Flighty? What did I know about her friends?
Boyfriends? I did not go into speculations. I told them the truth. She had impressed me as an extremely dedicated, level-headed student. She had dropped by my office a couple of times, presented one story in my class. ‘When I first met her,’ I said, ‘she seemed a bit prudish, but the first short story she wrote was hilarious. It was called “Sexual Positions,” a total knock-down-drag-out comedy.’ Kip Dalton wanted to know if I thought she was promiscuous. I told him I thought she was talented. I got a look from Molly at this, but I didn’t care.
As we walked both detectives back toward their Jeep Detective Dalton gave Molly and me a worldly smile: ‘I’m inclined to think a young woman that age probably met the love of her life and just took off without telling anyone.’ He shrugged indifferently.
‘She’ll probably get around to calling her friends in a day or two and wonder what all the fuss is about.’
‘Not Johnna Masterson,’ I said. Kip Dalton looked at me questioningly. He wanted to hear my theory.
‘She was committed to her work,’ I said. ‘Taking off without saying anything would cost her too much: her teaching assistantship, her future prospects for a teaching position, and a semester of coursework with the grade of F. That kind of stuff happens with undergrads who haven’t invested their own money in their education, but not with a graduate student, certainly not someone like Johnna Masterson. Even if she found the love of her life, they could wait a couple of weeks until the end of the semester.’
‘That’s pretty much what everyone told us,’ Dalton said, apparently still not convinced.
The two men thanked us again for our help and climbed into their Jeep. After Dalton started the car, they sat for several seconds. Finally, Jacobs rolled down the passenger window. ‘You care if I ask you something, professor?’
He spoke softly and I walked toward him, so I could hear him better. No, I didn’t care.
‘Just now you were talking about Miss Masterson in the past tense. I was wondering, why you did that?’
I said I wasn’t aware that I had. I smiled like the killer. I felt a twitch in my neck kick in. Detective Jacobs assured me I had. ‘I’ve been on leave the past few weeks,’ I said finally. ‘Johnna was in my class, but since I’m not teaching it now, I guess I was thinking back. She was committed.’
Jacobs smiled at me sceptically the way people do when they’re standing in the front of a lying used car salesman. ‘You think she still is? Committed, I mean?’
‘Hard to say,’ I offered. ‘People change, don’t they?’
I heard myself talking without being able to stop. I was desperate for them to leave, and they just sat there listening while I told them Johnna could have had a secret life for all I knew. Call girl, drug addict, any damn thing!
Molly walked up. ‘I think you’ve asked all the questions you need to.’
Jacobs, who apparently thought he was about to get a confession, was not really happy about Molly stepping into it, but he hunched his shoulders and grinned.
‘Now I’ll kindly ask you to get off our property,’
Molly told him, ‘and next time call us before you come driving out here.’
Detective Dalton leaned down so Molly could see his guileless eyes. ‘We’re not sure we need to see you again, either of you, Ms Albo, but we’ll make sure to call ahead if we do. Thanks again for the coffee.’
Molly stood close to me as we watched them swing around the circle and drive down the hill.
Molly whispered to me as if they might actually hear her. ‘They think you killed that girl, David.’
I couldn’t answer her. Truth is I could barely breathe.
‘Did you see Johnna Masterson the other night?’
Molly asked when we were inside the house again.
‘I told you what happened.’
‘Yes, but we both know you have issues with the truth.’
I smiled as if Molly had missed the whole point, which I guess she had. ‘Can’t you see what’s happening?’
‘I can see you looked like hell when that Detective Jacobs started pushing you around.’
‘I didn’t care for his attitude.’
‘Do you want me to stay?’
‘Stay?’
‘Cancel my flight. Until this gets resolved, I mean.’
‘You do whatever you want, Molly. I’m not in trouble with these people.’
‘David, those two aren’t finished with you. If I leave now they’re going to think it’s because I know something.’
‘There’s nothing to know, nothing connecting me to that woman.’
‘You went to see her.’
I shrugged indifferently. ‘Other than that.’
‘She charged you with sexual harassment.’
‘She was misinformed about statements I had made.
It wasn’t her fault.’
‘You think the cops will buy that?’
I thought about another lie, but stopped myself. ‘No.
Not after what happened at the funeral home.’
Molly stared me without speaking.
‘It would mean a lot if you stayed,’ I said finally.
‘I’ll make some calls.’
Lucy came home from school while I was in the barn. We talked for a while, and then she went into the house. She and Molly were upstairs in Lucy’s bedroom when I found them.
‘We’re going out to dinner,’ Molly said.
‘Great,’ I said.
‘Just the two of us.’
I went upstairs to my third floor monk’s cell to change clothes and watched from my window until they appeared. They took Lucy’s Toyota. Later, I rummaged around in the pantry for something to eat.
There was plenty of food. The trouble was I hadn’t gotten a supply of beer, and I wanted something to drink. Food was optional, drink the staff of life.
The truck drove itself to my old haunts. I had the meatloaf special with a couple of beers, followed by three shots of whiskey at the next stop. Three bars, three more drinks. Everyone asked where I had been.
I had a different answer at each bar. I said I’d had a consulting gig in Poland. That was at the first bar. At the second I said I’d been born again for a while, off booze entirely. At the next I said I had been in the Peace Corps in South America. At another, I said I had gone to Texas for a couple of years to work on a ranch busting broncos. The only story they called me on was the born again nonsense. They could believe the religion, nothing wrong with that, and I certainly needed it, but they knew I wasn’t about to give up drinking!
A co-ed was curious about what had happened to me at school. She had fabulous breasts, almost in Johnna Masterson’s league, and a bright-eyed innocence I found disconcerting so late into a good binge.
I told her I just needed some time off. She answered,
‘I heard you were fired.’
‘I’m taking some time off until they fire me,’ I said.
Having got what she wanted, and just a little accidental rub against my arm while she operated, she drifted off to join a younger drunk. I had persuaded myself she was interested in nailing a prof before the end of the semester and almost out of time. Of course, ex-profs don’t really count. I left feeling old and foolish, like my friend and mentor Walt Beery. In my truck I considered the temptation: those wide innocent eyes, those great, round breasts. I swore at my folly. I had been playing her along with the cool indifference of a mature man, imagining it was just for fun, knowing I could resist if she wanted something more than a little flirtation. But if it hadn’t been just the gossip she had wanted, I knew we would have ended up in the cab of my truck. Beth Ruby all over again.
I was faithful because I hadn’t been tempted. All I wanted at that moment was a good excuse. In fact I wanted more than an excuse. I wanted to kick up a little dust. Fortunately, I knew where to find plenty of dust.
