by Dawn Eastman
Katie took a deep breath, “Okay, shoot.”
Matt leaned back, concern in his eyes. “You look like you think I might actually shoot you. It’s not that bad.”
Katie smiled and consciously relaxed her shoulders.
“It’s about Eugene Lowe,” Matt said.
Katie really did relax at that. What could he possibly have to say about Eugene Lowe that warranted such a serious tone?
“The night that Heather died, when Eugene was found with her body …”
Heather? Was that the name of the victim? Did Matt know her?
She waited, impatiently, but with the bland expression she used to encourage patients to share uncomfortable details.
“I was at the party,” Matt said.
“What party?” Katie asked.
Matt held her gaze. “How much do you know about Eugene’s case?”
“Almost nothing. He only told me he’d been in prison, and another patient told me it had been for murder. Did you know the girl who died?”
Matt nodded. “Actually, we dated very briefly in college.” Matt held up his hand at Katie’s expression. “It was casual and had been over for a long time when she died, but we’d stayed friends. That’s why I was at the party.”
Katie took a swig of her wine. It was ridiculous to feel jealous of someone he’d known more than a decade ago. (And who was now dead.) She shoved the feeling into a little box and took a deep breath. “So, tell me about this party.”
“It was a big Halloween bash that was put on every year by the student activities group. I think the university tried to commandeer Halloween in the hopes that the frat houses would be less destructive, but all it did was create a huge blowout every year.”
“So you were at the party because of Heather?”
“I’d run into her earlier that week, and she talked it up so much, I promised I’d go. It was supposed to be a costume party, but not everyone dressed up. It was kind of a ‘go big or go home’ kind of thing. If you wore a costume, it had to be really good.” Matt paused and glanced out the window. “Anyway, I don’t remember much about that night—it was twelve or thirteen years ago. I saw Heather early in the evening, and then she wandered off into the crowd. I found a group of my friends, and we hung around rating the costumes and drinking beer. I never saw her again.” Matt finished his drink in one long swallow.
“I’m really sorry, Matt.” Katie reached forward and touched his hand. “It’s always hard to lose someone your own age. And in such a violent way.”
“Well, I have a feeling that, now that Eugene is out of prison, the whole story will reenter the gossip mill. As you know, small towns have long memories.”
“So, did you know Eugene?”
Matt shook his head. “I’d never met him prior to last week at the ER. I knew his name sounded familiar but couldn’t place it until I heard the nurses saying he’d just gotten out of prison.”
“How did Heather die?”
“According to what I heard at the time, she left the party alone and cut through the Law Quad on her way home. There was construction and landscaping going on at the time. There were piles of building materials covered in tarps. The story was that they fought, he pushed her, and she hit her head on a brick. It looked like an accident, which is why he got manslaughter instead of murder. I don’t know if he even knew her, but they must have argued about something and then she was dead. The truth is, I didn’t follow the story that closely. There was so much in the papers about her ex-boyfriends and the fact that she was walking alone at night. Like she was to blame for what happened. And honestly, I didn’t want to know those things. She had been a funny, vibrant person, and after her death she was only remembered as a victim. And used as a cautionary tale.”
Katie chastised herself for the flash of jealousy. A young woman had been killed with her whole life ahead of her. Katie shivered a bit wondering if Eugene Lowe had enough anger under the surface to become violent. Or was he innocent, as Taylor thought?
And what about Taylor? Where was she, and was her project to blame for her disappearance? Katie didn’t know, and she felt helpless. She’d already talked to Matt about Taylor and didn’t want to spend any more time discussing young lives in danger.
Their food arrived, and they made an effort to talk about more pleasant things. Murder and violence tended to put a damper on an evening. Matt regaled her with stories about his evenings in the ER—either losing quarters to the nurses playing poker all evening or spending the entire night treating chest pain and stitching up lacerations. Emergency room shifts in Baxter Community Hospital were almost never slow and steady. It was either a ghost town or a war zone. By the time they ordered dessert, Katie had put Eugene, Heather, and Taylor out of her mind.
9
John Carlson kept his face blank but clenched his fists. From his seat behind his desk, he watched Nathan Nielsen pace, threaten, and yell.
“You have to do something about this,” Nathan said. “He’s a known killer and he’s stalking my wife.”
“Sit down, please, Mr. Nielsen.” Carlson tried to keep the growl out of his voice. “Has he threatened your wife? Have you seen him on your property or anywhere near your wife?”
Nathan sat in the visitor chair but was so angry that he seemed to be emitting waves of heat and energy. The room felt very small.
“No, he hasn’t threatened her,” Nathan mumbled. “And I haven’t seen him close to the house.”
Carlson pulled a thin file to the middle of his desk and opened it. “Mr. Lowe made his own complaints a few weeks ago. Spray paint on his garage, threatening notes, and vandalism to his property.” Carlson looked up from the file. “Know anything about that?”
Nathan looked away and shook his head. He gave a short bark of laughter. “I come in here asking you to protect my wife from a known murderer and you accuse me of teenage pranks?”
