Saving Face (Mount Faith Series: Book 1) (14 page)

Chapter Seventeen

Jerry Foster

Ian Grant

Kelvin Hart

Sol Hunter.

Harry recited from his notes. They had driven to the library and were sitting at the very end of the Humanities section, near a window that overlooked the playing field.

Natasha scratched her head in frustration, "I know I am missing something. I can feel it."

"Well, this guy's name starts with K-E-L," Harry said.

"Not that," Natasha said, "though that was significant, but I think I've seen his name before."

Harry frowned and pulled out his notes, he started flipping through, occasionally making grunting noises.

"I know!" Natasha said slapping her head, "Kelvin Hart racked up two traffic tickets on Carlisle's car. I remember when we were doing the original investigations on Carlisle his name came up. I had wondered at the time whether he was a relative."

Harry nodded. "Yes, that's true. That's where we heard that name."

Then a light came into Natasha's eyes. "Harry," she said excitedly, "Kel is to Kelvin as Hart is to love. Kellove. That's our guy!"

"You are right," Harry said triumphantly. "He surely fits the profile, and he works here."

Natasha drummed her fingers on the table excitedly. "Oh, my me. Harry, do you think that all of these men that Carlisle was carrying as company to the golf games were a little more than just guy friends."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You could be right, but let’s not speculate. I am going to call Petra at the registrar office and ask her for information on Kelvin Hart."

He dialed Petra's number and listened for a while as she gave him the requested information.

He hung up the phone. "Kelvin Hart is a chemistry lecturer. He has class now…ending in fifteen minutes…on the second floor of the Science building. Then he has a break until the 5-9 pm evening session."

"Lets go watch him," Natasha said. "Trail him, see what he's up to…then approach him."

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said happily. "Sounds like a really good plan."

***

They watched Kelvin Hart as he left his class. They watched him as he got into his car—an old blue sedan with a dented door.

"He's handsome." Natasha said quietly as Kelvin opened the back door and threw in his books. He loosened his tie and stretched a little. He had a compact body and was average height, maybe about 5' 8. His face was long and lean, and his beard, and neat mustache were neatly trimmed.

"He doesn't bat for your team," Harry said jokingly.

Natasha shook her head. "It's a shame. A low-down, dirty shame. Not that I would want him but...shame...shame...shame."

Kelvin got into his car and backed out of his parking spot. He paused to fix his rearview mirror and then drove off. They drove behind him. Natasha glanced at the dashboard clock; it was 11:15 a.m. Harry's dashboard clock was always set five minutes faster so she subtracted the five mentally.

Kelvin turned into Mount Faith Drive and Harry turned with him.

"He's going on Taj's street," Natasha said frowning.

He passed Taj's house, and drove down to the end of the cul-de-sac, fifteen houses to the very end. He stopped at a house that had white picket fencing at the front and a nicely manicured lawn.

Harry stopped two houses from him. They watched as Kelvin got out of his car and then the door of the house opened. A young lady was standing there in a nurse's uniform, a scowl on her face.

"Kelvin," she said loudly, "you needed to have picked up Melissa before you went to your class."

A little girl, her hair in two pigtails, came out of the house skipping.

"Daddy look here." She held up a paper with what looked like a butterfly on it. Natasha grabbed up Harry's binoculars so that she could get a closer look.

"Did the girl say Daddy?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yep," Natasha said.

Kelvin took the hand of the little girl and said something to the lady quietly.

The lady's body language was hostile. She shoved what looked like an overnight bag at Kelvin and closed the door behind her. She stood and watched with her hands akimbo as Kelvin drove off.

Harry started up the car and drove after him. "Doesn't seem like everything is going well with that relationship." He observed dryly.

"Maybe he is not our Kellove," Natasha said hopefully as Harry turned several streets and followed Kelvin to the entrance of the Mount Faith Prep School.

"He has a little girl, and what seems like a family."

They watched as he got out and talked to a teacher and handed over the little girl. He stooped down to hug her and then straightened up. Harry had parked right beside his car and he and Natasha got out and leaned on their car.

Kelvin walked over to his car and glanced at them.

"Good morning," he said brightly. He had one of those cultured voices that was common to students of Mount Faith
.
He must have attended the university as a student
,
Natasha thought.

"Good morning," she and Harry said in unison.

"We want to ask you some questions," Harry said before Kelvin opened the car door.

Kelvin looked at them questioningly. "About what?"

"About potassium chloride," Natasha said quickly.

They watched as a look of panic crossed Kelvin's face.

"Why?" Kelvin asked.

Harry shrugged. "We are investigating a murder."

"You are police?" Sweat broke out on the upper lip of Kelvin's finely chiseled mouth.

"Yes," Natasha said, "and you didn't answer the question."

"What...what...do you want to...er...know about it?"

"What's the dosage that could induce a heart attack?" Harry asked warming up. Kelvin looked like a man trapped and they hadn't even started asking him the hard questions yet.

So, he really was the Kellove. Harry glanced at Natasha who had come around and was leaning on his side of the car. She casually crossed her arms and was looking at Kelvin with a knowing look in her eye.

