Drago #6: And the City Burned. Art Spinella
“The view from up here is great. We’re trying to get an idea of how something could have been done.” The obvious vagueness didn’t seem to bother Mrs. Dornan. She walked onto the board porch and led us around the side of the house to the rear yard. Well kept, neat grass and trimmed back wild blackberries. A small patch of flowers in a well-turned garden was being watered with a lawn sprayer set on low.
Behind the yard, the roof of the police department, visible through a stand of scrub trees. The slope was pretty steep.
To the north, Old Town looked like a scene from an elaborate train set; buildings in redwood and clapboard with the Welcome to Old Town Bandon arch greeting visitors to the historic district. But the heat of the day was already building. Dry air, unlike the usual humidity that comes with being on the coast, forecasting another near-100 degrees.
Having seen enough, “Well, thank you. You have a lovely place here.”
“Come back anytime, Nick.”
Sal and I returned to the Vic, climbed in.
“Whatcha thinkin’ Kemosabe?”
“Nothing good, I’m afraid.” Starting the Police Interceptor V8, the exhaust grumbled from the Vic’s sidepipes. The harsh sun already heating the steering wheel to an almost uncomfortable temperature.
We returned to Tenth, made a quick right onto 101 and a left on Ninth. Pulling up to the high school, we took the broad walkway into the building. Low and wide, Bandon High hadn’t changed much since Sal and I attended. Glass front, big lobby, administrative offices straight across from the doorways, also behind glass. A pair of spacious hallways – one heading left, the other straight ahead – led to classrooms.
The walls were covered in trophy cases, class photos, pictures of past administrators. The usual high school decor.
The woman behind the Administration counter cocked her head, glanced at me then Sal. “Mr. Rand?” She was a few years older than Sal or me, hair cut short, blond with a streak of gray matching gray eyes.
Sal returned the smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I recognized you from the football photos in the trophy case.” Totally ignoring me, “My sister had a huge crush on you.”
Sal’s ears didn’t turn red. His cheeks didn’t blush. Why should they? ALL high school girls had a crush on Sal back then.
I leaned on the counter, “Uh, I played football, too. Quarterback, ya know.”
The woman twisted her eyes toward me, “Mister Drako.”
“Drago. With a ‘g’.”
Her eyes returned to Sal, “What can I do for you?”
I’d lost the battle and let Sal continue the conversation.
“We’re looking for Timothy Dornan. Can you call him to the office for us? It’s police business.”
“Oh, my, I hope he’s not in trouble.”
“No. We just need to talk to him.”
She flashed Sal a huge grin, patted his hand and returned to her desk. A few seconds later she returned. “I buzzed his homeroom and asked Mr. Martin to send him.” Twirling a strand of hair, “Is there anything else I can assist you with… Sal?”
I sighed. The big teddy bear had done it again. Another slavish female with googly eyes for Salvador.
“No thanks, …”
“MaryBeth.”
“MaryBeth. I think I’m set, thanks.”
We returned to the lobby to wait for Timothy.
“What is it with you and women? I’m bigger, prettier, thinner, funnier. They look at me like I’m lint on a blue suit.”
“You don’t talk to them with your eyes, Nick. Someday I’ll teach you how to do it.”
“I could rip that grin right off your fuzzy face.”
“And what? Set the entire female population of Bandon on a vengeful course of destroying you?” He snuffed. “I don’t think so.”
The clattering squeak of running shoes on waxed linoleum telegraphed the arrival of Dornan.
“Hi! You looking for Tim?”
“You’re not him?” I asked.
“No. I’m Peter Braul. Rhymes with school.” He said it in a single breath. Once a joke, probably. “Tim’s not here today. Mister Williams said I should tell you that.”
“Where’d he go? He was on his way here this morning.”
Braul, rhymes with school, looked over his shoulder. “I saw him in the parking lot this morning. He flashed a wad of money and said he was taking Dorothy to Eugene for the day to spend it.”
“Dorothy is…”
“Girlfriend. Dorothy Flack. Rhymes with stack, if you get my meaning.”
“And Tim has a car?”
“Well, a mini-pickup, actually. Ranger.”
“So he doesn’t walk to school?”
That made Braul laugh. “Nah. Tim hates to walk. He drives everywhere. Even up to the DQ which is, what, two blocks away?”
Sal asked, “And Dorothy has been dating Tim for how long?”
“Since forever.”
“Did you see him yesterday?” I asked.
“Almost every day. We hang a lot.”
“Did he have the money then?”
“Didn’t act like it. Never mentioned it.”
“Did he give you any clue he was going to Eugene today?”
“Nope. In fact, we planned on skipping last period and going to Langlois for hot dogs. His mom expects him home right after school, so we have to go during last period in order to be home right after last bell.”
“What color is the Ranger?”
“Well, mostly brown, but it has a blue left front fender.”
“How much money you think he had?”
“At least a couple hundred.”
“Big bills? Little bills?”
“Twenties, it looked like. Fresh out of the magic money machine.”
Sal, scratching his beard, his way of assembling thoughts or questions, “So he doesn’t have a job. He’s a good old fashioned C student. Isn’t on a sports team and is smarter than the average bear but school bores him to death.”
Braul laughed. “Gee, you sound like Sherlock Holmes. How’d you guess that stuff?”
“Is my friend right?”
“Down the line.”
Sal nodded.
Sal’s like that. The three-dimension puzzle solver. Give him a fact or two and he’ll provide a dead-on analysis. That’s what makes us so suited for working together. I can fit random pieces of a puzzle together. Two dimensions. Sal has trouble with that kind of tidbit gathering.
“Thanks Peter.”
“Call me Pete.”
“Rhymes with feet.” The kid looked at me like I’d just stepped in dog doo. I waved him away and he took off down the hall.
Sal and I settled back into the Crown Vic. I called Forte and filled him in on our conversation with Braul and the fact Dornan was MIA.
Forte mulled that for a second. “Think he made the bomb?”