The second in the adventures of Jeff Terrell, his partner, Bud, and Naomi. Inspired by an actual case of a death at a college campus and a foiled terrorist attack in Las Vegas, the story follows our heroes as they become involved in a murder and the theft of dangerous chemicals from a college chemistry lab. Meanwhile, Naomi must deal with an attractive graduate student who seems to take an avid interest in Jeff. Perhaps the student’s interest is more than what it appears.
Chapter One—The Hallowed Halls
Oh, the hallowed halls of education—a place where aged sages impart
knowledge to eager, young pupils. A place where young minds flourish from being
nurtured with stimulating conversations and challenging classes. A place where
the thirst for knowledge replaces the shackles of illiteracy. What a place to
be. So, what were we doing here? Good question! Well, it began with car
trouble.
Perhaps I should introduce us first. I’m Beauford, but everyone calls me
Bud. My partner is Jeff Terrell. We originally met in the Marine Corps when we
served together with the military police in California and then later Iraq. We
returned to the States, got out of the Corps and spent a couple of years as
rent-a-cops before Jeff became a private investigator. The two of us were doing
okay. All right, maybe not okay, but we managed to stay out of trouble and most
of the time, pay our bills. The truth is real live private investigation
is nothing like TV shows with lots of action, lots of beautiful women and
romance. It’s more like lots of boredom, lots of cheap clients you have to
chase down to get paid, and lots of bad coffee. On television, there are murder
cases, robberies, kidnappings, and adventures. Our adventure usually involves
listening to neighbors who gossip, going through garbage to find embarrassing
facts, and dealing with a lot of bad take-out.
Today, Jeff’s girlfriend, Naomi, had car trouble. I don’t mean the
battery is a dead kind of thing. I mean it’s the kind of thing where Jeff
stands over the engine and asks Naomi to try starting the engine and he looks
like he is examining the engine, before he says he thinks the problem is with
the starter. In other words, he didn’t have a clue as to what was wrong. Now
me, I’ll admit it—I don’t know a thing about cars except you get in them to go
somewhere. Good grief, I don’t even have a driver’s license.
So, after half an hour of Jeff trying to impress Naomi, and of Naomi getting
more upset because she was late for class, we finally came up with the idea of
us taking Naomi to her college class.
Understand, these college classes are important to Naomi. She used to work
as a receptionist at an insurance company until she met us. Hey, it’s not our
fault she quit. Her job came to an end after a couple of homicides and her
former boss was arrested. Not that she blames us, especially since it was her
boss who tried to kill her. Anyway, Naomi is now taking classes at night in an
effort to earn a degree and go into business for herself. She’s not quite sure
what she wants to do, but she’s sure she doesn’t want to go back to being a
receptionist for an insurance company.
So here we were volunteering to take Naomi to her class and to wait three
hours until her class finished so we could take her home. It started out well
enough. Jeff kissed Naomi goodbye and we headed off to find the cafeteria. Yes,
Naomi did give us directions. It’s amazing, we spent all those hours doing
field map and compass training in the Marines, all those missions in the desert
in Iraq where the closest thing to a landmark was the intersection of two roads
in the endless sand, and yet we got lost going to the most popular place on
campus. It’s a good thing we weren’t with the Lewis and Clark Expedition. We
would have ended up in Pittsburgh, then headed south in search of Canada.
Furthermore, Jeff and I are not new to college. I remember when we first
hooked up after getting out of the military. Jeff came to this very university
to check it out. I remember us going to the registrar’s office and Jeff trying
to get the young lady’s phone number. She was one of those picture-perfect
blonds with a tight sweater, a very short skirt, and a figure that would cause
men to chase after her like hound dogs after bacon. I remember she gave him an
application form, a college catalog, a smile, and no phone number. I remember
we actually did find the cafeteria. I remember getting in line behind another
possible freshman, and this individual coming up to the milk dispenser. It was
the kind you find in school cafeterias throughout the country, where you put a
large five-gallon carton of milk in the dispenser and weave the little plastic
hose through the lever.
Anyway, this guy grabbed hold of the lever. He pushed it, pulled it, and
twisted it. He did everything but lift up the lever. The machine has one moving
part and this guy can’t figure it out. A young lady standing next to him got
tired of waiting for him to figure it out. She lifted up the handle and showed
him how to get milk from the big silver box. The boy looked at the glass of
milk and said “Wow, how intense.” I remember Jeff looking at me and deciding if
this is higher education, then we really didn’t need it.
