“I’m sure I’ll be able to find them,” Noah said.
In the center of the reading room was a low, two-sided bookcase containing more than fifty years of Brownfield High School yearbooks. Noah took the volume for 2000 and sat down at an oak table.
He first looked at Ava London’s photo. He was surprised because the woman in the black-and-white photo did resemble the Ava he knew, with streaked blond hair, remarkably white teeth, a small sculpted nose, and a strong chin line. She also reflected Ava’s confident stare. Beneath the photo was an impressive résumé of activities including cheerleading captain, student council, senior play, and many clubs. Below that was a short in memoriam, mentioning her death on April 14, 2000.
Noah’s eyes went back to study the photo. He again admitted to himself the individual did look surprisingly similar to his Ava, but he wasn’t sure he would have been able to pick her out if there hadn’t been a name. But he didn’t find that surprising, as it was rare in his experience for someone to resemble their high school photo.
Moving on, he looked at the photo of Gail Shafter. The general features were not too dissimilar, although Gail’s nose was larger and appeared as if it were slightly aquiline, and the hair was definitely brunette with just a few blond streaks. Of particular similarity was the way the young woman looked directly into the camera with obvious self-confidence, although with Gail it bordered on brassiness. What was obviously different about the two women was Gail’s lack of social activities.
Taking his cell phone out of his backpack, Noah replaced the battery just long enough to take a couple photos of the two women. He had wanted Roberta Hinkle to send him the photos, and now he had them. As he put the yearbook back in the bookshelf, thinking about the private investigator made him wonder what Detective Moore would say if he knew Noah was in the area. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, and as best as he could, he put it out of his mind. He didn’t want to think about Roberta Hinkle’s untimely end.
Noah returned to the circulation desk and asked the librarian where he could find back issues of The Brownfield Gazette. She directed him to return to the reading room and to look in the shelving against the near wall. She said there were bound volumes of the paper going back to the year it was founded.
It took Noah only a moment to find the correct volume that contained the April 17, 2000, and the April 24, 2000, issues. He took it back to the same seat. As far as he could tell, he was the only visitor in the library.
As Roberta Hinkle had mentioned in her email, there were many articles on Ava London’s suicide, coming as it did almost a year after her father’s. It was quickly apparent to Noah that both father and daughter were indeed local celebrities with the father an active town philanthropist and the daughter a popular teen, cheerleading captain, and junior prom queen. It was also said that the two were very close after the death of the wife/mother from breast cancer two years before.
What Noah found the most interesting from his reading was the apparent role the journalists believed social media had played in goading Ava London to follow in her father’s footsteps. Numerous emails, messages, and group chats were cited blaming her for her father’s suicide and saying she should do the same. The most consistent authors of this progressively relentless harassment were Connie Dugan, Cynthia Sanchez, and Gail Shafter, as Roberta Hinkle had mentioned in her email, although there were other people involved as well, particularly in the group chats. One article claimed that Ava London had become so despondent from this media attention that she had been unable to attend school for the week prior to her suicide. The two social-media sites implicated were SixDegrees and AOL Instant Messenger.
Noah could only imagine the trauma the small town had endured with the tragic loss of two popular members of the community. The fact that the current Ava’s favorite pastime was social media wasn’t lost on Noah. There was no doubt in his mind that once things returned to some semblance of normal with her, he would need to bring up all of this. As personally generous as he considered Ava, he thought he had to give her the benefit of doubt and hear her side of the story. It certainly was a bizarre situation.
Noticing that there was an index at the end of the volume, Noah went back to the shelf and got the volume for 2002. Checking the index, he found multiple articles on Dr. Winston Herbert, the dentist that Ava had said she’d worked for after high school. Noah skimmed the articles and confirmed that Dr. Winston Herbert had been drafted to start the Brazos University School of Dentistry just as Ava had said. With that information, Noah felt encouraged. He wanted to believe in Ava despite the oddball name change.
After returning the two bound volumes back to the shelf and thanking the librarian, Noah stepped out into full West Texas summer heat. He had one more destination in Brownfield before tackling Brazos University Medical Center, and that was the Terry County Courthouse.
“His phone was on long enough to get an approximate fix on him,” Keyon said, looking up from his laptop screen. “That’s the good news. The bad news is that he’s already gone back off the grid. At least we now know he’s in Brownfield. What are your thoughts? There’s only one road between Brownfield and Lubbock, and we know he’s driving a gray Ford Fusion.”
“What does Google Maps say about driving to Brownfield?” George asked. “How long?”
“About an hour from where we are sitting,” Keyon said. He reached back and put away his laptop.
“I think we should just hang here and wait,” George said. “If we try to go to Brownfield, we take the risk of missing him, even if Brownfield might be a safer place for us to do what we need to do.”
After determining that Noah Rothauser was not in his hotel that morning, Keyon and George had debated their course of action. Ultimately, they decided to drive to the medical center, where they searched for Noah’s car in the hospital’s parking lot. They’d been relieved when they didn’t find any gray Ford Fusions. At that point they’d parked where they could see the front of the hospital and the entrance to the parking lot at the same time, waiting for Noah Rothauser to show up. They had the engine idling to keep on the air-conditioning.
“I think you’re right,” Keyon said. He lowered the back of his seat and replaced his feet on the dashboard, where they had been before he’d gotten the signal Noah’s phone had been turned on. His view out the right of the SUV was of the front of the hospital, which was moderately busy with people coming and going.
From the driver’s seat, George could see the parking lot entrance out his side window. Although the lot was almost full, there wasn’t as much activity as there had been when they first arrived just before 8:00 A.M. It was apparent that the people coming on duty had arrived, and the people going off duty had already left. It was the doldrums of the morning.
“Do you think we should let Hank know what’s up?” Keyon said. Hank Anderson was the controller for Keyon and George. He worked directly under Morton Colman, the CEO of ABC Security.
“No,” George said. “We already clued him in there was a problem making contact. He’ll get in touch with us if he wants an update.”
The Terry County Courthouse reminded Noah of his high school. It was a three-story structure constructed of yellow brick with some engaged columns over the front entrance. In contrast with the few times he’d had to visit government offices in Boston, he found the people in the courthouse in Brownfield pleasant and eager to help. Noah was interested in finding whether there were any court records for Gail Shafter legally changing her name. It didn’t take long. There were no such records.