Day of the Dead
Page 22
“It will be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but yes, I want to meet with you after the service. The sooner we find out what happened to Logan, the better,” said Joe.
After finalizing the details of their plan, Marlee gave Joe a ride back to his rental car in the police station parking lot. “Be careful, and keep your doors locked,” Joe warned, fearful that the author of the note on Marlee’s car might resort to violence.
As Marlee was exiting the police department parking lot, she spied Vince Chipperton, Nate Krause’s probation officer, walking toward the entrance of the police department. She caught up to him, hoping he would share some information on Nate. Marlee always found herself tongue-tied around Vince Chipperton because he was so damn good-looking. He was one of those guys who was humble because he didn’t realize how attractive he was, which made him even more attractive.
After sputtering out a greeting and stumbling through some small talk, Marlee asked, “I’ve been hearing Nate Krause’s name mentioned in connection with Logan LeCroix’s death. I talked to Nate, and he said you make him go to counseling sessions. I was wondering what you can tell me about him. Do you think Nate could be involved?”
“Why do you want to know? I heard it was ruled a suicide.” said Vince.
“I know it’s unorthodox for a professor to be asking questions about a person on probation, but I just want to make sure everything is being done to get justice for Logan. I don’t think it was suicide and a lot of other people I talked to don’t think it is either,” replied Marlee.
Vince held Marlee’s gaze with his light crystal blue eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know. Nate has some violence in his background, but I just don’t see him killing anyone. He’s got a lot of problems, most of them mental. He acts weird. He dresses weird. It’s easy for people to look at him when things go wrong.”
“Thanks, Chipper,” said Marlee, using his familiar nickname. They spent another minute discussing the weather before leaving the PD entrance and each going their own way.
It was late afternoon when Marlee arrived home, still thinking of Vince Chipperton and his dreamy blue eyes. Her answering machine light was blinking and showed four people had called her. The first call was from her doctor’s office reminding her that it was time for her yearly physical. The second call was a recorded promotional offer from Weight Watchers. The third call was an irate Dean Green ordering her to meet with him the following morning.
The fourth call was a raspy voice, possibly disguised, that said, “Mind your own business, bitch, or you’ll be sorry!”
Cutting corners is nothing new. Since the beginning of time, people have looked for ways to do things more easily and more quickly… even if it’s not entirely ethical.
Chapter 25
Could this day get any shittier? Marlee was the recipient of a menacing note, a threatening phone call and a whole lot of condescension by the chief of police. To top it all off, she was on the dean’s radar again and she guessed it was not for positive reasons. Marlee was surprised at herself. Usually any one of those things would have ruined her day, but today she was focused on finding out who killed Logan LeCroix and why. She was getting closer to the truth. She could feel it in her bones.
Too bad it hadn’t reached her head yet.
Marlee placed a call to Bettina Crawford at the police department to follow up on their conversation over supper from a few nights ago. It was her day off, so Marlee called her at home. “So how was the hot date?” Marlee asked after Bettina answered the phone.
“Awful. He chews with his mouth wide open; he talks about himself constantly; and, I think he farted at the table while I was eating,” groaned Bettina.
“Gross! Are you going on a second date?” Marlee teased.
“Hell, no!” shouted Bettina. She was looking for a boyfriend, but she wasn’t desperate–at least, not that desperate.
Marlee laughed and launched into some questions about the suicide ruling. Bettina did not believe it herself and was quick to say so. “There are a lot of us at the station that are furious over this. There wasn’t enough conclusive evidence to indicate this was a suicide, and the chief should know better.”
“Do you know anything about a short story that was found on Logan’s desk top computer at work?” asked Marlee.
“No, I haven’t heard anything about that. Why?” Bettina’s voice rose an octave, suggesting that she was puzzled but intrigued.
Marlee filled her in on the details revealed by the chief earlier that day. Bettina let out a long slow whistle. “Wow, that’s just crazy. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“If this is part of his conclusive proof, then why wasn’t this information known around the police station? I get why maybe the chief wouldn’t release it publicly, but it’s outrageous that it wouldn’t be released to other members of the department,” said Marlee.
“He knows a lot of us don’t support his decision. It seems to me that, if this story propped up his theory of suicide, he would want us all to know,” said Bettina.
“Hey, did you find out anything about the guys I told you about who said they would beat up men who rejected their romantic advances?” asked Marlee, realizing that she hadn’t heard anything more on this rumor.
“From what I’ve heard, these guys were probably just telling Logan that to scare him. No one I talked to has heard of a group of gay men beating up other gay men,” said Bettina.
“So, you think it’s safe to cross that theory off the list?” asked Marlee.
“Yeah, I think so,” said Bettina. “I think they were just giving the new guy in town a hard time. They probably had a good laugh at Logan’s expense over that one.”
“Um, I had a threatening phone call and a threatening note on my car today.” Marlee filled Bettina in on the circumstances, at which time Bettina went through a check list of safety precautions for Marlee to follow.
“What can you tell me about Chief Langdon?” asked Marlee, after they had finished with the topic of threatening communications.
