Girl With a Past by Sherri Leigh James Page A

an
hour.
    I pushed the speed dial for my dad.
    “Al, goddamn, I told you to get rid of that
phone.”
    “Huh, yeah, before I got a chance to do
that,” I paused, “someone shot at me.”
    I heard his intake of breath. “What?” Dad
said.
    “I spoke with Detective Schmidt, you know
the detective from the house––“
    “I know Detective Schmidt,” Dad said in his
no nonsense tone.
    “He said I have to show the Berkeley PD
where the shots were fired. Steven's driving us back to
campus.”
    An exasperated, heaving sigh greeted this
news.
    “Dad?”
    “As soon as you’ve done that, you and Steven
are to go directly to your grandfather’s. Do you understand
me?”
    “I do, I do understand, but Dad, I want to
help Detective Schmidt find Mom.”
    “Let me speak to your brother.”
    “Dad,” I continued, “you have to tell me
what you know about this. I found the letter.”
    “The letter?”
    “The one that threatens your wife and
children if you––”
    “Al!” Dad shouted. “We are NOT, not going to
have this conversation over a cell phone.”
    “Fine, then you can just talk to the
detective about it. He’s on his way to see you.” I punched end just
as Steven pulled the car up in front of Kroeber hall.
    My brother grabbed my arm as I opened the
door. “You really were shot at?” He looked freaked, his face paled
beneath his tan.
    “Yes, I told you.” I shook my head and
rolled my eyes.
    Two police cars were at the curb, four
officers and two campus security guards stood in a circle.
    I told them everything I knew. A notch out
of a tree trunk inches above the height of my head clued the
location of the bullet in the flowerbed three feet beyond the tree.
A second bullet was dug out of the dirt less than a foot away from
the first. Trajectory had all the officers looking at the second
floor windows across the street.
    After I promised to come to the station the
next day to sign a statement, I climbed back into my brother’s
jeep.
    “Where to now?” Steven failed to suppress a
nervous grin. “I’m guessing not Grandpa’s.”
    “I’ve been trying to reach,” I took a
breath, “Aunt Carol. She’s not answering, thought she might know
what Mom had planned for the day.” I sat in the front seat of
Steven’s jeep hugging my knees, wondering what we could do
next.
    I dialed Detective Schmidt who snapped that
he would certainly let me know if our mother were located and
joined our father in demanding we await his call in a safe location
such as our grandfather’s estate. I didn’t relay his orders to
Steven.
    “Well, we can’t stay parked in this red zone
forever. Your cop friends might lose patience eventually.” Steven
raised both eyebrows in my direction. “So?”
    “Let’s try Carol’s studio.”
    Steven pulled away from the curb with less
urgency this time. “You know what this is about?” he asked.
    “Either the trial Dad’s prosecuting . . . or
the Zodiac. Maybe there’s a connection.”
    “What’s Dad prosecuting?” Steven asked.
    I shrugged. “Did he tell you anything about
that case? Even when I work in his office over summer break, he’s
very secretive until after the verdict. He never tells me anything
about his cases.”
    Steven shook his head. “Me neither.” He
changed lanes. “Why do you think this could have anything to do
with the Zodiac?”
    I explained about the file and yesterday’s
events.
    “You read Dad’s file on the Zodiac?” Steven
asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “Any mention of anyone else Dad knows in
that file?”
    “All Dad’s college friends. Carol, Mom, Dad,
Dave, Ron, Suzy, Tom, Elliott, and Jamie were all interviewed in
connection with his friend Alexandra’s murder.”
    “Who knew you were looking for the
file?”
    “Dad, Dad’s new secretary . . .”
    “Nobody else?”
    I thought back to the previous afternoon.
“Dad was on the phone as I was leaving, he had me say good-bye to
an uncle.”
    “Which one?”
    I shook my head. “I