In the Belly of Jonah (30 page)

Zack winced. Then his face mustered what looked like resolve. His voice was strong and sure. “Jill Brannigan was beautiful, smart, witty, kind, thoughtful.”

All adjectives Streeter had heard before. Not much, coming from an artist, Streeter thought.

Zack’s eyes dropped to his hands, tossing the baseball back and forth, back and forth to himself. Then he stilled the ball in one hand and stared at the stitching and picked at the red threads with a long, lean finger. His voice was quiet. “Her mouth was soft and inviting like a goose down comforter on a rainy day. Her smile reached the corners of your mind like a sunset stretching above the Rockies. Her eyes pierced the very soul you thought no one in the world could ever see.”

Now we’re getting somewhere, Streeter thought. The artist has emerged.

Zack picked at the red stitching, unable to find purchase. “Jill Brannigan moved like a dancer on the court, unlike those other Neanderthal basketball jocks. She was good. Strong and smooth, she played a game with finesse. Just like with everything she did in life. Thoughtful, tender.”

“But not in her work,” Streeter interjected.

Zack stopped picking at the ball and stared at Streeter. “What are you talking about?”

“Dr. Jay tells me that Jill Brannigan wasn’t all that good at sculpting,”Streeter pressed. He could see the muscles in Zack’s neck strain.

“She was brilliant. Quite talented,”Zack defended. “She was only halfway through her second semester and she’d started to show great promise with working the clay to imitate live models.”

“Dr. Jay says otherwise. That Jill thought her way through class rather than felt her way through,” Streeter continued. He could see Zack’s ears turning red, the broodiness set into a thin line on his lips.

“Dr. Jay is—”

Streeter tilted his head, interested in why Zack caught himself. “Is what?”

“Dr. Jay is . . . a perfectionist,” Zack chickened out. Jerking his head from one side to the other he cracked his neck before he continued. “Always seeking that perfect sculptor, the next Rodin.”

“Tough grader, huh?” Streeter asked. “And you had to smooth it over with the students like Jill as his teaching assistant? Make sure they didn’t lose interest in sculpting? Get disenchanted with it all?”

Zack’s eyes slid in Streeter’s direction, giving him just enough time to note the yellowing of his whites. Zack resumed casting the baseball back and forth in his hands.

He started in a mumble. “More like I was there to make sure no one ratted him out, didn’t lose interest in the great Dr. Jay Bravo, get disenchanted with all his bullshit.”

“Not a fan of Dr. Jay’s?”

Zack hesitated before answering. “He gets my bills paid, you know?”

“You mean the school,” Streeter said.

Zack eyed him again. “Huh?”

“The school gets your bills paid. You’re a TA. Doesn’t CSU pay your bills?”

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I meant,” Zack nodded, the ball moving faster and faster between his hands.

Streeter knew Zack was lying.

“You know, you’re going to worry the leather right off that ball, Zack.”

Zack tossed the baseball onto his desk and it landed in a heap of clothes. He lay back on his bed and draped one arm over his forehead. It had been so long since Zack had spoken, Streeter thought he’d fallen asleep.

“The professor decides whether the TA works or not. The school pays, but the professor has us by our short hairs,” Zack finally said.

“And Dr. Jay has you by yours,” Streeter concluded.

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t have a choice but to love the one you’re with.” Zack dropped his arm and scrunched his face up at Streeter, giving him a “what the hell?” look. Streeter grinned. “You know, the song? If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

“Oh, I get it. If I can’t choose the professor, I better learn to like being the TA for a professor who wants me. Right.”

Streeter thought Zack would be faster on the uptake, but he wasn’t. Streeter added, “Nice ass; too bad it’s on his shoulders.”

That got Zack’s attention. He sat up on the bed. “Where did you hear that?”

“Micah,” Streeter said. “When did Jill say that to Dr. Jay? Do you remember?”

“Last Friday. A week ago this past Friday. Nine days ago,” Zack answered. “We were all at Nate’s doing shots of tequila and schnapps. And Dr. Jay deserved it.”

“That’s what Micah said. How long have you been in love with Jill?”

Zack stared at Streeter. His eyes were wide and for the first time unprotected by the hooded, sideways glance. “What the . . . Who—”

“No one. I figured that out all on my own.”

Streeter stared at Zack in silence.

“Since the first time I saw her—January of this year—she took my breath away,” Zack answered openly. Then, just as quickly, his expression collapsed into distrusting sullenness. “But I wasn’t good enough for her.”

“According to her?”

Zack shook his head, offering a corked smile. “She wasn’t like that. I wasn’t good enough for her from my view. She was so much better than me in so many ways. I made some bad choices. She never did.”

“Did you ever fight with her?”

“Fight? No, why?”

“Did you argue about her not wanting to date you?”

Zack lay back on the bed. “I never asked. Like I said, I wasn’t good enough for her. She wasn’t too good for me. There’s a big difference.”

“You were the last person to see her alive, Zack. Did you fight with her Monday night?” Streeter needled.

Zack shot up again, sitting erect, his hands on the edge of the bed as if he were preparing to propel himself forward at Streeter. “What are you talking about?”

“Monday night, at the library. As far as anyone knows, you were the last one to see Jill alive, Zack.”

“I didn’t kill her,” he moaned.

