“We are.”
“And you trust me?” She nodded and he went on. “So why haven’t you mentioned any of this before today?”
She crossed to the trash and dropped in the bag. “It’s complicated.”
“No it’s not. We’re friends, you trust me. Or we’re not and you don’t.”
“It’s not about you or our partnership, Jake. It’s about me. That girl I told you about—she doesn’t exist anymore. I left her behind.”
“You left her behind?” he repeated. “How do you do that?”
“You just do.”
“You can’t run away from your past. It always catches up to you.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a bit too philosophical for your pay grade, Billings? Besides, I didn’t run away from my past. I just moved on.”
“Okay.” He climbed off the car, tossed his trash in the receptacle. “Got a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Why’d Stark have that clipping?”
It was a good question. One that was nagging at her. “I’m wondering that myself, Billings. It’s got to be a coincidence, but it just doesn’t feel right.”
CHAPTER FIVE
8:00 A.M.
Chief Cadwell looked anxious. He didn’t smile as he waved them in, didn’t share his usual good ol’ boy anecdotes or laid-back, small town pleasantries.
Life in Harmony was different this morning.
He folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “You have an update?”
“Better than that,” Miranda said. “We’ve got a lead on a possible suspect. Around midnight, Stark messaged a woman on Facebook and invited her to come over.”
Jake jumped in. “She’s a fellow ULH professor. Name is—” he looked at his notes “—Rhonda Peale.”
“Hot damn,” Buddy said, thumping his fist on his desk. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“We’re going to question her as soon as we notify Stark’s family.”
“Already done. Did it myself.”
Miranda couldn’t hide her surprise. “Without me or Jake?”
“Considering Ian Stark’s contribution to this community, I thought it should come from me. Alone.”
She understood. Although the two weren’t close friends, as two of Harmony’s most influential men they shared a kind of bond of responsibility to the community and each other.
“They were devastated.” His voice shook slightly. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
“We’ll still need to talk to them,” she said softly.
“I told them you would,” he went on. “Of course, they assured me that they would do everything in their power to help find their boy’s killer.”
Miranda glanced at Jake. “I say we interview Rhonda Peale as soon as possible.”
“Agreed.”
She turned back to Buddy. “This could be a case of a woman with an ax to grind. From what I saw online, Stark was quite the player.”
Chief Cadwell’s gaze seemed to sharpen. “Anything there that’s going to make the university look bad in the press?”
“From what I saw online, no. But we’ve only begun digging.”
“President Stark was quite anxious to protect the school’s reputation. Keep me apprised of everything you uncover, and I mean everything.”
Miranda found it odd that Richard Stark’s father was so concerned with the school’s image at a time like this, but maybe that went with the job. “Looks like Stark was writing a novel,” she said. “Found notebooks with characters and plot points in a desk drawer.”
“Main character’s a dominatrix,” Jake offered. “Maybe he was doing a little research when he got himself whacked. It’d explain the kinky situation we found him in.”
The chief retrieved a roll of antacids from his desk drawer and popped a couple into his mouth. “You got his phone?”
“Not at the scene,” Miranda replied. “Which means either he didn’t have one or our perp took it—the most probable explanation.”
Cadwell agreed. “Let’s get subpoena paperwork to Judge Jackson. I want Stark’s call logs and text records ASAP.”
She looked at Jake. “You want to get it started? I need to speak to the chief privately.”
Jake frowned slightly but started for the door. “I’m on it.”
Miranda watched him go, then turned back to her boss. “One last thing. In Stark’s desk, I found an old newspaper clipping. From that summer.”
He knew exactly what summer she was talking about. It’d been his first year as HPD chief; he had been involved.
He sank back to his chair. “What the hell?”
“That’s pretty much the way I felt.”
“Why’d Stark have it?”
“I have no idea.”
“Did you know him?”
“No.”
“Your families, did they—”
“God, no.”
He frowned. “Had you ever met him?”
“Not that I recall. It’s got to be some strange coincidence. I don’t know why else he’d have it. I collected it for the sake of transparency.”
“You’re sure you never met him?”
“Positive.”
“And this won’t interfere with the investigation in any way?”
She held his gaze. “Why would it?”
“Good. Thanks for bringing it to my attention.” He waved her toward the door. “The press is going to be all over this—and us. I want something solid to share with them as soon as possible.”
CHAPTER SIX
9:00 A.M.
Rhonda Peale lived in a charming bungalow in the university area. Small, with a wide front porch and gabled roof, this house—like the others in this neighborhood—reflected the style of the post–World War II housing boom.
Miranda parked in the driveway, directly behind a compact white SUV. She and Jake climbed out, slamming their doors in unison and falling into step together. They crossed the porch and rang the bell.
And attractive dark-haired woman answered the door. Miranda held up her shield. “Professor Peale?”
“Yes?”
“Police. Harmony PD. We need to ask you a few questions. May we come in?”
“What kind of questions?”
“Do you know Richard Stark?”
“I do.”
“How are you two acquainted?”
“We’re both professors over at the university. But I suspect you already knew that. What’s this about?”
Jake stepped in. “So, your relationship with Richard Stark is strictly professional?”
She hesitated a moment, then shook her head. “We’ve gone out a few times.”
“A few times,” Miranda repeated. “You weren’t a couple?”
“Definitely not.” She drew her dramatically arched eyebrows together. “Again, what’s this about?”
“Where were you last night?”
“Here. Grading—” She bit off the last, frowned, and moved her gaze between them. “Has something happened to Rich?”
“He’s dead,” Jake said softly.
For a split second she stared blankly at him, then turned and walked into the house.
Miranda and Jake followed her, closing the door behind them.
They found her in her living room, slumped on the couch, face in her hands.
“Professor Peale,” Miranda said quietly, “can I get you something? Or call someone?”
She shook her head, but didn’t look up. When she finally did, her eyes were wet. Miranda wondered if the tears were real or if she had covered her face to have the time to manufacture them.
“Do his parents know?” she asked.