Meadowlark (28 page)

I did see Keith McDonald in handcuffs, though there were
preliminaries. Bianca told the detectives she had called the family
lawyer. Lisa asked her to call again. Keith stayed silent. It was all
very proper.

The Wallaces and Angie filtered back into the living room,
drawn by the anticlimactic drama of the arrest, and eventually Lisa,
Dale, and the anonymous deputy went off with Keith. Somebody
rescued the hothouse flowers from the front hall. The phone
rang--one of Bianca's sons. She withdrew to her suite to talk in private. I
had no idea what she was thinking, and I didn't want to know.

Jay had stayed behind when the police left. "So what
happened?" he asked. "Obviously something did."

The question--Mike's question, too--triggered a babble of
explanation. Everybody talked including Mike. Everybody except me.
I just sat there on my perch and shook.

Jay came over and stood behind me. He rubbed the back of
my neck with a warm hand. It felt good but didn't stop the shaking.
After a few minutes, he walked around and sat where Keith had.
Then he pulled me down onto his lap and wrapped both arms
around me. That did help. I burrowed in his chest.

"My wife needs something hot to drink," he said. "Hot and
sweet."

Marianne broke off an indignant comment on Keith's
character. "I'll fix tea." I thought I might be forgiven, eventually.

The explanations went on. I burrowed and shook. I suppose
I looked foolish. Jay and I are the same height, so my knees and
elbow were sticking out at odd angles. I didn't care. I kept my eyes
shut tight and thought about all the awful things that could have
gone wrong.

But nothing had. Keith was in custody.

Marianne brought the sweet tea, which I dutifully drank, and
I finally stopped shaking. By that time, as they say, Jay was in
possession of the facts. When I had stopped jittering, he boosted me
up and stood beside me, arm around my shoulders.

"I'm going to take Lark home now." He fished in his pocket.
"Mike, here are the keys to the Toyota--that crummy car parked in
the front drive. Will you move it out of the way? I can get it later." He
tossed the keys and Mike fielded them.

"The reception," I mumbled.

"Home," Jay said firmly.

"I'm coming back."

He gave me a squeeze. "I can't stop you, if you insist, but
you're coming home now."

"There's no time!"

"Nonsense. It's only three."

I couldn't believe it. I checked my watch. He was right.

Jay looked around. "Coat? Purse?"

Angie went off to find my things. When she returned, she
helped me into my jacket and draped my handbag over my shoulder
by the long strap. "I have a message for you from Frank
Hrubek."

"Oh, Frank. God, I should have asked..."

"He'll be fine, Lark. He's a tough old bird."

I heaved a sigh. "That's a relief. I was so scared."

"All of us were. Anyway, Frank said to tell you thanks."

"That's the message?"

"No. The message is 'Plan B.' He said you'd know what he
meant."

I gave a shaky laugh. Our contingency planning was going to
pay off.

For reasons best known to himself, Jay didn't take the faster
Ridge Road home. Perhaps he wanted to talk. If so, he must have
found my dazed silence annoying. We were entering Kayport before I
came out of my preoccupation sufficiently to ask about Jason and
Bill.

Jay geared down at the first stoplight. "Bill's a little better.
The doctors think he'll be partially paralyzed, though."

I swallowed nausea. Bill was the classic innocent bystander.
The light changed, and Jay eased down Main Street past my
darkened bookstore. "Jason regained consciousness right after you
called me from Clatskanie, and he was able to give Dale a fairly
coherent statement."

"And?"

He grimaced. "He and Bill saw McDonald with Mary."

"In Seaside?"

"Yes. They also saw Hugo speak to McDonald outside the
candy shop. They weren't close enough to hear what was said, but
Jason says Groth was angry."

"Wow! Why didn't they say something sooner?"

"Jason claims he didn't think much about it until Mary
disappeared. McDonald was always fooling around with women
students. And Jason didn't like Groth."

I digested that. "But Bill and Jason told the police they hadn't
seen Hugo at all the day he was killed. Why did they lie? Was Jason
blackmailing Keith?"

