Killer Classes Page 3

  “Why can’t you? Surely it would make more sense coming from you.”

  “Well,” she faltered a little. “I’m not sure they’d open up to me.”

  I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that, and she didn’t seem to want to share more so I decided to leave it alone for now.

  I picked up the list, reading it over but not recognizing any names. Not that it was surprising, since it was a leadership conference for college and university leaders and not a conference I would attend. A few levels above my pay grade, as my dad would say.

  “I don’t know, Candy,” I faltered, already starting to regret going this far, not that I didn’t want to be helpful. I already felt I was getting in over my head.

  “Just make a few calls. See if anyone saw him, talked to him, or when the last time he was seen was. Maybe something will give a clue as to what happened to him. Please!”

  “Candy, I’m sure the police are already doing this.”

  “They might be but they’re not telling me anything,” she sniffed.

  “I can’t promise anything,” I said tentatively, knowing as I said it, it was probably a mistake.

  “Thank you, Olivia.” Candy stood up and she actually did look thankful and relieved that someone was helping her. It wasn’t an expression I’d seen on her face before. That didn’t make me feel better about what I’d agreed to. I had a feeling I would come to regret this.

  Chapter 6

  Dang it! I thought, giving myself a mental head slap a few minutes after Candy left my office. I forgot to ask Candy why she was driving her husband’s car and who she was with at the Taco Shack. She’d caught me by surprise showing up here. Oh well. It seems like I’d be talking to her again soon anyway.

  I grabbed my phone and shot off a quick text to Don to see if he was in his office. I needed to find out what he’d heard about this whole president missing or whatever situation. If he’d tell me. It often took a lot of persuading on my part to get him to talk about confidential information and once he found out I was trying to help Candy get to the bottom of things, he’d probably be less inclined to tell me anything.

  I stared at my phone, willing a reply. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait long. He was available, so I grabbed my things and headed over to his office. I couldn’t wait to tell him Candy paid me a visit even though I knew his reaction would be less than happy, but I wanted his input. I wasn’t sure if she was just upset and making up worst-case scenarios or if there was any truth to what she said. I hoped he could shed some light on it and didn’t completely clam up.

  I walked into the campus security office that buzzed with people. Usually the place was quiet. There weren’t a lot of issues on this campus. Mostly noise at night, unsanctioned parties, or the occasional graffiti. We were a small liberal arts college and the town of Spencer didn’t have a lot of crime. It was the stereotypical sleepy town. We didn’t attract a lot of students looking for the party college experience. No doubt those students preferred the bigger cities. Don’s desk was in the back corner, so I headed back there. I set my stuff down and sighed.

  “What’s going on? Rough day?” Don said, looking at me with a smile.

  “You won’t believe who I just spent an hour with at my office,” I said, my voice lowered. There wasn’t a lot of privacy in these cubicles and I didn’t want the whole office to hear me.

  “Who?” he whispered and grinned. I could tell he was making fun of me just a little for my dramatic flair, but I was going to ignore it. He would change his tune once he heard what I had to say.

  “Candy Stoddard,” I said with emphasis. Don wasn’t wrong; I did have a bit of a dramatic flair, but I wasn’t exaggerating thinking that this would be quite a shock to him. He knew as I did that Candy wasn’t one to normally seek out a lowly professor to chat with.

  As I looked at him, I got my vindication when his eyebrows shot up with surprise and he let out a soft “Oh.”

  I sat back in my chair smugly. “See? I wasn’t being that dramatic.”

  “I guess not. What did she want from you? I didn’t realize you were friends.”

  I leaned forward, putting my elbows on his desk. “We’re not. I wouldn’t even call us acquaintances. Which is what makes the whole thing that much stranger. I about dropped dead from shock when she showed up at my office.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She thinks her husband was kidnapped and she wants me to help her find him.” I knew he wouldn’t be thrilled at that part and by the expression on his face, I wasn’t wrong. He’d been very vocal when I was poking around trying to find out who killed David March. He never stopped suggesting I should leave it for the police. A suggestion I consistently ignored.

  “Why you?”

  I wasn’t offended at the skepticism in his voice. “Trust me, I asked her the same question. She seems to think since I figured out who killed David, I can help her figure out who kidnapped her husband. My bigger question is, why does she think he’s been kidnapped? She’s convinced but there’s no proof. Is that what the police think?”

  Don hesitated. “I guess since she already told you, you didn’t hear it from me first. Yes, that is the general consensus right now.”

  “Why? What information do they have to make them think that?”

  “You don’t need to get involved with this. Leave it to the police,” he said sternly, and I knew he wasn’t joking. I’d listened to many lectures from him last time about not getting involved, most of which I’d ignored. Okay, all which I ignored.

  “I didn’t get involved. Candy involved me.”

  He frowned. “That doesn’t matter. What did she tell you?”

