The Cat, The Professor And The Poison

Twenty-nine

I phoned Tom, and while I waited for him to arrive, Candace started working. First she called Baca to tell him about the conversation with the VanKleets, and then she pulled out her laptop to update the case file.

“The chief’s planning to have another talk with those people.” Candace sat on the sofa, waiting for her system to boot. “And guess what he told me? Evan does have an alibi. With Lawrence Johnson’s help, Chief Baca put out a few feelers in Denman. A convenience store owner spotted Evan’s car pass at least three times. Guess ‘driving around’ can be a real alibi after all.”

“I knew Evan was being honest,” I said with a smile. “He’s probably the only person who cared about the professor at all.”

I heard Tom’s familiar knock on the back door and went to answer. But only Syrah and Merlot came with me. Chablis had planted herself at the door to the basement bedroom, and I decided that’s where she would stay until she was again allowed to care for her precious family.

I was surprised when Tom cupped my face and kissed me when he came in. But what a nice surprise. Then he held up a leather satchel. “Where’s this microchip your brilliant kitty wanted you to remove?”

I handed him the glass jar from the counter.

He held it up to examine the contents. “That’s a microchip all right. Let’s go to your office and see what the computer tells us.”

“The computer? Are you going to put that inside my computer?”

He laughed. “No, but after I scan it and retrieve the data-”

“Wait. They already scanned it, and they didn’t find any ID number, so-”

“You mentioned gibberish, though. Did you see this gibberish?” he said.

“Yes. It looked like a bunch of ones and zeros,” I said.

Tom smiled. “That’s good. We call that binary code. I can scan that, record the information and input it. That should lead me to something.”

“You can do that?” I said.

“I’m in the security business. I know plenty about RFID technology. And spies know too much about it,” he said.

“RFID? You’re hurting my brain. Just do what you do,” I said.

“And tell us all about it when you’re done,” Candace called from her spot. “We need to solve something today.”

Tom walked into the living room, carrying his satchel. “Hey, Candace. How’s it going?”

“Could be better. Is there ever such a thing as cooperating with the police? Because I haven’t seen any cooperation lately,” she said.

“I think that’s always an uphill climb.” Tom looked at me. “Come on, Jilly.” Tom tucked the jar into his briefcase, took my hand and pulled me with him to my office.

I glanced back, and Candace mouthed, “Jilly?” with a questioning look. Then she gave me a thumbs-up.

The minute the office door was shut, he took me in his arms and gave me a more intense kiss than the one at the back door. Though I loved this, the jar in his satchel was pressing into my back. And pressing on my mind. I pulled away.

“Can we do this?” I said.

“Sure. You want to see how I work?” he said.

“That’s why I’m here,” I said. But though I am an extremely curious person, microchips seemed way over my head. And certainly not as fascinating as they seemed to Tom.

He took from his satchel what I now and forever more will recognize as a scanner along with the microchip.

“Why do you need one of those? Somehow I got the notion you’d have to take the chip apart,” I said.

“The chip has an antenna. It’s sending a signal. We just need to read what it’s telling us,” he said.

“It’s not talking to me,” I said. “Cats talk to me, but not little electronic devices.”

The doorbell rang, and I left Tom alone with his tiny antennas and signals. I assumed Kara must have forgot her key when she went off to who knew where. Candace once again had her gun stuffed in the back of her jeans. She was looking through the peephole, and before I could ask who was there, she threw the dead bolt and opened the door.

Brandt VanKleet stood on the stoop. “Is my brother here?” he said, trying to look past Candace and me.

“We haven’t heard from him,” Candace said. “Is there a problem?”

“I don’t believe you. He’s here. I know it,” Brandt said.

“He’s not here,” Candace said. “I tried to offer you a little help earlier, and-”

“Let him in, Candace,” I said. “He may act and think like he’s ready for the Supreme Court, but I can tell he’s worried.”

Candace sighed heavily. “Here’s the deal, Brandt. First of all, I’m armed. Second of all, there’s a very strong man, an ex-cop, working on something in the other room. You pull anything funny, and one or both of us will take you down. Understood?”

“All I care about is Evan. He’s depressed about our father’s death. I need to find him,” Brandt said.

And that’s where the worry was coming from. He really did care about his brother, even though he apparently didn’t want anyone to know.

“My rules if you come in here?” Candace said.

He nodded, and I had to say, his arrogance was quickly fading. He looked frightened.

Candace opened the door wider so he could enter. Once again, she made sure he walked ahead of her into the living room.

He glanced around. “You’re being straight? He’s not here?”

“We’re being straight,” I said quietly. “But you haven’t been, have you?”

Brandt exhaled and looked at the floor. “I never lied.”

“You just decided we didn’t need to know things. That’s a mistake, Brandt,” Candace said. “Sit down, and let’s see if what you’ve withheld might help us find Evan. That is, if he’s really missing. I’m sure you haven’t checked everywhere in town. Maybe he wants his space.”

“My brother and I may argue, but we do communicate. He said he was sleeping in-and that kid can sleep-but his room was empty.” Brandt plopped onto the sofa looking defeated and troubled. “Lawyers are supposed to be tough. And I know the law; I know that we didn’t have to say anything to the police. But that didn’t help us any. And it sure didn’t help you.” He raised his head and looked into Candace’s eyes.

She’d taken the seat opposite him. “He could have driven into town. It’s not that far. But since you’re concerned, you can help us.”

I sat next to Brandt. “Why are you so worried? Something happened, didn’t it? Another argument?”