So here we were, walking down the hallway in the basement of the science
building. Once again, we were wandering the halls of this noble institution,
lost. It was just like old times; like we had never left. A woman came running
from around the corner.
“Oh my god, he’s dead, he’s dead,” she screamed.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t like old times.
*****
“He’s dead. Someone help. He’s dead,” the young lady kept screaming. She ran
up to Jeff and grabbed his arms. “Do something. Help him.”
Now my first thought is how do you help a dead guy? Jeff, on the other hand
was dealing with an attractive woman holding onto him. She was in her late
twenties, tall and sexy in a bright blouse, jeans and dark jacket. She wasn’t
wearing any jewelry except for a flowered watch and a pair of pierced, loop
earrings. On her back was a full dark backpack. She had that wholesome beauty
which needed very little if any makeup. In short, if she hadn’t been half
hysterical about some dead guy, Jeff would be enjoying himself.
“Calm down,” Jeff said as he grabbed hold of her arms to keep her from
running away. “What happened? Where is this dead guy?”
“He’s…he’s over there,” she replied pointing down the hallway to a room
around the corner and out of sight.
“Come on and show me,” Jeff insisted while holding on to her arm and moving
toward the direction she had pointed.
The woman shook her head. “No, no, I can’t”
Jeff took hold of her arms again. “Look it’s okay. Show me where you found
the body. I’ll take care of it after that.”
She took a small step toward the way she had come. Then took another one as
she once again pointed, “Around the corner, in a storeroom off to the right.
That’s where I saw him. He’s dead. I just know it.”
“What happened?” Jeff asked.
“I was coming down the hall when I happened to look in the storeroom and saw
him on the floor,” the young woman answered. “I panicked and started running. I
don’t know what to do.”
Jeff let go of the woman’s arms. “You wait here. Bud and I will check it out
and then we’ll see what to do. In the meantime, call the police.”
We left her there in the hallway pulling her cell phone out of her pocket.
We turned the corner to find several closed rooms except for one partially
opened on the right. We cautiously approached the door. Jeff slowly pushed the
door open a bit more. There were shelves with boxes labeled with chemical names
and formulas. There were also several places where patterns in the dust gave
evidence that something had been removed recently. We stepped into the room to
see the body on the floor. I could smell a strange odor, which became stronger
as we entered the storeroom. Jeff kneeled down to check for a pulse. Feeling
none, he stood up.
The body was that of a young man, face up. He was dressed in jeans and a
Fort Lauderdale tee shirt. Beside him, on the right side, was a large canister
and a bath towel. There were no visible wounds, but from the lad’s pale color
and lack of breathing, it was obvious he was dead. On a shelf to the victim’s
left were a notebook and some textbooks. I stooped down to get a better look,
to kind of sniff around for clues. First, I checked to make sure he was dead.
Then I checked out the canister next to the body. I started to feel lightheaded
and had a hard time staying on my feet. The next thing I knew I had fallen
down. I was still conscious, but unable to do anything but watch as Jeff came
rushing to my side.
“Bud, what’s wrong?” Jeff asked as he knelt down by me. “Come on buddy. I’ll
get you out of here.” Jeff put his arms around my chest and started to drag me
out of the room. I could feel the strain on my muscles as Jeff pulled me into
the hallway. It was rather uncomfortable and embarrassing, but I was in no
position to argue. In fact, I even felt it was a bit humorous. He dragged me
outside of the room and closed the door. I would have helped but staying
conscious was about all I could do. I wouldn’t have felt so embarrassed if Jeff
had been dragging me out of a bar, at least then I would have a good excuse for
being in this condition.
Jeff went down the hall to find the woman. She was gone. He quickly came
back, took out his cell phone, and called 9-1-1. He gave the operator a
location from the sign on the storeroom. As soon as he finished, he checked to
see how I was doing. I hadn’t gotten any worse, but I wasn’t feeling any better
either.
“Don’t worry Bud. The paramedics are on their way.”
Great! We have one dead guy, and I’m totally out of it. Still Jeff was there
rubbing my back and encouraging me to hang on. No problem, I wasn’t going
anywhere.
*****
Jeff was still comforting me when a campus police officer showed up. “I just
got a 9-1-1 call about someone murdered down here?”
