Separate from the World (20 page)

It was his habit to go through the students in order, starting with Able Sayers, who had committed suicide the day before commencement, at the end of Professor Wells’s first year of teaching. The count had held at five for the last twelve years. Besides Able Sayers, there had been two deaths from cancer, one in the first Iraq war, and one in a car crash in Boston. To have added Cathy Billett’s memory to his devotions had been nearly the limit of what Nathan Wells could bear.

Branden found him on his bench with his eyes closed, Cathy Billett’s essay lying open in his lap. When Branden sat down, Wells gently folded the pages and said, “It’s too hard, Mike. I can’t read them anymore.”

Branden said, “I didn’t know Cathy had written for you, Nate.”

Wells took a long look at Billett’s paper and handed it to Branden, saying, “It’s her final essay from my class on lesser-known American cultures. I told Arne Laughton this morning that I’ve retired, Mike. Gave him my letter.”

Branden nodded and smoothed his palm over the front of Billett’s essay, saying, “I’ll read them all for you, Nate, in your place. As long as I’m still here.”

Wells took a calming breath but said only, “OK, Mike. I can’t do it anymore.”

Branden held his peace, letting the oak grove serve as witness to their covenant. After a few moments, he broke the silence. “Hope Elliot wrote her senior thesis for you this year.”

Wells, staring inward at his own thoughts, seemed not to have heard.

“What can you tell me about her, Nate? About Hope Elliot.”

Wells pulled himself back to the present. “Hope Elliot? Solid student. Bs for the most part. She had a rough patch early last semester, but she got over it. Then, Cathy Billett.”

“They were friends?”

“Since Cathy’s first year. Except this last semester, of course. They were roommates last year.”

“Is Hope reliable, Nate?”

“On what topic?”

“Eddie Hunt-Myers.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. She told me something about Eddie. I need to know if she is reliable.”

“She knows a lot about him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I am.”

“They were an item, those two—up until last semester. But Eddie had a lot of girlfriends. He traded them in like used cars.”

“And how about Cathy Billett? What was her relationship to them?”

“She broke them up, Mike. Otherwise that would have been Hope up on the bell tower.”

“He drove a wedge between Hope and Cathy?”

“Very much so. I told her ‘good riddance.’”

“Hope?”

“Yes. I told her she was better off without him.”

“So you know Eddie, too,” Branden said, hoping to draw Professor Wells toward a comment about Eddie.

“Only had him for one class.”

“I think Eddie is pretty smart, Nate.”

“Too smart by half, Mike.”

Branden waited for the explanation.

“Eddie got everything the first time. If he heard it or read it, he had it down pat. Never really had to study. Trouble is, nothing ever held his interest long enough for him to master it.”

“Knew a little about everything, Nate?”

Wells nodded, “But not very much about anything.”

“He did finish a thesis for Aidan Newhouse, Nate.”

“Then that’s the first thing he ever finished in his life.”

THE REGISTRAR had Hope Elliot’s cell phone number, and when Branden rang it, she answered with a cautious, “Yes?”

“Hope Elliot?” Branden asked.

“Who’s calling?”

“Professor Michael Branden.”

Hope did not respond.

“Hope,” Branden said, “I’m listening, now.” He’d thought this through. It was the best thing he could say to gain her trust. “I want to hear about Eddie.”

“It doesn’t matter, Professor.”

“Hope, it does. It matters a lot.”

“Why?”

“I think his thesis is a fraud.”

“I could have told you that.”

“I also think he kidnapped two little Amish children. Last Saturday, Hope.”

“They all right?”

“They’re home, Hope, but they are not all right.”

“He’s got a stone for a heart, Professor. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself. He hasn’t got a single male friend in the whole world. And he hates his parents.”

“Can you help me understand that, Hope?”