“He’s a dick,” said Bettina without a moment’s hesitation.
“Um, I already know that. I mean, why did he come to Elmwood if he held a chief of police position in Butte, Montana? Why leave one chief’s position for another? Did he have family here or some sort of ties to the area?” asked Marlee.
“I’ve never gotten a clear answer on this. There were a few different explanations, but one thing that was mentioned three or four times was that the chief got in some trouble at his old job,” reported Bettina.
“In legal trouble?” asked Marlee.
“No, I think it was trouble over how he did his job. Apparently it was a huge scandal and he left shortly afterward, according to the people at the station who told me about it. I bet if you look on the Internet you can find some details on it,” suggested Bettina.
“That’s a brilliant idea, Bettina! I’ll do that right now.” Marlee said, excited to find out some dirt on the chief of police. She knew she was being childish, wanting to find some negative information on him, but she couldn’t help herself. They said their goodbyes and Bettina reminded Marlee to be careful since she was on the radar of someone who either killed Logan or knew who did.
Marlee went into her home office and sat before her computer. She went to a search engine and typed in the name of the town and state where the chief lived along with his first and last names. Bingo! The local newspaper had article after article on William “Bill” Langdon, and it was evident he had been embroiled in a scandal at his previous place of employment. According to the newspaper, a young gay man was found dead in Franklin Park in Butte, Montana. He had a bullet wound to his head, and the firearm was found at the scene. After a brief investigation, Chief Langdon ruled it a suicide and closed the case. Evidence was brought to light by the deceased’s parents that suggested it was a hate crime. The chief refused to reopen the case. The deceased’s parents were politically well-connected and were able to get the stat
e attorney general’s office to look into the matter. An investigation initiated by the AG’s office located two suspects, who later pled guilty to shooting the young man because he was a homosexual. The city was in an uproar, and Chief Langdon resigned before he could be removed from office. Two months later, he was employed as the chief of police in Elmwood, South Dakota.
Logan LeCroix’s death wasn’t the first time that the chief had ruled the questionable death of a gay man as a suicide.
After supper, Marlee pulled some files out of her book bag. She needed to go over some information for a meeting that she had just realized she had the next morning. Cheating on college campuses was nothing new, but a new type of cheating was running rampant at MSU, and most other colleges throughout the nation. It involved buying and selling papers over the Internet. There were several websites devoted to selling term papers to students, who through a lack of ability, time, or work ethic, were unable to write them on their own. Students merely had to indicate the topic, the length of the paper and the manner in which the sources had to be cited. Upon acceptance of their credit card payments, the students would receive “their” term papers within a few days. For students who had waited until the last minute and were willing to pay more, papers could be emailed to them in a few hours. Students could even indicate the grade they wanted on a paper, knowing that if they were failing the class, turning in an A paper would bring undue scrutiny. Online paper mills were earning big bucks by selling the same papers over and over, sometimes to students at the same university.
In addition to some students at MSU buying papers, others were selling them to paper mill websites. Students who were proficient at writing could submit their work to one of the paper mills and earn over $100 for it. It was rumored that some students were paying for a large portion of their tuition by selling papers. Not all of them actually wrote the papers they submitted to the paper mills. Students apparently made copies of their friends’ and roommates’ papers, unbeknownst to the actual authors. The matter had been exposed at the end of last semester when two students were caught submitting identical papers in an English Composition class, papers that the professor had actually recalled from the semester prior. When confronted, these two students eventually came clean and provided limited details on the cheating scam. Unfortunately, the two students who were caught refused to name anyone else on campus who was involved in buying from or selling papers to paper mills.
Before Marlee went to bed, she re-checked all of her doors to make sure they were locked. She was not overly worried about the note and the call, but there was no point in tempting fate. The night did not bring the sleep she needed, as she tossed and turned for hours. As soon as she heard the newspaper slide into the mail slot on her house at 5:30 a.m., Marlee bounded out of bed to check what the local news reporters had discovered. There was a recap of the chief’s announcement of suicide, along with an editorial about Chief Langdon failing to notify the Elmwood Examiner of major news items, like findings in a death investigation. The editorial further called into question whether or not there was something that the chief did not want the citizens of Elmwood to know. Hell hath no fury like a newspaper scorned.
Her house was a pig pen, so Marlee did some cleaning and washed an overflowing sink full of dishes before going to campus. Her career and many other aspects of her life were in chaos, but at least she had a clean and orderly house. She arrived on campus shortly before 8:00 a.m. and tried to decide what to do first. She needed to meet with Alice about a key to Logan’s office also with Sanjay from the computer center about helping to untangle some of the computer nuances that she and Joe knew nothing about. What she dreaded the most was the meeting with Dean Green. She decided to get it over with, so she marched to his office.
The dean’s secretary, Louise, was at her desk organizing piles of paperwork that the dean and faculty members left for her to sort, mail and process. She indicated that Dean Green was in early this morning and motioned Marlee toward his office. The dean would expect her to act meek and mild, exactly how she normally acted around him. She preferred to fly under the radar rather than call attention to herself. Since Logan’s death, Marlee did not hold steady with that philosophy. She had been asking a lot of questions and making a pest of herself on campus and around the community.