“Not quite,” Jeff said. “I called in there was a dead body down here, in
that storeroom as a matter of fact. But I never said anything about it being a
homicide.”
“Maybe I got it wrong,” the campus police officer said. “What can you tell
me?”
“Found someone dead on the floor,” Jeff answered. “Called 9-1-1 and we were
waiting for you, or someone else, to take over.”
Before the campus cop could respond, two paramedics came rushing around the
corner with their kits and a gurney. “Someone called about a person down.”
“Yeah,” Jeff answered. “There’s a body in there. I’m pretty sure you’re too
late.”
“Hey, let us worry about that.” The paramedics entered the storeroom.
Meanwhile, the campus police officer pulled out his cell phone and made a call.
While we couldn’t see what they were doing, we could hear the paramedics
opening kits and talking. Within a few minutes, they came out. “You were right.
He’s gone. What’s wrong with him?” one of the paramedics asked pointing to me.
“He collapsed,” Jeff answered. “Can you do something to help him?”
One of the paramedics kneeled down to take a closer look at me. He pulled
back an eyelid and lifted up my lip. Here I was, feeling nauseous and
miserable, unable to really move, pissed as hell about the situation, and yet I
felt like laughing at the position I was in.
“It’s probably a reaction to the nitrous oxide,” the paramedic said. “He
should be all right in a few minutes. Don’t worry. It even started to bother us
when we were in there.”
“Nitrous oxide?” Jeff asked.
“Yeah, laughing gas,” the other paramedic explained. “The gas in there was
laughing gas. It’s a kind of anesthetic.”
Before he could explain further, two cops came around the corner and met up
with the campus cop. After a brief conversation, the two police officers and
the campus cop came over to us. “Someone called in a dead body?” the senior
police officer asked.
“Yeah,” one of the paramedics replied. “He’s in the room over there. We
checked for vitals, but he’s dead.”
One of the police officers went into the room and took a quick look around.
He came out and closed the door. The other one spoke into the microphone on his
shoulder. He called for the coroner and the detectives.
*****
I was beginning to feel better, not much, but better. It had been less than
fifteen minutes, but I was now able to kind of sit up, as long as there was a
wall to support me. I still felt like throwing up and would have but I didn’t
want to make a mess in the hallway. Hey, my social upbringing was paying off.
The uniform officers had sealed off the area. Doctor Karl Petrofski, the
medical examiner, showed up. Petrofski was an old man who had actually retired
a few years ago, but after two months of staying at home and becoming bored
with gardening he came back. No one complained. Even at almost seventy, he
hadn’t really slowed down any, and it certainly hadn’t dulled his senses. No
doubt about it, he was by far the best there was at what he did.
Petrofski entered the storeroom and kneeled over the body. It took him
almost two minutes to complete his initial examination, which included taking
the body temperature. He came out and looked at us. “Jeff, how are you doing?”
he asked.
“I’m fine, but Bud seems to be affected. Can you take a look at him? The
paramedics said it was laughing gas. But should it be affecting him this way?”
Petrofski bent over me and looked in my eyes. Then he opened my mouth.
“Yeah, he’s fine,” the doctor said. “It probably was the gas. It looks like
that’s what killed the boy. But the autopsy will tell us for sure. As for Bud,
take him outside for some fresh air and he should be okay.”
“How long has he been dead?” Jeff asked.
“Hard to say for sure, but it looks like less than two hours. Say, what are
you two doing here?”
Jeff chuckled. “We gave Naomi a lift because her car broke down.”
“Who’s Naomi?” Petrofski asked.
Jeff smiled sheepishly. “We’ve been dating for a few months. I think you met
her when I was working on an earlier case.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” Petrofski replied. “She’s a really nice girl. I
didn’t know she was a college student.”
“Who found the body?” a loud voice bellowed before Jeff could answer. We
turned to see Mike Hammond, Eddie Haskins, and Lieutenant Debra Dankton from
the detective division. Lieutenant Dankton was a petite woman who
believed in speaking softly and carrying a big stick. The fact that she held a
third-degree black belt in karate made it really easy, something that a lot of
people behind bars didn’t appreciate. Haskins was a tall, black man who had
majored in elementary education before he discovered his affection for children
was limited to his own two daughters. Still, he was a first-rate detective. As
for Hammond, with his large belly, he had a Santa Claus physique and a junkyard
dog personality. Many thought he had bullied his way onto the detective squad.
