“I am,” Noah said, impressed that they were getting back to him so quickly.
“Several FBI agents had come into the library and requested the volume, saying it was needed for a short time as part of an ongoing investigation.”
Noah was stunned. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “FBI?”
“We get occasional requests of this sort,” Telah explained. “It is less frequent now that all theses are available in digital form, but it does happen.”
“Did they have a warrant?” Noah asked. He was astounded that Dr. Mason would go to the extreme of involving the FBI. And he was even more astounded that the FBI would be interested in becoming involved.
“No, they didn’t,” Telah said. “They spontaneously mentioned getting a warrant if it was necessary, but they preferred to keep the case on a low-key basis as it was not a criminal investigation. They said that although the material was available online, it would speed things up for them to have the hard copy, and they would be extremely careful with it and need it for only a few days. I brought the issue up with the head librarian, who authorized it to be released for one week, as the library has had good relations with the FBI in the past. The two agents were very nice about it. They were very young and personable and rather handsome.” Telah laughed. “I know that doesn’t sound very professional, but the visit was a nice break from what normally goes on around here.”
“Thank you for letting me know about this,” Noah said, searching for something to say. After he disconnected the call, he stared out the window for several minutes, totally taken aback by involvement of the FBI. He couldn’t help but feel nervous about such an unexpected development, and it unpleasantly undermined the optimism he had been recently feeling about the Advisory Board meeting. The mere involvement of the FBI gave the accusation that he’d fabricated data a credibility it did not deserve.
In the middle of this new confusion, Noah’s phone chimed to indicate he’d just gotten an email. Trying to calm down, he saw it was from Roberta Hinkle. Hoping for some more comforting news, he used his laptop to read what Roberta had written. It didn’t take long for his hopes to be dashed.
Dear Dr. Rothauser: Things have not been going as smoothly as I had anticipated. First, there was no Ava London in the Coronado High School class of 2000. In fact, there had been no young woman by the name of Ava London attending Coronado High School going back fifty years from 2005. I then checked all the other high schools in Lubbock and found that there had been no Ava London for the same fifty-year interval. I then began searching high schools in the surrounding metropolitan area, where there are high schools in most of the larger towns. After considerable effort, I did find an Ava London in the class of 2000 in Brownfield High School, about an hour’s drive from Lubbock. Apparently, she was a very popular cheerleader, and took a number of AP classes, and was consistently on the honor roll. She was also a member of the student council and her father was an oil executive who committed suicide, so it sounds like the same Ava London you have retained me to do a background check on. At this very moment, I am in the Kendrick Public Library in Brownfield, and I am looking at the high school’s yearbook for 2000, which has a number of photos of Ava London that conform with the photo of Dr. Ava London on her LinkedIn page. However, a major, unexpected problem has come up that I think you should know about, especially if you want me to continue.
Noah shook his head in frustration, wondering why Roberta would not have told him directly what the problem was. As he typed a reply asking to be told the problem, he tried to imagine what the PI had uncovered. Whatever it was, it must have been surprising and off-putting. Roberta responded immediately with another email.
Dr. Rothauser, I have uncovered a major complication with Ava London’s life story. Perhaps it would be best if we talked directly as it is all rather strange.
Snatching up his phone, Noah called Roberta’s cell phone number. Impatiently, he waited for the call to go through. He couldn’t help but feel irritated that she was dragging out telling him what she had learned. Even when she answered, she didn’t tell him right away but instead asked him to hold on while she went outside the library. As he waited, Noah began restlessly drumming his fingers on his folding table.
“All right, I’m back,” Roberta said. She had a pleasant voice with a slight twang that appropriately reminded him of Ava’s voice. “I apologize if this all sounds rather mysterious. Here’s the problem: Everything you said about Ava London’s high school experience was true except that she had gone to Brownfield High School and not Coronado. But, more important, she did not graduate.”
“Excuse me?” Noah questioned. He wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.
“Ava London committed suicide during her senior year exactly twelve months after her father and used the same gun in the same fashion and in the same room of the house. After I discovered this unexpected fact from the memorial in the high school yearbook, I went back and looked at the appropriate issue of the local newspaper published during the week following the event. There were a lot of articles because the tragedy was a major, upsetting episode for the entire town and sparked an investigation by the local authorities. Both the father and the daughter were popular figures in the town. Although no one was ultimately blamed or charged for the tragedy, it was thought by many that Ava’s suicide might have been an early case of cyberbullying. Of course, it wasn’t yet called cyberbullying, but that was what they were describing. At least three of Ava’s classmates were named, and it was considered probable that more were involved. The names of the three were Connie Dugan, Cynthia Sanchez, and Gail Shafter.”
For almost a full minute neither Roberta nor Noah spoke. Noah was stunned for the second time within the hour, and even more so than learning the FBI had been responsible for Dr. Mason getting his thesis. It was Roberta who broke the silence after giving Noah enough time to absorb what she had told him. “Do you want me to continue my investigations?”
“Hold off for now,” Noah said. “Let me digest this weird revelation. I’ll call you back.”
After disconnecting the phone, Noah got up to pace in an attempt to get his mind around what he had learned. With the size of the room, there wasn’t nearly enough space. After four steps, he had to turn around. But he felt he had to move. For a few minutes as he walked back and forth, he fantasized about confronting Ava that afternoon when she came home from the hospital to tell her he’d discovered that Ava London was the sockpuppet, not Gail Shafter. But he gave up on the idea as a childish urge for a bit of revenge that she, too, had been harboring a secret a lot stranger than his having had to make estimates on his thesis project to get it in on time. Besides, he didn’t know for certain if she had anything at all to do with his current thesis fracas.
Instead, Noah picked his phone back up with the idea of reconnecting with Roberta Hinkle. But that turned out to be problematic for the time being. On his screen was a text from her:
I’m on my way back to Lubbock and the phone signal gets bad. Leave me a voicemail if you can’t get through, and I will return your call. Or you can email me. Roberta
Noah responded by emaiclass="underline"
Ms. Hinkle: Despite this surprising twist to the story, I would like you to continue investigating Dr. Ava London’s professional training record at Brazos University. In keeping with what you have learned, I would like you also to check to see if there are any court records in and around Lubbock of someone assuming the name of Ava London around the year 2000. As a final request, would you send me photos from the 2000 Brownfield Yearbook of Ava London and Gail Shafter?