Wakefield College 01 - Where It May Lead by Janice Kay Johnson

so.” Troy called it the “snob reflex,” that
automatic Wakefield assumption that townies weren’t as smart as the elite
members of the college community. Growing up, Troy had gotten many automatic
dismissals when a Wakefield student realized he was a local kid.
    “When I was hired, I read that murder book cover to cover,
too,” the police chief said, surprising Troy. “Leaving a crime that ugly
unsolved sticks in my craw. I don’t know if it’s possible to get anywhere after
this many years—it’s not as if we have a DNA sample we can pull out like a
rabbit from a hat—but I can’t see what it hurts to try.” He nodded once,
decisively. “Let’s do it. Instead of going for a warrant, I’ll try for voluntary
cooperation from the college. They can’t like having this clouding their
reputation any better than we do.” A grim smile stretched his mouth. “I’d like
to exorcise Mitchell King’s ghost. I’m betting the president, Lars Berglund,
feels the same. I’ll make some calls,” he concluded.
    Taking that as his dismissal, Troy thanked the chief and left
the office along with Lieutenant Davidson.
    Heading back to his desk, Troy considered calling Madison, but
decided to wait. It would be interesting to hear about the uproar on her end
after Helmer’s calls. Itching to get started, he wondered how long it would take
before he had the final go-ahead.

CHAPTER SIX
    “A RE YOU READY ? ” Troy asked
quietly.
    Madison nodded even though she was consumed with guilt at the
trap she was laying for her own father—and that’s what this was, however much
she wanted to believe she was doing the right thing. She closed her eyes
briefly. This had been the deal. Troy had come up with a list of questions that
now lay in front of her. His handwriting was bold and easy to read in case she
panicked midway. They’d talked through every eventuality, too, including how far
she should go with the claim that they had a witness who placed Guy at the gym
within the same time frame as the murder.
    Troy looked pointedly at the phone in her hand. Sucking in a
deep breath, she found her father’s number and, after only the briefest of
pauses, pushed the call button.
    He answered after the third ring. “Madison. Good to hear from
you.”
    That was warm and fuzzy, for him. He’d never called her by any
pet names. She had been about ten years old when she’d shyly told him that Mom
had started calling her Maddie. Dad had snapped, “What’s she trying to do to
you? We named you Madison. That’s a name with dignity and strength. Don’t let
her demean you, Madison.”
    Now, she understood a little of what he’d meant. Madison was stronger, Maddie softer, maybe more feminine. But
at the time a pet name had translated into her mind as affection, and she had
been desperate to feel loved by either of her parents. Nonetheless, the next
time she saw her mother, she’d firmly told her that she preferred to be called
by her full name.
    “Dad,” she said. “Listen, I’m going to put you on speakerphone.
I’ve been teaching myself to quilt, and I thought I could do it while we’re
talking.”
    “Quilt? Good God, Madison.”
    There’s the Dad I know and love, she thought wryly. “I’m enjoying it,” she said simply, touching the speaker
button on her phone and setting it down on the coffee table, halfway between her
and Troy. “How was your trip to Japan?”
    He told her, surprising her by being more expansive than usual.
Very aware of Troy sitting across from her, his elbows braced on his knees and
his eyes keen, she nonetheless asked questions in appropriate spots and even
laughed a few times at her father’s stories.
    “How did the great time capsule weekend go?” he asked,
surprising her again. He’d remembered. “Did you raise a lot of money?”
    “I did.” She smiled. “Even better than I expected. Did you know
Rob Dayton?”
    “Software,” he said promptly. “He was a year or two behind me,
I think.