Chapter Forty-two
Jake hurried through the parking lot, going against the crowd heading toward the school entrance. One of the mothers looked over at him curiously, so he slowed his pace as he made a beeline for the BMW. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself. He hadn’t thought about the possibility he’d see the BMW here, but he’d been focused on Ryan and Pam.
Jake threaded his way through the crowd, squeezed sideways between parked cars, and finally reached the BMW. It was the correct model, a 535, and its Pennsylvania plate read HKE-7553. It had to be the same car as the one in the photograph. His heartbeat quickened. So Voloshin’s killer was at Kathleen’s memorial service. It seemed risky, unless the killer was someone who would have been conspicuous by his absence, the way Ryan would have been if he hadn’t come.
Jake glanced around and ascertained that no one was watching him, so he walked to the driver’s side of the car and tried the door handle, but it was locked. He peeked inside the front seat. The car had a black interior and it was hard to see in the dark, but it looked empty and gave no clue as to the driver’s identity. He peered in the backseat, but it was also empty. He walked around the trunk and checked for the car dealership, or anything to give him more information about the driver, but there wasn’t one listed. The license plate had a chrome surround, but it read BMW, with no dealership.
Jake slipped his hand in his pocket, took out his phone, and snapped a picture of the car’s license plate, then turned away and hurried back to the school entrance, adrenalized. So the BMW driver would be at the service tonight, and the more Jake thought about it, the more credibility it lent to his theory. The driver had known Kathleen, maybe even loved her, and he could have killed Voloshin because Voloshin was blackmailing him about their relationship—or maybe in a fit of rage, when he went to Voloshin’s apartment and saw that Voloshin was stalking her.
Jake joined the crowd going into the entrance, turning his head away from the TV cameras and scrutinizing the people around him. The killer could be any one of the dads, who looked just like him—a moving mass of crow’s-feet, expensive haircuts, and Patagonia jackets slipped over shirts and ties, because nobody had time to change after work. They tossed away forbidden cigarettes, checked their email, or talked on the phone, making their last calls.
Jake caught snippets of their conversations—you have to be kidding me, Tom, you didn’t file it yet?—or with their wives—I don’t have time to call the roofer, can you?—or their kids—so how was school, buddy? None of them sounded or seemed like a killer, which made Jake suspect all of them, everyone around him. Then he realized he wouldn’t have to play guessing games anymore. He could leave the memorial service, stake-out the BMW, and see whoever came to claim the car.
Jake’s heartbeat picked up, and he thought of a new plan. He would confront the killer and warn him to stay away from Ryan and Pam—or risk exposure to the police. It would be piling one corrupt bargain on top of another, but it would keep Pam and Ryan safe. He reached the entrance doors, went through, and crossed the threshold into a large, tiled entrance area leading to the administrative offices and the auditorium.
CHASER PRIDE, read a poster-painted banner, and the crowd flowed in two messy lines to the auditorium doors, which had been propped open. Suddenly it struck him that Pam and Ryan were here, unprotected. The killer would know who they were, but they wouldn’t know who he was. The killer could be following Ryan or taking a seat next to Pam, this very minute.
Jake pressed forward, looking for Pam or Ryan, but he didn’t see them anywhere. He didn’t know if they’d gone inside, but assumed they had, knowing that Pam was in a hurry and she’d seen that parking space. He shifted to the right, went around a large family, and joined the other line into the auditorium, which was moving faster. Still, no Pam or Ryan.
Jake finally got inside the auditorium, which was standing room only in back, and wedged his way through the standees to find Pam and Ryan, but they weren’t there. He scanned the audience for Pam and Ryan, but there were so many people it was impossible to see them. Faculty, staff, parents, and younger kids filled the seats, walked down rows, tilted their heads together in conversation, checked smartphones, opened programs, or hoisted toddlers onto their laps. Many of the female students were crying, their arms around each other. Mothers wiped tears from their eyes, and fathers craned their necks toward the front, where the program was beginning.
Jake defaulted to looking for Ryan because he was so tall and would be sitting with a very tall group, the basketball team. He began methodically, noticing that two aisles ran the length of the auditorium, dividing the seats into three sections. He checked the leftmost section for the basketball team, but no luck. He checked the middle section, but didn’t see them there. He shifted to the rightmost section and finally spotted a tall bunch of scruffy boys on the far right section, at the middle.
He edged forward and looked for Ryan, but he wasn’t sitting with the team and there was an empty seat at the end of the row. Jake swallowed hard, beginning to be afraid. What if Ryan and Pam were still outside? What if the killer had intercepted them on the way in? He didn’t want to leave and go see until he was sure they weren’t in the auditorium.
The crowd quieted, and Jake sensed the program was about to start. He glanced at the stage, a sleek maple curve framed by maroon curtains, and a middle-aged woman tapped a microphone on the lectern. Next to her were the flags of the United States and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, then a row of brown folding chairs with some students and school-administration types, and finally, an easel that held an enlarged photograph of Kathleen, framed in black.
Jake’s throat caught, but he looked away. Then it struck him that the speakers were supposed to be seated on the stage and that Sabrina was slated to be a speaker. He looked again at the folding chairs, but Sabrina wasn’t there. And one folding chair remained empty.
“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, faculty, students and family. I am Pamela Coleridge, principal of Concord Chase High School, and I thank you for coming this evening to celebrate the life of Kathleen Lindstrom, a lovely young woman who was taken from us cruelly, and too soon…”
Jake tuned the speaker out, his heart thudding in his chest. The empty chair on stage was proof that Ryan and Pam must still be in the parking lot, unless Sabrina was sitting with her team.
“… this program will be brief, and time won’t permit us to acknowledge all of the special people here tonight, except that I would like to take a moment to acknowledge Kathleen’s mother Grace and her father William, both of whom are with us, at this impossibly difficult time. They’re seated in the front row…”
Heads turned this way and that as everybody tried to see Kathleen’s parents, and murmurs and sniffles rippled through the crowd. Jake tried to find the girls track team, but there was nothing to distinguish them from any other female students.
“… our first speaker will be Ms. Talia Kelso, who teaches computer science and runs our computer lab, which, as you may know, was Kathleen’s home away from home. Ms. Kelso, please come up…”
Jake noticed on the stage that one of the teachers, a petite African-American woman with a thick braid, was getting up from the folding chair and crossing to the lectern. He had to find Ryan and Pam, or Sabrina, so he kept scanning the crowd. He surveyed the rows for them, getting more worried by the minute, as the speaker continued her speech.
“… Kathleen had a remarkable aptitude with computers, but it was her happy, upbeat way that all of us loved. I will never forget Kathleen and neither will any of my teaching assistants in the computer lab. Thank you, and now I would like to introduce our next speaker, Janine Mae Lamb, a junior who was a very good friend of Kathleen. Janine Mae?”
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.