Classmate Murders - Bob Moats (ready player one ebook .txt) 📗

he is still there."

"Ok do that, let me know if anything develops." I said with a grin that he couldn't see through the phone.

"Forget it Richards! You're not part of this and I don't want to find out you are nosing around again."

"Ok, Sarge, I won't let you find out." I grinned again and hung up before he could reply.

I'm sure I was pissing him off which may not be a good thing. But I had become part of this when the killer threatened me. I had to be careful though, I didn't want any backlash toward my parents.

I pulled out the local business phone book and looked up the Pompo Deli and added the number to my cell phone book. I dialed the number and after a couple of rings and female voice came on.

"May I speak to Stacy?" I asked.

"You got her." She replied.

"Stacy, I was in there a couple hours ago, I asked you about suspicious people, I gave you my card."

"Yeah I remember you and the big bruiser with you." She replied.

Bruiser, I never thought of that word to describe Buck, but I guess it would fit.

"After we left did anyone ask about me?"

"Yeah, as a matter of fact. Some guy asked if your name was Jim and I said yes, since it was on your card. He said he thought it was you and knew you from high school. I showed him your card and he asked if I knew you, I said no I had just met you and told him you were asking me about suspicious people. He was nice and talked a bit but I had to work, he thanked me and went back to his computer. Funny thing, he didn't look as old as you to be in high school with you, no offense to your age."

"What did he look like." I asked ignoring her age comment.

"Well, he had a baseball cap on, tinted glasses, really big nose and a mustache. He was sitting so I don't know how tall he was, and he left about 15 minutes later but I didn't see him go."

The description fit the one Becker gave the Sarge earlier. Strange I didn't see him while I was there, but most the people at the computer workstations had their backs to me.

"Stacy, there should be a police officer coming in shortly, tell him what you told me and which computer was the guy using. I would suggest not letting anyone touch that computer till the police see it."

I could hear that same choking sound Stacy gave earlier when I told her about the classmate killer.

"Oh GOD, are you telling me I actually talked to the killer??"

"Stacy, calm down, I don't know if it's anything. Take a breath and wait for the police."

She said she saw a patrol car coming in the drive and dropped the phone. She was gone but I could still hear the noise from the deli and Stacy in the back ground yelling help. I'm sure that got Trappers blood up. I hung up and sat back in my creaking chair. I've got to oil this damn thing.

OK, I was trying to put a few things together in my head. What was the connection between Dee and Joyce other than they were in the same class. Same as me. I went over to my book shelf and down at the bottom was my senior year book. I had it there because I used it often as reference for when I was working on the alumni website. I plopped down on my bed and fluffed up the pillow behind me. I started from the front and slowly worked my way back checking the pictures as I skimmed. I went all the way through it and found nothing, so started again. Sometimes you see things better the second time around. I hated sports so I had breezed through that section the first time, but figured I better look a little closer this time. Then I saw her, Dee standing next to Joyce in a picture of six cheerleaders all in formation. I had forgot that Dee was a cheerleader. My fondest memories of her in that tiny skirt doing somersaults, as I took pictures. Not that I was a pervert, but I was the school photographer. Matter of fact the picture I was looking at was one of mine. I took the book to my desk. The computer was still online and I took one of my sticky notes and wrote down the names of the other cheerleaders. Hey, it was a start.

I set the book aside and started with the first name, Linda Grolich, and did a search on her. I knew of Linda, but not to talk to her, she was royalty in high school, you know the stuck up princess, who looked down at everyone. She was also buddies with the head cheerleader, Sue Carter. The usual million hits came up so I started with page one and clicked my way through a couple of pages before I found something interesting. It seems that Linda had opened a dance studio in West Bloomfield, so I clicked the link to go to her webpage. There she was looking a lot older than her cheerleader picture, but still not bad for a woman of sixty. She had turned the dance studio over to her daughter about two years ago, but kept a tight rein on it.

I copied her website off using a program called Local Website Archive, which can store an entire website in my computer. It finished downloading and I did a search on the next smiling cheerleader, Marge Holden. I had pretty good luck finding four out of six girls and had their websites stored away for later perusing. It was now just about 11:30 and I was wearing down.

