Taylor took a deep breath. She had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well. “She’s still at the medical examiner’s office, sir. We had to do an autopsy to see...”
Mrs. Kincaid lost it. “You cut our baby open? How could you do that?” She started crying. Her husband put a hand on her arm. She immediately quieted.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but her death was ruled a homicide by the medical examiner at the scene. We’re required by law to conduct an autopsy.” Taylor hated having to give that pat line to a child’s parents, but there was no way to cushion the blow. “There was no identification found with the body, so in order to obtain an identification we had to follow protocol. That’s how we found out who she was. I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
Mrs. Kincaid reached for a tissue and buried her face in it, dignified sobs leaking out. Again her husband squeezed her arm. Taylor didn’t think it was meant in a kindly way. She got the impression he was uncomfortable with open displays of emotion, which seemed interesting for a man of the cloth.
“Lieutenant, Detective Wade said Shelby was murdered. Who did it? I want to know who killed our baby.”
“We don’t know yet, sir, but we’re doing our very best to find the killer and arrest him. We have some evidence that will be helpful...”
“DNA?”
The advent of TV cop shows made every layman an expert in criminal investigations.
Taylor nodded. “Yes, sir, we do have some DNA evidence.”
The light went out of his eyes, and he rubbed his chin. “Was she raped?”
Taylor didn’t want to go into detail. “We believe that may be the case, sir, but we won’t have any answers until the laboratory results come back.”
“How was she murdered, Lieutenant?” Mrs. Kincaid had finished crying. Taylor could see the steel creeping back into her eyes. When Taylor didn’t answer immediately, the woman’s voice softened. “It’s only fair that we should know. Was she shot? Strangled?”
“No, ma’am. There were no obvious signs to tell us how she died. The medical examiner is doing a number of tests to see what killed your daughter. We won’t know anything until the toxicology reports come back.”
Mr. Kincaid jumped in again, cutting his wife off. “You don’t know what killed her? Then how do you know she was murdered?”
Taylor decided honesty was the best policy. “Shelby was found at the Parthenon, sir, with no clothes on and signs that she’d been raped. The scene felt staged. Until the tests are back, I’m afraid that’s as much as I know at this point. You’ll be the first to hear when we find something conclusive. Can you tell us a little bit about your daughter?”
Mr. Kincaid gave her a dirty look. “There’s nothing to know. Shelby was a good girl. She didn’t drink. She didn’t do drugs. She worked hard for her grades. She was on scholarship. What exactly are you asking?”
In spite of his escalating tone, Taylor gave him a reassuring smile. “Sir, I meant nothing by the remark. The better I know your daughter, the quicker I can find her killer. Do you know if she was seeing anyone, had a boyfriend at school?”
Mr. Kincaid jumped in quickly. “She didn’t have time for a boyfriend.”
His wife looked at Taylor and said softly, “She would have told me. We are—were—very close.” She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay in control. “When can we see our daughter, Lieutenant? When can we take her home?”
Shelby’s parents weren’t going to be much help. She got the feeling that even if Shelby did have a boyfriend, Mr. Kincaid wouldn’t know about it. Though she may have confided in her mother... Taylor made a mental note to follow up with her privately.
“I’ll have an officer take you to the medical examiner’s office. They won’t be able to release the b—Shelby until there is a definitive cause of death, but there are things that need to be taken care of. Marcus? Could you arrange to have Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid taken over to the ME’s office?” He nodded and left the room silently.
Taylor pulled a card out of her wallet. “I’ll probably need to speak with you again, at a more appropriate time, of course. In the meantime, if you think of anything that may be helpful, please call me.” She started to hand the card to Mrs. Kincaid, but Mr. Kincaid reached out and grabbed it.
“Thank you for your help, Lieutenant. We’d like to see our daughter now.”
“Of course, sir.”
Marcus stuck his head in and nodded. “I have an officer ready to escort you there.”
