Day of the Dead

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Day of the Dead Page 12

by Brenda Donelan


  “Did you get a chance to look around campus a bit?” asked Marlee, finally regaining her interviewing skills.

  “A little bit. Alice was kind enough to show me Logan’s office and introduce me to some of his colleagues. I also met his dean and took a tour of Scobey Hall,” Joe replied.

  “The students call Scobey Hall ‘The Maze’ because it’s so hard to navigate your way around all the twists and turns,” said Marlee with a smile. “Were you able to collect any of Logan’s belongings from his office?”

  “No, the police have everything under seal. The crime tape is over the door, but Alice had a key and let me just peek in so I could get a sense of Logan’s work space. I’ll be driving his car back home. The police said it was okay if I took it, since both of our names are on the title. They already searched it for evidence and clues and didn’t find anything,” said Joe.

  “So you talked to the police yesterday?” asked Marlee, fishing for details.

  “Yes. When they notified me of Logan’s death, I told them I would come to Elmwood right away. They asked that I come to the police department after my flight arrived,” Joe said.

  “What kind of things did they want to know?” Marlee inquired.

  “The detectives asked if Logan was depressed or suicidal. They wanted to know if we were having problems in our relationship, since he moved to South Dakota, and I stayed in California. They also had a bunch of questions about my whereabouts. The detectives asked if I knew of anyone who might want to hurt Logan or knew of anyone who would benefit from his death,” recalled Joe.

  Marlee waited patiently, hoping the silence would be enough to prompt Joe to reveal the answers to some of those questions himself. When that didn’t work, Marlee tried a blunt approach. “Forgive me for asking, but what did you tell them?”

  “It’s true that Logan and I were having some difficulties in our relationship. Every couple has times of ups and downs.” Alice, married for over thirty years, nodded in agreement as Joe continued. “Logan was not happy teaching at a community college back home in Santa Rosa and had very fond memories of his childhood summers here in South Dakota. He was thrilled when he was offered a position teaching French at MSU and didn’t think twice about accepting it. Being a nearly life-long resident of California, I wasn’t excited about moving anywhere, especially to an area with extreme cold. I knew he was unhappy at his work, and that made him unhappy with us, so I finally agreed that I would move here with him after he got settled in. Providing he liked it here, that is,” said Joe.

  “So how long have you lived in California?” asked Marlee.

  “Since I was a child. My family moved there before I started school, so California has really been the only home I’ve ever known.”

  “How long have you and Logan been together?” queried Marlee.

  “We met over twenty five years ago and were just friends at first. We’ve been together since 1982, so I guess that would be twenty two years. We lived together the whole time except when he moved to South Dakota in August,” said Joe.

  “What do you think happened to Logan?” asked Marlee. She didn’t like grilling Joe since he just lost his partner but knew he was one of the few sources of information about Logan, and that he would be leaving the area soon. Joe was a source. Marlee just wasn’t sure how good a source he would be, given that he could very well be the person responsible for Logan’s death.

  “It wasn’t suicide–I can tell you that with one hundred percent assurance!” Joe shouted, looking back and forth between Alice and Marlee.

  “Do the police think it was suicide?” Marlee asked. “I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but a professor on campus talked to the chief of police and seemed to think he might be leaning toward the suicide angle.”

  “They had a lot of questions about his mental stability. It’s true that Logan was on anti-depressants. He battled with depression most of his adult life and regularly sought help from a therapist, but he’s never attempted suicide or even mentioned it. When he would get really down, he usually needed to have his medication adjusted and re-start therapy,” Joe replied. “I can’t believe the detectives are seriously considering this a suicide. The coroner ruled it a homicide, so I don’t know why the police don’t see it the same way.”

  “Logan was right-handed, as I understand it?” asked Marlee.

  “Yes, he was. He wasn’t at all ambidextrous, so the idea that he could use either hand to shoot himself is completely false,” said Joe. Marlee was surprised by this statement. She never even considered the notion that Logan might not have had a dominant hand and could use either with the same level of efficiency.

  “Do you know anything about the gun that was used?” asked Marlee.

  “No, I don’t. I’ve never seen it before. Logan hated guns, and I know it wasn’t his. In twenty two years of living together, I think I would’ve known if he had a gun in the house,” Joe stated.

  “Did anyone back in California have a motive to kill Logan?” Marlee asked.

  “No way,” said Joe. “He was a quiet and private person. We had five couples we’d been friends with for years. Logan got along with everyone. I can’t think of one person who didn’t like him.”

  “Did he mention having problems with anyone here in Elmwood since he moved here?” Marlee asked.

  “He commented about a few people giving him some trouble, but he didn’t name names. Logan said there was a student in his class who seemed a bit obsessed with him. This student wasn’t doing very well in the class and dropped it after a few weeks. Still, he kept bumping into Logan all over campus and all over town, which Logan didn’t think was a coincidence. He also showed up at Logan’s apartment a few times.”

