Who’s That Girl Page 7

  Kate scanned the nameplates as she walked by. She picked up her pace a bit, feeling like she might be nearing the end of her quest. The names didn’t seem to be in any particular order. She had almost reached the far end of the hall before she spotted the name she sought: Dr. Roger M. White.

  With a sigh of relief, Kate moved closer to read the placard. Today, Dr. White’s office hours were between one and four o’clock. Kate felt a sense of relief. She had come at exactly the right time.

  Kate stepped up to the door. As she raised her hand to knock on the heavy wood surface, it opened to reveal a young woman.

  “Thank you so much,” the woman called back over her shoulder. “That class in critical thinking sounds like exactly what I need. I’ll plan to sign up for it next fall.”

  She turned quickly and nearly collided with Kate in the doorway. “Oh, I’m sorry!” The girl stepped past Kate and gave her an apologetic look before walking away.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Kate called after her.

  The office door still stood ajar, so Kate tapped on the door frame and leaned inside.

  Chapter Ten

  A lean, bearded man who looked to be in his midthirties looked up from his cluttered desk with a distracted expression.

  “Did you forget something, Lauren?” Bewilderment clouded his face when he saw Kate. “I’m sorry. I thought—”

  “That’s all right. I was standing right here when your other visitor left. I didn’t mean to startle you. May I speak to you for a few minutes?”

  “Oh, of course.”

  The professor stood and made a futile effort at straightening a lopsided stack of books while Kate stepped inside. He waved his hand to indicate the only available seat, then lowered himself back into his chair.

  He watched Kate as she sat down, then propped his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “I don’t remember seeing you around campus. Are you one of our nontraditional students?”

  “No,” Kate said, “I’m—”

  “Ah, a parent, then. Is your son or daughter in one of my classes?”

  “No, no.” Kate spoke quickly, hoping to avoid another interruption. “My name is Kate Hanlon, and I live in Copper Mill.”

  The man nodded, though the look on his face reflected utter confusion. “Okay, then. I’m Dr. Roger White,” he said. “But I’m assuming you know that. How can I help you?”

  “Actually,” Kate began, “I’m hoping I can help you.”

  Dr. White pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and regarded Kate quizzically. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I realize barging in like this must seem very peculiar. My reason for coming here was to ask you whether you’ve lost a cuff link recently.”

  Dr. White’s head snapped back, then a guarded expression settled over his features. “I own some cuff links,” he said without inflection. “But what makes you think I might have lost one?”

  Kate’s pulse raced, and she leaned forward slightly in her chair. Keeping her eyes focused on the professor’s face, she said, “Our church was doing some cleaning at a campground near Copper Mill. I found a cuff link on the floor of the women’s restroom.”

  “The ladies’ room?” the professor echoed in a tone of disbelief. “What on earth would make you think it was mine?”

  “It had some engraving on it,” Kate explained. “A crest and a monogram. I did a little research and learned that the crest is identical to the one used by Haywood College. Then I looked for anyone on the faculty with the same initials as the monogram. Yours were the only ones that fit.”

  Dr. White’s eyes narrowed, but otherwise his face remained expressionless. Too much so? Kate wondered. Surely news like that should produce more of a reaction than what she was seeing.

  “I’m a little perplexed as to why you’d take it upon yourself to track me down like this.”

  “Let’s just say that I was curious. I love a good mystery, and I hate to let a puzzle go unsolved. My husband might be more apt to describe it as sheer nosiness, though.” Kate smiled, hoping her little joke would lighten the mood.

  “And so you brought the cuff link here, hoping to reunite it with its rightful owner?” His voice held a slightly amused note. “I can’t imagine how anything of mine would have wound up in a place like that, but I suppose I can take a look at it since you’ve gone to all this trouble.” He held out his hand and frowned when Kate shook her head.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have it with me, but I did bring a sketch of the engraving that was on it.” She reached into her handbag and pulled out the folded drawing. “The cuff link is in the possession of the Harrington County Sheriff’s Office at the moment.”

