No Good Deed (27 page)

‘What was he worried about?'

Madrigan raised both hands. ‘Everything. Nothing. I tried just talking to Joelle a couple of times. She's always happy to talk to me, but she was shy about personal things. I didn't want to push.'

‘Any teachers she was close to?' Sonora asked.

Madrigan's face settled back into the apology. ‘Not that I could tell. Like I said, she was slipping through.'

‘What about her grades? They go up or down the last couple of weeks?'

Madrigan leaned forward, picked up a computer transcript off the top of a pile, offered it across the desk. ‘We haven't had a grading period yet this year, but these are from last semester.'

Sonora took it, Sam looking over her shoulder. One D in algebra one, a C in social studies; D in chorus, F in home economics, C in biology, A in freshman English. No comments from anyone other than the chorus teacher, who found Joelle ‘a pleasure to have in class, but needs focus'.

‘What happened with the English grade?' Sonora asked.

Madrigan took the transcript, studied it, shrugged. ‘I have no idea.'

‘Did Joelle have a locker?' Sam asked.

The hallway was resonant with aromas coming from the cafeteria. The heating system was running and Sonora could smell floor wax, beneath the odor of fresh-baked rolls and pizza.

Madrigan led them into a connecting hallway lined with metal lockers, painted orange. ‘Three forty-seven,' he said, bending down.

Joelle Chauncey had a bottom locker.

It was hard to open, mainly because it was crammed with books and ragged-edged paper, torn out of spiral notebooks.

A bell rang, followed by a moment of hushed expectation, then classroom doors swung open and children streamed out.

So many of them, all in a hurry, wearing loose, low jeans, platform shoes, heavy backpacks on their backs.

‘She's got a couple of buddies, doesn't she, who go by the nicknames of Pistol and Bits?' Sonora reviewed the journal entries in her mind. Pistol and Bits.

Madrigan looked blank. Sonora permitted herself a small surge of superiority, that she could come to this man's school and reel off the nicknames of students, nicknames the assistant principal did not know. All in the legwork. Relentless. Focused.

‘The kids I'm thinking of are Maggie Billifano, and Josh Elam.'

Pistol and Bits, Sonora thought.

‘Let's head back to the office, and I'll double-check to make sure, but they're sophomores, so, unless they're in band, they'll have A lunch. They should be in the cafeteria, or hanging around the gym. Ms Flutie?' He turned, held up a finger. Bent close to Sonora. ‘This is Joelle's English teacher, from last year.'

She was a thin woman, with yellow-blond hair, and would look brittle in another ten to twelve years, but the gauntness was youthful now, and all the rage. Her skirt was long and slender, and the white blouse was translucent with a large square yoke of lace at the top, like a bib.

Sonora winced. It wasn't that she did not like lace, she simply preferred it where it belonged, on underwear and tablecloths.

Ms Flutie wheeled toward them, one eyebrow raised. She gave Sonora and Sam a brisk, thorough look. Glanced at her watch. Looked to the assistant principal for direction.

‘Yes, Mr Madrigan?'

He folded his arms and leaned against the wall next to the packed lockers. Smiled.

It would take a hell of a woman to resist that smile, Sonora thought.

Ms Flutie wasn't up to it. Her voice softened. ‘How can I help you?'

‘It's about Joelle Chauncey.'

Flutie's face went blank, but Madrigan's funereal tone of voice made an impression, and the woman took half a step forward.

‘Of course. The student who … Joelle was in my second-hour English class, last year.' Flutie took a breath, as if she'd passed a test. She seemed on the verge of walking away.

Busy, busy, Sonora thought. ‘She made an A in your class, even though she wasn't doing so well in her other ones.'

Ms Flutie nodded. ‘It was dropping there toward the end of the year. I was surprised she was able to maintain it.'

Sonora did not like the tone of voice. She had dealt with the Ms Fluties of the world many times, often over her own children. Joelle Chauncey was expected to get a C, and Ms Flutie had done everything she could to see to it.

But Joelle hadn't. She wondered why.

‘What was your impression of Joelle? Troubled, or—'

‘Joelle was never very
attentive
.' Flutie tucked the yellow-blond hair behind her ears. ‘She was always off in never-never land, she'd miss turning in homework, she was rather apathetic.'

