Last Year's Model

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2Monday morning. The first day of the summer session. His first ever college class.

Jesse had completed his morning run and was showering.

He’d almost never been in a real school. This was something he’d longed for, but it was still novel enough to make him a little nervous. It would be nothing like the pressure of his former job. But being home schooled, schooled on the fly actually, he wasn’t used to having to compete academically. And most of the students in his freshman classes would be ten years younger than he was.

He dried himself and began to dress. He pulled on briefs, a dark blue collarless tee, and baggy khaki shorts. Then he put on anklets and a pair of sneakers that looked better than the ones he’d run in that morning. They were very expensive, actually, or would have been if he’d had to pay for them. But he’d purposely dirtied them up a little so they wouldn’t stand out.

Two classes today, one that lasted most of the morning, the other taking up the afternoon. English and history. No reason why he shouldn’t start with things he’d probably enjoy.

Almost as an afterthought, he grabbed a cap from his dresser top and put it on. Being sure to lock his door, he went down the stairs and headed for campus, where he’d see what they had for breakfast at the Union’s cafeteria.

* * * *

That same Monday, Ray Stonesifer spent most of the day in his cubicle. Things were pretty quiet on the law enforcement front in Colby, so he was able to clear up paperwork and put in some time on the PC at his desk. He’d become the unofficial computer geek in the office, uploading and downloading information, doing stuff that his superiors didn’t want to do and that the other detective sergeants didn’t have the knowledge or skill to do.

Late that afternoon he needed to drop by the office of CSU Campus Security. He signed himself out, thinking that he’d go home after he’d run his errand.

Actually, he admitted to himself as he walked across campus, he could have faxed the material. But he was the person Captain Marlowe had appointed to liaise with the university’s police, so liaise he would.

Arnie Holmquist was the head of CSU’s Campus Security. His official title was Captain. He’d come to CSU from another university, but at some time in the past he’d been a cop, as he often reminded Ray. It was unclear whether his bristly manner was an inherent trait or whether he resented the fact that the Colby Police appointed a lowly sergeant as their liaison officer.

It was another beautiful day, and the campus, which had been deserted the week between commencement and this first day of summer classes, was once more dotted with students—strolling, biking, sitting—singly and in groups. Things seemed to move more slowly now, however: there was less bustle. And fewer clothes, he noted with pleasure. Most of those he encountered were in tees, shorts, and sandals, so he enjoyed the eye candy, especially the male part.

Except for a civilian secretary, there was no one in the Campus Security Office when Ray got there.

“Hi, Mrs. Spurlock,” Ray said. “Here’s the information the Captain wanted. Where’s everybody else this afternoon, out keeping the campus safe?”

She chuckled. “A couple of them are on vacation and one’s at a workshop in Columbus. The rest are out and about. Do you want me to check and let you know?”

“Oh, no. I was just making conversation. Say hello to the Captain for me.” He looked at his watch. “I think I’m off duty now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk with him?” she asked, grinning.

“No, that’s all right. I wouldn’t want to bother such a busy man.” Actually he suspected Holmquist was napping behind the closed door of his office. He said goodbye and left.

As he crossed the quadrangle in front of the library, he saw a familiar face, that of history professor Jake Handley.

“Hello, Jake. Are you teaching this summer?”

“Hi, Ray. Yep. I’ve got the duty the first term.”

“I was headed to The Cougar for a beer. Care to join me?”

“Sounds good. I’m parched. Just let me call Jim.” He pulled out his cell phone and spoke quietly in it for a moment, then put it back into his pocket.

“Jim says hello and that I can only have one beer since I’m driving home.”

Ray chuckled. “You’re kind of caught, aren’t you? Having a beer with a cop and going home to another one.”

“Yeah, but I usually have a drink with Jimmy when I get there.”

The Cougar, the favorite bar of CSU students and beloved by generations of alumni, wasn’t as crowded as it would be during the regular academic year. Perhaps students were at the book store or taking advantage of the sunny weather to start their summer tans, or who knew what.

At any rate, Jake and Ray got their beers and found themselves a booth. The walls of the establishment were covered with pictures of university teams and sports heroes along with banners, sports jerseys, lacrosse sticks, baseball bats, and other paraphernalia.

“What are you teaching this summer?” Ray asked the professor.

“Modern European History.”

“How does your class look?”

“It’s too soon to tell. But at least summer classes tend to be a bit smaller. Students often select this course to count toward the University’s core requirements for the BA, but this time there are only twenty instead of the usual forty-five.”

“That should make it easier to get to know them.”

“Indeed,” Jake said. “And there won’t be so many papers to read and exams to mark, either.” He lifted his glass, swallowed, and then set it down. Nodding at a booth across the room, he said, “I do believe there’s one of them now.”

A half-full glass of beer sat on the table of the student in question, but in front of him was a book, which he seemed to be reading intently.

“Looks promising. At least he’s a reader. What’s his name?”

“Before I answer that question,” Jake said with a hint of a smile, “you’re a detective. Why don’t you tell me what you can infer about him?”

“What? You mean like Sherlock Holmes?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, then, Dr. Watson, or I should say Dr. Handley, I’ll try to study the subject without attracting his attention.”

