“I'll call you tomorrow, Kim,” Marti said. “We'll get together.” She looked at her watch. “I'd better get to Miss Dillard's office. It's getting late.”
Marti walked down the nearly empty hall, Karen beside her. She hated the fact that she had left Kim looking like a puppy that had been left out in the rain, but Kim thought Marti was wrong. She wouldn't have helped. She'd have sat in Miss Dillard's office like a constant reminder that Marti couldn't accept the truth.
They rounded a corner to see Miss Dillard waiting in the hallway. The pucker between her eyebrows smoothed itself out as she saw Marti approach, but she glanced at Karen with curiosity.
“You're running a little late,” Miss Dillard said to Marti. “Say good-bye to your friend, and come with me. I don't want to keep Dr. Granberry waiting any longer.”
“Miss Dillard, this is Officer Karen Prescott. She's with the Farrington Park Police Department,” Marti said, Miss Dillard's eyebrows lifted. “Is this a joke? I mean, you look like one of our students.”
Karen sighed. “I'm old enough to be a qualified police officer. I'll be glad to show you my identification.”
After a pause Miss Dillard shook her head. “There's no need for that. I just hope that Marti told you she has an appointment with me.”
“Yes,” Karen said. “If you don't mind, I'd like to sit in. I won't interrupt. I'll try not to be in the way. I think it may be more helpful to me than hearing about the conversation later from Marti.”
“Than hearing about—” Miss Dillard blinked rapidly and smoothed her skirt. “You're a police officer. I don't quite understand all this.”
“Marti has asked me to help find the answers to some questions she has concerning Barry Logan's death.”
“Oh, dear.” Miss Dillard's glance was deep with sympathy as she looked at Marti before turning back to Karen. She seemed to fumble for the right words to say.
“The medical examiner made a decision based on the facts. Marti is the onlyone who can't accept…. Marti and Barry were close friends. Denial, up to a certain point, is normal, but surely, Miss—um—Prescott, you don't agree with Marti that Barry was murdered?”
“I'm conducting an investigation. I have to keep an open mind,”. Karen answered.
Miss Dillard put an arm around Marti's shoulders and turned from the hall. “Very well. There's certainly no harm in having you present. Come with me. Dr. Granberry's waiting for us in my office.”
Marti and Karen followed Miss Dillard through the reception office, down a short hallway, and into her own Office. A tall man with a long nose and prominent teeth got tip from one of the chairs next to Miss Dillard's desk and smiled easily. His deep blue suit hung weB oil his trim body, He adjusted his dark red silk tie and held out a hand. His smile was warm, and his voice was as smooth and polished as an actor's voice. By the time introductions had been made, Marti had the strange feeling that they were in his office, not Miss Dillard's.
As they seated themselves Dr. Granberryleaned forward, his eyes on Marti as though she were the most important person in the world. Marti pressed against the back of the chair, uncomfortable with his attention.
“I'm counting on your help, Marti,” he said. “I'm trying an ambitious project, to be sure, but it's people like you who can help it succeed.”
“I don't know how I can help you,” Marti said.
He smiled brightly, leaned back, and didn't answer her question. “I'm sure you've seen that excellent television feature Networking.”
He paused, and Marti nodded.
She could hear the pride in his voice as he said, “They're sending Parker Grant here from New York to interview me-and some of the students—for a special that's already under way.”
“Is the special about suicide?” Marti gripped the arms of her chair.
“Of course,” Dr. Granberry said. “Our country has a growing problem of teen suicides. We need to discuss this publicly, to call attention to it. I'm sure you'll agree.”
“I'll agree,” Marti said, “as long as you leave Barry outofit.”
“Miss Dillard told me that you're expressing a lot of denial regarding your friend's death,” Dr. Granberry said.
“I'm not denying that Barry died. I know it happened, and it makes me sick. It hurts terribly every time I think about it. The only part I'm denying is that Barry took his own life.”
