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Authors: J.T. Ellison
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been their sweet little girl.”
The campus was lit with the colors of fall, fallen leaves strewn across the quads. It seemed serene, tranquil, untouched by the tragedy. Boys played football, and coeds watched them in admiration; students rode their bikes down the street, calling to one another. It was so bucolic, it almost made her nervous. Picture-postcard perfect—the calm before the storm. Clearly news hadn’t spread about the murder. Taylor didn’t know if she’d rather they panic or be unaffected.
They got out of the car and walked to Kirkland Hall, the college’s administration building. Sitting on a stone bench in front of the edifice was a man in his early forties. He had a thick mustache, matching light blond hair, and a shiny badge pinned to the front of his pristine tan uniform. Taylor groaned aloud. The man smiled and gave them a little wave. He didn’t get up, just sat with his legs spread wide in front of him, a small manila folder sitting quietly next to him.
Taylor tried for politeness. “Chief Graber. How are you this fine morning?”
“Not well, not well at all. I assume you’re here because one of my students is dead, and you’ve come to give your condolences. To apologize that no one from Metro bothered to contact me when you discovered the Parthenon girl was a Vandy student. To ask for any and all cooperation my police force can give to your investigation. That about sum it up?”
Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Graber wasn’t going to make this easy. She softened her tone.
“Chief... Charles. You know that the past twenty-four hours have been a madhouse. We’ve only known that Shelby Kincaid was a Vandy student since—”
“Since you ID’d her body, yesterday. For God’s sake, Taylor, did you think I wasn’t going to find out?” Graber jumped up and started to pace the portico. He had a strange gait. One leg seemed to snap in front of him as he walked. Taylor saw Marcus staring and decided it was the perfect moment to introduce him.
“Marcus Wade, I’d like you to meet Charles Graber, chief of the Vanderbilt Campus Police. And a royal pain in my ass.”
“I guess you two already know each other?” Marcus asked.
“Since ninth grade. She dated my little brother at Father Ryan. Broke his heart, too.”
Graber’s tone wasn’t lost on the young detective, and Taylor went crimson under Marcus’s grin.
“Charles, please. Now isn’t the time. We need to focus on Shelby Kincaid. We have a court order for her records. I figured the school’s administration wasn’t going to be terribly cooperative, so we’ve preempted them.”
Graber picked up the manila folder. “And I figured you’d be thorough enough not to show up empty-handed. Here, I’ll trade you.” He handed her the folder. Taylor nodded sharply at Marcus, who pulled out the legal documents from his inside coat pocket. He handed them to Graber, who didn’t even glance at the paperwork.
“I can save you some time, Taylor. I know my way around this campus better than you do. I’m happy to help.”
Taylor caught the note in his voice, and couldn’t help but feel for the man. His campus police were much more than glorified security guards. They had all the powers of a metro police force, only with a smaller area to govern. But he had no jurisdiction over this particular crime. Taylor knew he didn’t want the glory. He was genuinely sorry that one of the school’s students had been murdered. But it was her case, and she wanted to run it her way. And she owed him nothing but civility. He still held a grudge, about his brother, and other things, and she tired quickly of his relentless barbs.
“Tell you what. If we run into trouble, I’ll give you a call, have you smooth the road. Sound okay?”
“Hell, Taylor, when have you ever had any trouble smoothin’ the road? You’ve got a gun. You can shoot your way clear. You do it enough. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
Taylor
The campus was lit with the colors of fall, fallen leaves strewn across the quads. It seemed serene, tranquil, untouched by the tragedy. Boys played football, and coeds watched them in admiration; students rode their bikes down the street, calling to one another. It was so bucolic, it almost made her nervous. Picture-postcard perfect—the calm before the storm. Clearly news hadn’t spread about the murder. Taylor didn’t know if she’d rather they panic or be unaffected.
They got out of the car and walked to Kirkland Hall, the college’s administration building. Sitting on a stone bench in front of the edifice was a man in his early forties. He had a thick mustache, matching light blond hair, and a shiny badge pinned to the front of his pristine tan uniform. Taylor groaned aloud. The man smiled and gave them a little wave. He didn’t get up, just sat with his legs spread wide in front of him, a small manila folder sitting quietly next to him.
Taylor tried for politeness. “Chief Graber. How are you this fine morning?”
“Not well, not well at all. I assume you’re here because one of my students is dead, and you’ve come to give your condolences. To apologize that no one from Metro bothered to contact me when you discovered the Parthenon girl was a Vandy student. To ask for any and all cooperation my police force can give to your investigation. That about sum it up?”
Taylor didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Graber wasn’t going to make this easy. She softened her tone.
“Chief... Charles. You know that the past twenty-four hours have been a madhouse. We’ve only known that Shelby Kincaid was a Vandy student since—”
“Since you ID’d her body, yesterday. For God’s sake, Taylor, did you think I wasn’t going to find out?” Graber jumped up and started to pace the portico. He had a strange gait. One leg seemed to snap in front of him as he walked. Taylor saw Marcus staring and decided it was the perfect moment to introduce him.
“Marcus Wade, I’d like you to meet Charles Graber, chief of the Vanderbilt Campus Police. And a royal pain in my ass.”
“I guess you two already know each other?” Marcus asked.
“Since ninth grade. She dated my little brother at Father Ryan. Broke his heart, too.”
Graber’s tone wasn’t lost on the young detective, and Taylor went crimson under Marcus’s grin.
“Charles, please. Now isn’t the time. We need to focus on Shelby Kincaid. We have a court order for her records. I figured the school’s administration wasn’t going to be terribly cooperative, so we’ve preempted them.”
Graber picked up the manila folder. “And I figured you’d be thorough enough not to show up empty-handed. Here, I’ll trade you.” He handed her the folder. Taylor nodded sharply at Marcus, who pulled out the legal documents from his inside coat pocket. He handed them to Graber, who didn’t even glance at the paperwork.
“I can save you some time, Taylor. I know my way around this campus better than you do. I’m happy to help.”
Taylor caught the note in his voice, and couldn’t help but feel for the man. His campus police were much more than glorified security guards. They had all the powers of a metro police force, only with a smaller area to govern. But he had no jurisdiction over this particular crime. Taylor knew he didn’t want the glory. He was genuinely sorry that one of the school’s students had been murdered. But it was her case, and she wanted to run it her way. And she owed him nothing but civility. He still held a grudge, about his brother, and other things, and she tired quickly of his relentless barbs.
“Tell you what. If we run into trouble, I’ll give you a call, have you smooth the road. Sound okay?”
“Hell, Taylor, when have you ever had any trouble smoothin’ the road? You’ve got a gun. You can shoot your way clear. You do it enough. I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”
Taylor
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