“I didn’t accuse, just asked if you knew anything.” Carlson let the silence lengthen. “I’ve also heard that Mr. Lowe has had some injuries lately. It seems he’s the one who needs protection.”
Nathan pressed his lips together and blew air out of his nose like an enraged bull. “So, I need to wait until Alicia has been injured before I can get a restraining order?”
“It’s not as simple as that.” Carlson folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “Why isn’t Alicia here to make a complaint? Does she feel threatened?”
“She doesn’t want to make trouble for him because he just got out of prison.” Nathan spoke into his lap.
“You probably haven’t had to deal with something like this, but it takes evidence of a real threat to get a restraining order. I’ll have to talk to her before I can proceed with any action against Mr. Lowe,” Carlson said. Then, just to see what reaction he would get, he said, “Should I stop by the house? Or do you want to ask her to come in to the station?”
“Not yet. I’ll talk to her and get her to stop by.”
Carlson sat back and lowered his voice. “Does she even know you’re here?”
“No,” said Nathan. “I hoped to take care of this without upsetting her, but if the complaint has to come from her, then I’ll convince her.”
Carlson stood and held out his hand. “I think we’re done for now. If Alicia wants to make a complaint, I’ll be happy to talk to her.”
Nathan stood and, ignoring Carlson’s hand, yanked his jacket off the back of the chair.
When he reached for the door, Carlson stopped him with a word.
“Nathan, call me if you think someone is trespassing or threatening. In the meantime, I hope Eugene doesn’t have any more accidents. I’ll talk to him informally and let him know you have concerns; it’s the best I can do at this point. You and Alicia should just go about your lives.”
Nathan opened the door and stalked out.
10
After Matt dropped her off, Katie hadn’t been able to settle. She’d washed the dishes, tried to read a thriller, and fli
pped through channels on the TV. By midnight, she’d decided to go to bed. That had only given her more space to think and worry. About Taylor, and whether she was alive. And about Eugene. Was he dangerous? Should she be more careful around him, or did he need her help rather that her fear? And about whether she should be doing more for either of them. Therefore, it was no surprise that, by midmorning and after three cups of her favorite French roast coffee, she was yawning and struggling to concentrate.
Katie decided she had to do something and her first step should be to gather information. Both about Taylor and her activities before she disappeared and about Eugene. Since she had no authority to go around interviewing people, she decided to start with people she knew.
She pressed GABRIELLE on her phone and waited.
“Hey you,” Gabrielle said.
“Hi,” Katie said. “I think it’s time I meet this new man of yours. Want to go for drinks tonight?”
“Sure! I’ve been wanting to get my two most important people together.”
Katie tried, and failed, not to be irritated that she was being lumped in with some guy Gabrielle had known for a few weeks. Then she reminded herself she was only meeting Russell to pump him for information and the guilt canceled out the irritation. She smiled—because someone had said it made your voice sound warmer—and said she’d see them that evening.
“Bring Matt if he’s not working,” Gabrielle said.
“Of course he’ll be there.” Katie had no idea if he could make it, but she wanted to sound as if she’d been planning this for a while, not just the last five minutes.
They said good-bye with Gabrielle sounding much more excited than Katie felt.
After she ended the call with Gabrielle, she thought about who else might be able to fill her in on Baxter happenings from ten or fifteen years ago.
Katie glanced into the hallway and saw that there were no patients waiting to be seen. She walked to the front reception area to see if she could catch Debra alone. Debra Gallagher was Katie’s main source of Baxter news. Between her husband Sean, who was a police officer, and her own job as receptionist at the only family medicine practice in Baxter, she knew everything about everybody. And any gaps in her intel were filled in by her friend Lois at the Clip n’ Curl.
Debra didn’t have a molecule of discretion in her body. Not only would she share any gossip she heard, but she also shared every thought or concern that crossed her mind. As Caleb would say, her life was an unencrypted hard drive. Katie was a much more private person, and it had taken her a while to get used to Debra’s cavalier approach to private information. She still felt guilty every time she took advantage of Debra’s forthcoming nature to gather the latest scoop.
She pushed open the door that led from the patient rooms to the front waiting area. It was empty. Where was Debra? Then she heard muffled mumbling from under the desk. She peeked over the edge.
“Debra?”
The muttering stopped and Debra emerged, just barely missing smacking her head on the underside of the desk. She was short and curvy with bouncy blonde curls. Her best feature was her dimpled smile.
“Oh, hi, Dr. LeClair. Have you heard anything about Taylor?” Debra had also bonded with Taylor during her brief tenure at the office. But Debra bonded with everyone.
Katie shook her head. “Still no word. What are you doing under there?”
“The cords were all tangled and I accidentally pulled the plug out of the wall. The computer shut down, the printer shut down, everything was plugged into the same box. I thought we’d lost power for a minute.” She grinned, then assumed a more somber expression.
Katie scanned the waiting room again. All clear for now.
“Debra,” Katie began, “I was wondering if you remember anything about Eugene Lowe and his troubles from years ago.”
