Tall Man Down - 19. Chapter 19

Leaving the theater that evening, after watching some of the auditions for the fall play, I ran into an unexpected road block because of a motorcycle accident. So I backed up, turned around, and detoured past the President’s House. At least, I started to, when I noticed its lights were on.

At least, I thought they were. There was a blink as I passed the driveway, then it was all dark hedges. I thought about going back, then figured I was seeing things. Then I went back anyway.

I parked my car down the block – a real professional – then walked to the driveway and peered around the bushes. I didn’t see a lot of lights – just one, thin, steady glow through the shutters of the side porch I’d been in off the living room. Since I’d been studying titles on books, and there were shelves of them, I figured it might have been Catlin’s study.

I wondered if it were a stray desk light that had simply been left on. Or even if it was a timed light, used for security. I couldn’t remember seeing a consistent light on in the house, but I’d never really paid attention before. I started to leave, then turned back, figuring What the hell? I’m this close. If anything’s wrong, I can see through the window.

But I’m not a complete fool. I called Don, told him what was happening, and waited for him to show up. Meanwhile, I moved my car back to the theater

Once Don appeared, we walked back to the President’s House. The yard around the study was heavy with bushes and plants, but there was an outside door, and a couple of steps leading up to it. The door was unfortunately solid, without even a peep hole, but standing close to it, I could lean out and just get a glimpse through the nearest window.

Someone – I thought a guy – was sitting at the desk, working at a computer. Someone so focused, he didn’t even hear us sneaking up.

Don knocked at the side of the door, not bothering to open the screen. The guy jumped, then looked toward us. But with only one light behind him I couldn’t see his face. “Police Department,” Don called. “Could you let us in?”

The “Could you?” was way friendlier than I would have been. I would have stopped with “Police!” But then I wasn’t the police, and there was no reason for me to be knocking on the side door of the President’s House door at ten o’clock on a random evening. Still, if the guy suddenly ran, I’d certainly help Don chase him down. After all, I’d gotten Don into this.

Instead, the guy simply opened the door. Or tried to. “Who’s there?” he shouted, while fiddling with the locks. I didn’t recognize the voice, but I might not have recognized Pete’s through the solid door.

“The police,” Don repeated.

“Do you have some ID?”

“Of course.”

Don reached for his wallet, while the guy continued trying the locks. It seemed the door wasn’t used very often.

“Look,” he finally admitted, “could you come around front? I can’t get this damned thing unjammed.”

I had the worst feeling we were about to make fools of ourselves – walking in on someone who had every reason to be using the President’s House. If it had been a woman, it might have been Abby, and maybe she and Catlin had used the room as a nearby but more private office. Or maybe not getting the door open was a trick. Maybe as we were going around front, the guy was slipping out the back.

But lights came on as whoever it was moved through the house. And when the front door opened, we faced Ted Catlin.

“It’s only you,” I said. And we all kind of grinned at the same time.

“We didn’t mean to scare you,” Don apologized. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ted told us, kind of laughing. “I should’ve come over here earlier – before I needed the lights. But I hate being on this campus – I always feel like the landowner’s son. So I kept putting it off.” He stared behind us for a second. “Look, could you come in? The fewer people who see me, the better.”

“Sure,” Don said. Though I wasn’t sure why we needed to go in. Still, Ted was using a computer on campus, and the house gave him access to a college phone.

He closed the door behind us, then led us back to the study, turning lights off again on the way. In the study, he fixed the shutters so the desk lamp wouldn’t show through them. “I don’t mean to make anything of this,” he went on, “but I’d really appreciate your not telling my mother I was here.”

I said nothing, just looked at Don. He was simply listening

“This is completely personal,” Ted continued. “Absolutely between Dad and me. But if Mom found out... well... Let’s just say things already haven’t been great this summer. I don’t mean to make them worse.”

When neither Don nor I replied, Ted went on.

“I don’t know how much you know,” he started. Then he stopped again, maybe wondering if he even needed to explain.

“We mainly know that your parents were working some things out,” I said, politely. “Maybe that’s all we need.”

He seemed to absorb that then must have decided to go on. “It may have been past ‘working out’ – I’m not really sure. And I love Mom, and don’t want to see her hurt in any way... But sometimes she’s... she’s...”

It didn’t seem that he didn’t want to explain, more that he almost couldn’t. And I honestly didn’t want more, and I’m sure neither did Don. But Don needed to tell him.

“It’s just that I’ve just been writing Dad a lot,” Ted picked up. “All summer, almost every day – it’s how we’ve been staying in touch. I mean, he was home a lot – whenever he wasn’t off fundraising. And he and Lisa have been playing tennis every week – a couple of times – so they kept in touch that way. But I’ve gotten way too good at tennis, and Dad kept trying to beat me without admitting it. But he couldn’t, and if I let him win, he knew it...”

He was wandering into things none of us wanted to hear.

“Anyway, I’ve been sending him a lot of e-mail – because what I wanted to say was too long for texts. And he’s been answering – really discussing personal stuff – maybe even things we couldn’t say face-to-face. And I always got rid of the messages afterwards – on my end. Because it was all very private, and I was still living at home, and my laptop can be anywhere in the house. And I’m not saying Mom would look – more like Lisa would, but she wouldn’t tell Mom... And I don’t know if you know this, either – there’s no reason – but my dad saves everything, and I didn’t want this computer – which is his – coming back to the house and then find Mom trolling through it. Because some of the things I said about her weren’t very nice – even if I thought they were honest. And... well... I have to live with her...”