  The professor’s chair scraped against the floor as he scooted it back and stood abruptly. “It certainly isn’t mine, then. I’m afraid you’ve made a trip out here for nothing. Good day.”

  Back in the hallway, Kate stared at the professor’s office door, firmly closed against further intrusion. He didn’t even give me a chance to ask about the girl. With her head bowed, she retraced her steps to the heavy oak doors and stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight.

  What now? From what she had observed, she felt sure Dr. White was the cuff link’s owner, but his reaction only stirred up more questions.

  His refusal to admit the cuff link belonged to him might be due to simple nervousness at being involved in any legal proceeding, but Kate suspected it was more than that. She still had no firm idea how the cuff link wound up in the women’s restroom or whether it was indeed connected to the hospitalized girl. But from the way the professor had reacted, she felt sure he knew more than he was telling.

  Kate started back across the campus, deep in thought. The birds were still chirping, and the hum of the mower continued, but the quiet of the campus now seemed like a stifling blanket instead of a welcoming peace. She quickened her steps, suddenly anxious to be away from the place.

  Halfway back to the spot where she’d left her car, an idea struck her, and Kate wondered why she hadn’t thought of it before. The injured girl was roughly college age. What if she was a student here at Haywood? She might even be in one of Dr. White’s classes. That still wouldn’t explain the cuff link’s presence at the campground, but perhaps Kate could at least establish her identity.

  She stopped and pulled the map out of her handbag again. After a moment’s perusal, she looked around to get her bearings, then turned onto a path that cut off to the left, toward the campus library.

  The two-story building stood near one edge of the campus, its entrance flanked by chestnut trees. Kate mounted the steps to the broad porch and pulled open the glass entry door. The hush inside the building and the students hunched over books at the heavy oak tables were reminders that she had entered a place set aside for research and study. The sand-colored carpet muffled Kate’s steps as she walked up to the circulation desk.

  A thin-faced woman with a pair of reading glasses perched precariously on the bridge of her nose glanced up and gave Kate a sharp look. “May I help you?”

  Kate put on a disarming smile. “Yes, thank you. I’m looking for the current yearbook.”

  The woman eyed her for a moment, then turned to a set of bookshelves behind her and plucked a volume bound in burgundy leather from the middle shelf. “This is last year’s, the most recent one we have. The one for the current year won’t be out for another couple of weeks.”

  She held the book out to Kate but didn’t release her grip on it. “Are you a student here? Or adjunct faculty, perhaps?”

  “No, is that a problem?”

  The librarian paused, and her mouth twisted as she seemed to consider Kate’s question. “I guess not.” The woman sniffed and finally relinquished her hold. “You may look at it, but just be aware that you can’t take it out of this room.”

  Kate nodded and thanked the woman. Looking around, she located an overstuffed chair in one corner and went over
to it. She sank into the soft cushion and spread the yearbook open on her lap. Rows of smiling young faces stared back at her.

  Kate turned the pages one by one. Photos of student activities took up a sizable portion of the front. When she reached the faculty section, she paused and scanned the photos carefully.

  Dr. Roger White hadn’t worn a beard the previous year, Kate noted. It made him appear younger than he had when she’d seen him face-to-face. But there was another difference too. Kate bent over the picture, trying to determine what that might be.

  He looked happier, she decided. Less careworn. The man she had spoken to a few moments before had lines etched at the corners of his eyes and skin stretched taut across his cheekbones. Was the difference in his appearance due to the natural processes of age, or was there more to it than that?

  She turned to the beginning of the student section. If the girl’s photo was in there, she realized, recognizing it might not be so simple. After all, she’d only seen the young woman with her face swollen and bruised.