“I was so surprised to see him when he came for his appointment!” Debra wheeled around her workstation while she talked, rebooting the computer and checking on the printer. “I’d heard he was out of prison and back living with his mom, but for some reason I never expected him to come here. I don’t know why—I guess because he sort of became famous for a while, and you don’t expect famous people to be real people, you know?”
Katie nodded and hoped Debra would get to the story of how Eugene had become famous before another patient came through the door. “What do you remember from that time?”
Debra stopped her chair in front of Katie and rested her chin on her hand. “Well, Eugene was a year or so behind me in school, so I didn’t know him well. I know he and Alicia Stewart were friends and that there was some sort of drama during their senior year. Her father banned her from seeing him and made all sorts of threats against Eugene.” She twirled her hair around a finger, which was her thinking pose. “It was a big deal at the time because they lived right next door to each other. I think it was especially traumatic for Eugene because she was really one of his only friends. But then Alicia ran off. In fact, her father accused Eugene of kidnapping her or scaring her away. I do remember that. It was right around this time of year and I ran into Eugene at the grocery store. He looked like he hadn’t slept in months. It was as if his entire world had collapsed. The next thing I knew, he’d been arrested for killing some girl in Ann Arbor.”
“Someone told me he was found with the body,” Katie said. “Was there any more evidence against him?”
Debra shook her head. “I don’t remember exactly. Sean and I were planning our wedding at that point and I was focused on that. You might talk to Linda Carlson. I know my parents said she was refusing to reprint any of the news stories from Ann Arbor and went to visit Eugene in prison. She always claimed he had been set up, or at the very least was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but she didn’t think that was enough to convict him—all circumstantial is what she said.”
“Thanks, Debra,” Katie said. “I’ll have to make a stop at the newspaper office.”
Katie turned to go back to her office.
“Hey, did Taylor ever get in touch with you?” Debra asked.
Katie turned slowly back to face Debra. “Taylor?”
“She called last week and I gave her your cell phone number. I forgot all about it over the weekend. She didn’t leave a message.” Debra blinked the tears away. “I just wondered if you talked to her before … she went missing.”
Katie was about to press for more information when a mom and her three kids bustled in the door. She came to the desk, slightly out of breath.
The woman wore an oversized T-shirt and leggings. The two older children swarmed the toy area, pulling every toy out of the box. The youngest looked flushed and had obviously been crying.
Debra spun in her chair and rubbed her fingertips under her eyes.
“Sorry, I’m a few minutes late,” the mom said.
“No problem,” Debra said. “I’ll get you checked in.”
11
He borrowed his mother’s car. It seemed the prudent thing to do after the last time. His old green Chevy pickup had rusted so badly while he was away that it was even easier to pick out of a lineup than he was—even with the ears. But the truck was loyal and he valued that above everything else. It was one of the things he’d learned in prison—who to trust (no one), who’s got your back (anyone who owes you). On the outside, it was less clear. So many things could shift and slide.
He sat in the car parked a couple of houses down from where Alicia lived. He wanted to smoke, but didn’t. He didn’t want the hassle of an argument. His mother hated cigarettes.
Because it was daytime, he slouched in the seat and hoped there wasn’t a nosy neighbor watching him as he stared at the house. He knew she usually came home around this time. She picked up her little girl at day care and came home an hour or so before the husband arrived. Who could have predicted that Alicia would marry Nathan Nielsen? She’d hated him in high school. But maybe that was just because Nathan had been such an ass to Eugene himself. Maybe, after everything tha
t had happened, she didn’t care about how Nathan had treated him.
He saw Alicia’s car coming down the street toward him and congratulated himself again on using his mother’s nondescript Ford sedan. Alicia would know his truck anywhere. They’d had such good times driving in that truck, singing at the top of their lungs to the Proclaimers (Alicia in a retro/ironic way, but Eugene had meant every word) and talking about the future.
Reality crashed into his thoughts as Alicia pulled into her driveway and got out of the car. She walked to the other side and reached in to unbuckle the baby. He wished he could get close enough to see the baby. She was probably beautiful like her mother.
He had been waiting for this moment for weeks. Slowly working up the courage to talk to her. He hadn’t planned on this sense of paralysis. What if she rejected him? What if she didn’t want to be friends anymore? Could he take the disappointment?
As he sat debating with himself, another car pulled in.
Nathan. Home early. Eugene knew better than to hang around. He started up the sedan and drove slowly away from Alicia’s house.
12
After work, Katie and Matt drove to Ann Arbor to meet Gabrielle and Russell. Katie had been thrilled when Matt said he didn’t have to work and that he’d love to meet Gabrielle’s new “friend.”
They walked into the dimly lit bar, and Katie squinted around the room. It was a typical just-off-campus bar. Dark, with lots of wood and small black tables. There was an enthusiastic game of darts in progress in a room separated from the tables by a half wall. The requisite large blue M hung over the bar, but there were no other nods to the university. Instead, license plates, street signs, and hubcaps had been nailed haphazardly on the walls. Katie spotted Gabrielle sitting at a table in the corner with a very attractive dark-haired man. His hair was on the longer side, like Matt’s, but where Matt had the slightest curl that fell across his forehead, Russell Hunt’s was stick straight.
