Murder Takes a Break by Bill Crider Page A

said as he led the way to the den, a room with a big-screen TV, a sectional sofa and several chairs.   There was also a Christmas tree, a fir of some kind, not artificial, about seven feet high.   There were plenty of gifts under it, wrapped in red and green paper.  
    "Chad just seems to have lost interest in school," Mr. Peavy said.   "I don't know why."
    "That's why I'm here," I said, giving them a quick look at my clipboard and pad.   "My job is to try to get him to come back.   We don't like to lose any students of course, but your son is a special case."
    "We've always felt that way, too," Mrs. Peavy said.   She was a cheerful-looking woman with hair so black that I was certain it was dyed.   "He could do so well if he'd just try."
    "Not to mention that he could help out the football team," I said, getting into the spirit of things.
    "That's the truth," Mr. Peavy said.   "He could have been really good if he'd just put his mind to it.   I think the disappearance of his roommate just took the fun out of things for him."
    The three of us chattered on that way for a few seconds, while Chad stood awkwardly to one side and said absolutely nothing.   It was obvious that meeting with me hadn't been his idea.
    "Why don't the two of you leave me and Chad alone for a while?" I suggested to the Peavys.   "Sometimes these interviews are a little awkward if the parents are in the room."
    Mr. Peavy said that he understood completely, and he and his wife disappeared.
    "We might as well sit down," I said to Chad when they were gone.
    Chad sat in a chair, folded his arms across his chest, and looked at me.   He still hadn't said anything.
    I looked at my clipboard, ran my finger down the legal pad, and said, "Let's see.   Your roommate was Randall Kirbo, is that right?"
    "Yeah," Chad said.
    "He's another student we'd like to have back.   I understand that there's some problem there, however."
    "Yeah."
    I pretended to refer to the legal pad again.   "He didn't come back to school after spring break.   Neither did you.   Any connection?"
    "Nah."
    "Your major was communications, right, Chad?"
    "Huh?"
    "Just a little joke."   I smiled to show him that I was only kidding around, then looked back at the legal pad.   "It says here that Randall was at some kind of party and that he was never seen again after that.   You were there too, isn't that right?"
    Chad leaned against the back of his chair as if trying to get as far away from me as possible.
    "What's this got to do with student retention?" he asked.
    It was nice to find out that he could string several words together at the same time.
    "Well, Chad, as you know, I'm interested in helping the college retain students.   If we can find out why they left in the first place, we might be able to persuade them to come back and continue their educations.   If something happened at that party to cause two of our students to decide to leave college forever, then we'd like to know about it.   You see?"
    "No."
    Talking to Chad was a little like talking to Nameless, though I was beginning to wonder if Nameless didn't have a slightly larger vocabulary.
    I tried again.   "Let me put it this way, Chad.   If we could find out what happened at that party, we might be able to get in touch with Randall and talk to him the way I'm talking to you."
    Chad just looked at me.   Subtlety wasn't going to get me anywhere with him.
    "I don't seem to be getting through to you, Chad," I said.   "So I'm going to level with you.   I don't care about you at all.   The coach told me that you were a lousy football player and that he didn't care whether you came back or not.   But he wants me to find out about Randall.   He says Randall could be All-Conference next year."
    "He's fulla shit, then," Chad said.
    I had to give Chad credit for one thing; he was making it easy for me to lie to him.
    "Maybe so," I said.   "Now, about