“He’s in his office. I’ll let him know you are here. Must be something to bring him in on a Saturday.” She vanished down a cinder block hallway and reappeared seconds later with a short balding man in tow. The dean buttoned his jacket as he came toward the front desk. “Detectives. I’m David Potts. Please come back.”
They followed and soon found themselves in an office.
Potts motioned for them to sit in the twin chairs in front of his desk. “I pulled the school records for Lisa, Sara and Eva as you requested and was reviewing them. Lisa and Sara came from good families and both earned good grades. Smart kids.”
Garrison flipped through Lisa’s file. Her record appeared impressive. “Played tennis in addition to her sorority responsibilities.”
“And played tennis like a pro. I remember her. She was a sweet girl. Naïve and silly at times but a good kid.”
“And Sara?”
“Another smart one,” the dean said, handing her file to Garrison. “She liked to ride horses.” He pulled off his glasses. “I just don’t understand why anyone would want to kill either woman. Both went on to live very successful lives.”
Garrison sat back in his chair studying Lisa’s young face. She’d been much heavier in college. And her hair was dark and curly. She’d been a far cry from the woman she’d become.
“I’ve met Eva Rayburn.” Garrison didn’t offer an opinion. He wanted Potts’s perspective on her.
“Yes, I imagine as a policeman you would know of her.” Potts didn’t hide his disgust. “She caused quite a scandal. Fund-raising and admissions turned into a nightmare for several years.”
“What can you tell me about her?” Garrison was very curious about Eva. He wanted to know who she’d been before Josiah had raped her.
“Eva Rayburn scored off the charts and those scores earned her a full scholarship. In fact, the school paid Eva a stipend just so she would come to Price.” He opened the yearbook to a photo collage page and pointed to a page with four girls. Arm-in-arm, they all smiled into the camera. “I remember she was a bit of a crusader. Once she joined the sorority house, she got them to volunteer at an animal shelter and a day care center.”
“Anything else?”
“The schoolwork came very easy for her and she skated through her courses. The girl could have done anything. If she’d stayed on track she’d have graduated in a couple of years.”
“Who’s in this picture?” He pointed to the fourth woman. She wore a bright smile and had wrapped her arm around Eva.
“Kristen Hall.”
“She appears to be good friends with Eva.”
“I suppose.”
“What’s that mean? They’d have been unlikely friends? Do you have contact information for Kristen?”
Potts turned to his computer. “I should. She’s a generous donor.” He tapped a few keys. “Here it is. Kristen Hall.” He wrote down her address and phone number and pushed the paper across the desk to Garrison.
Garrison glanced at the note then folded the paper in half, making the crease extra sharp. “Lisa, Sara and Kristen were from the same world. You consider it odd they’d pull Eva into their circle?”
“At the time I didn’t give it much consideration, but after your call yesterday I did a little digging. I’d forgotten that Kristen was on academic probation. And Lisa’s grades had slipped the end of her junior year. After Eva joined the sorority their grades shot up.”
“How much?”
“A lot. Kristen wanted into a top graduate school and if her grades didn’t skyrocket her senior year, her chances would have been nil. Suddenly, she befriends the smartest girl in the school. And her grades rise.”
“Were they cheating?” Garrison said.
“Cheat’s a strong word. Nothing was ever proven. I like to think Eva tutored them a great deal. But after the murder and the fire, who can say?”
“What about Josiah Cross?”
Potts frowned. “Smart. Ambitious. Competitive. He ranked top in the school academically until Eva arrived. He dated Kristen.”
“Was he capable of rape?”
Potts pulled off his glasses. For a moment he didn’t answer. “Before his father died, I’d have avoided that question. Now I can say freely that Josiah proved to be a handful. Other girls complained, but the problems always went away. We were very glad to see him graduating in the spring.”
“Any girls you remember who filed complaints against Josiah?”
“Price purges our security records as soon as a student graduates.”
Garrison held on to his temper with a white-knuckled grip. The school knew they’d had a problem with Cross and had chosen to look the other way. “You know guys like Cross don’t stop. They just get meaner and smarter and keep hurting.”
Potts straightened. “Once they leave the campus they are not my problem. ”
“No, they become mine.”
The detectives left the school. Once they were in their car, Malcolm said, “So Eva, the brain child, gets raped and convicted of manslaughter. Her friends abandon her. She gets out of jail then decides to return to Alexandria. Within months of her arrival, Lisa and Sara are dead. She’d be smart enough to pull off and cover up a few murders.”
