Keep Quiet (34 page)

Jake paused, recognizing the name of the girl that Ryan had wanted to date before the accident. He watched as a pretty, petite girl in a black dress rose uncertainly on stage and walked to the lectern with her head downcast, her long blonde hair obscuring her face. Ms. Kelso hovered behind the lectern as Janine Mae reached it and grasped its edges for support. When the young girl raised her eyes to the audience, Jake could tell, even from a distance, that she was crestfallen and already teary.

“Hi, everyone,” Janine Mae said, her voice shaking, her drawl pained. “Kathleen’s mom and dad, Mr. and Mrs. Lindstrom … I know how much you loved Kathleen … and I’m so sorry about your loss … and I wanted to, uh, speak about her tonight … I don’t know if I can, but … I’ll try … for her.”

Jake swallowed hard, and the audience fell into an anguished silence, holding its collective breath at the rawness of the girl’s grief.

“I’m up here because I just really want everyone to know Kathleen … the way I did.” Janine Mae wiped her eyes with a small hand. “We met, uh, the first day of track, and since we were both new to Concord Chase … and, uh, neither of us knew anybody … we bonded, like, uh, instantly.” Janine Mae sniffled, and her shoulders began to shake. “You never would have known that Kathleen was new … she was so friendly and open-hearted … and she trusted everyone. We only knew each other for a few months … but we really got super close … and … we told each other … everything.” Janine burst into a sob, making a heartrending hiccup into the microphone. “Kathleen was my best friend … and now she’s … she’s gone … and I can’t believe it…” Janine Mae broke down, and Ms. Kelso stepped forward, cradled the girl, and walked her offstage while the crowd murmured and sniffled anew.

Principal Coleridge hurried to the lectern, adjusting the microphone. “Thank you, Janine Mae, for your very heartfelt words. You said all that you needed to, and I know we all agree. Our next speaker is Christopher Slater, who is president of the Concord Chase Chamber of Commerce…”

A tall man in a suit rose and strode to the lectern, but Jake resumed looking for Pam, Ryan, or Sabrina. He migrated to the left to change his angle on the audience and get a view of the rightmost section, in front.

“… I’m honored to be here tonight to speak about Kathleen,” the speaker was saying. “I was so impressed with Kathleen when she came to my office on behalf of the travel track team. She was trying to raise money for new uniforms, but she didn’t simply ask…”

Jake realized the speaker was telling the same story that Sabrina had told them, and tuned him out. He wedged his way through the crowd, excusing himself, and managed to get to the left side of the auditorium, which gave him a better view of the rightmost section. Still no luck.

“… Kathleen proposed that the track team would work on the weekends, stuffing envelopes for the Chamber of Commerce, and donate their pay to the team itself. Kathleen further proposed that the Chamber should match the funds and sponsor the team…”

Jake couldn’t wait another minute. Pam and Ryan weren’t in the auditorium, and anything was possible. He made his way to the exit, squeezing through the standees.

“… in a world where too many people expect things to be given to them, Kathleen was willing to sing for her supper. My wife and I have three young daughters, and we hope that they grow up to be as exemplary as she…”

Jake had reached the exit door when he noticed movement on the left side of the auditorium. A side door opened in the wall, and Pam ducked inside, followed by an obviously flustered Sabrina, then Ryan, who hung his head.

“… I must say, I agreed with Kathleen on the spot, and my fellow Chamber members and I are proud to sponsor the team. My colleagues on the board and I are thrilled to see our name and logo on the team shirts, hats, and the gym bags…”

Jake exhaled with relief, feeling his every muscle relax. Pam and Ryan stopped and stood by the side door, leaning against the wall, and he knew they would be there for the program, safe and sound in plain view. Sabrina hurried down the aisle, climbed the steps to the stage, and scooted behind the speaker, who kept talking.

“… I will never forget the times that Kathleen and her merry band of runners invaded my offices, to stuff envelopes for the Chamber of Commerce. We keep a very professional atmosphere, even on the weekends, but Kathleen brought her own brand of youthful energy to the place. She shook up even the staid Concordia Corporate Center…”

Jake’s ears pricked up at the mention of Concordia Corporate Center, and he took a second look at the speaker, who was a handsome man, probably in his forties, with lanky blond hair. He wore a stylish dark suit, and his smooth, confident manner bespoke a born salesman. Jake wondered who he was and glanced at the open program of a woman near him. The program read,
CHRIS SLATER, PRESIDENT, CONCORD CHASE CHAMBER OF COMMERCE; PRINCIPAL SHAREHOLDER, CS REAL ESTATE DEVELOPMENT, LLC
.

