The Reveal: A Detectives Seagate and Miner Mystery (Book 6) by Mike Markel Page B

turned back to me. “Let me see how those records are coming.”
    I handed Ryan my cell. “Call the son for me.” He
punched it in, then handed me my phone. It went to voice mail. “Robert, this is
Detective Karen Seagate, Rawlings Police Department. I need you to call me
back.” I left the number and ended the call. “Shit.”
    Ryan said, “He might have a roommate.”
    Mary Dawson came back in and handed me a sheaf of
papers attached with a big paper clip. “I highlighted anything you might want
to look at.”
    I stood. “Mary, thanks very much. Sorry to have to
tell you about this.”
    She nodded slightly. “Maybe it was just a terrible
accident.”
    “Yeah, I hope so. That’s probably it.” Ryan and I
walked toward her office door. She followed us out. “We’ll get back to you if
we need anything else. Appreciate it.”
    Back outside the Administration Building, Ryan and
I sat down at a metal mesh table with four chairs bolted to the cement in a
little plaza. A few yards away, the sunlight reflected off a big hunk of scrap
metal that I think was supposed to be a sculpture. “How’re we gonna get to
Robert’s roommate?”
    Ryan was looking at his tablet. “Robert’s address
is on South Harson Street in Portland. That’s three
blocks from Reed College.” He looked up at me. “Want me to try to reach their
Mary Dawson, see if we can get a name and phone?”
    “Yeah, try it.”
    He pulled out his phone and called the dean of
students at Reed College. He told them who he was and what he wanted. “Great,”
he said, then paused. “I see.” He ended the call. “Yes, they can do that.”
    “But?”
    “But they won’t.”
    “Call Mary Dawson.” I held out my hand as he speed
dialed her and handed me his phone. “Mary, Karen Seagate. Sorry to bother you
again.” I explained that Reed College wouldn’t give us Robert Rinaldi’s
roommate’s contact information. She said she’d try, then get back to me. I
thanked her and ended the call.
    Ryan looked up from the stack of pages we had
gotten from Mary Dawson.
    I handed him his phone. “Anything?”
    He shrugged his shoulders. “Not yet. There’re
seventeen students. Mary gave us the unofficial transcripts from each one, plus
a sheet they call Action Points.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Seems to cover a bunch of things: previous
degrees, certificates, honors and awards.” He thumbed through the pages. “Okay,
here we go.” He held up the stack for me to see. There were a couple of yellow
highlighted portions on the page. “This student—Alan Schreiner—is on the Debate
Team, which won a regional championship.” He thumbed through a few more pages,
stopping at the highlights. “Rebecca Josephson is the Vice-President of the
Student Association.” He shuffled some more. “Martin Hunt received a formal
reprimand because his fraternity—Alpha Phi Sigma—was cited for underage
drinking. He’s the president.”
    “Underage drinking. I’m shocked.” I paused.
“Anything come of it?”
    “Give me a second.” Ryan read a little bit. “There
was a party. Some kind of rush event. A freshman who’d been to the party got in
a car accident later, broke his arm and cut up his face. He was cited for DWI.
His father wanted to punish the fraternity for its role in the accident.”
    “For his son going to a fraternity party, drinking
illegally, and driving drunk?”
    “I’m just reading what it says.” Ryan looked up at
me. “At first the fraternity denied having anything to do with it because they
had no way of knowing the freshman would drive. Then the national fraternity
got involved. They must’ve convinced the local chapter to roll over. So the
chapter apologized, said they would be more vigilant about checking IDs, et cetera . They attended some sort of
program put on by the university about underage drinking. And the chapter
president signed off on this reprimand letter.”
    “And the father went away happy?”
    “Not sure about