Tunnel Vision Part 4

aWell, for one thing, no one calls me Royce except my mother,a Brodie said.

aIt fits you,a she said as she teased a finger across the taller womanas mouth. aI like it.a Clearing her throat, Brodie continued, aYour father is my watch commander.a aWhat we do off duty is no one elseas business, including his.a aThereas a pretty big age difference between us.a aIs that a problem for you?a Maggie laughed.

aNot usually. One of my many faults is that I enjoy the company of attractive women,a Brodie admitted. aOf all ages.a aDo you work tomorrow?a Brodie shook her head slightly. Bringing her mouth closer to Brodieas ear, Maggie said with a smile, aIam on second s.h.i.+ft, but Iall make sure youare up before I leave for work.a For the next two years they were never separated until the night that marked the beginning of the end. NICHOLLS SLAPPED THE side of the computer monitor, snapping Maggie back to the present. aCome on, you hunka s.h.i.+t, give with the information already!a Half a minute later the computer finally began doing something constructive. He read the information coming up on the screen and jotted down a few notes.

aIs that about one of the recent cases?a Maggie asked.

aNo. Weave had a rash of afternoon vandalisms and a witness said she saw some kids hanging around one of the places that got hit. So I tapped into the school computer to check attendance records. Never know, I might get lucky and nail the little s.h.i.+ts.a Maggie closed her notebook and got up. aWell, I guess I better get going.a She picked up a small stack of papers from her desk and shoved them into a manila envelope before grabbing her purse and heading for the front door. It had been an eventful two days, despite some latent hostility on Brodieas part.

As Maggie walked past the front desk, the desk officer was engrossed in a heated conversation with a tall, patrician-looking older woman. She was dressed like an English housewife in a green wool plaid skirt, white blouse, and tan cardigan sweater. Her gray hair was pulled up into a semi-bun, but it didnat make her face look stark or severe.

Maggie pushed the front door to the police station open, but the desk officer stopped her. aDetective, perhaps you can help this lady.a Maggie glanced at her watch quickly and walked back toward the front desk. aWhat seems to be the problem?a aMy husband has been missing for five days and the police department doesnat seem to give a d.a.m.n. Thatas the problem, young woman.a aHave you filed a missing personas report, Mrs.a"a aBrauner. And I have filed a report and called every day. So far I havenat even had the courtesy of a follow-up phone call. How far up the food chain do I have to go before you people take this seriously?a The officer behind the desk looked frustrated.

aMaaam, maybe he just wanted to get away for a while.a aOfficer, my husband simply would not just get away. He may be sixty-five years old, but despite what you young people seem to believe, people our age do manage to have quite healthy personal relations.h.i.+ps.a aWhen did your husband disappear, Mrs.

Brauner?a Maggie asked.

aThursday evening, but because Elliott hadnat been gone forty-eight hours these fools made me wait until Sunday morning before taking a report.a Maggie was intrigued by the womanas appearance. She was between fifty and sixty years old, but there were few wrinkles on her face or hands. Her manner, even though she was obviously aggravated, was warm and familiar. She was quite tall, about five-ten, and Maggie had to look up to speak to her, which made her feel like a school girl standing repentantly in front of her teacher.

aIad be happy to talk with you, maaam. Iam Detective Maggie Weston.a aHelen Brauner,a the woman said extending a hand to Maggie. Her grip was surprising strong, not the limp handshake Maggie had expected from the older woman.

Maggie led Helen back to her desk and pulled a chair over for her. Nicholls was pulling his jacket on and preparing to leave.

aNeed some help, Maggie?a he asked.

aNo, thanks. Iave got it, Nicholls.a aWhen you finish up here why donat you join me at the Super Burger? Cheap food and doesnat taste half bad either.a aThanks,a she said with a smile. aIall take a rain check.a Nicholls left Maggie and Helen Brauner alone in the squad room.

aI donat have a copy of the missing person reports right now, Mrs. Brauner, so why donat you just start with Thursday night.a aPlease, call me Helen. Everyone does,a the woman said. aEven my students.a aOkay, Helen. You said your husband disappeared Thursday evening.a aYes. Elliott came home on time, but later remembered there were some papers in his office at the university that he needed for Friday.a aYour husband is a professor?a aWe both are. I offered to go with him, but he said head only be gone a few minutes. We live over on Maple, a few blocks from the university, near fraternity row.a aIam sorry to interrupt you, Helen, but about what time did he leave?a Maggie asked.