"Potassium chloride by itself will not kill anyone," Kelvin said, "but a lethal dose could be about 7 to 9 grams to shut down the heart."

"You know your stuff," Natasha said.

Kelvin looked at her and nodded. "I need to. I teach Chemistry."

"So what are the odds," Harry asked, "of a man surviving who has a pre-existing condition, say high blood pressure, after being injected with a lethal dose of potassium chloride?"

"The odds would be slim." Kelvin said fiddling with his keys.

"Did you kill Edward Carlisle?" Natasha asked.

Kelvin hung his head and sighed. "What makes you think I even knew enough about Edward to want to kill him?"

"You wrote love letters to him," Harry ground out. "You two were lovers and he broke up with you…started bringing Sol Hunter to his golf games. So he found another lover. You got angry and snapped."

"Stop talking so loudly," Kelvin hissed. "Do we have to have this conversation in my daughter's pre-school parking lot."

"Well, we could go down to the station," Natasha said straightening up from the car.

"No, okay, no." Kelvin held up his hand. "Edward Carlisle and I had a thing that's true. I wouldn't kill him though."

"Did he dump you?" Natasha asked.

Kelvin sighed, looking around furtively. "There was no dumping going on. I...we... called it quits."

"But your last mail said you'd love him forever," Natasha said, "that sounded a lot like a passionate declaration."

Kelvin looked cornered. "I did love him. I was the only one who understood him."

"Explain the set-up to me," Harry said, "you are married right?"

"Recently divorced," Kelvin said, "Edward and I got involved after my divorce."

"Ah," Natasha nodded looking at him contemptuously, "but Edward was still married."

"He was going to get a divorce, so that the two of us could be together."

Natasha chortled. "Are you serious? That's what he told you, and you believe it! That's usually the line men feed to their girlfriends! Are you a man or what!"

Kelvin wiped his brow and said roughly, "why don't you ask Miranda why she wouldn't let him go? She's the one that killed him. She didn't want him to be happy with anyone else…most of all me. She found out about us and she went berserk. Threatened to go to the Board of Trustees about Edward and threatened to get me fired. I can't afford to be jobless now I have a child to provide for."

"How did you know she knew about the two of you?" Harry asked

"Because Edward told me. He was scared that she would carry out her threats. She is friends with D.M. Carter you know. She could easily tell him. Listen," Kelvin said pleadingly, "I am not really a homosexual. I love women. I do."

He looked at Natasha and Harry's incredulous faces.

"It's just that Edward was different and I sort of fell under his spell. He was charismatic and knew just the right buttons to push. I came out of a bitter divorce and he backed me up every step of the way. He loved me when nobody else did. I couldn't kill him. I would never have killed him."

Natasha grunted. "Where do you live?"

"5 Mount Faith Drive," Kelvin responded readily. "Can I go now?"

"That's pretty close to where D.M. Carter lives," Natasha said, "and he did say that you threatened him."

Kelvin hung his head sheepishly and then inhaled. "He tried to convince Edward to fire me."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because at one of their stupid golf games, he took an instant dislike to me…I may have hugged him a little too long after he made a shot."

"Did you try to kill him?" Natasha asked.

"Hell, no!" Kelvin said offended.

"Okay, you may go, but just remember, we are watching you," Natasha added. She and Harry watched as he got into the car and drove off.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry asked incredulously. "He did it. At the very least he injected D.M. Carter."

Natasha shook her head. "You said that about Miranda. Besides, how are we going to prove it? He teaches chemistry, if we get a warrant and search his house, we are going to have to prove that any excess potassium chloride found there was for the murder. Besides, it seems to me that Miranda Carlisle had a lot more hanging on this getting out than him."

Harry through up his hand in the air and began to pace. "The wife or the lover?"

Natasha chewed her lip. "Perhaps neither of them. Perhaps it was Bancroft."

Harry frowned. "It's possible."

"Perhaps he died from an overdose of medication administered by his own hand."

Harry shrugged. "That's a bit far-fetched."

Natasha jingled the keys in her pants pocket. Taj and hers were intermingled in a knot. She drew out Taj's key. She had to give it back to him today.

"I still say it's either Miranda Carlisle or Kelvin 'kellove' Hart. Both swear their innocence and both had a lot to be angry about. This case is the pits." Harry sucked his teeth in disgust.

Chapter Eighteen

Taj let himself into the house after a long week. A frazzled Natasha had handed him his keys between meetings this morning, giving him a hasty kiss. He threw his briefcase across the room and walked to his back patio, a sense of relief engulfing him as he celebrated, in his head, the ending of the week.

A stronger sounding Bancroft had called him and nasally declared that he would be back in office Monday.

Taj kicked off his shoes. He had mixed feelings about the job now and was of two minds about it. For him the cut and thrust of the presidency was not very attractive. He looked out over the back lawn. Apparently, the gardener had been by during the day—he could smell the scent of freshly cut grass.

The waning light was peeping through his lychee tree. He inhaled deeply and exhaled letting all the troubles of the day roll out off his mind.