‘Her chorus teacher said she was a pleasure to have in class,' Sonora said.

Flutie's smile was tight. ‘She wasn't unpleasant, she just wasn't there, in mind, anyway. But the child could write, give the Devil his due. Position papers, research papers, essays. The biggest grade of the semester was over a topic paper, on current events. The students take a subject from the headlines, gather research material from periodicals – newspapers, magazines,' she explained to Sam and Sonora, as if Cincinnati's finest might not know what a periodical was. Teacher-speak. ‘And I have to say that in this case Joelle fired right up. I couldn't
not
give her that A.' Her tone of voice implied that she'd tried. ‘She did a truly outstanding job, but then by the end of the semester her work dropped off again. I was disappointed.'

No, Sonora thought, you were not.

‘For a while there, she was quite the little firebrand.'

‘What was her topic?' Sonora asked.

‘I suppose I could look it up.' Ms Flutie lifted her chin, tapped it with a long, narrow finger. Her nails were rough-edged, chewed to the quick. ‘Missing children, that's what it was. Missing children and adopted children searching out a birth parent. Too broad, in my opinion. I really wanted her to go in one direction or the other – in fact, I specifically instructed her to do so, and I had to take points off when she didn't. But all in all? A fine job. I saw some genuine writing talent, raw and unformed, but there. There was a contest, state-wide, and I strongly considered sending hers in. If she had stayed within my guidelines – but Joelle, most people don't realize, was a child who did exactly what she wanted at all times. She's capable of a lot more than she's giving.'

‘Not any more,' Sonora said.

Chapter Forty-Six

Joelle Chauncey's two best friends were on their way out of the cafeteria when Madrigan caught them in the hallway. He introduced them to Sam and Sonora, let them know, in an understated way, that their help would be appreciated but that they were under no obligation to talk to anyone. He offered all of them the use of his office, and Sonora could tell that Sam was on the verge of turning him down when the school secretary appeared, summoning Madrigan to a plumbing crisis in a boys' bathroom.

They stood alongside the brick wall in back of the cafeteria. Sonora checked her watch. Ten forty-five a.m., and A lunch was already over. The bewildering illogic of school schedules was one thing that had not changed since Sonora was a kid.

Josh Elam was tall and it seemed to embarrass him. He slumped, head low, and Sonora could see that the hunched-over posture was a habit. His hair had been shaved up the sides and left thick at the top, and his acne, while still a presence, was clearly under control. Another three years and he would win the fight. He stood close to Maggie, whose hair was a deep and artificial red with a dashing streak of lavender in the bangs.

‘I guess the two of you heard what happened to Joelle.' Sam's voice was low-key and sympathetic.

They nodded, and looked embarrassed, as if they were not sure how to act.

‘We're sorry for your loss,' Sam told them.

They nodded again, but there was a general feeling of relaxation, like they'd been holding their breath and were letting it out. Sam's quiet, heartfelt validation of their dignity and grief struck the right note. Sonora decided to let Sam work this one. He was clearly on the right track. With kids this age, they could learn a lot, or they could learn a little. It was all in how it was played.

‘You guys got anything on the guy who did it?' This from Maggie, but Josh's eyes were on them, flat and angry.

‘Yeah, we've got some ideas, but we've got more investigating to do.'

If he'd been talking to adults, Sonora felt sure Sam would have said ‘information-gathering'. Most teenagers had had all the ‘information-gathering' they could stomach by their sophomore year.

‘Who you lookin' at? Can't say?' This from Josh, almost timidly.

Sam shook his head, agreeing. ‘No, sorry, I can't. I could get into all kinds of trouble if I talked about it before I was sure of my footing. But I'm after it. Joelle seemed like a good kid.'

They both nodded.

Sonora tried to stop grinding her teeth. Patience. Getting a teenager to talk was as tricky as getting a butterfly to land on your fingers.

Sam leaned back against the brick wall. ‘Either of you know her dad very well?'

‘A little,' Maggie said.

Sam folded his arms. ‘He can't seem to come up with any thoughts on who did this to Joelle.'