aBetween seven and seven-thirty. Right after dinner. Itas about a fifteen minute walk so he should have been home by eight or eight-fifteen.a aHe walked to the campus?a aWe always do. Elliott doesnat drive. I do, but he likes the company and it gives us a chance to talk on the way to work every morning.a aWhat does your husband teach at the university?a aMicrobiology.a aAnd where is his office located?a aIn the Biology Building, third floor.a Maggie felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of the Biology Building. aI see. And is your office in the same building?a aNo. Iam in the building next door. Chemistry. My students told me there was a problem in the Biology Building yesterday. Is that true?a aYes, but Iam sure your husband wasnat involved with that.a Helen Brauner looked relieved. aIam terribly worried about Elliott. This just isnat like him. I called Tony, but he said he hasnat seen Elliott. And neither has Malcolm.a aAnd who are they?a Maggie inquired.

aTony is Elliottas graduate a.s.sistant. A brilliant student, but a little rough around the edges. Malcolm Roth is another professor in Elliottas department.a aDo you know Tonyas last name?a Maggie asked.

aObregon. Antonio Obregon.a aWhat did you mean when you said he was rough around the edges?a aWell, itas just that he doesnat have many social skills. Has a rather nasty temper, according to Elliott, but such promise.a aI see. Do you happen to have a picture of Dr. Brauner?a aI thought you might want one.a Helen smiled as she reached for the worn leather shoulder bag resting against the leg of her chair. aI tried to find a recent picture, but this was all I could find.a She pulled a Polaroid picture from the bag and handed it to Maggie. It showed Helen Brauner standing next to a man who was nearly a head shorter than she. Helen was resting her right elbow on his shoulder and touching his face with her left hand, gazing down at him. Elliott Brauner had his left arm around his wifeas waist and appeared somewhat stiff as he posed for the picture. The contrast between the two was striking. Helen wore a floor length evening gown, resplendent with jewelry, her hair a silver halo surrounding a smiling, almost youthful looking face. Elliott, on the other hand, seemed out of place, wearing a rather ill-fitting tuxedo. The red c.u.mmerbund made him look shorter than he probably was. Wire-rim gla.s.ses sat halfway down his nose at a slight angle. The stockiness of his body betrayed the fact that Helen must have been a good cook.

aIt was taken two or three years ago, the same year Dr. Ramsdell was made University President. His inaugural dance. Iam sure you can tell that Elliott wasnat exactly happy to be there. Called it a total waste of time and money.a Helen laughed. aDespite his grousing, Elliott actually loves to dance and is quite good at it.a aUm, how tall is Dr. Brauner, Helen?a aYou noticed. Elliott is five feet five inches tall and weighs, oh, about a hundred and seventy-five pounds, I think. We used to make quite a striking couple, Detective Weston. The first time I went out with Elliot, in graduate school, I tried to make myself look shorter. But he told me, no, he ordered me, to stand tall. The difference in our height didnat bother him and if it bothered me, then I should look elsewhere for an escort. Then he said something quite off-color about the advantage of being shorter than me.a A slight blush spread over her cheeks as she remembered a private conversation.

aFirst thing in the morning, Iall get a copy of the report youave already filed and check a few things. The picture will be very helpful. Where can I reach you, in case I need to ask you a few more questions?a aIall either be in cla.s.s or in my office most of the day. Iam worried sick about Elliott, but I canat let my cla.s.ses go to h.e.l.l. Elliott would chastise me severely if I neglected my students. My office is 224 in the Chemistry Building and my last cla.s.s ends around three oaclock. But that cla.s.s is a lab so it may take me a little while longer to clean everything up. Thatas in Room 312. Please let me know if you find out anything. Good or bad, I have to know.a Suddenly, Helen Brauner looked older. Maggie placed her hand on Helenas and said, aYouall hear from me tomorrow, Helen, no matter what.a BRODIE TOOK A beer from the refrigerator and headed for the living room. As she stretched out on the couch, Max strolled up next to her and laid his ma.s.sive head on her lap, looking up at her with soulful eyes. Might as well get it over with, she thought as she reached for the telephone receiver and dialed, waiting as the phone on the other end rang.

aG.o.ddammit, Max. Donat you ever stop shedding?a she mumbled as the big dog nuzzled harder against her. She took a long drink of the beer as she continued petting Maxas head until she heard a familiar voice on the phone.

aHi, Camille. Howas it going?a she asked more cheerfully than she felt.

aI was hoping youad call, RB. Iave been thinking about you all day,a Camille said.

aIam sorry about last weekend. I donat know what got into me.a aSometimes things just happen,a she said warmly.