  “Was this student stalking him?” Marlee asked, as she tried to maintain her composure. It wasn’t typical behavior for a student to go to the home of a professor. It crossed many ethical boundaries, and most profs were good about keeping a professional distance between themselves and those they taught. If a student didn’t respect these boundaries, however, a professor was somewhat limited in the action he or she could take.

  “I don’t know if it went to that extreme. I know this kid made Logan feel uncomfortable, and Logan said he told the kid to stop coming over to his apartment,” said Joe.

  “Do you know why the student went to Logan’s apartment in the first place?” Marlee asked.

  “He said something about wanting to get extra help so he could pass Logan’s class. Logan told him they could speak about it on campus but not at his home during his personal time. Logan told me that he made it clear that he would not meet with students at home. He never did when he taught in California either. After the kid dropped Logan’s class, he came back to the apartment wondering if he could have some private tutoring so he could enroll in the class next semester and have better results. Again, Logan told him they could only have contact on campus,” Joe replied.

  “How did the student react when Logan refused to see him at his home?” Marlee inquired.

  “I guess he kept insisting that he only wanted to learn from Logan and thought he was a great professor. Logan said the kid kept trying to talk his way inside both times but finally turned away when Logan held firm.”

  “Do you think he had a romantic interest in Logan? Marlee asked.

  “I asked him the same thing,” said Joe. “Logan wasn’t sure of the kid’s intentions. He said the kid seemed a bit out of it at times. Logan didn’t know if he was on drugs, or if he had some physical problems or emotional issues. I wish he’d told me the kid’s name, but he never wanted to breach confidentiality where a student was concerned. I always respected that about him.”

  Marlee nodded. This sounded just like what little she knew of Logan. He was a professor. He held students and his occupation in high regard. “Was anyone else causing him problems in town, Joe?”

  “There was a guy in his apartment building who made some gay slurs right to his face and told him to go back t
o Fairyland,” said Joe. “Logan was upset by the nasty comments and tried to keep his distance from that guy. He lived on another floor, so Logan didn’t have much reason to see him. He told me the guy’s first name, but I don’t remember what it was. I’ll have to think on it. The guy usually just ignored Logan unless he was drunk and with his buddies. Then he felt like a big man, insulting Logan when his friends were there to watch and laugh.”

  “Wow, having problems with two separate people in just two months seems like a lot of drama for one person to endure,” said Marlee.

  “It was. He had some sleepless nights over it. There were also two guys from the gay community here in Elmwood who invited him out for drinks a couple of times. He went out with them a few times but then found out that one of them was interested in him… sexually, so he didn’t hang out with them anymore,” said Joe.

  “Really?” asked Alice, frowning and shaking her head. She couldn’t understand how so many negative things were going on in Logan’s life, and she didn’t know a thing about any of them.

  “Who were the guys he had drinks with? Did he mention them by name?” Marlee asked.

  “Clyde and Darren were their names. I think Clyde was a nickname. Logan never mentioned their last names. What really bothered me about them is that Logan felt uncomfortable with them even before Darren expressed his romantic interest,” Joe recalled.

  “How so?” asked Marlee.

  “They referred to getting beaten up and beating up other people. He was kind of scared, from a safety perspective,” Joe stated.

  “You mean they were victims of hate crimes and retaliated against some people who hurt them?” asked Marlee, comfortable with this topic since she’d spent several years researching various types of hate crimes. She knew violence against gays was prevalent.

  “No, not hate crimes against them. Clyde and Darren talked about the violence within the gay community toward other gays,” stated Joe.

  “What?” Marlee asked. She was aware that domestic violence occurred in same-sex relationships just as it did among heterosexual couples, but she hadn’t heard anything about violence within the gay community.

  “Both of those guys talked about violence, which was basically among the males and over romantic jealousies. One guy would be jealous when someone else would become involved with a guy he was interested in, and a brawl would ensue. Sometimes it would be a group that targeted one man,” reported Joe.

  “Wow, I’ve never heard anything about this,” said Marlee. Alice nodded her head in agreement. “You mean Logan could have been killed by Clyde, Darren or some other guys who were themselves gay and sought revenge when Logan refused their advances?”

  “I don’t know if that’s the case, but it sounds like a possibility, given what Logan told me,” Joe stated.

  “I don’t mean to be indelicate, Joe,” Marlee said, “but is it possible that Logan was involved with someone else while he was here in Elmwood?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Joe. “Logan would have told me if he wanted out of the relationship. We had our problems, but communication between us was good.”

  “But what if he didn’t want out of the relationship but just became lonely while he was here alone? I’m not suggesting that’s what happened, but he certainly wouldn’t be the first person to have an affair while his partner was out of the area,” Marlee stated. She knew she was on shaky ground and hoped her comments wouldn’t cause Joe to shut down completely.

