Blindsighted (Grant County #1) - Karin Slaughter Page 0,116

a bath upstairs.

Jeffrey took the steps two at a time, his leg protesting at the movement. He walked into what he assumed was Lena’s bedroom, searching for anything that might make sense of all of this. A hot pain was at the back of his eyes and everything he looked at had a tinge of red to it. Going through her drawers, moving clothes around in her closet, he had no idea what he expected to find. He found nothing.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Hank Norton was talking to Frank, his words a hot staccato of blame and denial. “She was supposed to be working with you,” Hank said. “You’re her partner.”

Jeffrey got a brief flash of Lena in her uncle’s voice. He was angry, accusatory. There was the same underlying hostility he had always heard in Lena’s tone.

Jeffrey took the heat off of Frank, saying, “I gave her time off, Mr. Norton. We assumed she would be at home.”

“Girl blows her head off right under my niece and you just assume she’s gonna be okay?” he hissed. “Jesus Christ, that’s the end of your responsibility, giving her the day off?”

“That’s not what I meant, Mr. Norton.”

“For fuck sakes, stop calling me Mr. Norton,” he screamed, throwing his hands into the air.

Jeffrey waited for the man to say more, but he turned suddenly, walking out of the kitchen. He slammed the back door behind him.

Frank spoke slowly, visibly upset. “I should’ve checked on her.”

“I should have,” Jeffrey said. “She’s my responsibility.”

“She’s everybody’s responsibility,” Frank countered. He started searching the kitchen, opening and closing drawers, going through cabinets. Frank obviously wasn’t really paying attention to what he was doing. He slammed the cabinet doors, more to work out his anger than to look for anything concrete. Jeffrey watched this for a while, then walked toward the window. He saw Lena’s black Celica in the driveway.

Jeffrey said, “Car’s still here.”

Frank slammed a drawer closed. “I saw that.”

“I’ll go check it out,” Jeffrey offered. He walked out the back door, passing Hank Norton, who was sitting on the steps leading into the backyard. He was smoking a cigarette, his movements awkward and angry.

Jeffrey asked him, “Has the car been here all the time you were gone?”

“How the fuck would I know that?” Norton snapped.

Jeffrey let this slide. He walked to the car, noting the lock was down on both doors. The tires on the passenger’s side looked fine and the hood of the car felt cool as he walked around it.

“Chief?” Frank called from the kitchen door. Hank Norton stood as Jeffrey walked back toward the house.

“What is it?” Norton asked. “Did you find something?”

Jeffrey walked back into the kitchen, spotting instantly what Frank had found. The word CUNT had been carved on the inside door of the cabinet over the stove.

“I don’t give a good goddamn about subpoenas,” Jeffrey told Mary Ann Moon as he sped toward the college. He held the phone in one hand and drove with the other.

“One of my detectives is missing right now, and the only lead I’ve got is this list.” He took a breath, trying to calm himself. “I have got to get access to those employment records.”

Moon was diplomatic. “Chief, we have to go through protocol here. This isn’t Grant County. We step on somebody’s toes and it’s not like we can make nice at the next church social.”

“Do you know what this guy’s been doing to women here?” he asked. “Are you willing to take responsibility for my detective being raped right now? Because I guarantee you that’s what’s happening to her.” He held his breath for a moment, trying not to let that image sink in.

When she did not respond, he said, “Someone carved something on a cabinet in her kitchen.” He paused, letting her absorb that. “Do you want to take a guess as to what that word is, Ms. Moon?”

Moon was silent, obviously thinking. “I can probably talk to a girl I know in records over there. Twelve years is a long time. I can’t make guarantees they’ll keep something like that handy. It’s probably on microfiche at the state records building.”

He gave her his cell phone number before ringing off.

“What’s the dorm number?” Frank asked as they drove through the gates of the college.

Jeffrey took out his notepad, flipping back a few pages. “Twelve,” he said. “She’s in Jefferson Hall.”

The Town Car fishtailed as he stopped in front of the dormitory. Jeffrey was out the door and up the steps