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An Education in Fear

By C E Blohm

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Chapter One


The car came out of nowhere, a dark mass of hurtling steel with its engine screaming and headlights extinguished. Emilie Parker stood in the middle of the street, paralyzed with terror at the sight of the vehicle bearing down on her and Paul Riordan, her brother, who she had been talking to for the last few minutes. The car fishtailed then straightened, gaining momentum as the unseen driver steered toward them. Emilie’s eyes widened as her brain froze up, unable to make a decision that would save her life.

With a powerful shove, Paul knocked her out of the car’s path. An electric jolt of pain knifed through her left shoulder when she hit the pavement. As the force of the shove rolled her toward the curb, she heard metal scraping metal, and then the sickening thud of the car smashing into a body. Oh, no...Paul! She lifted her head and shook the hair out of her eyes just in time to see the car speeding away into the darkness. The plate! Try to read the license plate! But the car was too far away, tires screeching as it rounded the corner and disappeared. The next thing she heard was a groan of pain.

“Paul!” she cried, crawling to where he lay crumpled on the ground. His right leg was grotesquely twisted and blood poured from a nasty gash on his forehead, but he was still breathing. “Hang on, Paul, hang on! I’m calling for help. You’re going to be okay.” She yanked her cell phone from her pocket and punched 911. It took just a few seconds for the dispatcher to answer.
“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“A man’s been injured in a hit-and-run,” Emilie said, trying to keep her voice as calm as she could. “We need an ambulance, quick. We’re...we’re at 424 Maple Avenue, just across from the Middleton University campus. Please, hurry!” She tossed the phone aside and cradled Paul’s head on her lap. “Help’s on the way. Don’t give up on me. You’re going to make it.”

Paul’s eyes fluttered open. “Emilie...” His voice was weak, his brow furrowed in pain and determination.

“No, don’t talk, Paul. Save your strength. The ambulance will be here in a minute.”

He shook his head, the pain of the motion reflected in his eyes. “I need to tell you... David... evidence... in the car.” His eyes closed again as his breathing became shallow, irregular. In the distance Emilie heard the wailing of sirens. “Come on, Paul, stay with me. They’re almost here. Hang in there just a few more minutes.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she held Paul closer. He remained motionless, his chest no longer rising and falling.
“Dear God, no!”

*****

Cade Logan had just put the finishing touches on his presentation for a police conference later in the week when a burst of static jerked his attention from the computer screen to the scanner on the shelf behind his desk. Recognizing the voice of Sharon Vitale, the county sheriff’s dispatcher, he turned up the volume as the message came through the speaker.

“All units. We have 911 call. Hit-and-run with injuries, at least one victim. Location four-two-four Maple. Respond Code Three. Ambulance is on the way.”
A few moments later, another voice replied.

“Unit Four responding. Code Three.”

Cade jumped from his chair and grabbed the radio microphone from the unit on his desk. Only one patrol officer, Russell Walker, was on duty tonight. Cade punched the button. “Rusty, you there? What’s your twenty?”
The answer came back from the speaker. “Yeah, Chief. I’m cruising along the north side of campus.”

“Okay, listen. I just heard a dispatch from county. Get over to the Maple Avenue houses. Address 424. It’s a hit-and-run. I’ll meet you there.”

“10-4, boss, on my way.”

Cade replaced the microphone, then burst out the door and raced to the patrol car parked just outside the Campus Police Department office. In the almost five years that Cade had been Middleton University’s chief of police, he had dealt with all sorts of typical college student stupidity: fist fights, drunken frat brawls, and a lot of petty theft and auto vandalism. The one thing that got to him more than any of the other senseless actions was the way the kids drove around campus and on the surrounding streets, which were considered part of the campus and thus under Cade’s jurisdiction. Alcohol abuse had become a serious problem on the Middleton campus, and he couldn’t count the number of DUI arrests his officers had made just in the past year alone. There had been a slew of minor fender-benders, but nothing serious until now. Now someone had been injured on campus –– his campus, and he struggled to keep his anger in check in order to deal with this incident with the professionalism that came with his office.

With his patrol car’s tires squealing, Cade pulled out of the space, hit the lights and siren and headed for the accident scene. Forming the eastern perimeter of the Middleton campus, Maple Avenue was a quiet, tree-shaded street typical of those found in many small college towns. Most of the houses in the 400 block were owned by the university and served as residences for visiting professors, temporary guest lecturers, and international exchange students. That was what concerned Cade most: the accident victim could be a student or a member of the faculty.

It took Cade less than a minute to reach the scene. Pulsing red and white lights from an ambulance washed over the darkened houses on either side of Maple Avenue. Parked behind the ambulance, angled to block the street, was a Rockland County Sheriff’s cruiser, and behind it sat Rusty’s University Police SUV. A small group of onlookers had gathered on the sidewalk, murmuring among themselves. Cade parked his cruiser behind the SUV and got out. At the curb sat a dark blue Ford Explorer, its passenger doors scraped and the side mirror hanging by a wire. Two EMTs worked on a male victim lying on the street next to the damaged Explorer. They were performing CPR, one medic doing chest compressions while the other forced air into the victim’s lungs with an ambu bag. As Cade approached the scene, Rusty walked up to him. A tall bear of a man with a ruddy complexion, Rusty carried a clipboard under his arm.

“Hey, boss,” he said, reaching for his radio unit to turn down the volume on the speaker clipped to his collar. “No ID on the victim yet, but he’s not in real good shape. Thought I’d best keep out of the EMTs way while they do their thing.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Nope. I canvassed that group over there,” Rusty said, nodding toward a small knot of people standing across the street. “None of them saw or heard anything, but apparently there was someone with the guy when the car hit.” He pointed toward the opposite curb. “That’s her over there. Doesn’t appear to be hurt, but I think she’s pretty shaken up.”