aHow are things at work?a aYou mean how is it having Maggie Weston around, donat you?a aI donat want to pry into your life. Iam just concerned about you.a aI know that. Weave been busy the last couple of days, so I didnat have much time to think about the past,a she lied. aListen, do you have any plans for tomorrow? I need to pick your brains a little.a aI donat think so, but I donat have my appointment calendar here. New case?a aYeah, a nasty one and I need to get a handle on this guy as quick as I can.a aHow do you know itas a man youare looking for?a aItas not a female crime, honey. Take my word for that much.a aThat sounds a little like stereotyping, RB.a aWell, Iam an equal opportunity cop. After you see the file you can tell me if it could be a woman. It goes without saying, of course, that the department canat pay your usual consulting fee.a aWhy donat you drop by my office tomorrow around five?a aI could pick up a pizza or something and drop by your place later this evening,a Brodie offered. Camille paused before responding. aI donat think that would be a good idea right now, RB. We need to talk anyway.a aThat doesnat sound good, babe.a aIall see you tomorrow.a Brodie stared at the phone for a minute before hanging up. Until three days ago she had been enjoying what she considered to be a satisfying relations.h.i.+p with Camille. She took a long drink of the beer as she looked down at Max. The dog looked like he was asleep and she closed her eyes, too. THE DAY AFTER Wheeler was killed, Brodie awakened in the hospital, a dull throb in her right thigh. She barely remembered what had happened the night before. Her mouth was dry and her tongue felt like it was sewn to the roof of her mouth. She looked around for water and saw a nurse adjusting an IV line. She opened her mouth to speak, but had to struggle to say anything.

aWater,a she finally croaked.

The nurse poured a gla.s.s of water and raised the bed far enough for Brodie to drink through a straw.

aYou had us scared for a while, Sergeant Brodie,a she said. aThereas someone waiting outside for you to wake up.a The nurse left the room quietly, returning a few moments later followed by Maggie. She had been in one of the units that responded to her call for help the night before. As soon as the nurse left them alone, Maggie took her hand and kissed her lightly.

ad.a.m.n, baby, you look like s.h.i.+ta she said. She looked exhausted.

aItas just a leg wound. Iam not likely to die from it.a aYou were in surgery long enough for a transplant. The doc said the d.a.m.n bullet traveled halfway down your leg. Itall be a while before you can go back to work.a She looked at Maggie and blinked a few times.

aWheeler...a aHe didnat make it, Royce. Iam sorry.a Brodie was suddenly furious as tears pooled in her eyes and escaped down her cheeks. aThat b.i.t.c.h!

That f.u.c.kina little b.i.t.c.h! Itas my fault, Maggie.a aThatas not true, Royce. You couldnat have known she had a gun.a aI should have been more careful, but she was just a kid.a aYou both should have been more careful. The shooting team thinks she may have been on something.a aWhen is Stanas funeral?a aDay after tomorrow.a She grabbed Maggieas arm and pulled her closer.

aI have to be there, Maggie.a aYou will be, I promise.a Two days later Maggie helped Brodie out of her car. She felt like s.h.i.+t and so far the painkillers werenat doing their job the way they were advertised. She and Maggie were both in their dress uniforms. It took her a while to get used to the crutches, but Maggie stayed at her side until they made it up the front steps of the church. Police officers from cities around the state had turned out to honor the fallen officer and scores of police vehicles from various police departments lined both sides of the street in front of the church. Brodie paused inside the church entryway to remove her hat. As she made her way down the church aisle, other officers looked at her as she pa.s.sed and she knew they were whispering that she had been with Wheeler the night it happened. It seemed like a million years ago. She and Maggie took seats with other members of the Austin Police Department near the front of the church and she saw Commander Tim Weston turn to glare at them.

Forty minutes later they were standing on the gra.s.s in the cemetery. The painkillers either still hadnat kicked in or had and were now wearing off. She tried to think about other things to take her mind off the incessant throbbing in her leg, but she was startled when the honor guard fired its volleys. She wanted desperately for it all to be over, but knew she couldnat leave until she spoke to Stanas wife. When the gravesite service ended she made her way through the line of well wishers to speak to Gloria Wheeler. When she saw Brodie approaching, she went to her and hugged her tightly. Brodie blinked back tears as she told Gloria how sorry she was. She moved on and waited for Maggie to rejoin her.

aGet me out of here, Maggie. My leg is on fire.a aLet me take you back to the hospital, Royce.a aLetas just go home.a They were halfway to Maggieas car when Brodie heard someone call her name and stopped. She saw Tim Weston striding purposefully in their direction followed by Maggieas brothers.

aYou shouldnat have come here, Brodie,a Weston spat as he stopped inches from her..

aThe doctors already told her that,a Maggie said.

aIam not talking about the f.u.c.kina doctors, Officer,a Tim snapped as he looked at his daughter.

aShe doesnat belong here.a aWhat the h.e.l.l are you talking about, Dad? She was Stanas partner, for Christas sake,a Maggie said before Brodie could speak.

aAnd her carelessness cost him his life!a Maggie started to respond, but Brodie stopped her.aIs that what you think, Tim? That Iam responsible for Stanas death?a aYouare G.o.dd.a.m.n right. You know it and I know it, Brodie. You were supposed to be covering his back and you didnat. What the h.e.l.l were you doing?a aIt happened too quick.a aEverything we do is quick. If you canat handle it, you donat belong on the force.a aThatas not fair, Dad,a Maggie intervened. Whipping his head toward his daughter, he spat, aAnd I suppose you believe that bulls.h.i.+t because sheas f.u.c.kina you.a All of Brodieas pent up emotion came to the surface and she forgot about her leg. Dropping her crutches, she grabbed Tim, and shoved him against the nearest tree.

aDonat you ever talk to her like that again,a she seethed.

aThe thought that Stan died because his partner was a f.u.c.kina cowardly d.y.k.e turns my stomach,a Weston snarled as he shoved her away. aYou should have been the one who died and done us all a favor!a Before she thought about what she was doing, she swung her fist and caught Weston on the jaw, knocking him down. All the adrenalin in her body kicked in and she would have continued pummeling her commander if she hadnat been stopped by Maggie and her brothers.