We rolled past the hospital and out onto Highway 101.
"Jason insists he just talked to McDonald. The kid's smart. He isn't
admitting anything, and maybe he didn't ask for money, but I suspect
McDonald interpreted what Jason said as blackmail."

"Was that enough to charge Keith?"

"Enough to suggest he tampered with the pickup, anyway.
We found a witness at the college. She saw McDonald hanging
around Jason's rig Friday afternoon. She took the ballad class last
term, so she's sure of the identification."

"Student or staff?" Staff members often took classes.

"Student. Another groupie," Jay said wryly. "Still, she
thought McDonald's behavior was odd. There have been car
burglaries, most of the faculty are long gone by four on Friday, and it
was a student lot. If she hadn't recognized McDonald, she would have
called security."

We were both silent, I thinking about the difference that call
might have made.

"A damned shame she didn't call it in." Jay shook his head
sadly. "Dale got a preliminary report on the pickup. The lab says the
line that carries fluid to the power steering was cut."

"But Jason drove all the way home and a long distance on
that back road before the wreck."

He shrugged against the shoulder harness. "It was cold out.
The line wasn't severed, just slit. The fluid dripped out slowly."

"But wouldn't he lose his steering?" I'm a willful car moron. I
don't want to know what goes on under the hood.

"No, darling, he wouldn't," Jay said with elaborate masculine
patience. "Just the
power
steering. It was probably sluggish
well before they reached the worst of the curves, but Jason might
have made it off the mountain if he hadn't been speeding. And if the
road surface had been dry."

"Then the wreck wasn't inevitable."

"No."

"Keith was just hoping?"

"I don't pretend to understand McDonald's mental
processes."

I had spent some effort that afternoon trying to understand
Keith's mental processes. "It sounds half-assed to me."

Jay passed a dawdling senior in a long Lincoln. The needle
dropped back to fifty-five. "Keith
is
half-assed."

"Of course, it would have worked if you hadn't insisted on
searching for the pickup."

"True."

"Keith is capable of forethought. He planned a quiet escape
from the farm for this evening. He had it all set up. Then he saw
Hrubek and heard Dale was coming, and he took Hrubek
hostage."

Jay made a clucking sound. "English majors--creatures of
impulse."

"Cut it out." I brooded. "I told him I thought they'd just
charge him with manslaughter if he surrendered peacefully. He
believed me, I think. Did I..." I started to ask whether I had lied to
Keith and discovered I didn't care. I groped for words. "I didn't
jeopardize anything, did I?"

Jay glanced over at me. "Only your life, my sweet. I wish
you'd stop doing that."

"He was going to slit Frank Hrubek's throat!"

He said gently, "You did what had to be done, Lark. Don't
worry about it. Let the lawyers figure out what the charges should
be."

"Mary..."

"Mary can probably give Dale some idea of McDonald's
frame of mind the day Groth was killed."

"And Hugo's, too. Mary wouldn't talk to me at all." I twisted
sideways, the better to see his face. "What do you think
happened?"

Jay slowed as the camper in front of him signaled a left turn.
"I didn't know Groth, so your guess is as good as mine. Better,
probably." The camper turned off, and the Honda picked up speed.
We were almost at the village of Shoalwater. Jay said, with diffidence,
"I got the impression Groth had strong principles."

"He wasn't a fanatic!" Even as I protested, I wondered.
Fanatic was Angie's word for Hugo. Fanatical and rigid.

"How do you think Groth would have reacted, if he thought
McDonald was hitting on one of the female students?"

I closed my eyes and tried to visualize Hugo's face. It was
already fading, a sad ghost. "He wouldn't have liked it, but I think he
would have talked to Keith before he reported anything to
Bianca."

"Or to the Dean."

That was a possibility I hadn't considered. "But Bianca was
Hugo's employer, and they had a lot of history."

Jay stopped at the only stop sign in Shoalwater. There was
no traffic at all, but I spotted a patrol car at the Grub 'n Stuff Drive-in.
"Does she care about Lover Boy's infidelities?"

I thought about it. "I don't know. Today she seemed
indifferent, but I've heard her say some pretty bitter things about
Keith."

Jay chuckled. "You ought to hear the Dean on that
subject."

"All the same--"

"She hasn't divorced the sucker yet, and God knows she's
had grounds."