Taylor stood and put out a hand. Mr. Kincaid looked past it, but Mrs. Kincaid reached out, barely touching her fingers to Taylor’s. They were shaking.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.” She followed her husband out.
Taylor sat back at the table, cradling her head in her hands. Marcus came back in and sat across from her.
“So, what do you think?”
“Well, I think Mrs. Kincaid knows more than she’s saying. Maybe we should take a run at her without her husband.”
“I agree,” Taylor said. “He shot the boyfriend issue down awfully quick. Maybe Shelby confided in her mother and left Daddy out of the loop. Let’s give them a few days. It’s possible Mrs. Kincaid will get in touch with us.”
“So what now?”
“What now? Let’s take the subpoena on over to Vandy and see what we can dig up about Shelby.”
10
Marcus was quiet on the drive to the campus, and Taylor let him stew in his thoughts until they reached the parking lot.
“What’s on your mind, Marcus?” There was no answer. “Helloo. Earth to Marcus.” She poked his knee and he jumped.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Taylor. Lost in my own little world.”
“And what’s happening in your little world?”
“I don’t know. I’m getting a weird vibe.”
“That narrows it down. Care to explain?”
He sighed and looked out the window. “I don’t really know. When we talked to Shelby’s parents, they seemed rather emphatic that she was all work and no play. Seems to me a preacher’s kid away from home for the first time may have gotten herself into a little bit of trouble here or there.”
“You’re probably right. Let’s go see if she’s really been their sweet little girl.”
The campus was lit with the colors of fall, fallen leaves strewn across the quads. It seemed serene, tranquil, untouched by the tragedy. Boys played football, and coeds watched them in admiration; students rode their bikes down the street, calling to one another. It was so bucolic, it almost made her nervous. Picture-postcard perfect—the calm before the storm. Clearly news hadn’t spread about the murder. Taylor didn’t know if she’d rather they panic or be unaffected.
They got out of the car and walked to Kirkland Hall, the college’s administration building. Sitting on a stone bench in front of the edifice was a man in his early forties. He had a thick mustache, matching light blond hair, and a shiny badge pinned to the front of his pristine tan uniform. Taylor groaned aloud. The man smiled and gave them a little wave. He didn’t get up, just sat with his legs spread wide in front of him, a small manila folder sitting quietly next to him.
Taylor tried for politeness. “Chief Graber. How are you this fine morning?”
“Not well, not well at all. I assume you’re here because one of my students is dead, and you’ve come to give your condolences. To apologize that no one from Metro bothered to contact me when you discovered the Parthenon girl was a Vandy student. To ask for any and all cooperation my police force can give to your investigation. That about sum it up?”
Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Graber wasn’t going to make this easy. She softened her tone.
“Chief... Charles. You know that the past twenty-four hours have been a madhouse. We’ve only known that Shelby Kincaid was a Vandy student sin
ce—”
“Since you ID’d her body, yesterday. For God’s sake, Taylor, did you think I wasn’t going to find out?” Graber jumped up and started to pace the portico. He had a strange gait. One leg seemed to snap in front of him as he walked. Taylor saw Marcus staring and decided it was the perfect moment to introduce him.
“Marcus Wade, I’d like you to meet Charles Graber, chief of the Vanderbilt Campus Police. And a royal pain in my ass.”
“I guess you two already know each other?” Marcus asked.
“Since ninth grade. She dated my little brother at Father Ryan. Broke his heart, too.”
Graber’s tone wasn’t lost on the young detective, and Taylor went crimson under Marcus’s grin.
“Charles, please. Now isn’t the time. We need to focus on Shelby Kincaid. We have a court order for her records. I figured the school’s administration wasn’t going to be terribly cooperative, so we’ve preempted them.”
Graber picked up the manila folder. “And I figured you’d be thorough enough not to show up empty-handed. Here, I’ll trade you.” He handed her the folder. Taylor nodded sharply at Marcus, who pulled out the legal documents from his inside coat pocket. He handed them to Graber, who didn’t even glance at the paperwork.