Marlee knocked on Dean Green’s door and when he barked for her to enter, she said, “You rang?”
He swiveled around in his office chair and glared at her, stunned for a moment by her flip greeting. “Shut the door and sit down,” he barked, moving toward the small round table across from his desk. He pulled out a chair and sat so close to Marlee that their knees nearly touched. Another technique to get the upper hand, thought Marlee to herself. “I had a call from Chief Bill Langdon yesterday. He tells me you were asking him all kinds of questions about LeCroix’s death when he was a speaker in Dr. DeVry’s class. Then he said you came to his office with Joe Tisdale and had even more questions,” Dean Green spat out.
“That’s true. Stella invited me to sit in on her Criminalistics class to hear the chief speak, so I did, because I teach Crime Scene Investigation, which as you know, is a prerequisite for Criminalistics. The chief was answering other questions, so I asked some too. Then I saw Joe Tisdale, and he asked me to go to a meeting he had set up with the chief,” reported Marlee, knowing full well that her recounting of the events was not completely accurate.
“You think you’re real funny, don’t you?” growled Dean Green.
“Uh, no,” Marlee said, ready to be hit with the full wrath of Mean Dean Green.
“Langdon told me the questions you were asking. He said you got everybody in the class all stirred up and asked questions he wasn’t about to answer. Then he said you managed to get Joe Tisdale all riled up too. We talked about this before, and I told you to stop asking questions and interfering in the work of the police department,” Dean Green said, regaining a smidgen of composure.
“But the police aren’t investigating any more. Chief Langdon ruled it a suicide, and the case is closed. Nothing else is being done. It’s obvious to everyone that this is not a suicide!” shouted Marlee, aware that she wasn’t helping herself with her answer or her tone.
“It is not obvious that this was a murder. The police conducted a full investigation. Just because you have some law enforcement experience and teach a few criminal justice classes does not mean you know more than the police!” shouted Green.
“I don’t agree with the chief’s ruling, but I never said I was smarter than–” said Marlee before being interrupted.
“Shut up! That’s enough! This is your second year here. You don’t have tenure, and you need a positive review from me to get your contract renewed next year,” stated Dean Green.
“Are you threatening my career just because I’ve asked some uncomfortable questions?” Marlee asked, looking him straight in the eye.
“No. When I talked to you about this before, I was threatening your career. Now, I’m telling you to look for another position, because your contract won’t be renewed for next year. You are under contract for the remainder of this semester and next semester, but after that, you’re on your own. And let me remind you that, if you leave before next May, when your contract is up, you can be sued for failure to fulfill its terms. Now, get out!” Dean Green shouted.
Marlee stumbled out of the dean’s office, her head spinning and her legs all of a sudden made of lead. Ten minutes ago, she was a respected assistant professor on the tenure track with hopes of a long career at MSU. Now she was facing unemployment in six months. Shock took over, and Marlee began to shake uncontrollably. She made her way to her office, shut the door and sat down. What was she going to do? She loved teaching, and her heart belonged at MSU. Marlee did not want to start over in her search for a teaching position. Not having her contract renewed would make it difficult to secure a new tenure track position in criminology. Word would get out that she was let go, which would tarnish her reputation
. Her life was about to take a dramatic turn. She was facing not only a new job search, but most likely a move to another town or state.
Needing to process what had just happened, Marlee picked up the telephone and called Diane. Upon hearing the news, Diane rushed to Marlee’s office. The two sat quietly in the darkened office for a few minutes, listening to the background music meant to drown out their conversation from anyone attempting to eavesdrop. Finally, Marlee felt calm enough to recount her conversation with the dean.
“Do you think he’ll cool down and change his mind?” Diane nervously adjusted her dark framed glasses.
“I doubt it. He hates being wrong and wouldn’t have said those things unless he knew he could get away with it. I think he’s dead serious and will do whatever it takes to make sure I’m done teaching at MSU,” Marlee stated.
“There must be some sort of appeal process. He can’t fail to renew your contract because he doesn’t like that you disobeyed his direct orders. Christ, this isn’t the military!” exclaimed Diane, getting more furious by the minute.
“It might as well be the military. Unless you have tenure, the whole process is very political. I don’t know where I could appeal the decision,” Marlee said.
“How about the union?” asked Diane.
“I didn’t join. I know I talked about it, but when it came right down to it, I couldn’t afford the hefty membership dues,” Marlee said. “What am I going to do?”
“Maybe you could at least talk to Harry Hesnar. He’s the president of the union here on campus. Even if he can’t help you, maybe he can give you some advice. It’s worth a try,” Diane brightened with the realization that there may be a solution to Marlee’s dilemma.
“Yeah, it’s worth a try,” Marlee said, blowing out a long sigh. “I have to start thinking about getting my curriculum vitae and references ready so I can go out on the job market. Oh, God. Who’s going to give me a good reference after this?”