"True."

"I think Groth threatened to report McDonald to the college.
He must have known McDonald was already on shaky ground
because of the earlier harassment charges." He headed out of town
on the country road that leads to our house. "Since Groth was
technically also a faculty member, in the sense that he was
supervising our students, the Dean would have had to take his
evidence seriously."

"He'd listen to Hugo, but not to someone like Carol--is that
what you're saying?"

"Not exactly." He topped the ridge and began to wind down
the steep hill that leads to the Shoalwater Approach and home. "A lot
of women on campus believe a male administrator won't take their
word against a male faculty member. That's not quite what happens.
At least with the Dean."

"Then what does happen?"

"He doesn't want to believe anything negative. Typically he
postpones action until something forces him to take steps. Then he
overreacts. He forced McDonald to resign as department head, for
example, instead of instituting a process of counseling and
observation. Seemed to think he'd solved the problem."

"Clearly not."

Jay sighed. "My point exactly. So McDonald stepped down,
bellyaching."

"I suppose he thought he was the aggrieved party."

"Yeah. Sexual harassment is a touchy subject."

I glanced at him, wondering whether he was touchy about it,
too.

His mouth twitched in a grin. "And he went right on acting
like a bird in mating season."

I flashed on a TV special I'd seen on avian courtship and had
to suppress a smile, too. Good old Keith, flicking his tail feathers and
warbling sweet songs. My amusement faded. "He's an idiot."

"He's not real sharp."

"What I don't understand is why it would matter so much to
him to keep the teaching job. Bianca has more money than the GNP
of Paraguay. Keith doesn't have to work."

Jay swerved around a pothole. "Come on, Lark, it's his
identity. He revels in it. Bianca is an overwhelming personality. She
was probably overwhelming as a twenty-year-old hippy. Now she
has big money, too. She'd erase the guy if he was dependent on
her."

I rubbed my forehead. "I don't think she means to
overwhelm people." Why was I defending Bianca? I changed the
subject. "Why did Hugo go out to the greenhouses to talk to
Keith?"

"Instead of to the farmhouse? So Bianca wouldn't
overhear."

"You just said she wouldn't care. Be consistent."

He slowed the car for a sharp curve. "It's all speculation. You
knew Groth. How would you explain it?"

"I don't think Hugo would have wanted to hurt Bianca
unnecessarily. Maybe he thought he could reason with Keith. So
Hugo met Keith at the greenhouses, and they fought." And Hugo hit
his head and died.

Jay pulled into the driveway and set the brake. "Groth was
smaller and lighter than McDonald. I think McDonald attacked.
There's more than one head wound. He may even have meant to kill
Groth, but it's hard to prove intent."

I thought about Keith's behavior that afternoon. "More likely
he just panicked. But he did mutilate the body--"

"And leave it where he thought it would incriminate the
Vietnamese crew. That stinks."

"Will it make a difference?"

"To the charges? Maybe. A good defense lawyer might get
around it. It will matter when it comes to sentencing."

We got out and went into the house through the back door.
My kitchen looked bright and welcoming. I didn't want to leave it. I
made a pot of coffee.

Jay watched me. "Why don't you go for a run?"

I pressed the button that turns the coffee maker on. The
device cleared its throat. "I don't have time."

"You have two hours, sweetheart. Go for a run and take a
long hot shower afterwards. I'll fix us something to eat."

I gave him a hug. "You're terrific."

He kissed me. "You, too. Go on, Lark. Scoot."

What he didn't tell me was that Dale would be waiting in my
nice bright kitchen when I came down from my shower--waiting and
wanting another statement.

I dashed into the kitchen and slid to a halt.

"Hi, Lark." Dale raised his coffee mug in salute. He looked
exhausted but content.

"Jeez, can't it wait until tomorrow?" I had known he would
want a statement sooner or later.

"Is tomorrow better?"

It wasn't. Dale didn't wait for a reply. "The prosecutor has to
know what happened this afternoon. May affect the amended
charges."

"Okay." I glanced at Jay. He was making toast and
sautéing something. All of a sudden I felt ravenously hungry.
"Omelets?"