“I can save you some time, Taylor. I know my way around this campus better than you do. I’m happy to help.”
Taylor caught the note in his voice, and couldn’t help but feel for the man. His campus police were much more than glorified security guards. They had all the powers of a metro police force, only with a smaller area to govern. But he had no jurisdiction over this particular crime. Taylor knew he didn’t want the glory. He was genuinely sorry that one of the school’s students had been murdered. But it was her case, and she wanted to run it her way. And she owed him nothing but civility. He still held a grudge, about his brother, and other things, and she tired quickly of his relentless barbs.
“Tell you what. If we run into trouble, I’ll give you a call, have you smooth the road. Sound okay?”
“Hell, Taylor, when have you ever had any trouble smoothin’ the road? You’ve got a gun. You can shoot your way clear. You do it enough. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
Taylor bit her lip, forced herself not to respond. He gave her half a smile, turned his back, and walked away. The hitch in his walk was more pronounced from behind.
Marcus looked at Taylor. “Another friend of David Martin?”
She shook her head. “Yeah.”
“Jerk.”
She wanted to smile, but opened the folder in front of her and read quickly, pleased her voice didn’t waver.
“Okay, Marcus, she was in Carmichael Towers East. The roommate’s name is Vicki Chen. Let’s go have a chat with her.”
They set off across the quad, leaves crackling beneath their feet. Shaking off Graber’s comments, Taylor looked around at the young and carefree as they simply existed. They had nothing more serious to worry about than their next test, their next meal, their next party. No dead bodies lined up in rows at the morgue, no bugs crawling through eye sockets, no sense of their own mortality. Maybe they didn’t watch the news, or if they had heard that one of their own was cooling rapidly in a coffin-sized refrigerator, they simply didn’t care.
Taylor sensed the anxiety creeping up her spine. There was nothing she could do to keep any of them safe. She couldn’t stop the rapes, the murders, the abuse. The thematic judgments began rolling through her brain. I can’t help. I can’t stop them; when one goes down, another meaner and uglier one pops up in its place. Why am I doing this anymore? Why, why, why do I even want to be a cop anymore?
She was starting to hyperventilate. Marcus was looking at her strangely. She felt light-headed, but refused to make an ass out of herself in front of her youngest detective. She bent down, looking to anyone who cared as if she were tying her shoe.
“Too bad cowboy boots don’t have laces,” she murmured. She sucked in a couple of breaths, felt her heart slow. Looked up at Marcus, gave him a halfhearted smile. He smiled back quizzically, but didn’t ask if she was okay. She wasn’t, but she’d never admit it to him. She wouldn’t admit it to anyone.
11
Shelby Kincaid, by all accounts, was the good girl her parents insisted she was.
Her roommate, Vicki Chen, met them in the dorm room they’d shared. Chen was pretty, with long, dark hair; small, rectangular glasses; jeans tucked into a pair of brown UGGs, the tops of which were turned down to show the interior fleece. She looked like every other student on the Vanderbilt campus.
And she was devastated by her friend’s loss.
“I just don’t understand how this could happen. She was happy, she was working hard, we had tickets for R.E.M., for God’s sake. You know how quickly that show sold out? She had no reason to wander off.”
Taylor had asked Marcus to talk so he could get more interview experience. With a nod from her, he kept pushing.
“Wander off?”
Chen waved a hand in the air. “She must have, to cross paths with a killer. This is Vanderbilt. It’s Nashville. It’s safe here. That’s why all of our parents want us to go to this school, because it’s so safe.”
Taylor wanted to tell her it wasn’t true—there were no safe schools, safe places. Death could strike anywhere, anyone. But she bit her tongue.
“Tell me more about Shelby’s personality, Vicki. What was she like?” Marcus asked.