  Kate thought back to the previous afternoon when she sat beside the girl’s bed, praying for her and hoping she would soon open her eyes. Her artist’s eye was trained to note and remember details. She closed her eyes and tried to think past the swelling and discoloration to recall the underlying facial structure. When she felt she had a fair idea of what to look for, she continued to leaf through the yearbook.

  Kate scanned the Haywood coeds one by one, making her way through the senior and junior classes. When she reached the end of the sophomores, she glanced at her watch and flinched. Searching through the yearbook had taken far longer than she’d expected. She wondered if Paul had started to worry about her.

  I’ll give him a call as soon as I finish. There’s only one more class to go. Kate turned the next page and started perusing the freshmen. On the second page of that section, her gaze was arrested by a face in the top row.

  Kate stared at the photo, wondering if she had really found what she’d been looking for, or if this flash of recognition was just a product of wishful thinking. She looked at the face more closely, examining every detail. She noted marked differences between the beaming girl before her and the pale face resting on the hospital pillow, but enough of the basic features were the same to make Kate feel sure that she had found a match.

  She looked down at the name below the photo: Casey Barnes.

  “Casey,” Kate whispered, trying the name on for size. She nodded. “Casey,” she repeated softly. She would try it out the next time she went to the hospital and see if it brought about any reaction.

  After struggling out of the overly soft chair, Kate carried the yearbook back up to the front desk. The thin-faced librarian sat with her back to the room, so Kate cleared her throat softly to catch the other woman’s attention.

  “I’d like to make a photocopy, please.”

  The librarian peered at her suspiciously over the rim of her glasses, then gave a brief nod. “I can do that for you. Which page is it?”

  “This one.” Kate pointed to the page with Casey’s photo.

  The librarian took the yearbook over to the copier and carefully laid it open on the glass. Looking over her shoulder, she asked, “Do you only want one copy?”

  Kate nodded, then a sudden thought struck her. “Would you mind making a copy of the copyright page? And the front cover?”

  The librarian pinched her lips together, but went ahead and did as Kate asked. When the third sheet of paper had come out of the copier, she glanced over. “Are you finished with this?”

  When Kate nodded, the librarian returned the yearbook to its shelf and carried the copies over to the desk. “That will be thirty cents.”

  She held on to the papers while Kate fished in her wallet for change, as if she expected Kate to grab the copies and sprint out the front door without paying.

  Kate handed over three dimes. “Thank you very much.” After folding the copies and slipping them into her handbag, she exited the building. She gave Paul a quick call to let him know she was on her way, then headed back across campus to her Honda.

  Chapter Eleven

  Back at Orchard Hill, Kate parked near the spot where she’d let Paul out earlier. She got out and locked the door, then proceeded up the walk and past the white pillars that framed the front entrance.

  She found Paul and Nehemiah deep in conversation in the sunroom. Both men appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely. They looked up and smiled when she drew near.

  “It’s good to see you, Kate,” Nehemiah said. “Thanks for letting Paul spend some time with me.”

  “I’m glad it worked out so he could. It does him as much good as it does you...probably more.” Kate leaned over to give the elderly man a hug.

  Paul reached out and caught her fingers in his. “How did it go? You were gone longer than I expected.”

  Kate hid a pleased smile at the thought that he’d missed her. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure.” She sank into a nearby chair and let out a long sigh.

  Paul and Nehemiah exchanged glances, and Nehemiah said, “I have a feeling there’s a story behind that remark.”

  Kate mustered up a weak smile but didn’t respond. Fatigue from the eventful day washed over her, making her feel as though she’d like nothing more than to curl up and sleep for a week.

  Paul tilted his head and regarded her with concern. “Are you all right, Katie girl? Do you want to tell us about it?”

  “It always helps me to talk things out when I’m confused,” Nehemiah encouraged her.

  Their show of genuine interest helped revive Kate’s flagging spirits. “Are you sure you won’t be bored?” she teased.