Although Miss Dillard shot little sideways warning glances at Dr. Granberry, he seemedto ignore her. He leaned toward Marti and said, “Wake up, Marti. Face facts. Can't you see it's wishful thinking on your part?”
“Dr. Granberry,” Miss Dillard said abruptly, “Marti's still feeling a great deal of shock and pain. I don't think your blunt approach is appropriate. You led me to believe that—”
Marti interrupted, shaking her head at Dr. Granberry, “You're wrong about Barry, and I'm trying to prove it. Dr. Granberryturned shurply toward Karen, “Are you helping her persist in her mistaken theory?”
“Dr. Granberry!” Miss Dillard said, but Karen answered him calmly.
“I'm a police officer, I investigate,” Karen said. “I work with evidence, with facts, not with unfounded theories.”
“You haven't even asked me why I know,” Marti told Dr. Granberry.
He looked surprised, but folded his hands and quietly said, “Suppose you tell me.”
“The gun was in his right hand, but Barry was left-handed.”
“Interesting,” he said, “but inconclusive.”
“There was a bruise at the back of his head.” When Dr. Grgnberry didn't respond, Marti added, “And we think that someone took some photographs from Barry's room.” She stopped, resenting the broad smile that spread onto his face.
I'm afraid you haven't convinced me,” Dr. Granberry said. “I doubt if that story could convince anyone.” He gave Karen a quick, impatient glance and turned back to Marti, his voice suave. “You don't really ’ want to put a stumbling block in the way of my project, do you?”
“That's not what I'm trying to do,” Marti said. “I just want to stop you from using Barry's death as an example of a teen suicide. Don't you want the truth?”
“We know what the truth is. And I've signed a high five-figure contract wth my publisher, based on that truth.” Dr. Granberry's voice slid from his throat like cream. “Marti, don't you see how many young people might be helped if we can show how the copycat syndrome exists, how it might be changed?”
“Is treating Barry's death as a copycat suicide the only way you can do this?”
“There've been other examples, but Barry's is the most current. Our data will be fresher with Barry's case.”
Marti stood. “Your data will be wrong,” she said, “I promise you that I'm going to prove it.”
Miss Dillard got to her feet and reached out as Marti passed, resting her hand for an instant on Marti's arm. “I'm sorry, Marti,” she said. “I didn't expect—”
“It's okay,” Marti answered, but it wasn't. Her anger at Dr. Granberry burned inside her chest.
Their heels on the hard floors echoing like a loud tattoo, Karen followed Marti from the office, across the hall, and out the double doors of the main building. Once outside, Marti sighed and mumbled, “What is he trying to do?”
“I think that basically he's trying to do something worthwhile.”
Marti turned to her, surprised. “You do?”
“Yes, and I think you're trying to do something worthwhile too.”
“But we're both on different courses. It doesn't make sense.”
“The truth makes sense, and that's what we're looking for,” Karen said. She led the way down the steps. “I've got some information I can give you now. Remember, I told you I'd request a follow-up on the gun found at the scene? Okay. HPD came up with the name of the person who bought and registered the gun. It's going to surprise you.”
Marti put a hand ori Karen's arm. “If you don't mind coming with me,” she said, “I think there's someone you'd better talk t
o.”
CHAPTER • 11
At first Charlie was resentful. He slumped on the sofa, legs sticking out into the room, arid glared at Marti. “What I told you was confidential. I didn't know you were a snitch.”
“I'm not a snitch!” Marti retorted.
But Karen put up a hand to stop her and said, “Your name was on the gun's registration, Charlie. Marti didn't have to tell me that. I came to her with the information.”
Charlie squeezed his eyes tightly shut and groaned. “Why'd we do such a dumb thing?” he muttered.
“You can help yourself by being open with me,” Karen said. “Tell me what you told Marti last night, along with what you planned to tell her today.”
“I think you should,” Tony said. He wedged himself next to Charlie as though he were giving his friend moral support
Charlie, almost in a monotone, repeated what he had told Marti the night before.