I really wanted to say, “Hey, kid, you want a beer?” But I couldn’t even do that with my students, who – like Ted – weren’t old enough to drink. Not to mention breaking the rule of a teacher offering students alcohol. In any case, Don finally cut through.

“We really only stopped by to see who was in the house.”

I half expected Ted just to be embarrassed, realizing he’d told us things he didn’t need to. Instead, he immediately asked, “Is it off-limits?”

“Not really,” Don admitted. “There was the reception last week. So anything we might want to have looked at has hundreds of more prints over it.”

“Why would you want to look?”

“The police have to look at everything,” I explained. “It’s their way of keeping themselves protected.”

Ted nodded at that and then relaxed a bit. “You know you really scared me,” he added, smiling.

“We saw you jump.”

“Damn.” Now his face turned a little bit red.

“Who’d you think it was?” I asked.

“I had no idea. I just knew I shouldn’t be here and didn’t want to get caught. I also didn’t think this would take so long.” He pointed toward the computer. “But as I said, Dad kept almost everything. And once I started reading, I had to keep going back further.”

“How did you get in?” Don asked

“I took my Dad’s keys after dinner. They’ve just been on his dresser where they’ve always been at night – Mom’s not about to make any changes. And I told her I needed to run back to my dorm. I’d much rather be living there, but it’s not the time yet. It’s so hard. I want to be with her, but...”

“It’s okay,” I told him. “It really is.” But, increasingly – and probably inappropriately – I wanted to ask him what else was stored on that computer and the big back-up drive beside it. I wondered if there were other copies of the faculty files.

Don, however, wasn’t unexpectedly becoming a family friend, plus he had the advantage of being a police officer, so he cut right through.

“Can I ask what might seem like a personal question?”

“Sure,” Ted replied. Though I doubt he knew what was coming.

“When you were going through the computer, did you happen to find any back-ups for your dad’s school files? I don’t know how they’d be labeled. Faculty? Staff?”

“I was mostly looking at e-mail – and hoping he didn’t copy that into a file – you know, for later reference? Lisa and I have already turned up in several of his books – almost anytime there are kids. But now you have me thinking that I have to go through all his files. And there are probably thousands.”

“Well, if you see school files, you might want to let your mother know.”

“Why?” he asked. It was a reasonable question.

Don said nothing. So I assured Ted, “She’ll understand.”

He hesitated. “But then she’ll know I was going through Dad’s computer. And she’ll know I took his keys.”

It was something of a stalemate, and I took a risk.

“Would you mind if Don or I looked?”

Ted seemed to consider. “What’s in the files?”

Don couldn’t openly answer.

“Let’s just say they’re personal,” I explained. “And that you mother and Abby Rodelle have already decided they don’t need to be anything besides family property. So they’d be concerned if this computer didn’t come back to your house.”

Ted absorbed that and then turned to Don. “The police patrol this campus, don’t they? Since Dad wiped out the Rent-A-Cops?”

He probably didn’t think that was insulting, because it’s what a lot of people called the former campus security. Anyway, Don ignored it and admitted, “Yes, I could get into this house if I wanted.”

“Then if you find anything, please tell my mom. And if you don’t find anything, you don’t have to tell me.”

He seemed to be ready to leave.

“Are you finished here?” I asked. “I know we interrupted...”

“I was just about done.” He smiled. “Though now that you’ve told me there might be more, I may have to come back – during the day.” He paused and seemed to be thinking about something. “If I called the station,” he asked Don, “Could you let me in here? So I didn’t have to take the keys?”

“I think we can do that,” Don said. “In trade for someone in your family knowing we were going through the computer.”

“You got it. I just need to be out of here. I’m already late.”

“There’s always traffic to Amherst,” I reminded him. “Or you can say you got busy with friends.”

“I don’t want Mom to think that. It’s not the sort of thing she’d understand this week.”

“Then tell her you were catching up on assignments. You’re bright enough that she’d believe that.”

“Or at least pretend she would.” He smiled again. “Yeah, that’d work. Thanks.” He gestured toward the computer, “It’s all yours. Just turn it off when you go. And the deadbolt wasn’t locked on the front door. So just pull the door shut behind you, and it’ll lock.”

He offered his hand to Don, and Don shook it. Then he offered me his hand, and I just grinned. So he laughed and was out of there.

“Let’s look at those files before the night guy comes cruising by,” Don told me.

“I keep meaning to ask, ‘Don’t you have any cameras on campus?’ So someone don’t have to run over here all the time?”

Don just laughed. “That’s the first thing we suggested when we took over. There was an old video system that didn’t really work, and it only had a handful of cameras on the main buildings. And the cameras were live – no recordings – with a divided monitor down in security. So you couldn’t see much. There was every reason to trash it. And it wasn’t even that Greg Stratton didn’t want to spend the money. Someone on campus vetoed it as an invasion of privacy. Claimed it violated free speech.”

I had to laugh. “Oh, yeah – I remember that faculty meeting. Cameras got voted down in a second.”

“They might’ve helped on this.”

“Sure would.”

After that, Don and I spent maybe forty-five minutes scrolling through all the files we could find on Catlin’s computer and storage drive. We didn’t find what we were looking for, though we didn’t have time to open every file – just the ones with likely labels. The faculty files could have been hidden any where.

“Maybe Mrs. Catlin and Abby Rodelle can find something when they have time,” Don suggested. “Right now, we need to leave this alone.”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed. And I walked Don back to his car.

“You can tell Ted Catlin we didn’t find anything more about him, either,” Don offered. “That should make him feel better.”

“Sure. I don’t know when I’ll see him again. But I will.”

“It might also save him from making up dumb excuses.”