Witness to Death Read Online Free PDF Page B

discipline his students.”
He took another pull of the scotch, this time finishing the glass. He got up, took a few leisurely steps toward the bar, and poured another.
“Anyway, I assume you want my help. But how?”
“With all the people you know, you can’t call someone? Find out what’s going on. Maybe we can track him down. I’m sure there’s a mistake.”
Robert Sandler smiled. “I’ll make some phone calls. Have you heard from him?”
“No. I tried calling him, but he won’t answer his phone. He called me earlier in the evening, but that was just after dinner. He seemed fine. Maybe you can see if there’s anything the police haven’t let out to the press now.”
“I don’t know sweetheart, I can try. I know some police officers, some state cops, but most of my work deals with people outside the country.”
Michelle took a deep breath and smelled the leather of her father’s chair. She remembered being a kid and sitting on the chair while her dad flipped through the newspaper. She would listen to him read the articles aloud and wonder if he was reading them for her benefit. She now thought he just liked to hear his own voice.
“Have they said anything else?”
Michelle shook her head. “Just that five people are dead from the shooting. Where would John even get a gun?”
“Could he have someone with him?”
Michelle hugged herself, rubbing her upper arms as if she were cold. Her father had to have the heat turned up to at least seventy-five, however.
“Ashley broke up with him tonight. He said he just wanted to be alone. I wouldn’t expect him to be with anyone.”
“Ashley, broke—” He took a long sip of scotch. “I hope that doesn’t affect her work. Why would he be in Jersey City, then?”
“I don’t know, dad. I was hoping you could help.”
Robert Sandler held up his hands, palms out, as if he were surrendering. “Okay. Okay. Before I do though, are you all right?”
Michelle nodded. “Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I’m just worried, and I can’t get in touch with anyone.”
Her father said, “You always were brave. Everything’s going to be okay.”
He left the room. Michelle stood there looking around the library. It felt empty. The files and binders were her father’s work. That had changed since she was a child, when books, classics, always surrounded her.
When did it all change? When her mother left?
Michelle closed her eyes and tried to remember. High school graduation, taking pictures in her cap and gown in front of all the books. Packing for college that summer, just down the Parkway at Rutgers, but moving away nonetheless. The books were still there. She even took a few with her, to impress all the other scholars. All the scholars who didn’t care when she showed the books off, but cared a whole lot more when she broke out the bottle of scotch she’d packed.
No, the books disappeared about when she graduated college five years later. When her mom had finished moving to an apartment in Mawah. After that, her father barely hugged her. Dived into his work. Didn’t care about her own teaching job. The one she got without any of his help, without any of his contacts. Just through her own diligence, her own resume, her own portfolio. And a damn good demonstration lesson on Longfellow.
The books were gone. And after that, so was a part of her father. Which was why her face flushed when he left the room. He wanted to help.
Part of his soul still remained.
Robert Sandler came back into the room—his glass full again—shaking his head.
“No one knows anything. I called four different cops. Jersey City police are all going crazy trying to find this guy. Weehawken cops. He got to Manhattan via the ferry, and he might disappear there, for all I know. I let them know to call me back. Hopefully we’ll hear something soon. Why don’t you stay here until then?”
“No. I’m fine. I’m going to go home.”
“I’d really feel better if you stayed. Just tonight. You have your cell