“Shy. Quiet. She spent most of her time in the library. She was an engineering student, a damn good one. Straight A’s every semester, carrying a 4.0 GPA. She had to keep the scholarship—her parents can’t afford to send her here.”
“What is tuition now?” Taylor asked.
“We’re at thirty-one thousand, and that’s only tuition, doesn’t include books and meals and housing. It’s gotten very expensive to attend Vandy, and the scholarship kids depend on the help. Shelby had a full academic ride, and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it.”
“So she’s a good student,” Marcus said. “What else?”
Chen played with the tips of her hair. “Shelby was popular with her teachers, and she seemed happy most of the time. Content. She was pretty homesick, though. She called home several times a week. No car, so she couldn’t head back there on weekends like some of the local students do.”
“How’d she get around?”
“The kindness of strangers. Oh my God, I didn’t mean that. I meant friends. I’m sorry, she just kept to herself so much, didn’t let people in. Even me. She wasn’t super close to anyone here.”
“What was she doing in the days leading up to her disappearance?”
“Nothing. The girl led a pretty dull life. She stayed on campus for the fall break, but most of us do, it’s party time for four days straight. For Shelby, it was extra time to study. She had exams coming up, and preparing was her main focus for the weekend.”
Marcus took a note. “And when was the last time you saw her?”
“Friday night. I talked her into coming to dinner at Willy’s Diner. You know the place, right? It’s easy to walk to, cheap, pretty popular. I practically dragged her kicking and screaming—she didn’t want to waste the cash. But she’d been working so hard, I knew it would be good for her to get out. We hit Willy’s at 6:45 p.m. Around eight, I noticed Shelby hadn’t come back to the table after a bathroom break. I didn’t think much about it—we’d already paid, were just hanging out at that point. I actually laughed it off, figured she’d gone back to the room.” She bowed her head. “I am such a jerk. If I’d paid more attention, maybe she’d still be alive.”
Marcus soothed her. “You can’t think like that, Vicki. It sounds to me you were doing all you could to look out for your roommate.”
A few tears trickled down her face. “Yeah, well, it
wasn’t enough, was it? I got back at eleven thirty or so. Shelby wasn’t here, so I assumed she’d gone back to the library. In the morning, no Shelby, and her bed was untouched. Around lunchtime, I went to the library to check on her, wondering if she’d fallen asleep in the carrels. She wasn’t there. I called Metro, but they told me she’d have to be missing for at least twenty-four hours before they could get involved. I didn’t want to call her parents—I was afraid I’d freak them out. She could have been anywhere, you know? By the time Metro would talk to me about filing a report, you’d already found her.”
“What about a boyfriend?” Taylor asked. “Was she seeing anyone?”
She could see the hesitation on Chen’s face, though she answered quickly. Too quickly.
“Are you kidding? Shelby wouldn’t have any time for a boyfriend. I’ve never seen her in the company of any of the men on campus.”
The answer was so pat, so confident, so final, Taylor didn’t buy it. Especially when Chen started to cry in earnest, almost as if she wanted to distract them.
“You’re sure about this? Is it possible she was seeing someone and simply hadn’t told you?”
Chen shook her head, wiping the tears from her face with a red bandana. “No. No way.”
Taylor gave Marcus the whirlybird finger. Time to wrap it up.
He stood, handed the girl a card. “Thank you for your time, Miss Chen. Please call us immediately if you remember anything relevant.”
Taylor and Marcus left the sobbing Chen and wandered back into the quad. Taylor spotted two boys smoking, walked over to bum a cigarette. Marcus watched her with concern, and she gave him a wink. The only time she smoked anymore was when she was really stressed out, but she tried to give him a carefree attitude as cover. Quitting was awful. She felt bad enough about her occasional slips without disapproving glances from her teammates.
She walked back to him, knew he’d seen her slide the spare behind her ear. Appreciated the lack of comment.
Field of Graves Page 6
