“I couldn’t tell a color, pard. Too dirty. The button doesn’t look like it came from a black coat.”
“Which would make sense,” Decker said. “It’s hard to bury a body in winter. The ground is frozen.” A pause. “When did Delilah disappear?”
“Lemme look it up.” McAdams clicked onto her file. “Right after Thanksgiving vacation.”
“I wonder what the temperature was.” Decker clicked the keyboard. “Huh … first snowfall wasn’t until almost Christmas. I suppose theoretically you could bury a body, especially if the forest floor was covered with stuff to keep out the cold.”
McAdams said, “To me, the button looks like it came from a blouse or a shirt.”
“I agree. What about the other college student—Yvette Jones?” Decker brought up the file on his computer. “Also a brunette.”
“So she’s a contender.”
“Yep. Yvette’s roommate remembered seeing her in the morning … she was in the dining hall for lunch—cameras caught her leaving at two-fifteen. Then she went to a lecture at Murphy Hall: Investment for the Socially Conscious. She was caught on camera wearing jeans, a light-colored sweater over a light-colored blouse, and sneakers.”
“The button was light colored.”
“Yes. Yvette was five four, one twenty-six, brown hair, brown eyes. We have our files obviously, but the school didn’t turn them over to GPD until a few days later. I’m sure they also have their own files with their own information. We should find out.”
“Think they’d keep old files like that?”
“If they didn’t, they would be negligent. These are still open cases.” He leaned back in his desk chair. “Let’s see what the coroner has to say. Give him a call. He should have the bones laid out later in the afternoon.”
“He’s in Hamilton right?”
“He is. Do you want to grab lunch before we go? We’ve got time.”
“No, I’m fine. I’m still digesting breakfast.”
“It’s almost noon. What did you eat?”
“Three eggs, bacon, hash browns, orange juice, and three cups of coffee?”
“The Iris Special at Paul’s truck stop?”
“How would you know Paul’s truck stop, Old Man? There isn’t a shred of food that hasn’t been contaminated with bacon.”
“I was called out to the place last winter. Two hyped-up truckers got into it. Nothing serious, mostly tired guys letting off steam, but someone thought it was prudent to call in reinforcements. I’m sure I’d be called down a lot more often if the place had a liquor license.”
“The reason why college kids have passed it up. That and it isn’t in walking distance from the schools.”
“No, it’s definitely not a college hangout. Do you go there a lot?”
“All summer long. Paul’s makes an apple pie to rival my own.”
“Not your usual crowd, Harvard.”
“Some truth to that. The place is packed with long-distance haulers named Billy, Bud, Bubba, Cletus, Dwayne, Jessie, Jimmy, and lots and lots of Juniors. Sometimes the names are followed by Ray, Lee, or Boy as in Jonny Boy or Billy Boy. But the rednecks and I have reached a real truce. They call me Mr. Lawyer and ask me legal questions so that they can sue their employers for workman’s comp. The waitresses flirt with me and call me honey, and I leave them big tips. The place has Wi-Fi. I sit at the counter and surf the Net. Other than your house, it’s my home away from home.”
Rina was early, but Tilly Goldstein was even earlier. That was a good thing. Vegan Palace was already crowded and it was good that Tilly had snagged a table. The woman had blue eyes, short curly gray hair, and glasses that hung down from a chain around her neck. Today she had on a yellow, summery dress with short sleeves exposing thin arms and baggy skin. Rina slid into the chair opposite Tilly. Immediately they were handed menus by a young woman with blue hair who was studded with piercings and inked with tattoos. She told Tilly and Rina that her name was Sarah and she’d be back with water and pita bread.
When she left, Tilly said, “She has such a pretty face. Why would she want to walk around with pins in her like a voodoo doll? And the tattoos? Do you understand tattoos?”
“Kids get them to be unique. But when I see them, I immediately think of my parents, who were Holocaust survivors with tattooed numbers. What are you going to have?”
“What are you going to have?”
“I was thinking about the tofu curry or the vegan burger deluxe.”
“Get the curry. I’ll get stir-fry. I like soba noodles.”
Ten minutes later, Sarah came over to take the order. They made small talk until the food came. Then Tilly put her napkin on her lap.
“So what’s this about finding a body at Bogat Trail?”
“They found bones. Actually, I found bones.” Rina brought her up to speed. “Of course, the immediate thought was that it might be one of the missing girls from the colleges. Since you’ve been there for a while—”
“Don’t remind me.”
Rina pulled out a small pad. “What can you tell me about them?”
“I remember Delilah better than Yvette because Delilah was more recent. It was very sad. She was coming home from a party about three years ago and never made it to her dorm at Clarion. Her disappearance caused this whole brouhaha about lax campus security especially at night. The colleges agreed to post more guards. The board also instituted this walk-home policy that if anyone—male or female—felt the need to be accompanied anywhere on the campus at any time, day or night, there would be someone available to them.”
“Is the service used?”
“All the time. It was said that Delilah had to be the sacrificial lamb before the colleges wised up that sometimes campuses can be unsafe places.”
“I agree. But it seems like they’d have to hire an awful lot of guards to keep up with the demand.”
“No, no, no. It’s like Uber. We have a huge list of students from all the colleges who are willing to walk other students to and fro for pocket change. A person calls the office and we check around to see who is available at that time. We usually have at least forty to fifty students on call.”
“And how well are the students vetted?”
Tilly looked perturbed. “Honestly, they probably aren’t vetted. But the security office does have a list of the students from the call logs. If there’s a problem, someone knows who was called out.”
“Have there been problems?”
“I haven’t heard, but if there were, I’m sure they’re not publicized.” Tilly dug into her stir-fry. “Hmmm … good.”
“Yeah, the food’s really good. I can’t get my husband interested in vegetarian food.”
“That’s just men,” Tilly said. “You know, your husband could probably talk to the colleges about the Delilah Occum disappearance.”
“I’m sure he will.” Rina smiled. “What do you remember about Yvette Jones?”
“She also disappeared at night. I don’t remember the circumstances, Rina. Just that she never made it back