By the time Maggie got her back to her car, the wound had reopened and was bleeding again. She pressed her hand over the wound as Maggie drove away from the cemetery.

aDammit, Royce. You need to go back to the hospital,a Maggie said as she saw the blood on Brodieas hand.

aItall be all right. I need to stay off my feet for a while and let it heal a little longer. Just take me back to my place,a she insisted.

SHE CLENCHED HER hands into fists to keep them from shaking as the memories overtook her. She downed the remainder of her beer in one long swallow and fought back the tears that found their way to the surface. Rubbing her face with her hands, she couldnat believe the appearance of one woman had opened up every bad memory she had worked so hard to forget. Just a few days earlier she had had her past under control.

Chapter Four.

MAGGIE SWUNG HER forest green Subaru into a visitoras parking s.p.a.ce and looked around. There were a few cars parked in an area designated for faculty members and she smiled when she saw them. Some were a little beaten up with a few patches of Bond-O. The university may have been considered a center of higher learning, but many of the vehicles looked as if they belonged in front of a honky-tonk. There was a distinctly Texas appearance to the vehicles. She counted six pick-up trucks with the usual paraphernalia hanging in the back windows. Racks for rifles. Window decals from various countrywestern radio stations in the area. Advertis.e.m.e.nts for the owneras favorite alcoholic beverage. Keep Austin Weird b.u.mper stickers. There were two or three small foreign sports cars that seemed to have taken the wrong off-ramp on their way to an Ivy League college huddled among the pick-ups.

It was nearly eight-thirty and cla.s.ses would be getting underway soon. A few students still straggled across the campus, looking as if they had just rolled out of bed and were still wearing whatever they had slept in.

She knew she should have checked in at the department before driving to the university, but had decided she was capable of conducting a couple of interviews on her own. Brodie might be p.i.s.sed off and she knew it. To fend off some of her potential anger, she left a message with the dispatcher to notify her training officer of her location and the approximate time she would return. The night before she had gotten a list of professors in Elliott Brauneras department. Even though she didnat have cla.s.s schedules for them, she decided to prowl the halls of the Biology Building and visit Brauneras office. She left her purse in her car, locked it, and walked up the steps into the building. A little more than forty-eight hours earlier there had been near panic in the building as students and staff members strained to see what all the excitement had been about. Now it seemed as if nothing remarkable had happened. Inside the front door was a directory listing the office a.s.signments for professors in the building. She didnat remember seeing it the day Garciaas head had been found and reprimanded herself for missing a detail like that. Looking at the list of names, she checked the directory. Dr. Malcolm Rothas office was listed as 316. Dr. Elliott Brauner was 330.

As she climbed the stairs to the third floor, the smell of formaldehyde grew increasingly stronger. With most of the labs located on the second floor, it was understandable, but the smell seemed to rise and permeate into the third floor and grow stronger. Maggie could hear the sound of keyboards clicking rapidly when she reached the top of the stairwell. Occasionally a phone rang behind one of the doors. Fluorescent lighting lit the walls and floor making them seem slightly yellowed. The hallway was Tshaped and Maggie looked to see which direction the room numbers ran before moving farther down the hall. Near the end of the T, she found 316. The name Malcolm Roth, Ph.D. was neatly stenciled in black on the opaque gla.s.s door. Below it, in slightly smaller lettering, aMicrobiologya.

Maggie decided to skip Dr. Roth for the moment and locate Brauneras office. Halfway down the T was Room 330. There were no lights on inside and the same stenciling she had seen on Rothas door was also on this door. Elliott Brauner, Ph.D., Microbiology. She tried the doork.n.o.b, but the room was locked. Returning to Rothas office, she knocked on the door. A moment later the door was opened by a handsome young man in his late twenties, a cell phone pressed between his shoulder and ear.

aMay I help you?a he asked.