Brandt looked at me with a troubled stare. “No. President Johnson called my mother. He told her that Officer Hoffman came here and attacked you for some reason. And that he took off and can’t be found. Is that true?”

I nodded. “Very true. Caught-on-videotape true.”

Candace’s face was taut with anger. “Why in the heck did Johnson tell you anything?”

“He cares about my mother,” Brandt said. “He’s worried that since Evan and Patrick Hoffman were friendly once, that could mean Evan might be… involved in this bad business going on here. Can you see why I was afraid my mother might have told you that today?”

“But you’re more worried about what Lawrence Johnson told your mother. You think Evan is with Patrick Hoffman?” I said.

“Not willingly. And, yes, that’s why I’m… afraid.” Brandt didn’t look down, didn’t stare out the window. He’d settled his gaze on Candace now, and he wanted help.

“Okay,” she said, her tone no longer tinged with anger. “Tell us everything and start with why you think they might be together.”

“It all started when my brother got drunk one night and passed out. Patrick Hoffman was there to pick him up, dust him off and steer him, so he said, in the right direction-to those wacko kids who adore Doug.”

“Those wacko kids?” I said. “Your brother considered them his friends.”

“Yeah, but Doug fed them all sorts of hype about global warming, saving the rain forest, treating animals ethically, things like that.” Brandt’s face reddened. “Don’t get me wrong. Those issues are important, but-”

“Yeah, they’re important,” Candace said. “But you’re saying Douglas Lieber might have had something to do with that protest the night Evan was arrested?”

“Something to do with it? He planned it. Evan told me so the other night-after we had that argument. We got our acts together and went to his room to talk. He was pretty upset because now Doug is saying he isn’t about to pay Evan’s tuition.”

“And yet he’d gotten Evan in trouble in the first place,” I said half to myself. “Was Lieber friends with Patrick Hoffman?”

“I don’t know about friends, but they knew each other,” Brandt said. “I’ve told you Doug was behind the protest, but how will it help you find Evan? Because I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Because you think Hoffman came to town?” I said.

“Right. Or maybe he’s disappeared for another reason. I mean, our father had awful highs and lows. Sometimes he wouldn’t get out of bed when he was on summer break from the college. Maybe Evan is depressed enough to do something worse than stay in bed.”

“You’re talking about suicide, huh?” Candace said.

Brandt nodded solemnly.

“Suicidal people are sometimes drawn to water,” Candace said. “We have one officer who runs rescues on the lake. We could send him out to check around the shores and the docks.”

“No,” I said. “My gut tells me Evan’s not suicidal. He wants the police to find the killer, wants to see that happen. You said you tried to reach him?”

“Like a hundred times. Voice mail over and over.” Brandt closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath. “Something is wrong.”

“Wait a minute,” I said. “Kara might know where he is. She’s been looking for information she can get from any source for her book.”

“Her book?” Brandt said.

“Never mind,” I said, unsure exactly what she’d told Brandt. “She programmed her number into my phone. Let me call her.”

I grabbed my phone off the end table. But I got voice mail, too.

“Text her,” Candace said.

“You think I know how to do that?” I said impatiently.

Candace took my phone, brought up a screen and used the tiny keyboard to type in the words phone home. When she was done, Candace said, “Now let’s hope she calls and that she knows where Evan is.”

“He likes to drive around,” Brandt said. “His rental is one of those tiny cars, a white Ford. He’s probably traveled the roads around here, and-”

“Your father’s place. Could he have gone there?” Candace said, her eyes alive with excitement.

“We did go there the other day-but I made sure we didn’t cross the crime-scene tape,” Brandt said.

“How much you wanna bet that’s where he is?” Candace said.

But before he could answer, my phone rang. Guess text messages work better than regular calls, because Kara’s caller ID came up. I started to ask her about Evan, but she interrupted me.

The fact that she was whispering was my first clue that something wasn’t right. I had to ask her to speak up.

“I was just texting you when I got yours. That guy is here at the professor’s farm. We looked in the window and Evan recognized Hoffman. You need to send the police.”

“So Evan’s with you,” I said, looking at Brandt and nodding.

His features relaxed, and he smiled.

“The police need to come without sirens, or Hoffman will run. That’s why I was afraid to call 911,” she said. “Hurry or he might leave.”

“You and Evan need to get out of there. Now,” I said.

“We’re leaving,” she said and disconnected.

My heart was beating a mile a minute as I explained everything to Candace and Brandt. Candace called Baca immediately and then went to the closet and came out with her holster. She strapped it on and put her gun in place.

“You two stay here with Tom.” She held out her hand. “I’ll need your keys-and Kara’s phone number.”

I showed her the number in my phone’s address book, and she must have committed it to memory because she simply repeated it. We went to the kitchen, and I grabbed my keys off the hook. “Maybe you’re blocked in,” I said.

But when we looked in the driveway I saw that Tom had parked his Prius alongside my van, and I didn’t see Brandt’s car, so he must have parked in the road.

Candace left, and now the worrying began for me as well as for Brandt.

“She’s good,” I said. “And Chief Baca’s good. They’ll catch this man. Then maybe we can understand why he killed your father and Rufus, because I’m convinced now that he did.”

“I might have an explanation.” It was Tom. He’d come into the living room and held his hand out to Brandt in greeting. They shook hands.

“What are you talking about?” I said.

Tom held up several sheets of paper with printing on them. “This explains why Professor Lieber did what he did.”

“Professor Lieber?” I whispered.