  “You mean for the reason she thinks he was kidnapped?” He nodded. “She said he would never disappear and not tell her, which makes sense. He is her husband and most people don’t just up and leave for days on end without telling their spouse. What do the police think?” I asked again, feeling more compelled to get involved against my better judgment. He gave me a pointed look before answering.

  “All we know is he dropped off the radar and either he doesn’t want to be found or someone is making sure he’s not being found. Until they find out otherwise, the police are treating it as a missing person’s case. It’s standard when there isn’t any evidence to the contrary.”

  I leaned back in my chair again, thinking about what Don said. It made sense. Of course, the police wouldn’t treat this as something other than a general missing person’s case without proof.

  “Do you think he’s been kidnapped?” Don asked and I was a bit surprised.

  “Not really. Who would want to kidnap the president of any university, much less this one? It’s not like we’re Harvard. Can’t the police track his cell phone or something to see where he’s been?”

  “They have.”

  “Where has he been?” I asked impatiently.

  “They don’t know. He’s been off the grid for a week.”

  “For guesses and giggles, let’s say he was kidnapped. What would be a motive?”

  “Money. That’s usually a motive. Unless it’s a domestic issue.”

  “He makes that much? Maybe I should go into administration,” I said dryly, not serious in the slightest. There was no way anyone could pay me enough to deal with the headache that came with higher ed administration, so I didn’t begrudge him a big paycheck.

  “Well, he makes more than you or me, but it’s not him who has all the money.”

  My eyes widened. “Candy?”

  “Yep. Her parents are extremely wealthy, and she has quite the trust fund.”

  I took in this information. Considering how many rumors had flowed around that she was with him for his money, for it to turn out to be the opposite was quite interesting. I couldn’t help but think of what a field day the university gossip mongers would have with this bit of news. I was also surprised it’d been kept so well hidden.

  Don’s boss peeked over to see what he was doing, and I smi
led and waved.

  “I probably should get back to work. They’ve got me tracking down his friends and contacting them to see if they’ve heard from him.”

  I wonder if that was the same list Candy gave me? Though I wasn’t going to ask. “Of course. Do you want to grab some dinner later?” I said, standing up.

  Don frowned. “I would love to, but I’m afraid I’ll be caught up here.”

  I tried to hide my disappointment. I hated he’d been back almost two days and I still hadn’t had a chance to spend any time with him. Though it wasn’t his fault he had to work.

  “I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Not your fault. When work calls, we must answer,” I forced out in a cheery tone because the last thing I wanted to do was make him feel bad. I wouldn’t want him to do that to me and it wasn’t fair that I did it to him.

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “Please do.” I waved at him as I walked out of the building. Even though I was disappointed I couldn’t spend time with him, I did know someone else I could talk to.

  Chapter 7

  My phone buzzed as I walked out of Don’s office. I looked down, but didn’t recognize the number. Normally, I didn’t answer numbers I didn’t know. Too many telemarketers and it wasn’t even worth answering to tell them to put me on the do not call list. I just sent them all to voicemail. But this was a local number, so I went ahead and answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Olivia?” A frantic voice came across the line. “It’s Candy.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just got what I think is a ransom note. I was right. Someone took my Thaddeus,” she sobbed.

  “Oh no! Have you called the police?”

  “No. The note says not to call the police.” Her voice rose on each word, almost to a shriek. “Can you come over?”

  I mentally ran through my calendar and I didn’t have much for the remainder of the day. I only had a committee meeting on something I didn’t even remember and a meeting with a student. I could skip the committee meeting and rearrange the student meeting fairly easily.

  “Yes. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Please hurry,” she sobbed.

  I sent a quick email from my phone to the committee chair that I wouldn’t be at the meeting. I also sent off a text to the student about rearranging the meeting and got it rescheduled for tomorrow as I walked back across campus to my car. Technology did make things efficient.

  It didn’t take long for me to make my way over to Candy’s house and, as I pulled in her driveway, I couldn’t help but wonder what had taken so long for someone to send a ransom note since he’d been missing since Thursday. Not that I was an expert on kidnapper protocol, but it seemed like the note would have come before now. What could someone gain by waiting? Wouldn’t that just give the police more of a head start?

  I walked up to the front door and before I could knock or ring the doorbell, it swung open. I’d never seen Candy look so disheveled. Her face was all splotchy and red from crying and her make-up, which I was sure was of the highest quality, was no match for the tears she’d shed as her mascara and eyeliner had streaked down her face. For the first time ever, she didn’t seem to care what she looked like. She was still in her pajamas which were dressy by the standards of my pajamas, which typically consisted of men’s pajama pants and a ratty T-shirt. Hers were a matching set of pink silk with daisies on them.

  She ushered me in and shut the door behind me, walking in the kitchen. She picked up a five by seven manila envelope and handed it to me. It had been sealed with tape but of course she’d already opened it. I lifted the flap and pulled out the contents, which was simply a sheet of typewritten paper.