Garrison frowned, knowing Malcolm made sense. But he didn’t believe Eva had killed those women. “I want to talk to Kristen Hall. ”
Micah Cross chose Torpedo Factory Art Center on Union Street in Old Town Alexandria for their meeting place. The Torpedo Factory had been a bomb factory years ago and now had been subdivided into over eight tiny glass cubicles that housed artists from all around the region.
Though the aisle ways bustled this time of day, almost all of the visitors were tourists. Most were tired, hungry and didn’t care about a single man studying the art in the individual shop windows. If per chance someone recognized him, he could simply say he was shopping for art. He loved art and no one would doubt the explanation.
Micah always thought about the angles, options and scenarios. Like a chess player, he tried to stay one step ahead, a trait he’d learned in his father’s house. To avoid the wrath of Darius or Josiah’s cruelty, he had to plan ahead. Habits died hard.
He stood in front of a crystal sculptor’s booth staring at the vases, paperweights and plates. The pieces were all molded out of highly polished glass and caught the midday light, refracting it into a rainbow of colors. The artisan glanced up several times from her register, noting that he was studying her work. Finally, the third time she looked up, she moved around her small counter toward him.
That was his cue to smile and move on to the next vendor.
He wandered from booth to booth until he came across one with an OUT TO LUNCH sign on the door. The vendor’s sign promised the store would reopen at two, in fifteen minutes. That gave him the time he needed.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” The familiar voice behind him had him stiffening but he didn’t turn.
He leaned deeper over the display case, not moving a fraction toward the speaker. Anger dripped from his words. “I told you to be careful.”
“I am being careful. No one knows anything. ”
“I don’t like being questioned in a murder investigation. “ That was a lie. His body had hummed with excitement as he’d talked to Garrison; he’d run scenarios wondering how he’d have done the deed and then covered it up.
Soft laughter followed. “You like all this don’t you?”
“No.”
“Of course you do. I can see the way your hands tremble even now. Why did you visit King’s? Did you apologize for the sins of your father and brother or did you go to see her because it gave you a secret thrill?”
“That’s not—”
“Spare me. I know the real you.”
Micah tried to keep his gaze on the crystal, tried to be discreet, but he found he had to turn and look this monster in the eyes.
Only, when he turned, he discovered he was alone again.
Garrison and Malc
olm arrived at Kristen’s condo located on the top floor of a chic building constructed of sleek glass and steel and complicated by all the amenities a young wealthy professional expected. He pressed the ringer.
High heels clicked across as a stone floor and seconds later she snapped open the front door. Her entire demeanor reflected impatience and anger. “My bags are in the front hall. You can carry them to the car and I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
Garrison stood for a split second and stared. The woman was tall and her black slim-cut dress accentuated a narrow waist and full breasts. Red hair was styled into a flawless chignon and large diamonds winked from her ears and from the brooch on her shoulder.
He pulled out his badge. “We’re not with the limo service. We’re Alexandria Police. I’m Detective Garrison and this is my partner, Detective Kier.”
For a moment she stared at them as if they’d lost their minds. “Police? I didn’t call the police.”
“No, ma’am. We’ve come to ask you a couple of questions.”
“What kind of questions?” The more he stared at her the more flaws he saw. The icy green of her eyes had a brittle edge and her manicured fingers were a bit too sharp for his tastes. “We’d like to talk to you about Lisa Black and Sara Miller.”
She stared at them again as if gauging her words carefully before she spoke. “I don’t have much time. I’m catching a plane.”
“It shouldn’t take too long.” Garrison’s hackles rose.
“Fine. Sure. Come in.” She stepped aside.
The room projected stylish. Whitewashed wood, blues and yellows and too many ruffles. It all looked French, but Garrison wouldn’t swear to it.
Kristen closed the front door and folded her arms over her chest. A neatly manicured finger tapped her arm. “What do you need?”
Garrison didn’t rush. She could miss her damn plane for all he cared. “When did you speak to Lisa last?”
She raised a plucked brow but showed no signs of sadness. “I read about her in the paper. Tragic. I haven’t seen her lately. I did see her at our five-year reunion a few years ago. But not since.”
“You haven’t spoken or communicated in anyway?”
“No. I’m not sure what this has to do with anything.
Just because a couple of my friends from college died doesn’t mean it connects to me.”
“A couple of friends? I mentioned Lisa Black had died but not Sara Miller.”
“Well, I know about Sara Miller.”
“From? ”
“Eva Rayburn came by yesterday. She went to school with us and served time in jail for killing her boyfriend. Very unpleasant visit.”
Garrison stiffened. “Really?”
“I didn’t listen to her ranting. In her own twisted way she’s trying to pin what happened a decade ago on me.”
“In what way?”