  Joe didn’t speak but reached for his jacket hanging on the back of his chair. At first it appeared as though he was going to stand up and leave, but he was just reaching for his wallet in his coat pocket. He pulled out a picture of him and Logan and two giant white dogs with long wavy fur. The picture was taken outside. Both were smiling and had their arms draped around each other and the dogs. “This picture was taken at a barbeque our friends held two days before Logan left for South Dakota. He was happy. We were both happy, and I don’t think he would’ve done anything to jeopardize that. He was unhappy with his career in California, which made him restless. I don’t think he was unhappy with me or our relationship. He just wanted a new career and location.” Joe looked more hurt by this line of inquiry than offended.

  “I’m sorry, Joe. I just had to ask. Forgive me for being insensitive. I’m just trying to consider all possibilities,” Marlee stumbled over her words.

  “It’s fine. I understand,” Joe said, although it didn’t look at all like he understood this line of questioning. “I think it’s time for me to go back to my hotel and rest for a bit. It’s been a tough couple of days, and I think everything is catching up to me.

  “Of course,” said Marlee. “You must be exhausted from the shock of Logan’s death, the trip, all the questions and everything else. You two go on ahead. I’ve got the bill covered.”

  After some initial resistance over Marlee’s offer to pay the lunch bill, they both expressed their gratitude before standing and putting on their jackets. Joe extended his hand to Marlee and again expressed his pleasure in meeting her.

  “Alice, you’ll take Joe to his hotel?” asked Marlee, glancing at her watch and noticing it was well after one o’clock, when Alice needed to be back at work.

  “No, he drove his rental car to campus, so I’ll just give him a ride back to MSU. I told Dean Green that I might be a bit late getting back to the office because I was going out to lunch with you two,” she said, gathering up her purse.

  “You told the dean that I was having lunch with you and Joe?” Marlee asked with a catch in her voice.

  “Yep, sure did. And he didn’t seem to have a problem at all with me being late getting back from lunch,” stated Alice.

  After her warning from the dean this morning, she was not pleased to hear that he knew about her lunch meeting with Logan LeCroix’s partner. Oh, shit! thought Marlee, wringing her hands and already making up a story for the inevitable confrontation with the dean.

  Midwestern State University and Elmwood need a crash course in sensitivity training. People around here describe themselves as nice. Slurs, prejudice and discrimination seem anything but nice.

  Chapter 14

  After paying the bill and leaving a moderate tip for the waitress, Marlee left the Chit Chat and drove home. It was early afternoon and she had time to talk with more people, but she needed to process all the information she just learned from Joe. Plus, Diane would be returning to her house in an hour or two, and Marlee wanted to discuss her findings. It always helped to talk it out with Diane and springboard ideas off of her. As Marlee entered her house, she caught a whiff of something rotten. Nearing the trash can in the corner of the kitchen, she realized that it had been days since she’d last taken out the garbage. Her elderly neighbor next door was known to dig in the garbage bins in the area, so Marlee hauled her garbage out to the garage and would keep it there until garbage pickup day. She didn’t have anything embarrassing or incriminating in her garbage, but she didn’t want the old man next door to be rummaging through her rubbish.

  Marlee re-entered her house and eliminated the lingering odor by spraying Febreze all around the kitchen. That was the maximum amount of house cleaning she intended to do for the day. Moving to the kitchen table, she sat down and began to compile everything she had learned from Joe. She was finishing up her notes when she heard scratching and pounding at the back door. Nearly jumping out of her skin, she quickly made her way to the large window overlooking the deck. Perhaps she could see who or whatever was making all the racket. Marlee caught a glimpse of a tattered green bag and realized that Diane was back from campus.

  Diane entered the back door with her green book bag over her shoulder, carrying two large plastic bags brimming with food. She grinned as she set the bags down by the refrigerator. “I thought I’d make us supper tonight,” she said. “I hope it’s okay if I stay for another couple of days.”

  “Hey, if you’re cooking, you can stay as long as you like,” Marlee said, thankfu
l that she would not have to come up with a menu for that evening and equally thankful that the meal would consist of something other than candy and wine.

  After putting away the groceries and doing some minor preparation for supper, Diane entered the dining room and sat at the table with Marlee. “Have I got some news for you!” exclaimed Marlee. “First, the dean knows about my sleuthing and yelled at me while I was in Asshat’s office. He basically threatened to can me if I keep asking questions about Logan.”

  “Whoa! Are you serious? He really did that?” asked Diane, furrowing her brow with such force that her dark-rimmed glasses slide down her nose half an inch.

  “Yep, and then he laid into Asshat after I left. I didn’t hear much because I was busy getting the hell out of there. Before that, Asshat told me he thinks the police believe Logan killed himself. Of course, who knows if that’s accurate, or if he just wants to think the police share his beliefs?” said Marlee. “Before talking to Asshat, I met with Kendra Rolland, and she wouldn’t tell me anything about the campus cameras or the film footage of the night Logan was killed. I went over to talk to Stan Shepherd at the physical plant, but he got a call from Kendra just as we were talking. She told him not to say anything to anybody about the cameras. I’m guessing she then called the dean, and that’s how he knew I’d been snooping around.”

  “You had an eventful morning,” said Diane as she shifted some of her books from her book bag to the table.

 

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