  Nehemiah snorted. “Not likely. Paul already told me why you drove down here. It sounds like you have another mystery afoot. So you’re on the hunt for missing clues, are you?”

  “That’s right.” Kate smiled at the older man’s enthusiasm. “At the moment, though, I feel like I have more questions than answers.”

  Nehemiah’s gray eyes twinkled. “Then go ahead and tell us what’s going on. Maybe we can help sort it all out. And if not, at least you’ve provided a diversion for an old man.”

  Kate sputtered with laughter. “Old, indeed. You have more energy and stamina than most thirty-year-olds I know.” She sat up straighter and looked at Paul, who nodded his encouragement.

  “Well, I did get in to see Dr. White. I’m not sure what I expected, but whatever it was, that’s not what I got.” She recounted her conversation with the philosophy professor and described his abrupt shutdown when she brought up the fact that the sheriff was holding the cuff link as evidence.

  Nehemiah stroked his chin with a blue-veined hand. “That’s interesting. It sounds like he might be trying to hide something.”

  “That’s exactly what I thought,” Kate said.

  She went on, telling the men about her impulsive stop at the library and the photo she discovered in the yearbook.

  “You mean you found her?” Paul’s clear-blue eyes lit up with pride.

  Kate nodded. “I think so. It isn’t a positive identification, but I’m fairly certain it’s her. Certain enough to let Skip know so he can start checking into it. Here, take a look.”

  She opened her handbag and took out the folded copies. Sorting through them, she held out the sheet with the photo to Paul. “This one,” she said pointing. “Casey Barnes.”

  He took the paper and held it so that both he and Nehemiah could look at it.

  “She’s a pretty girl,” Paul said, sympathy coloring his voice. “What a shame that something like this—whatever this turns out to be—happened to her.”

  Nehemiah reached out his hand. “Let me take a closer look at that.” He slipped the sheet from Paul’s fingers and held it nearer to his face.

  After a long moment, he looked up at Kate. Excitement rang in his voice when he said, “I know this girl!”

  Kate and Paul exchanged glances.

  “Yo
u’ve seen her before?” Kate asked. “Where?”

  “Right here.” Nehemiah laughed at her astonished gasp.

  Kate pressed her hand against her forehead and rubbed her temple. “I must be missing something here.”

  Nehemiah chuckled. “I used to see her fairly regularly when she came to visit one of the other residents.”

  Kate slipped back into detective mode. “Who is it? Can I talk to this person and show him, or her, the picture?”

  Then the significance of Nehemiah’s words sank in. “You said used to,” she repeated solemnly. “I take it she doesn’t come here anymore?”

  Nehemiah shook his head, and his voice softened. “I’m afraid not. The man she used to visit passed away several months ago.”

  Kate’s disappointment must have been evident on her face. Nehemiah clucked sympathetically, and Paul reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Can you tell us anything at all about the girl or the other resident?” he asked Nehemiah.

  “Not much, I’m afraid. I don’t believe I’ve ever actually spoken to this young lady.” Nehemiah looked at the photo again and smiled. “Casey, is it? A pretty name for a pretty girl. No, I didn’t talk to her, but I got to know her by sight. She came around every week or so to visit.”

  “Why did she come so often?” Kate wondered aloud. “Was she related to him?”

  “I don’t know that either,” Nehemiah sighed. “This fellow wasn’t exactly the type of person to sit down and share his life story. He’d have been more likely to tell you to go take a long walk off a short pier. He was a real curmudgeon.”

  Nehemiah’s face took on a distant expression, as though he was watching events from the past play out before him. “He wasn’t friendly with anyone here that I know of. And he didn’t seem to welcome Casey’s visits, even though she was the only one who ever came to see him.”

  The older man blinked, then he turned his gaze back to Paul and Kate again. “A place like Orchard Hill can be wonderful, but when you don’t have any friends or family around, it’s easy to become ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ I can’t tell you how blessed I feel that a number of people drop in to see me from time to time.”