Maggie smiled and showed him her badge. aI hope so. Detective Weston with the Cedar Springs Police Department.a aIs this about what happened Monday?a aNo. Iam investigating a missing person. Dr. Brauneras wife filed a report that he hasnat been home for a few days.a The man smiled at her and opened the door wider, ending his conversation and clipping the cell onto his belt. He was medium height and weight and his light brown hair was neatly styled. He wore tan Dockers over a polished pair of loafers. Maggie hadnat seen a man wearing loafers in a while.

aIam sorry, Detective. Please come in. Iam Daryll Chambers, Dr. Rothas a.s.sistant. He doesnat like students dropping by without an appointment and I thought you might be some eager coed looking for free answers to the next exam.a Maggie stepped into the office and glanced around. Anti-everything posters hung on the walls of the outer office. A wooden desk was pushed against one wall. A computer cursor blinked where Chambers had apparently stopped when he answered the door. Next to the desk was a row of four-drawer file cabinets. The room was in moderate disarray, but no more than one would expect in any college office. aIs Dr. Roth in cla.s.s now?a aUntil ten,a Chambers nodded looking at his wrist.w.a.tch. aThen he has a break until after lunch. If you need to talk to him you might try back then.a aI noticed that Dr. Brauneras office is locked. I donat suppose you have a key.a aOnly Dr. Brauner and his a.s.sistant have a key to his office as far as I know.a aI gather you know his a.s.sistant, Mr. Obregon, since youare both in the same department.a aEveryone knows Tony. We were all a little surprised when Brauner made him his a.s.sistant. But then Brauner is a little unusual himself.a aHow so?a aDistant. Never a.s.sociates with anyone else in the department unless his wife is with him and forces him to. Tonyas pretty much the same way, so I suppose thatas why theyare able to stand one another.a aAre Mr. Obregon and Dr. Brauner friendly?a Chambers laughed lightly. aAbout as friendly as a cobra and a mongoose. They fight all the time. Just last week I was on my way here and came up the back stairs. When I pa.s.sed Brauneras office they were practically screaming at each other.a aReally? Could you tell what they were arguing about?a aNo, and I didnat want to know. Although I did hear Brauner use his favorite phrase when he deals with students.a aWhich is?a aThis establishes a new standard for incompetence and carelessness,a Chambers said raising his voice and smiling.

aWas he addressing Mr. Obregon or another person?a Maggie inquired.

Chambers seemed to think a second and then shrugged. aI a.s.sumed he was talking to Tony because before I got to my office I heard a door slam. The next thing I heard was Tony calling Dr. Brauner a stupid old f.u.c.ker.a Chambers smiled sheepishly and said, aExcuse my language.a aDo you remember which day last week you overheard the argument?a aIam sorry, I donat. But it must have been near the end of the week. Definitely after Wednesday.a aIad like to get into Dr. Brauneras office and take a look around. Do you know anyone who might have a key to the other offices?a Maggie asked, glancing to a key ring lying on Chambersa desk.

aI only have a key to this office,a Chambers said as he picked up his key ring. aI can call maintenance or security. One of them might have a master key for all the rooms.a aIad appreciate that, Mr. Chambers,a Maggie smiled as he picked up the desk phone and started to pocket his keys while punching in a few numbers. The keys missed his pocket and fell to the floor. Maggie picked them up and handed them back to him as he explained the situation to whoever answered the phone, said thank you, and hung up.

aThank you, Detective. The security supervisor said heall send someone over in a few minutes. You can wait here if you want,a Chamber said casually.

aThanks, but Iall go back to Dr. Brauneras office. Thanks for your help,a she said. As she reached the door, she looked back at Chambers who had already sat back down at his desk.

aIall be back around ten. Please tell Dr. Roth Iad like to speak with him,a she said.

aWill do,a Chambers said without looking up. Maggie waited outside Brauneras office for about ten minutes before she heard footsteps trudging up a back stairway to the third floor. Finally she saw a gray head appear over the top step. A man in his fifties, wearing dark brown work pants and a shortsleeve tan work s.h.i.+rt, displaying a patch with the university seal on the right sleeve, appeared to be winded by the time he reached the top step. As he took a deep breath and approached her she could read the name aRalpha embroidered over his left s.h.i.+rt pocket. He was carrying a large metal ring with dozens of keys hanging on it.

aYou the one who wants in 330?a he asked as he reached her.

aYes,a she replied.

aYou got permission from somebody?a Pointing to the badge hanging over the waistband of her slacks, she said, aYes, again.a aSorry, but, as Iam sure you know, weave had a little trouble here recently,a Ralph said as he fumbled through the keys looking for the right one. aAnd I sure donat want no trouble from Dr. Brauner on account of me letting someone in here.a aWho else would have keys to this office?a aBesides this one, probably only three or four. Dr. Brauneras a little paranoid about who has access to his office. He has us change the lock every time he gets a new a.s.sistant. Must have somethina top secret in there. Ah, here is it,a he said absently. He turned the key and opened the door.

aThanks. Iall make sure itas secure before I leave,a Maggie said as she reached in and flipped on the light switch. She looked around the room as Ralph searched for the key to Brauneras inner office. When he finally opened the door, he turned to leave. aTell you what Iam gonna do, Officer. Iall set the doors to lock automatically when you close it. Itall save me another trip.a Maggie stepped back out into the hallway as half the manas body disappeared down the steps.

