Read Shadow Tag (The Ray Schiller Series - Book 2) for Free Online Page B

graduation. Mark my words, somebody will snap him up real quick.” Her smile returned, broader than before. “Bright as a two hundred watt bulb, that boy.”
    Ray took another quick sip. “So why’d he quit?”
    “The way that man killed himself like that... It was a terrible thing. Just terrible. Todd took it real bad.”
    “Why’s that? Did he know Mr. Davis personally?”
    She gave Ray an indulgent smile. “Detective, Mr. Davis didn’t associate with folks like us. People like him… Well, they figure they’re better than most.” She put her hand on her ample chest. “Mind you, that goes for some other folks, too, but his kind especially.”
    “Then, why did your grandson take his death so hard? Has he talked with you about what happened that night?”
    “I asked, but Todd’s like his daddy was; he keeps his feelings to himself. Sad thing is, Todd wasn’t even supposed to work that night. Didn’t want to neither—had finals coming up the next day.” She plumped up the striped accent pillow beside her, flattening it again as she laid her arm across it. “Someone took sick, and Todd had to fill in.”
    “I see. So did Todd share anything with you about that night?”
    “Just that the man’s death bothered him real bad—that he felt responsible.”
    Ray jumped on it. “Responsible how?”
    “Don’t go taking that wrong; that’s just the way he is. He loads lotsa stuff on his shoulders—things he shouldn’t. My grandson’s a good boy.” Her face glowed as she told them, “Got himself a scholarship, you know. U of M—Twin Cities. An academic scholarship, not one of them athletic things. Not that he ain’t athletic, mind you, but he’s smart as a whip besides.”
    At the sound of a noisy muffler, she straightened up to look out the front window. A green, rusty Corsica was slowing to a crawl on the street in front of the house. “There’s Todd now,” she said.
    Waverly got up and moved to the window to look for himself. The Corsica pulled up well behind their car, idling several feet from the curb. A moment later, Gaines revved the engine and drove away.
    Mrs. Gaines stood and watched the Corsica take a quick right at the end of the block. “Where in the world is he going?”
    “Wish I knew,” Waverly said in disgust.
    “My stars.” She looked at them with an unspoken apology written in the lines of her face. “I don’t know where he’s gone off to. If he knew you were waiting to see him, he’d have come in.”
    Openly sarcastic, Waverly grumbled, “Of course he would.”
    “Want me to have him call you when he gets back?”
    His annoyance evident, Waverly replied, “Yes, you do that.”
    She saw them out, offering a feeble smile. “I’m sorry about Todd driving off that way, makin’ you wait for nothin.”
    “We really need to speak with your grandson, Mrs. Gaines,” Ray said. “See what you can do, will you?”
    “I’ll do that.”
    Turning before the door closed behind them, Ray said, “We appreciate your help, and that lemonade really hit the spot. Thanks very much.”
    As they got back in their car, Waverly slammed his door. “That damn kid’s as slippery as a greased banana peel.”
    “Maybe he’s got good reason. Does he have a record?” Ray asked.
    “He’s clean; we checked. I’d sure as hell like to know why he keeps giving me the slip.”
    “That makes two of us.”
     

 
     
     
     
    6
     
    As Ray and Waverly left Todd Gaines’s home, Ed Costales was leaning back in his chair in the president’s office of ACC, the leather cradling his body. His face was reflected in the gleaming surface of his desk, a desk he’d personally selected for effect—impressive and larger by half than the one left behind by Chet Stockton. Everything about the office exuded a feeling of authority, power, and success.
    Although not textbook handsome, Costales’s body, at five foot-nine, made up for what it lacked in stature with a sturdy build. Detractors called him