I checked my email one last time, then I stretched out on my bed after closing down the computers. My Treo rang and I saw it was a private number again. It was now 4 A.M. and Trapper was probably calling to chew me out about stirring up Stacy.

"Hello"

"Richards, it's Trapper." Here it comes. "Did you know a Marge Holden from school?"

She was the second girl I found on the web. "Yeah, she now lives in Warren, owns a kennel."

"How'd you know?"

"Long story that I was going to tell you about tomorrow or I should say today. What about her?"

"The Warren police just called me, she's dead. Killed while they were protecting her."

Trapper wanted me to come in that morning so we could get our facts straight. I hung up and again tried to sleep. The killer wasn't wasting time, and half the class of 1967 cheerleading team was now dead.

Around 6 A.M. my mother was knocking on my door, stirring me out of a great dream, where I was giving a massage to Pamela Anderson in Las Vegas. I called out, asking what she wanted.

"There's a strange car in the drive, with a man sitting in it. He looks asleep."

I shot out of bed and threw on a robe and went to the living room window over looking the driveway. I saw it but didn't believe it. Buck was parked in the drive and he did look sound asleep, or dead. I told Mom not to worry, I'd explain and went back to get dressed.

I banged on the car window and Buck came to life bringing his .38 up with his hand. I yelled his name and he focused his eyes on me. The window slowly rolled down.

"Hey Jimmy. You still alive?"

"I guess if you hadn't been sitting here guarding my castle I probably would be dead by now. Thanks." I said with a smirk.

"Well, it was bothering me, knowing you were threatened, so I stopped by around 1 A.M. and kept an eye out" He grinned.

"Oh, like the eye you had out when I snuck up on you?"

He just looked sheepish and got out of the car.

"May as well come in while I calm my mother down. Don't say a word about the murders or my connection to it!" I warned.

We went in and Mom recognized Buck from the time he helped me move some things out of the garage and took them to my storage rental unit.

"Mom, Buck was out celebrating a birthday with a friend close by and was heading home but was feeling a bit woozy, so he parked in the drive to take a nap. Just so he wouldn't get stopped by the police on the road."

"Shame on you Buck, drinking and driving. Well, you were smart to stop before you got into trouble." She went off to deal with my Dad.

"Why'd you tell her that? I've been sober now for five years, now you got me drinking again." He grinned.

"Come with me, I've got more to tell you since last night."

We went into my room and I closed the door so Mom wouldn't hear. I sat and related all the new information since last night. He sat upright and let out a low whistle.

I continued, "I have to go over to visit the investigating cop and give him everything I know, want to go with me."

"Police don't like me. I got a history. I'll take you there but I'll just wait in the car, if you don't mind."

When we worked together Buck had told me about his bad boy times, back when he was into heavy drinking, and had run-ins with the law. I understood his concern, although he was clean, sober and an upstanding citizen now. Just old feelings are hard to shake off.

"That works for me. Let's go." I told a white lie to Mom that we were going out for breakfast, she insisted on making us breakfast but Buck said he had to take care of a couple of errands before we could eat and needed my help, so it would be his treat. She accepted that and scampered back off into Dad's room.

"Good, now we both have lied to my mother." I smiled.

Since it was still early, we decided to actually get breakfast, so we stopped at a Denny's by the police station. We ate and talked about the murders and I gave him a timeline on the whole mess. We talked till about 8:30. Buck paid, since he was still employed and we headed out.

We got to the Clinton Twp. police station by about 9am and Buck parked. I said I'd be back soon as possible and Buck replied that he had his DVD player with him and was going to watch a movie. I went in and told the desk officer I was supposed to see Trapper, he got on the phone and sent me in to the waiting room. I ended up on the same wooden chair while I waited. Trapper came out and signaled me to follow him into his office.

"Early yesterday, the Warren police received a call from a hysterical woman saying she got an email threatening her life. They sent a detective out and he recognized the M.O. and assigned an officer to watch her. He called my office but I was out on the Harper case. Some knucklehead didn't get the message to me. I swear