Seth blinked and squinted at the computer screen in the medical examiner’s office, but the webpage still said the same thing.
Sixty-eight percent.
Eden had a D in chemistry.
How can that be?
Eden got straight As. No exceptions. What the hell was wrong with her chemistry class? He swallowed and studied the rest of her grades. Three Cs and a B. What was going on? They weren’t final grades; they reflected where she stood at the middle of the term. But still… a D? He reached for his cell phone, trying to get a grip on his temper. He knew college wasn’t like high school and didn’t grade the same, but Eden was sharp. She had the skills to succeed. He dialed her cell.
Why hadn’t she told him she was struggling?
He’d meant to check her grades for weeks, but he’d been wrapped up in the hope for the new job. Maybe he should have looked at them earlier. Was it too late to improve them?
Her phone continued to ring. He held his breath. Voice mail. He hung up.
He stared at the computer screen for another thirty seconds, mind racing. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t answered. He was a bit worked up and might not listen well. He glanced at his watch. Seven P.M.
He sent a text: CALL ME.
He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair. The numbers taunted him from the screen. Two of the Cs were nearly Ds.
Was the divorce upsetting her?
A million questions raced through his mind and he mentally set them aside. He needed to talk with her before he jumped to conclusions. Looking at the calendar, he realized it’d been more than a week since he spoken with his daughter. That wasn’t like her. He’d called a few times but had never reached her. He scrolled through his texts. Two days ago, she’d said she’d call him that evening. He checked his call log for missed calls.
Nothing.
All the texts before that were typical teen. Had to get to class, had to study, out with friends.
No time to talk to Dad.
He tossed his cell on the desk. Was he overreacting? How often did he talk to his uncle when he was at college? Once a month? Maybe?
The grades worried him. That wasn’t like Eden.
Should he text Jennifer? Ask if she’d heard anything? His phone taunted him from the desk. Everybody was a simple click away these days. Even Jennifer. But he was trying to create distance between them, get her adjusted to not hearing from him. Contacting her about every little issue wasn’t going to help. The final divorce papers had arrived this afternoon for him to sign. No doubt Jennifer had received them, too. This was not the best day to get in touch.
If he didn’t hear back from Eden by tomorrow, he’d contact Jennifer.
Decision made. He hated postponing issues, but there was nothing he could fix tonight unless Eden called him.
“Seth? Are you in there?”
The panic in Victoria’s voice from the hallway had Seth out of his seat. She dashed into the office, alarm in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
The Tori he remembered didn’t raise her voice. And he doubted this new one did either.
“There was a shooting at the memorial for Glory McCarthy.” She rushed her words, her chest heaving.
“What? Just now?”
“Jerry called me. He saw it on the news. He wanted to know if Lacey was there.”
“She went, right?” Seth asked.
“She told me she was going. I’ve tried to call her, and I’ve texted her.” Victoria looked at her phone again. “I haven’t heard back.”
“Did the news say anyone was killed?”
“Just bumps and bruises so far.”
Seth took a deep breath. “That’s good. Let’s see what’s going on.” He sat down and pulled up the website for a local news station. “There’s a whopping five sentences on their page that says nothing new. And the story was posted ten minutes ago. I don’t think they know much yet.”
“Trinity was going, too.”
Seth looked at her face, leaning close over his shoulder to read the screen. Her pupils were dilated, making her eyes darker than normal. This close he could see every eyelash.
“Why would someone do that? So utterly stupid.” She pressed her lips together and lines formed between her eyebrows. “How many people were there?”
“It says the place was packed, but police caught the gunman. Lots of cops were there just to show support, so that was lucky. Sounds like half of Portland attended.”
Victoria’s phone gave a delicate melody. “Lacey?” she asked into the phone.
Seth heard a female respond on the other end. The lines eased out of Victoria’s face.
“Did you see Trinity?” The lines eased further. “Oh, thank God. What happened?”
Seth’s spine relaxed. The teenager had been through a lot lately. He liked to see Tori’s fondness for the girl.
How would she get along with Eden?
She closed her eyes as she listened, her posture visibly sagging in relief.
“Where are you?” she asked Lacey. “How’s Trinity holding up?”
Victoria opened her eyes, meeting Seth’s gaze. He’d been studying her, taking advantage of the moment.
She listened intently. “Yes, that doesn’t surprise me one bit. Poor thing.”
“Poor thing” wasn’t a good description of Trinity in Seth’s book. He’d seen a scrappy kid, who listened and looked very carefully before she spoke or moved. She seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.
“Have you talked to the police?” She paused. “None of you saw anything?”
A minute later she’d wrapped up the conversation. Seth refreshed the news webpage. No new results.
“She said a fight broke out. It may have possibly started between some teens. Michael hustled them out of the building before the shot was fired.”
“Who’s Michael?” Seth asked.
“A pain in the ass. But he’s actually okay for a reporter.”
“A reporter?” Seth avoided reporters on principle.
“Investigative reporter for The Oregonian. He and Lacey go way back. If I’d been at that memorial and someone started shooting, he’s the guy I’d want on my side.”
“A reporter?” Seth repeated.
“Doesn’t seem right, does it? You’ll understand when you meet him.”
“You say that like I’m about to meet him.”
She nodded. “You are. Something about being at the scene of a shooting has Michael’s curiosity piqued about the death of the girls in Forest Park. We’re about to be interviewed.”
“I don’t want to talk to the press.” Seth had learned in his years as a medical examiner to not talk to the press. A press conference was fine, preferably without press questions if possible. But a one-on-one with a reporter about a huge case? That’s how people got fired. Or humiliated in the paper.
“Of course not, no one does. But this guy can find anybody and anything.”
“So it’s not for an article?”
“No. If there’s anyone who can dig up information on those old murders or these new ones, he’s the guy. I think the police have their hands full trying to solve the recent case. And Detective Callahan knows him. The two of them have worked together before. I don’t think it’ll hurt.”
“You called them murders. You don’t think there’s even a possibility they’re suicides?”
She shook her head. “Callahan told me they can’t find anything in the girls’ history for the past weeks that indicates they were thinking of suicide. No good-bye notes, no depression, no giving away of items, no weird statements on Facebook about life or love. All the friends and family the police have interviewed swear up and down that their friends had things in their lives they were looking forward to. Usually someone will say they’d been down or talking about weird topics. Callahan said he’d strongly suspected murder in the first place, considering how that scene was staged. No shoes, remember?”
Seth nodded, remembering the clean bare feet.
“Someone walked away,” she said grimly.