Maggie looked at Josh. Rolled her eyes. ‘He wouldn't.'

‘Why do you say that?' Sonora asked.

Josh shook his head. ‘The guy's lame. I know that sounds harsh, with his loss and all. But it's the truth.'

‘Was he close to Joelle?' Sam asked.

More shrugs. Nobody was admitting anything.

‘Joelle have a boyfriend?'

‘Not that we know of.' Maggie went wide-eyed and innocent. Josh shook his head in total support.

It was the answer Sonora had expected, and she was surprised, because they were clearly lying. She glanced at Sam, wondering if he knew. His own daughter was younger. He had not yet run smack into that studied, wide-eyed innocence.

Sonora's formula was that the amount of charm exerted was directly proportional to the likelihood of a lie. ‘That's not what I hear.'

Maggie and Josh gave her blank looks and big eyes. Even a smile from Josh, which pretty much clenched it. Looks were exchanged. They began gathering books, ready for flight.

Sonora waved a hand. ‘Look, if you want to walk away, go ahead, you don't have to talk to me. But I've been a homicide cop a long time, and even though I didn't know Joelle, I saw what her killer did to her, and it was bad. Whatever details you heard – this was worse. The only good thing is that she wasn't sexually assaulted.'

They were hooked now, Maggie in sudden tears. ‘I thought they raped her.'

‘No,' Sonora said. ‘She was unconscious right away, and she didn't suffer.'

The children moved closer together.

‘I'm going to catch this guy, with or without your help. But if you know anything, that would be great. It could make my job easier, help me catch him faster. You don't have to tell me
everything.
You're afraid we'll start looking at the boyfriend, and yeah, I know there was one. Well, you're not dumb, you know that's one place we'll go, if only because he can help. He's probably your friend, and you don't want to rat him out.'

This brought a small, startled laugh.

‘What?' Sonora said.

Maggie looked apologetic. ‘It's just nobody says “rat them out” any more.'

As if it mattered, Sonora thought. ‘I do, but hey, I'm old. And you know what I mean, don't you? I don't happen to think a kid did this – as a matter of fact I'm sure not. You tell this guy – tell him to come talk to me if he wants to. It'll make him feel better, I guarantee it. Maybe he knows something, maybe he wants to help. But meanwhile, tell me what you do know, what you don't mind saying.'

They stared at her. Hard as hell to know what was in their minds.

‘You mean, like, did she have enemies? She was only fifteen.' Josh laughed a little, then checked himself. Sonora reminded herself that a lot of this was nervousness.

She folded her arms. ‘Which one of you is Pistol, and which one of you is Bits?'

The look of shock was replaced by laughter – part nerves, part genuine amusement. Sam and Sonora waited them out.

‘You going to let us in on it?' Sam asked.

Another exchange of looks. Maggie glanced into the cafeteria window. ‘Not here.'

Josh and Maggie led them to an oak tree between a green dumpster, a dirt running track and an asphalt parking lot in back of the school. They settled in the grass, cross-legged, and Sam and Sonora sat down with them.

The kids looked comfortable. They wore loose jeans four sizes too big and huge T-shirts. They did not seem concerned about grass stains.

Homicide was hard on clothes.

The girl, Maggie, was talking.

They had been a threesome, Josh, Maggie and Joelle. A twosome now. ‘See, the big thing you need to know about Joelle was how smart she was.'

‘Genius, man.' Josh was nodding. Smiling a little.

‘But she hated school, and she hated the work, you know, like homework. And it wasn't like at my house where they ground you if you don't bring home the grades. I mean, her dad got upset and all, but he didn't really do anything—'

‘Except pile on the guilt,' Josh said.

Maggie nodded. ‘And she was sneaky as hell. That girl got away with stuff.'

‘My hero.' Josh again.

‘And she'd like, you know, mess with people.' Maggie leaned toward Sam. ‘She didn't get along with her dad. He made her do all the work around the house, and go to bed early, and he got after her if she talked on the phone late at night, like, he was totally unreasonable.'

Sonora and Sam automatically looked at Josh, whose turn it was to speak, according to the rhythm. He grinned at them. Stayed silent.

‘Plus he was snoopy,' Maggie said.