aRalph!a she called out.

aYeah,a he answered, stopping to turn halfway around.

aWould the janitorial staff have a master key, too?a He scratched his head a second before answering.

aYeah, I think they might, now that you mention it.a aDo you know a janitor named Cruz Garcia?a aHeard the name. I believe he works evenings and I only work days.a She nodded and walked back into Brauneras office. The office was set up in the same configuration as Rothas with a small outer office and a slightly larger room which served as Brauneras office. The difference between Rothas office and Brauneras was striking. No posters decorated the walls and there were no stacks of papers. The outer office looked unoccupied. There was a wooden desk, which she a.s.sumed was for his a.s.sistant. An older model computer sat on one side of the desk. There were no file cabinets in the front office. Sitting at the desk, she opened the drawers and looked through a few small stacks of papers. Apparently the papers were student a.s.signments waiting to be graded. Other than the papers, everything else in the drawers was what she would have expected to find; typing paper, a bottle of correction fluid, pens, pencils, paper clips. Maggie turned on the overhead light in Brauneras office. The room was certainly not overly decorated, but had a homier look than the outer office. A bank of file cabinets lined the wall just inside the door. A striped Roman shade covered the window and three potted plants sat on the windowsill. Maggie poked a finger into each pot. The soil was dry and the plants probably hadnat been watered in several days. Turning away from the window, she surveyed the contents of the room. There were pictures and doc.u.ments on the walls and she read each one. Three college degrees hung directly behind Brauneras desk and she speculated they would seem intimidating to anyone sitting in front of the desk. An undergraduate diploma from Columbia and graduate diplomas from the University of Chicago and Harvard. Remembering the picture his wife had shown her, Elliott Brauner had not exactly fit the mental image anyone would have of an Ivy Leaguer. Hanging alongside the diplomas were commendations from the National Inst.i.tutes of Health, the Center for Disease Control, and a few other governmental agencies she had never heard of. On a side wall between two large bookcases were a series of pictures Maggie a.s.sumed to be family pictures. Several pictures were of Helen, but there were none that included Brauner himself. Either the professor had been camera shy or was extremely modest. One of the bookshelves held a small compact disc player. Next to it was a collection of CDs, mostly cla.s.sical with a smattering of jazz recordings. Brauneras desk was cleared except for an ink blotter/calendar combination and a picture of Helen leaning against a huge tree, smiling broadly. Maggie sat down at the desk and pulled a drawer open. A stack of official looking papers embossed with the university seal were paper clipped together and lying on top. Maggie took them out and was glancing through them when she was interrupted by a loud voice.

aHow the f.u.c.k did you get in here?a She looked up quickly and saw a menacing looking Hispanic man standing in the doorway of Brauneras office. He was clenching and unclenching his hands and she reflexively touched the service revolver under her left arm. The man appeared to be in his mid to late twenties and reminded her of more than a few of the Hispanic gang members she had encountered on patrol. He had curly black hair and dark brooding eyes that seemed to drill through her. He was dressed in khaki work pants and a white ts.h.i.+rt. A gold chain hung around his neck and although she couldnat see what was hanging at the end of it, she would have made book it was a crucifix. There was an old, but still noticeable, scar on the right side of his forehead.

aYou deaf? I asked how you got in here?a the man asked loudly, taking a step forward.

aThatas close enough, sir. Thereas no need to get worked up,a she said as she stood. The manas eyes dropped to her waistband.

aYou a cop?a aDetective Weston, Cedar Springs Police. Who are you?a she asked.

aBrauneras a.s.sistant.a aTony Obregon, right?a Maggie said with a slight smile. aI was hoping Iad have a chance to speak to you.a aAbout what?a aDr. Brauneras wife has reported him missing. Iam checking to see if anything here would tell me where he might be.a aWell, he ainat here, thatas for d.a.m.n sure. You got a warrant?a aI donat need one when the family requests a.s.sistance. When was the last time you saw Dr. Brauner?a Obregon shrugged. aThursday, I guess.a aSo you didnat see him Friday.a aI just told you when I saw him. I came in Friday and the office was locked. I figured Brauner must have gotten sick or something.a aWhat did you do then?a aWhat do you think? I went home and went back to bed with my old lady.a Obregon turned and stalked back into the front office. Maggie followed him. He sat down and opened a drawer in his desk.

aI suppose youave already been through this,a he sneered.

aHow long have you been Dr. Brauneras a.s.sistant?a she asked, ignoring his comment.

aEighteen months, three weeks, four days, and counting.a aThatas pretty precise.a He looked at her and smiled wryly. aWorking for Brauner makes you that way. Almost like counting the days on a prison sentence.a aYou didnat get along with him?a aNo one gets along with Brauner. They tolerate him.a aAnd vice versa?a Obregon stood up and placed his hands on top of his desk.

