“That would be no, Brandt. I’m not inclined to keep quiet just because you think I should.” Evan turned his chair, holding the Coke can between his knees. “While they bond, why don’t we? I like you, Ms. Hart. What are you doing here?”
“The officer who’s interviewing Professor Lieber is a good friend. We were together when she got the call to come in and help out. There’s an officer out sick.” A small lie about being called in, but Evan had already spilled plenty and I had the feeling there was more. Candace would want me to take advantage.
“So you’re friends with Deputy Candace Carson? She’s pretty darn hot for a cop. Think you can make sure she’s my interviewer rather than me having to endure some stuffy police chief?”
I laughed. “I don’t think I’ll have a say in that.”
He brushed hair off his forehead and smiled. Beneath the facade, I got the sense this was a nice kid who didn’t know quite how to respond to murder. Who would?
“Had to try and see if she’d be the one I could talk to.” He gulped down the rest of his Coke and tossed the can in the wastebasket near B.J.’s desk.
B.J. was on the radio again, that piece of paper with the police codes in his hand. He was determined to use those codes no matter what.
The Sprite I’d bought wasn’t sitting well after that latte I’d consumed earlier. I stood and put my mostly full can in the trash, too, and slid the change meant for Brandt’s drink onto B.J.’s desk.
Kara and Brandt were deep in conversation, but Candace’s appearance with the boyfriend interrupted them. The look on Candace’s face when she saw Kara said it all, but she immediately put her thoughts into words. “What are you doing here?”
Brandt said, “This is a public building. That means she has every right to be here.”
Showing off his law-school learning for a pretty girl. Guys like to impress, no matter how old they are.
“Brandt,” the boyfriend, Lieber, said, “I know you’re on edge, but can you tone it down a notch? Deputy Carson has a job to do.”
“Thanks, Dr. Lieber, but I can handle this,” Candace said. “Brandt VanKleet, come with me, please.”
Brandt looked at Kara and made a motion with both thumbs. I’d seen Candace do that before and learned it was the “Text me” signal.
As Brandt followed Candace to the interview room, Evan said, “Man, he gets them all. Guess I should consider law school.”
Lieber stood by Evan and patted his shoulder. “You have a creative mind. There are better things ahead for you.”
Evan looked embarrassed and changed the subject, saying, “This is Ms. Hart, Doug. She’s a volunteer. I can see why they need one. I mean, for a police station there’s hardly anyone here.” He gestured at B.J. and said, “Except for him.”
Kara said, “I had no idea you’d gotten into volunteer work, Jillian. You are full of surprises.”
Thank goodness she didn’t blow my story. From the gleam in her eye, I could tell she was enjoying this. But that little hint of conspiracy between Kara and me didn’t get past Evan.
“What are you so happy about, Kara? Guess you haven’t lost a father lately like we have,” he said in annoyance.
“Oh, but I have,” she said quietly. The gleam was gone in an instant.
Lieber gripped Evan’s shoulder so hard, his knuckles turned white. “Cool it, Evan. I know you’re stressed, but let’s not take it out on strangers.” He turned to Kara. “Douglas Lieber,” he said, holding out his hand to shake hers.
Kara’s small step into grief was over. She introduced herself, again referring to me as her stepmother. “What are you a professor of?” Kara asked.
“I teach sociology and an occasional chemistry course. Dual PhDs,” he said. “I try not to be too boring, but fresh-men are a tough audience.”
“I wouldn’t be bored,” Kara said. “I just left my job as a newspaper columnist. I wrote about social networking, pop culture and trends, so I’m a big fan of sociology.”
Evan looked at me with a silly grin. “Aren’t they the intellectuals? What do you do, Ms. Hart?”
“I’m a quilt maker,” I said.
“The simple life. Good for you,” Evan said.
Sarah VanKleet marched down the hall toward us, her high heels clicking on the tile. She motioned to Evan. “Go talk to Chief Baca. And remember what Brandt told you earlier.”
Evan rose, hiking up his loose jeans. “Certainly, Mommy.”
B.J. started to get up and lead Evan down the hall, but Evan said, “I read every one of those Where’s Waldo? books and found him every time. Sit down, bro.” He took off for the chief’s office.
Sarah glanced back and forth between Kara and me, her smile tight. “ Douglas, who have you been talking to?”
Lieber gestured at me and said, “This volunteer who helped us earlier is Jillian Hart.” He waved a hand at Kara. “And this is her stepdaughter, Kara.”
I glanced at B.J. He was looking at me, obviously puzzled at that volunteer reference. But to his credit, he didn’t say anything about charity work he knew nothing about.
Sarah examined the metal folding chair Evan had vacated, obviously looking for grimy police station crud. Apparently satisfied it was safe, she sat down. Lieber picked up her hand and held it between his own. She looked up at him, appearing nervous.
“That interview wasn’t so awful, was it?” he said.
“I had to provide an alibi, so yes, it was awful,” Sarah said. “Even the suggestion that I would be involved in murder is absolutely ludicrous. These people have a lot of nerve.”
“I wish I’d been home with you Friday,” Lieber said. “That would have made things easier.”
Kara waved her hand back and forth between the two of them. “So you can’t help each other out. That’s too bad.”
Douglas Lieber, it would seem, wasn’t under Kara’s spell, because he said, “Yes, too bad,” in a curt tone.
Sarah looked at Kara. “I know why your stepmother is here, but what’s your reason?”
“Just like you, I’m a stranger in town. Here for a visit. Jillian thought I should see more of the town. And for a writer, what better place to start than the police station? This is the pulse of Mercy, South Carolina.”
What a load of dirty kitty litter, I thought smiling inwardly. The girl was quick. Good for her.
“I see,” Sarah said. She again looked up at Lieber. “I want this whole sordid mess over. But I have to identify his body. I’m not prepared to walk into a morgue, Douglas.”
“Maybe they’ll allow me to do that,” he said.
“If it helps any, you won’t have to get near the body,” Kara said. “They’ll show his face on a video feed or wheel the body into a room. You’ll be in an adjacent room with a window for viewing.”
“Is that so?” Lieber said. “That should make things easier, right, Sarah?”
“I suppose.” She sighed heavily.
“You seem to know a lot about that procedure, Kara. How’s that?” I said.
“I once covered a rapper who’d come to Houston for a concert,” she said. “Rap music remains an evolving and interesting part of the social landscape. Anyway, this man was shot in a drive-by outside his hotel before the concert. Since I’d done the research on him, the crime reporter let me share a byline. Part of the story involved interviewing the medical examiner-or trying to. All I got was a tour of the morgue’s outer offices.”
As she told us the story, Kara dropped her guarded facade. She seemed like that eighteen-year-old girl I’d met so many years ago. I could tell she’d enjoyed covering that shooting, and for me, that partly explained her interest in the murders. Maybe she was meant to be a crime reporter.
“That’s horrible,” Sarah said. “Murders there, murders here. It’s making me ill.”
Lieber said, “She was trying to help you feel more comfortable with the process; that’s all. Knowledge is power, Sarah.”