  It said:

  If you wish to see your husband alive again, gather up $100,000 by Thursday 5 P.M. More directions to come. Don’t tell anyone, especially the police, if you want to see your husband alive again.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it seemed kind of understated for a ransom note. Just a simple Word doc in an envelope. But then, what did I know? It wasn’t like I’d seen any ransom notes before except in the movies. Did actual kidnappers take the time these days to cut letters out of magazines?

  “When did you get this?” I asked

  “I opened it right before I called you. I heard the doorbell ring and when I went to answer it, this sat on the doormat.”

  Interesting that someone risked walking up to her front door to leave a note.

  “Don’t you have security cameras?” I’d seen a camera in the corner of the front door area in prior visits.

  “Well yes, but they don’t work. A month or so ago we had a system failure and they came out and replaced a part, but it only worked a couple days before going out again. I just haven’t called them back to fix it. I never really thought they were necessary. Thaddeus was the one more paranoid about security. This is a small town. I always thought we were safe.”

  My eyebrows raised and I couldn’t help but think that was an interesting coincidence. Did the kidnappers know the security cameras weren’t working? And if so, did that mean it was someone they knew?

  “Do you have any idea who could’ve sent it? Or who would’ve done this?” I asked, even though I pretty much knew the answer. Or at least I assumed that she had no idea, or she would have already told me, or more importantly the police.

  She shook her head as I expected. “At least now the police can’t think I had anything to do with it. Do you know they were here questioning me? As if I would ever do anything to my husband,” she said, a fresh round of tears pouring out of her eyes.

  “That’s normal. They have to check out everyone,” I said, trying to make her feel better. It was true. The first suspect in these cases were family; even I knew that.

  “But they were treating me like a criminal,” she wailed. “I love my husband. I wouldn’t do anything to harm him. Why don’t they understand that?”

  Maybe I was being callous and I understood she was distraught, but she’d said how much she loved her husband so many times that it started to seem less than genuine, like she was trying to convince me. Maybe that was what the police thought and that was why they kept questioning her for so long. However, it wasn’t my place to say anything. I wanted her to calm down so I could maybe get some more information.

  “Candy, really. You can’t let what the police said bother you. They’re doing their job by asking anyone who was around your husband where he might possibly be. They do that to eliminate suspects.”

  “What am I supposed to do now? I just want my husband back.”

  “Well, who could possibly want to kidnap your husband? Can you think of anyone, even if it seems far-fetched?”

  “Thaddeus doesn’t have any enemies. Everyone loves him.”

  While I didn’t disagree that President Stoddard was a nice person, everyone had someone that didn’t like them. The fact was he was missing and if this indeed was a kidnapping that meant someone really didn’t like him. And his wife seemed the most logical person to know. So why didn’t she have any suggestions?

  Chapter 8

  After spending another hour calming her down but not getting any more useful information, I finally left Candy’s and immediately headed over to see Don, who was still in the office. I texted him that I was on my way and walked straight to his desk and sat down when I got there. He looked very happy to see me. “What brings you here again so soon?” Though that might change once I answered his question.

  “I just left Candy’s.”

  “Olivia, I told you—”

  I held my hand to stop him. “I know, I know, but she called me and asked me to come over. What was I supposed to do? Say no?”

  “What did she want?” he asked with a sigh, clearly resigned to the fact I wasn’t going to listen to him and stay away.

  “She told me she got a ransom note and she was freaked out. She wanted me to come over and look at it.”

&nbs
p; He slammed his fist on the desk making me jump. “Please tell me she called the police, or you called the police if she didn’t,” he snapped.

  I squirmed a little. While I totally understood where he was coming from, I also understood where she was coming from. She was freaked out that someone might kill her husband if she told the police, so of course her first reaction wasn’t going to be to call the police. Surely, he would understand that?

  “The police haven’t been called yet, but before you get all bent out of shape, hear me out. The note said don’t call the police or you’ll never see your husband again. So, what do you expect her to do? She’s worried about her husband,” I said imploringly, wanting him to understand.

  He sat there, glaring at me although it didn’t scare me, and I knew why he was mad. I just needed to convince him of the legitimacy of why Candy—yes, me too—didn’t call the police. I opened up the photo app on my phone, as I had taken a picture of the ransom note and I slid it across to him.

  “Here’s what it said. Feel free to send it to yourself. And I know you’re mad, but that’s why I came straight here. I need you to tell me how we tell the police without the people who kidnapped him knowing we went to the police. That could cause something to happen to him. I couldn’t live with myself if they killed him because they knew I went to the cops and neither could Candy, but we both know the police need to be notified.” Well, I did. I wasn’t so sure Candy wanted the police to know, but this wasn’t something to keep secret. Don was right about that. I just wanted to make sure it was done the right way.

  “I’m not unsympathetic, really, I’m not. I do understand where she’s coming from. But leaving the police out is never a good idea. Contrary to what people think, it makes things worse. The police are trained for this kind of stuff,” he said, sighing.