Field of Graves(25)

“Yes, ma’am, it is a shame. We need a favor, though. Would you mind letting us in and looking up another record for us? I promise it won’t take long.”

“Well, I’ve got my book club in an hour. If you can be quick...?” Taylor nodded and Gladys turned the key, unlocking the door, happy to chat despite her rush. “Have you ever read Middlesex? I just couldn’t seem to get through it. I’m embarrassed, really, I’m sure they’re all going to think I’m some sort of dummy, but it just didn’t capture my interest. These big books...”

Taylor smiled at Marcus and let the woman prattle as she led them into the office. Maybe they’d get lucky and she’d be too distracted to question their motive in pulling another record. News of Jordan Blake’s death wasn’t out yet; they needed to be careful.

“Whose record did you say you wanted?”

Marcus finally spoke. “Uh, we didn’t. But we need Jordan Blake’s file.”

Gladys stopped. “Jordan Blake,” she said disapprovingly. “Do you have a court order for the records?”

Marcus waved the blue-backed paper in front of her.

“You’re supposed to go give that to the counsel’s office first, but since Chief Graber took responsibility for the last one, I’m sure he’ll do the same for this. He knows you’re here?”

Taylor shifted uncomfortably and told a tiny white lie. “Um, no, ma’am. I wasn’t able to reach him before we got here. He may have gone home for the day.”

Gladys clucked, “That poor man. His leg pains him something awful. You just leave the court order with me, and I’ll make sure it’s all taken care of. Jordan Blake. My, oh my. Did she kill the Kincaid girl?”

Taylor froze. “Why would you say that, ma’am?”

Gladys was bumbling around the office like a bee in search of honey, smiling over her shoulder at Marcus all the while. “Oh, the Blake girl, she’s a bad apple, if you ask me.”

Bingo, Taylor thought. Gossip was as good as anything right now. Taylor leaned in confidentially to give the woman more comfort to spill the beans. “She is? Can you tell me why, Gladys?”

“Well.” She directed her scandal-laden voice at Marcus. “Jordan’s been trouble since day one. Always getting herself in scrapes. Drunk driving, wild parties, missing classes. She’s on academic probation again this semester. If I were the dean, I would have kicked her out long ago.”

“Why hasn’t he?”

“Why, because she’s a Blake, dear. Jordan is Gregory Blake’s daughter.”

Marcus looked blank, but Taylor suddenly understood. She mentally kicked herself for not putting it together sooner. The Blake family was one of the largest benefactors to Vanderbilt. Gregory Blake was an incredibly successful oilman from Texas who had attended Vanderbilt for undergrad and law. He’d made a lot of money and wanted to give it back. He’d done his best to get his name on Vanderbilt’s new library, but the honor had gone to Alexander Heard and his wife, Jean. Heard was the ex-chancellor of the university and had much more clout than the oilman from Texas.

But it all made sense now. Out of the country, no contact with their wild child, just throwing money at the situation rather than dealing with it. It was going to take some tightrope walking to keep this from becoming a huge mess.

Taylor grabbed Marcus’s hand to keep him from talking any further. Gladys had led them into the records room and was riffling through the cabinet marked B–2006. Graduates scheduled to receive their wings in 2006. Girls and boys ready to take on the world, unknowing and untried. Innocent. Taylor felt the old familiar worthlessness creeping up, but shut it away firmly.

Gladys was still talking. “So did that girl get into trouble again? I can see her getting involved with the wrong crowd, one that could hurt the Kincaid girl. I swear, one of these times she’s going to get herself in some real trouble. Such a shame, too, because she’s a smart girl. If she just applied herself... Here’s the file.” She looked at her watch. “Oh my, I really do have to lock up and get to my book club. The rain makes the traffic so awful. Why don’t you just take it with you? You can bring it back in the morning. Leave the subpoena on my desk. I’ll deal with it tomorrow, too.”

As she spoke, she ushered them out the door, locking it behind them. “See you in the morning.” She gave Marcus another smile and hurried off, humming quietly to herself.

Marcus was still speechless. Taylor started laughing, then found she couldn’t stop. The fit of hysteria was catching, and they ended up sitting on the steps of the building, trying to catch their breath. The rain had calmed to a heavy mist, and the overhang of the ornate edifice gave them enough shelter. Taking advantage of the dry spot, Taylor groped in her pocket and came up with a wrinkled pack of Camel Lights. She offered one to Marcus, who accepted sheepishly. “You’re a bad influence.”

“If the whole squad hadn’t decided to quit smoking at once, it would be a lot easier to cheat.”

They lit up, sat companionably for a few moments, smoking, not speaking, lost in their own theories about Jordan Blake. Without warning Taylor burst out laughing again. She stood and started to the car, giggling as Marcus walked slowly after her, impervious to the rain.

“All right, puppy. Let’s go talk to some of Jordan’s classmates. Give me a second, I’ve got to grab my phone—I left it in the car.”