But they didn’t know about the four commendations he had won for bravery or how
his bulldog tenacity helped him solve cases. “Hey,” Hammond bellowed again.
“Who found the body?”
“Some woman,” Jeff said. “Bud and I were walking down the hall when we ran
into her. She screamed and we came to her aid. She told us about the body. We
checked it out; then we called 9-1-1.”
“Did you screw up the crime scene?” Hammond said with a snarl on his
face.
“Hey, give me a break. I know better,” Jeff answered. “Remember, I used to
be a cop.”
“You weren’t a cop; you were an MP.”
“Same thing.”
“Okay, both of you mind your manners,” Lieutenant Dankton said to Jeff and
Hammond. “What about Bud? He doesn’t look so hot.”
Hey, what could they expect; I was sick? Even though I was about to lose my
lunch, I still had the presence of mind not to upchuck in the hall.
Jeff decided to answer Lieutenant Dankton. “Bud went in with me, but I think
he got a whiff of the gas that killed the boy. It made him a bit shaky, but he
didn’t do anything to your crime scene.”
Dankton leaned down and patted my shoulder. “Hey, take care big guy.” She
nodded to Hammond and Haskins and they both went into the storeroom to a look
at the crime scene.
Jeff took a look at me. “Come on Bud, let’s get you outside for some fresh
air.” He helped me to my feet and kind of half carried me to the elevator. We
managed to stumble out of the building. All right, I stumbled, and Jeff helped
me out. We sat down on the grass next to the building. It had already turned
dark, but the grass was cool and soothing. Petrofski had been right; the fresh
air was helping. Even though it was early November, the temperature was mild. I
enjoyed the cool air on my face. It was surprisingly quiet, especially with
more than five thousand students attending classes in the evening at this
university. Off in the distance you could hear the traffic on the highway that
ran by the school.
Jeff sat down next to me and patted my back. “Take it easy big guy. You’ll
feel better in a few minutes.” He looked around. I was sure he was looking for
girls. Instead, we found Hammond.
“So here you are,” Hammond said with irritation in his voice. “I need to get
your statement.”
“There isn’t much to it,” Jeff answered. “We were walking down the hall when
this young lady came up to us and told us there was a body in that room. We
checked it out and then called 9-1-1.”
“Yeah right,” Hammond replied. “Just one problem. Where’s this girl?”
Jeff looked at me. Why I didn’t know. I certainly didn’t know where she took
off to. “I don’t know,” Jeff said as turned back to face Hammond. “When Bud and
I were checking out the body, she took off. She must have gotten spooked.”
“Yeah, right,” Hammond said with a sigh. “Can you describe her?”
When it comes to noticing pretty girls, Jeff is extremely observant,
especially when he gets to play the white knight. “She was young, but probably
in her late twenties. She was a bit older than most college students, so she
could have been a graduate student. She was about five feet six, slender, maybe
hundred and twenty pounds, had shoulder-length chestnut brown hair, soft as cat
fur, dark brown puppy dog eyes, soft full lips—”
“Hey Romeo,” Hammond snapped. “I need a description I can issue that won’t
get the department sued for sexual harassment. Did you notice anything unusual
about her?”
“You mean other than she’s the kind of woman you dream about being stranded
with on a desert island?”
Hammond sighed. “Just tell me what she was wearing.”
Jeff smiled. “She was wearing tight blue jeans, a red blouse, a brown jacket
and gold loop earrings. She also had a dark blue backpack.”
“Great,” Hammond scoffed, “this is about as useful as a rowboat in the
desert.” He walked over to me. I was still sitting on the grass. Hammond leaned
over. “Boy, Bud is as sick as dog. Still feeling queasy?” Hammond said with a
smirk.
If he hadn’t asked, I would have been fine. Instead, I threw up on his
shoes. Hammond jumped back cursing me. The problem was I really didn’t feel
sorry for what I had done.
*****
We stayed outside on the grass for quite a while, although we did move to a
new location. Jeff’s cell phone rang.
“Hello,” Jeff answered. He listened for a few seconds and then responded.
“Sure, we can meet you there in a few minutes.” Jeff put up his cell phone and
turned to me. “That was Naomi. It’s time for us to go and meet her.”