Jake leaned back and grinned.

The man, whom he could see only in side view, was wearing the usual tee and shorts, but he had on sneakers rather than the ubiquitous sandals or flip-flops. On his head was a gimme cap, bill pointing forward and slightly downward as he read. He had what Ray thought was an elegant profile. His shaggy brown hair covered his ears and touched the collar of his tee in the back. Something about him seemed familiar, but Ray couldn’t think why.

“He’s a little older than the typical undergraduate. What year is he?”

“I don’t know. The preliminary class rosters tell us only their names and student numbers. You need to remember though, Holmes, that we get students of all ages, especially in the summer sessions and in evening courses.”

Just then the subject looked their way briefly before directing his gaze back to his book. And then Ray recognized him. “Well,” he said, “Let me see.” He rubbed his chin. “I can tell you that he runs in the mornings and that he lives in Higgins.”

Jake seemed surprised. “How on earth do you know that?”

“Really, Watson, can’t you see the obvious clues?” Ray said, affecting a supercilious smile.

“What clues?”

Ray heaved a theatrical sigh. “Ah, Watson, it’s always this way with you isn’t it? You don’t notice even the most, um, elementary things.”

After thinking about that for a moment, Jake grinned. “You know him, don’t you?”

With a straight face, Ray said, “Depends on what you mean by know. But I’ve told you some things about him, so now why don’t you tell me his name?”

“I can’t remember. I didn’t memorize all those names this afternoon.”

“Well, so long as we’re being honest, I confess I exchanged words with him briefly a week or so ago. Brody Cox told me that the place where he used to live was for rent, and I went around to check it out. As I was going up the front walk, that guy came out. He told me that he had rented the place. Then he excused himself, saying he was going for a run.”

“Oh.” Jake seemed let down.

“Sorry to bust your bubble, Dr. Handley.”

“Well, now that we’ve cleared that up, what else would you say about him?”

“I think it’s your turn. What strikes you?”

Jake studied the guy, who was so immersed in his book he seemed unaware of the scrutiny. “First of all, he’s beautiful. Despite the unkempt hair and the designer stubble, he has wonderful features. Fine nose and mouth, with a certain delicacy to them. He has a sensitive look about him, and when he glanced over here a minute ago, there was something about his eyes…”

“What about them?”

“I’m not sure,” Jake admitted. “Not haunted exactly. But rather, well, vulnerable. Yes, that’s it. Vulnerable.”

“Careful, professor. It sounds like this guy’s going to become teacher’s pet.”

“I’ve had a number of fine-looking young men in my classes. I don’t think I’ve ever succumbed to partiality, though.”

“Well, he is good looking. After you’ve gotten to know him, how about telling me what you’ve learned?” Ray asked. “Nothing confidential of course, just basic stats.”

“Sounds as if you’re interested.”

“Not in the way you mean. I’m not so superficial I’d want to get involved with a guy just because of his looks.”

“That makes you a rather rare gay man, Sergeant,” Jake said, smiling.

“And we have no reason to think he’s gay, do we?”

Jake sighed. “One can only hope.”

“Wait a minute! What about the Chief?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I didn’t mean that I’m not totally happy with Jim. But I’d just like to think a guy that beautiful was one of us.”

“Beautiful? You’ve said that twice.”

“Don’t you think so?”

“I’d like to get him a shave and a haircut. Then we’d see what he really looks like.”

Jake grinned. “Spoken like a true cop.”

“What does it say on the cap he’s wearing? You can look without craning your neck.”

Jake looked, squinted, and said, “Huskies.”

“Mmm. Could mean something or nothing.”

“Yeah, you can get anything on a ball cap these days. But doesn’t the University of Washington call it’s athletic teams the Huskies?”

“Yeah, but so do UConn and Northern Illinois. What color is the lettering?”

“Black, I think.”

“Then it’s probably not Washington. Their color is purple, as I recall.”

“So, Sherlock, are you telling me my student’s from Illinois or Connecticut?”

“Not on the basis of the hat, Watson. It could be about a high school team or something to do with Canada or Alaska. Or a company, for that matter.”

“You know that in due course I’ll find out more about him.”

“The poor guy. I’m sure he doesn’t realize we’ve become interested in him.”

“Purely as an academic matter, of course.”

“Well, to satisfy my curiosity, please let me know what you find out.”

The older man’s eyes twinkled behind his eyeglasses. “I can’t help thinking that your interest isn’t exactly Holmesian.”

* * * *

Not long after Ray arrived at his desk the next morning the phone rang.

“Stonesifer.”

“Morning, sergeant. This is Stasny. Captain would like to see you when you have a minute.”

“Thanks, Staz. I’ll grab a cup of coffee and be right there.”

“Why don’t you wait until you get here? My coffee’s better than the stuff out in the squad room. I’ll tell the boss you’re on your way.”

Philip Marlowe had been promoted to the rank of captain and made head of the plain clothes branch soon after the new chief took office. Ray had always liked and respected the man. It was typical that the summons to report to him came as a request when he had a minute. Ray took his orders from Lt. Havers, and it was unusual to be called into the Captain’s office. At least it was unusual enough that Ray wondered if he’d screwed up.