When he'd finished, he looked defensively at Karen, as if he expected her criticism; but Karen-—who bad taken notes—simply looked, up from her notepad and said, “Let's talk about Thad Miller's arrest and conviction for armed robbery. Was this Rossi .22 the gun he used?”
Tony's eyes bulged, and Charlie's mouth worked like a newly caught fish just pulled from the water. “H-how'd you know?” Charlie stammered.
“I thought Thad used a toy gun!” Marti whispered, but Karen ignored her.
“Did the other Cuatros take part in the robbery?” Karen asked.
“No!” Tony and Charlie shouted in unison.
Charlie added, “Thad liked to do crazy stuff. He was always coming up with wild ideas. He kept saying that since we had a gun, we ought to use it, that it would be exciting to see what would happen. Aturst we thought he was just kidding. Then he started talking about all of us wearing ski masks and robbing the jewelry store, and a lot of other stuff like that, but we wouldn't go along with it.”
“Just like we said at the trial,” Tony added. “We didn't really think Thad was going to do it, either. We thought he was all talk.”
“I read the transcript,” Karen said. “At the trial Thad claimed it was a kind of initiation stunt he had to go through. You two and Barry denied it.”
“We denied it because Thad was lying,” Charlie said. “We weren't a gang. We didn't want to rob anybody. We told him that the robbery was a stupid idea.”
“That's the truth. I hope you believe us,” Tony said.
“How did Thad react when the three of you testified against him?”
“Just what you'd think. He didn't like it much. Neither did his family.” Tony hunched his shoulders, adding, “I remember the way they kept staring at us all through the trials.”
“Did Thad make any threats against any of you?”
“No.”
“Was he more angry at Barry than at either of you?”
Tony and Charlie glanced at each other. Charlie looked sick again. “T don't think so,” he mumbled.
Karen stared into Charlie's eyes as though she could see beyond them into his cache of secrets. “Were you aware that Thad planned to use the .22 in the robbery?”
“No,” Charlie said.
“When were you aware he had taken the gun?”
“None of this came up in the trial,” Charlie squirmed even lower oh the sofa.
“It doesn't matter. And please don't think you're on trial right now. We're just trying to sort out the facts and see what they add up to. Okay?”
Charlie was silent, and Marti could see his Adam's apple working. She tried to help him out. “At the trial,” she said, “Thad insisted it was a toy gun, and he said he'd thrown it into the bayou.”
“I've read the transcript,” Karen repeated.
“Oh, I—I f-forgot,” Marti stammered. She sank back against the cushions on the sofa, both impressed and intimidated by Karen's professional manner. When Karen was easygoing and friendly, Marti began to think of her as a friend. But now she was all business, a person very different from the smiling woman who liked diet colas. Could one of the Karens ever get lost inside the other and never come out again? Is this what it was like to be a cop?
“Charlie” Karen said in a no-nonsense voice, “suppose you answer my question now. When were you aware that Thad had taken the gun?”
“A few days after the robbery,” Charlie said, “when Thad brought it back.” He clapped the palms of his hands over his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut again. The others waited until he was able to continue.
“Thad was scared,” Charlie said. “According to Thad, the owner of the place where he'd stolen the jewelry kept staring at the gun, so Thad decided to get rid of it. He planned to throw it in the bayou, but he was afraid it might be recovered. He didn't want that to happen. If no one could produce a gun, Thad figured it would come down to just his word against the shop owner's, and he'd be better off.”
“Which he probably was,” Karen said. “Go on, Charlie. What arrangement did you make with Thad?”
Charlie put his hands down and looked at her through narrowed eyes.
“I'm not reading your mind,” she said. “I'm adding up facts to get answers. Please telime. What arrangement did you make?”
“I was the only one of the Cuatros who knew that Thad had used the gun,” Charlie said. “Barry and Tony were suspicious at first, after Thad was arrested, because Thad had wanted to use our .22, but when he kept insisting he'd used a toy gun, and I showed them the .22 still in the hiding place, they believed him.” He gulped hard and added, “I never told anyone what had happened—not until I saw that picture in the newspaper, when they wrote the story about Barry and found out that our gun was missing. Then I told Tony.”