aMeaning what?a As he glared at her she noticed the distinct markings of homemade tattoos on his forearms and the backs of his hands.

aAre you still a member of the Latin Lords?a He took his hands off the desk and shoved them into his pockets.

aYou bet. This is an equal opportunity university just crawling with Black Panthers, Latin Lords, and a dozen other gangs.a aItas not easy to break away from a gang like that. Has it caused you any problems?a aOnly with the white academic establishment,a he answered. He looked her in the eyes and lowered his voice as he spoke. aThe homeboys wonat bother me as long as they think Iam still the meanest motherf.u.c.ker in the neighborhood.a aTell me about Dr. Brauner,a Maggie said, taking her notebook from her pocket.

aAinat that much to tell. Heas a son of a b.i.t.c.h.a aMaybe you could be a little more specific. Is he a tough employer?a aThe little Jew is a tough everything, lady. Most hated professor on this campus. The students tried to get him fired a couple of years ago, but of course, the bigwigs didnat want to hear any s.h.i.+t about that.a aIsnat he a good teacher?a aFor the five percent who can pa.s.s his cla.s.s, heas a f.u.c.kina genius. To the other ninety-five percent heas a f.u.c.kina son of a b.i.t.c.h,a Obregon said with a grin.

aWhich group are you in?a Obregon stopped grinning. aIam one of the select five percent, but still think heas a son of a b.i.t.c.h. The guyas s.a.d.i.s.tic toward students. Nothinas ever good enough. Perfectionas all he gives a d.a.m.n about. Musta been one of those Jews who turned their own kind in. Loves to humiliate students in front of everyone.a aIs that what you argued with him about last week?a aWho told you that?a aI just heard it. Did he call you incompetent and careless?a aEvery f.u.c.kina day.a aDid it make you mad?a aNo, I love beina called a moron. What do you think?a aMad enough to do something about it?a aOh, I get it! Brauner takes off for parts unknown and you think I helped him pack for the trip.a aI donat think anything, Mr. Obregon. Iam just asking questions.a aAm I a suspect or something? Cause if I am, I know my rights and you better Mirandize me. Otherwise, I got nothina else to say to you.a aNo, youare not a suspect right now, but I wouldnat leave the area for a few days in case I have more questions for you later.a aOooh, Iam shakina all over, officer,a he sneered.

aThat it?a aDo you know what Dr. Brauneras schedule for Friday was supposed to be? Did he have anything unusual planned?a aBrauner is a very predictable man. The only thing he had planned for Friday was another exam which was guaranteed to fail the usual ninety-five percent.a aAre you in Dr. Brauneras cla.s.s?a aIam his a.s.sistant. I canat very well be in his cla.s.s and be expected to grade the d.a.m.n tests, now can I.a aDid you administer his tests?a aSometimes, but I never see them until he hands them to me in the cla.s.sroom. Youad think they contain the secret to how the universe was formed the way he guards them. Didnat even trust me to type them. Just hand them out and grade them.a aDid he ever accuse you of creative grading?a aNope. I canat stand most of the elitist little p.r.i.c.ks in his cla.s.ses and he knows it.a aOkay. If you think of anything else that might be useful, give me a call at the police department,a she said as she handed him a business card.

Obregon nodded as she walked toward the office door. aIt was that a.s.shole Chambers who told you about me and Brauner, wasnat it?a aIam afraid I couldnat say,a she answered with a smile. Turning back toward him as he grabbed the door to close it, she asked, aBy the way, do you know a man named Cruz Garcia?a aThe janitor?a aYes.a aMet him once when I was working late in the lab. Jacka.s.s thought because Iam Hispanic I broke in to steal something. Why?a aNo reason. I wanted to ask him a few questions.a aCome back later. Pretty sure he works the night s.h.i.+ft.a Obregon slammed the office door as she began walking down the hallway toward Malcolm Rothas office. The hallway seemed amazingly quiet and she could hear her own footsteps as she walked. When she turned the corner into the main hallway, she heard music coming from the direction of Rothas office and it took her a moment to remember where she had heard the same music before. Brodie had played it for her once. The Grateful Dead. Somehow the image of The Grateful Dead and Royce Ann Brodie never seemed to go together. She smiled and shook her head as she knocked on Rothas office door and waited. No one answered. Turning the doork.n.o.b, she looked in the front office. Seeing no one, she went to the door of Rothas private office and knocked. A minute later the door opened and Malcolm Roth smiled down at her. She smiled back, but more from amus.e.m.e.nt than friendliness. Roth was wearing a bright tie-dyed t-s.h.i.+rt over faded jeans and sandals. His graying hair was long and pulled back into a ponytail. Round wire-rimmed John Lennon gla.s.ses made his long thin face appear even longer and thinner. His eyes were wide and it was obvious that he hadnat taken time to shave that morning.

