17. Grant Remembers

Kathy jumped. “What dagger?”

He gave her a knowing look. “The Stormonts are related to the Wades, so I’ve actually seen the famous Stormont dagger and I’ve always been interested in history. It’s an odd combination, computer science and the Middle Ages, but you know a lot of science fiction borrows heavily from traditions and stories of that era. There’s nothing new under the sun, and we can learn a lot from studying how things were done in the past.”

Kathy was fascinated to see the corporate mask slip again as he spoke about personal interests. Should she return to Shaye? He had chosen to mention the dagger.

“It must be hard for you,” she said carefully. “Having feelings for Shaye and then losing her to,” she stopped, lost for words. “I mean, having a kind of connection to the ...”

He gave a little snort. “A connection to the instrument of her destruction?” He looked over to his computer screen, then back to Kathy. No mask, just an open face and a level gaze.

“I know a lot about the dagger that killed her,” he said simply. “It’s the only positive thing about the tragedy. If she had to die, at least it was a noble death. The dagger is part of history, and now so is she. She’s part of its history, one of a long line of memorable women to whom the dagger brought happiness or pain.”

It was an odd comment and Kathy filed it away to think about later. She finished her list of prepared questions, he answered them easily and she found herself agreeing with his colleagues. Grant Ashbury was a nice guy. A little nerdy perhaps, carrying a torch for a girl who had no interest in him and harboring strange ideas about magical daggers, but a nice guy.

    “One more thing. How well did you know Catrina Somers? I know you were at school together, I’ve talked with Dr. Rivers about the group project.”

At the mention of her name his eyes flashed, before he could lower them. He picked up the pen again but she saw the tightening of the jaw, a narrowing of the eyes. When he looked up, the expressionless mask was in place. Is this just something he does when he was thinking? Kathy wondered. To navigate company politics, he might have learned to hide his true thoughts and emotions.

“Catrina Somers, wow, I haven’t heard that name for a long time. Yes, I was part of that group, and as I recall it turned into a big mess. Catrina was supposed to hand in our paper, but the professor claimed she hadn’t. It was our final paper copy and none of us had the complete version, there wasn’t a backup.”

He frowned, remembering. Kathy waited. “After Catrina died, Everett, the group leader, checked in with Rivers to make sure he’d received our paper.” He gave another little snort. “Everett was the type to think of that even after a friend was murdered, and she was the right one to do it because Rivers was more lenient with the girls, more agreeable. He wore his hair just a little too long, even had highlights put in, which cracked the guys up.”

Kathy shifted impatiently. Just get on with it.

“He told Everett Catrina hadn’t turned in the paper, so we had to really hustle and write up another final version using our notes. We put our bits and pieces together. We knew it wouldn’t be as polished, but we did our best, and then the bastard was going to ding us for late marks, which would have been incredibly unfair.” He was sounding like an indignant young student.

“We went as a group to argue that Catrina was about to hand it in when she was killed, it wasn’t our fault it was late, so why should we be punished?” He stopped suddenly and looked sheepish. “Rivers agreed and gave us back the late marks he’d deducted, so everything was okay, I mean, it was fair.”

He must have known he sounded insensitive, but he held her gaze and Kathy was the first to look away. She left shortly after, Ashbury inviting her to call any time.

Back in her car she mulled things over. There was no evidence the murdered women had known each other, but they had two things in common, Channel Lane Point and Grant Ashbury.