“… Kathleen came to the office many times, to get the job done, and I came to know her well. Of course, being a budding graphic designer, she told us what was wrong with our Chamber website, which you can imagine, didn’t please my conservative old board very much…”

The audience smiled and sniffled, and Jake began to put two and two together. Slater was a charming, attractive, and successful man who knew Kathleen well, had met with her several times, and helped her find corporate sponsorship for the travel track team. A man like Slater would be catnip for a young girl, especially one who needed a father figure. And Slater’s offices were in the Concordia Corporate Center, so he knew about Dolomite Road.

“… I’ve gone on long enough, although in my own defense, I had been asked to stall to give our final speaker, Sabrina Moravia, a chance to arrive. So thank you for your attention tonight, and again, my wife and I, together with the Chamber of Commerce, offer our deepest sympathies to Kathleen’s mother and father. We share your grief. Now, I will yield the floor…”

Slater flashed a charming smile, strode from the lectern, and sat down. Kathleen was a gorgeous young girl who could have tempted even the most married of men, and Jake got a hunch. Maybe the killer wasn’t in the audience, at all. Maybe the killer was on the stage.

Meanwhile, Sabrina took the lectern, gripped the sides, and cleared her throat. “I am the captain of the Concord Chase girls’ track team, the Lady Chasers, and I thank you all for coming tonight…”

Jake tuned out her speech and mulled it over. Voloshin could have been stalking Kathleen, seen her and Slater together in the BMW when it was parked on Dolomite, then tried to blackmail Slater the same way he tried to blackmail Jake. Slater had a wife and kids, so he would have wanted to keep any relationship he had with Kathleen quiet, which made him a good target for blackmail. Plus Slater was obviously successful, so he had the money to pay. And Slater’s motivation for killing Voloshin could have been that either he didn’t want to pay the blackmail or he didn’t trust Voloshin.

Sabrina was saying, “Mr. Slater told the same story about Kathleen that I was going to, but I can tell it from a different view,
her
view, which will tell you more about her. We were all so worried about going to his offices and meeting this important businessman, but Kathleen told us not to worry, that he was a normal guy and we should believe in ourselves…”

Jake began to feel as if his hunch was sound. All he had to do to verify it was get to the BMW before Slater did. He focused again on the stage, where Sabrina was finishing her speech. The principal was getting up from her seat to conclude the service, so it was time for Jake to go. He made his way to the back door, slipped into the empty entrance hall, and made a beeline for the exit.

“Jake, that you?” a voice called out behind him.

Jake turned around, and his mouth went dry. Standing in front of a display case with sports trophies was the last person he wanted to see.

Chapter Forty-three

“Jake!” It was Detective Zwerling, standing alone. He was in his dark suit with no overcoat. “What’s your hurry? Trying to beat the traffic?”

Jake slowed his pace, busted. “No, I have to make a phone call.”

“Good, I’ll walk you out.” Detective Zwerling hustled toward him, sliding his leather shoes on the tiled floor, then he fell into step, and they walked to the doors together. “So what brings you here?”

“You know, the memorial service.” Jake told himself to remain calm. The service must have ended, because the crowd filed out of the auditorium doors and surged into the entrance hall, wiping tears, checking phones, and zipping coats.

“Did Ryan know Kathleen Lindstrom?”

“Pardon?” Jake asked, blindsided. He didn’t remember mentioning Ryan’s name to Detective Zwerling. “Uh, no, he didn’t. He came with the basketball team.”

“You came alone, with your son?”

“No, my wife came, too,” Jake answered, hating to bring up Pam. He didn’t know if Detective Zwerling was making conversation or interrogating him, but it felt like the latter. They reached the doors, left the school, and stepped into the cold night air. Jake glanced toward the parking lot, but the BMW was too far away to see in the dark. The crowd flowed noisily around them, and he looked for Slater, but didn’t see him. It would take longer for Slater to get out, since he’d been on the stage. At the fringe of the crowd, the TV klieglights flicked on and cast a pool of light onto the pretty reporter, who raised her microphone and started saying something that Jake couldn’t hear.