Cade looked over to see a young, attractive blond woman sitting on the curb, talking to a deputy sheriff. Something about her struck a chord of familiarity in Cade’s mind. Did he know her? She looked young enough to be a student, but she was probably someone on the faculty he had seen around campus. “Rusty, check the scene for skid marks, broken glass, you know the drill. Be sure to take some photos of the damage on the victim’s Explorer.”

“Right, boss.” He pulled his flashlight from its holder and walked down the street, sweeping the beam over the pavement. Cade walked over to the curb where the woman sat. Her face was streaked with tears, but she appeared to be holding up, at least for now.

“Miss, I’m Cade Logan, chief of campus police. Are you injured at all?”

She shook her head. “No. I... my shoulder got a little banged up when I fell, but I’m okay.”

“Uh, Chief, I’ve already ascertained that she’s uninjured,” the deputy said in his most official-sounding voice. Cade thought he knew all the men in the sheriff’s department, but this deputy was obviously new and as green as a blade of spring grass.

“Thanks, Deputy--” Cade looked at the young man’s name plate. “Deputy Larrimer. I’ll take over from here.”

“Uh, Sheriff Conlin told me to--”

“Son,” Cade reassured him, “don’t worry about Sam, I’ll talk to him. Fact is, Maple Avenue is legally part of the Middleton campus, so it’s in my department’s jurisdiction.”

“Well, okay, sir,” the deputy said, his face showing disappointment. He tore a page out of a small notebook and handed it to Cade. “I started to take some notes. I, uh, I guess I’ll report back to Sheriff Conlin.”

“Good work, Deputy,” Cade said as the young man turned toward his car. “Wait a minute, Deputy Larrimer,” Cade called after him. “Maybe you can help my officer over there. His name is Rusty and he’s looking for evidence. Why don’t you give him a hand?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll do that.” The young man beamed as he headed off down the street.
Cade glanced at the name the deputy had written on the note paper, then walked toward the woman. “You’re Emilie Parker, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Cade Logan, chief of the university police. Do you teach here?”

She nodded “Art History. It’s my first semester here at Middleton.”

“Sorry for such a dreadful introduction to our campus,” Cade said. “We’re usually a very safe institution.” The young professor rubbed her left shoulder and wincing with pain every few seconds. He knelt down beside her. “You sure you’re all right? I can have the EMTs take a look at that arm.”

“No, really, I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.” She looked over to where the medics were still working over the lifeless form on the ground. “Can they do anything for him?”

“I’m sure they’re doing all they can for...”

“Paul. His name is Paul Riordan.”

The name didn’t ring a bell. “Does he teach here, too?”

“No. Paul is my brother.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Does he live around here?”

She shook her head. “No, Paul lives in Chicago. This is the first time I’ve seen him in almost a year, I guess. We’ve been kind of... estranged for a while. That’s why I was surprised when I got an e-mail from him this afternoon. He said he had to see me right away.”

“See you about what?”

Before Emilie could reply, a flurry of activity by the EMTs across the street caught her attention. “Please, could you find out what’s going on?”

“Sure, stay right here,” Cade said as he hurried toward the medics. A few minutes later he returned to where Emilie sat. As he approached she stood, still a bit unsteady from the accident. “Well, they were able to revive him, but his injuries are pretty serious. They’re taking him over to County General Hospital.”

“Thank God,” Emilie said, closing her eyes. “I’ve got to go there, I need to be with him.” She started to step off the curb, losing her balance in the process. Cade caught her before she could tumble to the ground.

“Whoa, there, just a minute.” He held her tight, feeling her body tremble. “I’ll take you to the hospital, but it’ll be straight to the emergency room to let them look you over, okay? Then we’ll check on your brother.”

Emilie nodded. “Okay.”

As they walked to the cruiser, Cade watched the paramedics rolling a stretcher carrying Paul Riordan toward the open doors of the waiting ambulance. He opened the door of his cruiser and eased Emilie into the front passenger seat. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and closed the door. He started the engine and waited for the ambulance to close its doors and pull out for the hospital.
“You said your brother wanted to see you about something?”

Emilie turned to him. “Paul said he had something important to tell me about my husband David.” She paused and let out a sigh. “David and Paul were cops –– partners, actually. David was killed in the line of duty about two years ago.”

Emilie’s eyes welled in anguish as she spoke of her husband. “I’m very sorry,” Cade said. The sentiment was inadequate to say the least, but it was all he could think of at the moment.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Paul’s e-mail said he had discovered something about David’s death.”

“Was he able to tell you what it was?”

“We were standing in the street talking... I know, stupid thing to do, but there was no traffic, and... well, anyway, he started to tell me. He was acting all nervous, looking around. Then this car came barreling around the corner. It happened so fast, before he could say any more.” She lowered her head for a moment, then looked up at Cade. “Paul was trying to say something. Something about... evidence. He said he had evidence.”

Cade thought for a moment. A cop uses the word evidence in connection with a crime. Could this be more than a simple hit-and-run? “Did he say what kind of evidence he had?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

“Did Paul or your husband have any enemies you’re aware of?”

“Enemies? They were cops. What cop doesn’t make an enemy or two?” Emilie shot a look at Cade. “Do you think this wasn’t an accident? Somebody ran Paul down on purpose?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the wail of the ambulance’s siren as it sped off. Cade put his cruiser into gear and followed, wondering what this beautiful young professor sitting next to him had gotten herself into.

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