“I’ll tell you several things about Eddie. He’s rich. He’ll never want for anything. But he takes what he wants, and he discards what he’s tired of. He threw me over for Cathy Billett without so much as a word to me. But before that, one night last October, he told me what he wanted out of life. I don’t know why he did, because Eddie hides his real nature most of the time. But he told me that night what he dreamed of most. I think he wanted to see shock in me. To see shock in my eyes, because that’s what he did when he told me—he looked so deep into my eyes that it felt like rape. He said his biggest dream in life was that his parents would be killed in a plane crash, and he’d inherit everything they have. How’s that for cold ambition, Professor? He would trade his family for a boatyard.”

Branden was stunned. It took him several long seconds to speak, then he said, “Hope, I want you to tell me again why you think he killed Cathy Billett.”

Silence from Hope Elliot.

“Hope? Are you still there?”

“Yes.”

Branden waited. He let time fill the connection.

Eventually, Hope said, “He called me yesterday, Dr. Branden.”

“Eddie?”

“He said he wants us to hook up again.”

“I hope you’re not considering that.”

“No, Professor. But that’s not what he meant.”

“Did he threaten you, Hope?”

“It was a threat just to hear his voice. He wanted me to know he can find me. I think he was laughing to himself when he spoke. You know—laughing that he’s so clever.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him he could take a long jump off a short pier, for all I cared.”

Branden chuckled and didn’t try to hide it. “I think you’re safe, Hope. He’s gone back to Florida.”

This time it was Hope Elliot who let a silent pause fill the connection.

“Hope?” Branden asked.

“Professor Branden, the number he called from had a 330 area code.”

“He didn’t use his cell phone?”

“I’d never have taken his call if I’d recognized his number. No, I think he called from a land line. But it was area code 330. The rest I don’t remember.”

“Check your phone records for incoming calls, Hope. That number will be there.”

“I deleted it, Professor. Didn’t want the call on my phone. Don’t want the creep in my head.”

“You going to be OK, Hope? Safe? At least until I can sort this out?”

“I’m in Montana. Flew out here with Cathy’s parents yesterday.”

“Does Eddie know where that is? The Billett ranch?”

“I think so.”

“Then be careful.”

“Don’t worry, Professor. The ranch hands out here all carry guns.”

WHEN MISSY TAGGERT showed up at the Brandens’ front door, Bruce Robertson was with her, and he was carrying two large pizzas. Caroline had started on a dinner salad, so she served that on the back porch, with the pizza. The four talked while they ate.

Missy said, “We went back out to the woods at Calmoutier, Mike. Didn’t find a thing.”

Branden shook his head. “I need something to link Eddie Hunt-Myers to this. I need something more than suspicions.”

Robertson said, “There, we may be able to help you,” and took a second slice. “I attended a seminar at Quantico—the FBI—last fall. It was about profiling criminal personalities. Developing an understanding of the types of personalities who commit these crimes, like kidnappings, torture, and murder. So, Missy and I were wondering, what kind of person could kidnap two little Amish kids like that, and use a butchered puppy to paralyze them with fear?”

Missy asked, “Mike, this Eddie. Is he a loner, or a joiner?”

Branden said, “One of his former girlfriends told me he’s definitely a loner.”

Missy took another slice and asked, “He a finisher or a quitter?”

“Nate Wells says he never really finished anything. Lost interest too fast.”

“Confident and forward, or hesitating and retiring?”

Caroline answered, “I think he’s overly confident.”

Missy asked, “Why?”

“He gave Michael a copy of his letter of apology to the Billetts. Asked him to read it and to help improve it. But I think he was playing us for fools.”

“That’s what’s so baffling,” the professor said. “There’s no reason for him to have done that.”

“He wanted you to think he’s a dunce,” Missy said.

“I suppose so,” Branden said.

“Was his mother at commencement, Mike?”

“Yes.”

“Notice anything between them?”

“Like what?”

“A strange glance? Maybe a weird antagonism? Something between them that shouldn’t be there.”

“His smile, when he hugged her,” Branden said.

“What about it?”

“Didn’t seem right, somehow.”

Missy nodded thoughtfully and asked, “Does he switch from girl to girl a lot, or has he kept a long-standing relationship with anyone?”

The professor said, “He’s had too many girlfriends. He dumps one and moves to another. Doesn’t seem to faze him.”