“The last one to see Jill before she was found butchered to death two days later.”

“I didn’t kill Jill. And I never told you I was at the library. Never.”

“No, you didn’t,” Streeter admitted.

“Then who said that I was?” Zack’s jaw was jutting back and forth, his teeth grinding.

“Why does it matter?”

Zack studied Streeter askance. He must have agreed with what he saw in his demeanor, because he eventually answered, “Because how would anyone know I was following her?
I
didn’t even know I was going to follow her. Only the killer would have known I was following her that night.”

“To the library?”

“Yeah,” Zack said. “I followed her to the library.”

“Were you stalking her, Zack?”

“I wasn’t stalking her,”he scowled. “I was just concerned. I saw her walking across the green by herself. It was late, dark. So, I decided to follow her.”

“Because you were concerned,” Streeter repeated.

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you just make yourself known? You were a friend, part of the gang.”

Zack sat up, lowering his head into his hands. He mumbled, “Because it would be weird.”

“Weird?”

“She’d think I was weird, showing up in the middle of the night to walk her to the library. She’d think I was a cretin or something, thinking she needed protecting.”

“You were seen at the library Monday night, watching her from behind a column. Why were you in the library, Zack?”

“I told you,” he spat, his eyes fixed on Streeter. “I never went
in
the library. I followed her
to
the library, waited until she made it inside, and then went back to my dorm. That’s it. End of story.”

“Why should I believe you? That you aren’t Jill’s killer?”

“Because I loved her,” Zack barked. He cradled his head in his hands. “I wouldn’t kill her. Wouldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t even ask her out. I wasn’t in the library Monday night, but I did follow her to the library. Don’t you see? The murderer saw me follow her to the library. I watched her go in. And never saw her again . . . ”

Zack was crying.

Streeter regarded him, studied his face, his body racked with sobs. Streeter lowered his voice. “What if I told you I had a witness who swears you were there at the library watching Jill from behind a pillar?”

Zack wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’d tell you that it was a lie.”

Streeter had no reason to believe him, but for some reason he did. His instincts were telling him to pursue more. “Zack, will you humor me and take off you shirt?”

Zack gave him a funny look.

Streeter lifted his hands in surrender. “Nothing kinky, believe me. I just want to be able to trust you, to know you’re telling me the truth.”

Zack said nothing.

“Please.”

Zack hiked his T-shirt over his head.

Streeter said, “Turn around.”

Zack did. No scratches anywhere to be seen, and Streeter was not about to ask Zack to take off his shorts. Lisa Henry had not scratched Zack Rhodes.

“Okay, you can put it back on,” Streeter said. “I believe you. So, you weren’t there Monday night
in
the library, but you were
at
the library.”

Zack squinted as if disbelieving Streeter.

“I believe you, but you can change all that with how you answer my questions,” Streeter said. “First, what made you so edgy last night when we discussed the walking-stick business?”

Zack blew out a long, defeated breath. “It’s an off-book business. A cash business.”

“So you don’t report any income or pay taxes?”

Zack nodded.

“Who all was involved? Was Jill?” Streeter pressed.

“No, no,” Zack insisted. “That’s what I’m telling you. She warned us that what we were doing wasn’t right and what might happen as our business grew. She didn’t want any part of it. That’s when Dr. Jay started taunting her about being a goody-goody.”

“Dr. Jay Bravo was in the walking-stick business with you?”

Zack swung his feet to the floor, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Well, yeah. It was his idea. He’s the mentor who taught us all how to carve. He’s a master with his hands. The school didn’t approve his request to add the carving class to the curriculum, so we use the sculpting class to introduce students to carving.”

Streeter’s mind homed in on Dr. Jay Bravo as the lead suspect, noting how every path continued to lead straight back to him.

“Zack, this is important. You have to trust me and you have to be truthful with me,” Streeter started. “Do you deal drugs? Provide for your circle of friends?”

Zack glared at him. After several seconds, he lifted a hand in surrender.

“Okay. Did you ever sell to Jill, provide any drugs for Jill, see Jill take anything?”

“Never,” Zack answered quickly. “She wasn’t that kind of girl, I told you that.”

“Last question, Zack. And don’t lie to me like you did last night,”Streeter said, leaning forward in his chair toward Zack. “Do you know who Jonah is?”

Zack nodded.

Streeter punched the buttons on his cell phone as he ran across campus to the Fine Arts Building. “Phil, I need you to get a search warrant for Dr. Jay Bravo’s home, car, office, whatever you can get.”

“Hard to find a judge who will come in on a Sunday, Streeter.”

“Try.”

“What do you have?”

“De Milo, I think. He’s got fresh scratches on his left jawbone and neck. He had access to Jill Brannigan.”

“That’s it? Streeter, we’re going to need more than that,” Kelleher chided.

“Hear anything from DMV on the pickup truck with the topper?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, call them back and find out how many and what kind of cars Dr. Jay Bravo owns. Or Jonah Bravo,” Streeter added.

“Jonah?”

“That’s what one of the kids thinks,” Streeter said, pushing open the far left door to the Fine Arts Building, relieved that it was still unlocked. He bounded up the stairs two at a time and hurried down the hall to Dr. Jay Bravo’s office. He turned the handle. It didn’t give. He knocked.