I was feeling better and able to walk without any assistance. I still felt a
bit queasy but was able to keep myself from throwing up again. We managed to
make it to Jeff’s car where Naomi was waiting.
“What took you so long?” Naomi queried. “I expected you guys to be waiting
in the cafeteria. What happened?”
“There was an incident,” Jeff said.
“What kind of incident?” Naomi said with a degree of anger in her voice.
Jeff smiled. “There was an incident in the science building. We came across
a dead body.”
“You what?” Naomi yelled. “A dead body! How did you find a dead body? Who
was it? Never mind, you were supposed to go to the cafeteria, gawk at the
pretty girls, eat junk food and wait for me! Instead, you go off and find a
dead body.”
“Relax,” Jeff said throwing up his hands to protect himself from Naomi’s
anger. “We were walking down the hall when this girl came up and told us about
some dead guy. What were we supposed to do?”
“Call the police and leave.”
“Now, Naomi. You know we can’t do that.”
“Yes, you can,” Naomi yelled. “You take out your cell phone and dial 9-1-1
and leave. You don’t have to get involved in murder cases.”
“Wait a minute,” Jeff said trying to calm Naomi down. I found it kind of
amusing to see Jeff, a five-foot, ten-inch, lean muscular individual having to
restrain a petite woman. When Naomi got riled, her shoulder-length dark
hair turned into a lion’s mane and her dark eyes burned with a fury that was
easy to see. “It was just a dead body,” Jeff said. “No one said it was murder.
It was probably some kid who overdosed on some drug.”
Naomi moved until she was face to face with Jeff. “It had better be.
Because if it is anything else… Remember, the last time you found a dead body,
you almost got me killed. I am not going to have people shooting at me again.
I’m not going to have people breaking into my apartment and trashing it again.
I want to grow old, join some old folks club, and complain about health care.
You are not going to get me involved in a murder case again. So quit looking
for dead bodies.”
“Actually, someone else found the body,” Jeff said with a foolish grin that
seemed to only infuriate Naomi.
“I don’t care who found the body,” Naomi yelled. “You are not supposed to
find dead bodies, and you are not going to get me involved in another murder.
Have I made myself clear?”
Jeff was losing this battle. “Bud and I checked it out and called the
police. That’s all we did. Honest.”
“Then what took you so long?” Naomi demanded.
“Oh, it was Bud,” Jeff answered.
Great, blame it on me. Here I am, still recovering from my brush with death.
All right, maybe I’m being a bit melodramatic. Still, it wasn’t my fault.
“When we checked out the body,” Jeff continued, “Bud got a whiff of the gas
that killed the boy and lost consciousness.”
“What?” Naomi exclaimed. She came over and gently took my head in her hands
so that she could look into my eyes. I have no idea of what she could see since
it was already dark and the lights in the parking lot did little more than
illuminate the key locks on the doors. “Bud, are you okay?”
“He’s fine,” Jeff answered. “It was just a little gas. We got some fresh air
and he’s as good as new.”
Naomi turned to Jeff. “Yeah, right. What did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” Jeff said. “Look this is what happened. Some young lady came down
the hall and told us about a dead body in this chemical storeroom. We checked
it out. Bud got a whiff of the gas and he went down. I dragged him out and
called the police. They took over the scene. We have nothing to do with the
case. We’re out of it. The closest we will get to this case is reading about it
in the newspaper. Now will you relax?”
Naomi gave Jeff one of those
you-had-better-be-right-or-I-am-going-to-smack-you-so-hard-your-grandkids-will-be-dizzy
looks. “Are you sure Bud’s okay? I don’t want to find out he’s been exposed to
some deadly chemical or biological agent and have him start some kind of
epidemic and kill everyone. Haven’t you seen the movie Outbreak with
Dustin Hoffman?”
While Naomi had a good point, I was sure I wouldn’t be the start of the
epidemic, not with seven or eight others who had also gone into the room. Also,
the body was down at the morgue and not in a contained area. Still, Naomi’s
paranoia wasn’t making me feel any better.
“Hey, what do you want me to do?” Jeff pleaded. “You want me to take Bud to
get checked out?”
“I want to make sure you two are finished with this case.”
“Scouts honor,” Jeff said holding up three fingers on his left hand and
crossing his heart with his right. That got me to wondering—was Jeff ever a
Boy Scout?
Zeid's Mysteries 