole was another.

  “So,” I said, “how was your day?”

  “The usual. Work, research, and I’ve been talking to contractors about the house.”

  “Oh? How did that go?”

  “It went well. It always does when you have the money to spend on what you want. I also heard from Stacey Breedlove, the realtor. You can close on Friday afternoon, if you want. Can you do that? The quicker you do, the quicker you can get the contactors in there.”

  “Damn. That was quick. Well… yes, okay. Give her a call and set up a time.”

  “Harry! For God’s sake, quit ordering me around. I’m not your secretary.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Okay. I guess I’ll do it, then.” I put on my best ‘little boy lost’ face and waited. Nothing. “Ah hell, as if I don’t have enough on my plate….”

  “All right, all right, I’ll do it. First thing in the morning. Early or late afternoon?”

  “Late. The later the better.”

  “Harry,” Amanda turned off the oven, and turned toward me. “Changing the subject, you remember I told you I’d been doing some research?”

  I nodded.

  “I have something for you. I’ve been doing a little digging through our archives. Emily is not the first girl to have disappeared from that school. She’s not even the second. There have been two others. Emily makes three.”

  I stared at her, my mouth full of scotch, then I gulped it down and almost choked as the fiery liquid hit the back of my throat, “No shit,” I said, coughing. That ain’t no way to drink good liquor, damn it.

  She nodded. “In both instances the disappearances were investigated by our two friends, Detectives Hart and McLeish. The first, Angela Young, disappeared back in 2011. She was the daughter of Georgia State Representative, Michael Young, from Buckhead, Atlanta. Twenty-one years old. The second, Marcy Grove, was a local girl, also twenty-one. She vanished in 2013. She was the daughter of a Dr. Henry and Mrs. Martha Grove of Lookout Mountain. They live on East Brow Road, not far from your new home. Both girls are still missing.”

  I laid down my glass. What she’d just told me put a whole new perspective on the case. Three girls don’t just disappear from an exclusive college. But…. “Why didn’t I hear about this?”

  “Probably because it was hushed up. Bad for business. Bad for the school.”

  “Jeez, I wish I’d known that earlier today…. Why, I wonder, didn’t anybody up there mention it?”

  “As I said: bad for business.”

  I thought about it, picked up my glass, stared down at the whiskey, swirled it around, and then laid the glass down again.

  “Okay,” I said. “We need to talk to the parents, and to Heart and Sole.”

  “I already have. I followed up with both sets of parents this afternoon. They were surprised to hear from me, and pleased that someone was taking an interest again. Both said they hadn’t heard anything from the sheriff’s department in over a year. Representative Young was… angry. There’s probably a better word for it, but that’s what he was. Marcy Grove’s mother, not so much. I think she’s come to terms with the fact that her daughter’s gone and has moved on, or she’s been trying to. She sounded… sad, resigned.”

  There’s no describing how I felt. I had no children, but I couldn’t help but wonder what it must feel like to get the news. I heaved a sigh, shook my head, grabbed my glass, took a large swallow, and looked at Amanda. Her face was an alabaster bust, beautiful but pensive.

  “Then I called Detective Hart,” she said. “What a waste of time that was. ‘The cases are still ongoing so I can’t comment,’ was what he said.

  “I asked if he was actively working them, ‘No comment.’ He’s an ass. Look, I haven’t even scratched the surface. We have our archives, but that’s all. Can you spare Tim to do a little digging for me?”

  “I’ll spare him to do a lot of digging. Listen, I know you. I know that once you set your mind to something you get kinda reckless. That’s not what I want.”

  I looked at her. She was smiling. “Oh, Harry. You do care.”

  “There’s no need for sarcasm. Of course I care. Anyway, if you think I’m going to let you loose to run among the wolves up at Belle Edmondson, you can forget it. I’ll do the field work; you get the exclusive, if there is one.”

  “Hah. So you say. Not going to happen, my big bulky friend. What qualifies you as an investigative journalist? Solving a murder is one thing; being able to build a story that will grab the public by the shorts is quite anoth
er. I’ll do my own story, thank you.”

  “Amanda….”

  The look on her face stopped me dead. It could have curdled milk. I just closed my eyes and shook my head. There was no point in arguing with her. I’d done it before and I’d lost every time.

  “Fine,” I said. “Here’s how it’s going to be. I’ll assign Bob to work with you. No, you do not argue. He’ll provide protection for you, and muscle when you need it.” I shook my head. “Damn. I wish Kate was here. We need to go through Emily’s stuff. I asked her, but she said no.”

  “Why was that?”

  I was about to tell her the truth when I remembered what Kate had said about not telling her, so I didn’t.

  “She said she’d rather meet at the office in the morning.” Not exactly a lie, but what the hell. She still had that look on her face, so I changed the subject. “Look, let’s eat. Then you and I can take a look at it, but first, I need a shower and a change of clothes. You want to join me?”

  “Hah. You should be so lucky,” she said, and five minutes later I was. Life was good.

  When we finally got to it the food, homemade broccoli and cheese casserole, was cold, but what the hell. She nuked it for sixty seconds and it, along with a bottle of 2013 Egon Müller Riesling, was delicious.

  Jeez, I love this woman!

  The meal was a quickie, and when we were done I dumped the two plates in the dishwasher, the casserole leftovers in the fridge, and refilled our glasses. Then I went to my office and made a half-dozen copies of Amanda’s paperwork. Those I set aside for morning, and returned to the living room, where Amanda was seated on the sofa in front of the picture window looking out over the river. That surprised me, because she was seated in exactly the same spot where she’d almost lost her life less than six months earlier, when the ill-fated Mrs. Hartwell had opened fire with an AR15 from across the river. Neither of us felt comfortable there anymore, hence the pending move to Lookout Mountain.

  “Hey, you all right?”

  She looked up at me. “Yes. Why?”

  “Nothing. You seem a little quiet. That’s all.”

  She lowered her head and again stared out of the window. “I have a lot on my mind. I was trying think it through; what my theme would be for the story, but there are too many threads…. I don’t know.”