aCan I help you, miss?a Roth asked.

aDr. Roth?a Maggie inquired.

aYes.a aIam Detective Weston with the Cedar Springsa"a aAh, yes. Daryll told me you had been by,a he interrupted. aPlease come in, Detective.a She followed him into the office. He plopped down in a chair behind his desk and reached behind him to turn his stereo off. As she sat down across from him, she noticed the distinct odor of marijuana in the room, thinly hidden by the pungent scent of burning incense. Glancing around the room she saw a couple of Grateful Dead posters and a number of photographs of Roth apparently taken during another time in his life. Except for his graying hair, he hadnat change appreciably over the years.

aAre you old enough to remember the sixties, Detective Weston?a Roth asked.

aNot really,a she answered, abut Iave heard about them.a aThe last great era of personal and academic freedom,a he said with a touch of sadness in his voice.

aThere certainly arenat any groups like the Dead around anymore.a aYou know the Dead?a he asked with a smile.

aI had a friend who listened to them.a aWell, Iam sure you didnat come here to discuss the sixties, as fascinating as they may have been. How can I help you?a aIam checking on a missing person report on Dr. Elliott Brauner. His wife hasnat seen him for several days.a Roth leaned forward. aNow that you mention it, I havenat seen him around lately either. But no one keeps tabs on Elliott. Heas a very private person.a aWhen was the last time you saw him?a aG.o.d, I donat know,a Roth said scratching his beard. aMust have been at least last Wednesday or Thursday.a aAre you close to Dr. Brauner?a Roth laughed softly. aElliott Brauner doesnat have friends, Detective. Merely acquaintances. A shame really. I confess that I did force myself on him a few times, but mostly about academic matters. He has an exceptional mind, you know. And was educated at the finest inst.i.tutions. It was a genuine coup when the university convinced him and his wife to teach here.a aItas my understanding he isnat very popular with students.a aThatas a polite way of putting it. An extraordinary number of students fail his courses. But please notice I didnat say he failed an extraordinary number of students. If a student works hard for Elliott, they pa.s.s. A aCa in his course is considered an academic achievement.a aDo you think anyone dislikes him enough to harm him?a aI doubt it, but with students today you never know. Theyare a fairly mediocre bunch. I doubt many of them ever had to work for a grade before they graced us with their presence. Theyare not terribly motivated, so even if they thought about doing something to Elliott I doubt any of them would have the initiative to do it. And unless youare a believer in the paranormal, thoughts usually wonat hurt anyone.a aWhat do you know about Dr. Brauneras a.s.sistant, Mr. Obregon?a aAll I know is what Elliott told me once in a rare burst of enthusiasm. According to him, Tony has the most potential of any student heas taught in years.a aI got the impression that Mr. Obregon doesnat care much for Dr. Brauner.a aThatas Elliottas way. Heas not generous with his praise. He believes it will cause students to slack off if they know heas impressed with their work. He is hard on Tony, but I get the impression he likes him. At least academically.a aYour a.s.sistant said he overheard Brauner and Obregon arguing.a aI wouldnat doubt it, but I wouldnat take what Daryll says too seriously. Personally, I think heas a little jealous of Tony.a aWhy is that, Doctor?a Roth rubbed absently at his day-old beard growth.

aHow can I put this politely. Daryll is no genius, Detective Weston. Heas one of Elliottas students this term and itas a coin toss whether he will pa.s.s or not. Iam not too happy with the work he does for me, but there simply werenat any other a.s.sistants available to choose from. If I could have stolen Tony away from Elliott, I would have. And believe me, there is no way in h.e.l.l Elliott would consider Daryll as his a.s.sistant. Elliott called him something quite appropriate once,a he said looking at the ceiling. aWhat was it? Oh, yeah. A wealthy sniveling sycophant.a aWhy do you keep him as your a.s.sistant then?a aNeeded someone to answer the phone,a he shrugged. aAnd he is an adequate typist. This is his last year with us anyway. If he can pa.s.s Elliottas course, that is.a IT WAS NEARLY noon before Maggie finished interviewing Malcolm Roth. The only impression she came away with was that Roth seemed to genuinely like Elliott Brauner. Including his wife, that brought the grand total of his fans to two. As she drove to the police department she tried to piece together what she knew and concluded it wasnat much. She pulled her car into a parking s.p.a.ce in front of the station. The early spring air was warm and felt good against her face. She was glad she had moved to Cedar Springs. Brodie and Nicholls, their s.h.i.+rtsleeves rolled up, were going through a stack of folders when she entered the squad room. She noticed with a smile that Brodie hadnat lost her habit of running her hand absently through her hair when she was preoccupied.

aSorry Iam late,a she said as she sat down at her desk and pulled out her notebook.

Nicholls looked at her and nodded without smiling. Brodie closed the folder she was reading and tossed it on her desk as she stood up.

aWith me, Weston,a she said tightly as she walked away.