Charlie squirmed upward ands cowled. “Hey, look! If they'd asked me about it at the trial, I might have said something, but no one but the Cuatros knew that we had that gun, so no one asked about it. I wasn't tying under oath. Nobody asked!”
“You don't have to defend yourself,” Karen said.
“Well, the way you're looking at me, you make me feel—” He didn't finish the sentence.
Marti broke in. “Why were you trying to protect Thad by not telling the truth about the gun? By trying to keep those photographs away from me so I wouldn't see the gun?”.
Charlie exploded, “We weren't trying to protect Thad We were trying to protect ourselves! I'm the one whose name is on the registration. If that had teoine out at the trial, all the Cuatros would have looked guilty. And if everyone knew that the gun that killed Barry was mine—” He leaned back and let out a grosto.
“When they found the gun with Barry,” Marti asked, “why didn't they qheek the registoation?”
“Since there was no evidence of foul play, there was no need to,” Karen answered. She waited a minute, then asked, “Is there anything else you #ant to tell us, Charlie?”
“That's it,” he said. “I told you everything.”
Karen turned her gaze on Tony. “How about you, Tony? Can you think of anything else?”
Tony shrugged and shook his head.
“Marti?”
“I have another question,” Marti said “Charlie, you didn't know that Thad had taken the gun.”
“That's what I already said. Weren't you listening?”
“I'm hot finished,” Marti complained. “What I'm getting; at is thist Did Thad get into your hottse while you and your parents weren't there, in order to get the gun? Or did someone let him in?”
“Nobody let him in. He told me he'd let himself in and taken the gun.”
“Aren't you and your parents in the habit of locking your doors?” Karen asked.
“Sure we lock the doors,” Charlie said. His eyes widened. “Oh. I see what you mean.”
Karen got up and left the room. They could hear her footsteps in the entry hall. When she returned she said, “No dead bolts. The kind of locks builders put in outside doors can be opened in two seconds by someone who knows what he's doing.”
“We har
dly ever have a burglary around here,” Tony said. “Nobody thinks about stuff like dead bolts.”
“I think we've covered everything for now,” Karen said. She gave her business cards to Tony and Charlie. “I appreciate your cooperation.”
“Am I going to get into trouble about keeping the gun for Thad?” Charlie asked as he stood to join the others. His shirt was wet with sweat.
“No,” Karen said.
“Do you think Thad could have come back?”
“I don't know,” she answered. “I traced his whereabouts, and I've talked to members of his family in the Austin area. They've given him a strong alibi.”
“So it wasn't Thad,” Marti murmured.
“I didn't say that,” Karen said. “Family members have been known to lie to protect one another.”
“It's a strange family,” Tony said.
“What do you mean?” Karen asked him.
“Well, I just mean that Thad was always full of wild ideas. He'd even do really dangerous stunts, like he didn't care what happened to him. Emmet—he's the brightest one, and his parents claim he's a genius— Emmet's so quiet and strange, he hardly ever talks to anybody. Sometimes whfen I was over at Thad's house, I'd start to feel uncomfortable and find Emmet had sneaked into the room and was staring at me. He could always make me feel creepy. And Thad's parents are … well, they're not friendly. They're always kind of formal and cold.”
Charlie nodded. “They might lie for Thad. All of them.”
Karen walked to the door, and they followed her. She ran one finger down the doorframe. “Tell your parents it would be a good idea to get dead bolts installed on your doors,” she said. “Tell them it's recommended by the Farrington Park Police Department.”
Charlie frowned as he said to Karen, “I don't like all this—all that you're doing. The police said that Barry committed suicide. So did the coroner. As far as I'm concerned, Barry's the one who took the gun from my house. He knew where it was. He could have. You haven't got any proof that he didn't kill himself, have you? All the proof seems to be that he did.”
Marti spoke up. “Proof? How can you ask about—”
Secret, Silent Screams Page 10