“I’d like to meet your wife.” Detective Zwerling half-smiled, his slack jowls draping the corners of his mouth like fleshy curtains. Close-up, his skin looked slightly greasy and he had a five o’clock shadow. “I understand she’s a judge. Where is she?”

“She’s still inside, undoubtedly talking. I wouldn’t wait if I were you.” Jake hadn’t mentioned that Pam was a judge, so they
had
been investigating him. He prayed it would take her a while to get out of the auditorium, so Detective Zwerling couldn’t see she was a brunette, much less
the
brunette. Then he wondered if Detective Zwerling knew that already.

“It’s nice you both came.”

“We wanted to show our respect for the family.”

“How do you know them?”

“We don’t. We came because of the school, the community. To show respect, generally.” Jake tried not to sound nervous, but he kept saying the wrong things. The crowd filled the sidewalk, crossed the road to the parking lots, and scattered to their cars. He sneaked a glance at the lot for the BMW and at the crowd for Slater, but no luck. The TV reporter collared a passing mom for an interview, positioning her in the klieglights that filled the area under the canopy with artificial light.

“Sad case, isn’t it?” Detective Zwerling reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Merits, with a blue Bic lighter stuck in the cellophane. “I hate to see those girls crying. They’re just kids.”

“Yes, it’s very sad.” Jake slid his phone from his pocket. “Excuse me, I’d better make that call—”

“You can’t take a minute to talk? I’m starting to think you don’t like me.” Detective Zwerling made a mock-wounded face as he shook out a cigarette and palmed the lighter. “You like my partner better, don’t you?”

“No, not at all.” Jake forced a smile.

“Come on. Now I
know
you’re a liar. Everybody likes Woohoo better.” Detective Zwerling laughed abruptly, then plugged his mouth with the cigarette, which flopped around while he spoke. “Hell, so do I.”

Jake forced another smile, tense. He scanned the crowd for Slater, who would be easy to spot, tall and blond. The BMW seemed to be in the same parking space, a dark line in the far section of the lot.

“I can’t figure it, can you? What kind of person hits a young girl and doesn’t even stop?”

“I have no idea.” Jake felt guilt-stricken, but told himself not to let emotions get the better of him. The night echoed with the hoarse noise of engines starting, and white and red taillights flashed as cars left spaces in all sections of the lot.

“At first I thought the driver was a drunk.” Detective Zwerling lit his cigarette and blew out a cone of acrid smoke. “Usually is.”

“I bet.” Jake had to shake Detective Zwerling but didn’t know how.

“They turn themselves in after they sober up. First thing Monday morning, we get a call. They’re lawyered up by then.”

“Really.” Jake glanced again at the section of the parking lot with the BMW, but still couldn’t see it. Cars were leaving the lot where the BMW was parked, but he thought it was still there, in its dark line. Slater wasn’t among the crowd, which kept spilling out of the school, so Jake still had a chance.

“We can’t prove anything that late and they know it. Standard operating procedure for degenerates.”

“That’s terrible.”

“But we didn’t get any call yesterday morning. Still haven’t. I checked. Lindstrom’s not my case, but we’re a small department.” Detective Zwerling’s hooded eyes watched Jake through the cigarette smoke. “Concord Chase is a small community. I didn’t realize how small until today. After we saw you, we went to Mr. Voloshin’s place of employment. He worked at a company called GreenTech. Did he mention that to you?”

“No.” Jake felt a bolt of panic, but tried not to betray himself. More engines started, and headlights sliced through the darkness as cars swung onto the road leading to the exit.

“It turns out that Kathleen Lindstrom worked at GreenTech, too. Part-time. Her mother got her the job. She’s the web designer there. Are you sure Voloshin didn’t mention it to you?”

“No, not at all.” Jake swallowed hard. The crowd kept flowing to the parking lots, and the TV reporter moved closer and collared another parent to interview. The klieglights followed her, casting a bright halo that Jake couldn’t see around. If Slater left the building and walked behind the lights, Jake could miss him.

“What’s up, Jake? You looking for someone?”

“My wife and son, when they come out.”

“Oh. As I was saying, the employees at GreenTech were all upset. It’s like a one-two punch, if you think about it. Last week they lost Kathleen in the hit-and-run. Last night they lost Voloshin in the murder.” Detective Zwerling spoke casually, as if he were thinking aloud. Cigarette smoke leaked from between his thin lips. “Quite a coincidence, don’t you think? It’s a small company, and they lost two employees in a matter of days. What’re the odds, eh?”