He leaned on the railing and was about to inhale again when his doorbell rang. He sighed and dragged his feet to answer the door. Unless it was Natasha, he was not interested. He peeped through the keyhole. It was Anne Carter. She had a shy look on her face and had a basket in her hand.

He opened the door and leaned on the jamb. "Hello Anne."

"Hi," Anne smiled at him shyly, "I know you have been too busy this week to think about fixing anything so I brought you some stuff for the weekend."

Taj moved away from the doorway and allowed her in. She was in a tie-die dress and had her hair caught up in a matching scarf. He once again found himself marveling that she was his mother. She was such an alien creature to him.

Where was the instant familial connection that he discovered with Micah Bancroft. There was nothing there for Anne or Ryan, his biological mother and father. He understood that he would have to work on it if he wanted any relationship with them. Looking on Anne's anxious features, he made up his mind to meet her half way. After all, he didn't have a mother; hadn't had one for years. It was nice to have somebody nearby caring about him in a motherly way.

"Thank you," he said to her in the silence. "I had a pretty tough week."

"So," Anne said, emboldened by his softened features, "did you find the desk stressful?"

Taj followed her retreating back to the kitchen.

"It wasn't bad. I was just relieved that I did not have it to go back to on Monday. Then I realized that if I wanted the job that would be a bad attitude to have."

Anne laughed and handed him an orange. He took it from her with a smile. Thank you. That's quite a bit of food you have there. Anne shrugged her thin shoulders rising and falling abruptly.

"I have been looking forward to doing this for you since you moved in. I am happy that I can do it."

"How is D.M.?" Taj asked sinking his teeth in the sweet orange.

"Doing better. Your friend Natasha and her detective partner told him about Edward Carlisle's lifestyle and he spent most of the day in shock. He called me to complain that I hadn't told him." She shrugged, "I knew they were friends. I just never wanted to spread any rumors, you know, or create ill will."

Taj nodded. "I understand."

He ate his orange and watched as Anne proceeded to wipe down his already clean counter space.

"Why haven't you guys had any children together?" he asked after a while.

"Because I had five miscarriages and the doctors had to remove my womb from the last baby. I am unable to have anymore children."

"I am sorry to hear. You seem like you'd be a good mother."

Tears sprang to Anne's eyes. "I always wanted to be a mother."

She folded her arms tightly across her bosom and looked down at the floor. "Taj please forgive me for giving you away."

Her sadness and regret was palpable. "Anne, you are forgiven. I had a great childhood. My adopted Mom was a bit weird and quirky, but my Dad was the best father a guy could ask for, and my housekeeper/sub-mother Harriet was the best. I also had good friends. I grew up in a nice neighborhood. My high school girlfriend lived down the street…I had a great church family. I am fine."

Anne nodded and sniffed. "Nevertheless, I live with regret that I wasn't there for you."

"You did what you had to do," Taj said getting up and washing off his sticky hands. He hugged Anne and she hugged him back. He towered over her; her head reached him at his shoulder.

"I am here now," he whispered.

"At least I can get to watch my grand children grow up," Anne said feelingly.

Taj chuckled and looked into her clear brown eyes. "First, I have to find a mother for those grandchildren."

"I thought you found her already," Anne laughed.

"I hope so," Taj said, "but it's just three weeks. I need a lot more time to know if this is forever."

"I knew the second day I met Daryl that he was going to be my husband," Anne said. "We got married five weeks after meeting and we are still together. I still love him. I can't imagine what would happen if he died."

Taj smiled faintly. "I am happy that everything worked out."

"It was because of you that he is better," Anne said. "If you hadn't told the doctor…"

Taj shook his head. "Really it was Natasha whose suspicions worked in his favor."

Anne nodded. "She's a nice girl. Daryl is very grateful to all of you."

Taj's phone rang and he answered it.

"I am spending the weekend with you." Natasha said before he could say hello. "I'll sleep in your spare room."

"Okay." Taj said chuckling.

"I am tired of dorm living," Natasha said, "and this case is driving me crazy. I'll be over in ten minutes."

He hung up. "She's spending the weekend." Taj said to Anne.

Anne nodded. "Well, you two are invited to lunch tomorrow. I was planning to ask you, but this is so much better."

After Anne left, Taj grabbed up his briefcase, discarded his shoes and put on something more comfortable. Natasha was spending the weekend. His mood lifted exponentially.

***

"I wish tomorrow wasn't Monday," Natasha said. She had baked a chocolate cake and they had eaten the whole thing and were on the veranda savoring the last pieces.

"I like Mondays, actually," Taj said, "but I really enjoyed this weekend with you."

"It was fun," Natasha said nostalgically, "but I am going to have to face this case again."

Taj chewed his cake slowly and ate the last crumbs off his plate. "You know in any frustrating psychiatry case I have I always go back to the beginning."

"The beginning?" Natasha asked.

"Every problem has a beginning. Every person has a beginning." Taj placed his plate on the table between them.

Natasha looked out in the night. "The beginning for this case is too complicated. There are so many persons who wanted this man dead."

Taj shook his head. "But somebody really really wanted him dead and was not afraid to do it. Who was that?"

Natasha went to bed thinking about what Taj said
.
What was really the beginning of this case?