“It fits, Missy,” the sheriff said.

Caroline said, “What? What fits?”

Missy laid her slice of pizza back in the box and said, “It’s a certain personality type. I think Eddie could have done this—kidnapped the children. I think he’s the type.”

“What?” Branden asked, eyebrows raised.

Bruce said, “He’s got no follow-through, Mike. A short attention span. He’s cruel to people who love him, like Cathy Billett. He likes his thrills—writing an apology to the Billetts and then asking you to read it. He’s got an outgoing personality, but no real friendships. He has trouble with long-term relationships. He’s a loner, really. And if Missy’s right about those kidnappings, then he’s got no soul. No sense of remorse. He could have done that and never felt a thing. That’s the profile of an intelligent sociopath.”

“I don’t like who you’re describing,” Caroline said. “It’s creepy.”

“What exactly are you two saying?” Branden asked.

Missy said, “It’s possible he’s just antisocial at a criminal level, but he may also be borderline psychopathic.”

“He’s insane?” Caroline asked.

“Insane is probably not the right word,” Missy said. “For one thing, he’s not out of control. He probably understands himself quite well, although he may be somewhat delusional about his motives. He may not be able to appreciate the consequences of all of his actions, and he may not be much of a forward thinker. He probably has a poor understanding of ‘the future.’ But he knows what he wants, and he always knows what he is doing. So, he’s not ‘insane.’ But that’s what makes him so dangerous.”

Caroline said, “At least he’s back in Florida now.”

Cautiously, Branden said, “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

“Do you know where he is?” the sheriff asked.

Branden reluctantly shook his head. “Somewhere in Holmes County, Bruce. He made a phone call from right here in Holmes County.”

ROBERTSON TOOK his phone out, called Ed Hollings, the night dispatcher down at the jail, and spoke with urgency. “Ed, I want you to put it out to everyone, and I mean right now, that we’re looking for Mr. Eddie Hunt-Myers, who just graduated from Millersburg. Right, wait. Mike, we need your best description.”

“Six feet, maybe six-one. Two hundred pounds, give or take, blond hair, blue eyes, southern accent. He’s strong—built solid.”

“Did you get that, Ed? OK, now this kid is wanted for questioning in the two Amish kidnappings. He’s to be considered dangerous, and he may be armed. A knife that I know of. Don’t know about guns. Right, Ed. Right now—to everyone. Coordinate this with Wayne County, too.”

Branden said, “The Erbs, Bruce. Protect the Erbs.”

“Ed, send two units out to the two Erb farms on Nisley Road. Ricky Niell knows the addresses. OK, so call in the day shifts. No, both of them. I want this guy found.” He switched off.

Branden said, “You’ve pegged this a little higher than I had it.”

Robertson shook his head. “If he’s sociopathic, maybe even just antisocial, then he’s the type of person who would have kidnapped those two kids. That’s what got us started on this—asking what kind of person could do that.”

Branden argued, “But,
why
would he do that? I still can’t figure out the reason.”

“It’s so simple,” Caroline said softly. She set her salad bowl down and seemed miserable to be thinking such troubling thoughts. “It’s the phone.”

“What?” Branden asked.

“This only makes sense,” Caroline said, “if Eddie did it all. If that’s true, then he killed Benny Erb, expecting to recover the cell phone he had given to him. Well, he didn’t get if back by killing Benny, so he kidnapped the children, and John Hershberger took Eddie’s call on Benny’s phone. Israel Erb had given it to Hershberger after he took it from his daughter. Eddie would have called again and told Hershberger that he’d trade Albert for the phone, and Hershberger must have agreed. That’s why Eddie released Albert. He got what he wanted. Hershberger gave him Benny’s phone. That’s the phone Eddie originally gave to Benny, so he could ask Benny about the families out at Calmoutier. Eddie wanted the phone back, Michael. That’s what makes it all fit.”

The professor was stunned into silence. Robertson opened his phone and called Ed Hollings again. “Ed, Bruce. We also want to question a John Hershberger.”