Page 33 of The Murder Between Us
“The same caliber that was used to shoot and kill Kyle and Shelly Carter.”
“And, after Kyle and Shelly were killed, Professor Pflueger moved away. He quit his job in the middle of the semester and moved to Washington State.”
Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “What did he do there?”
“Taught at a community college. He set up in the center of the Green River Killer’s old hunting grounds. His library and Amazon accounts show he has a fascination with Gary Ridgway. He’s read every book published on the man.”
Cole nodded. “Tell me more about Pflueger.”
“He was popular. He was liked by over 90percent of his students. He had high satisfaction ratings in online surveys. His classes were regularly wait-listed. There were allegations he slept with some of his students, though. Freshmen and sophomores who took his intro classes. Some of them were barely over eighteen, but there’s no evidence he was ever involved with minors. There were complaints from parents, but the college’s attitude was that it was all consenting adults and private business.”
“Were the students in his class when he slept with them?”
“He’d wait until after they were through with his class, according to what we uncovered. He was careful to follow the letter of the college’s rules: no professor may sleep with a current student. Current as in, enrolled in their class.”
Cole snorted. “Here’s to the hairsplitters.” Noah grimaced. One day, Katie would grow up. One day. But, Jesus, he needed to talk to her, start preparing her for the world. His heart raced, and he forced her out of his mind, at least for the moment. He couldn’t think about his daughter in the middle of this case.
He cleared his throat. “I think he quit because there was a major sexual assault case coming for him. The parents of a freshman were getting ready to sue. They alleged he slept with their daughter after her fall semester. They say that tutoring sessions he offered her were seductions and that as soon as her final grade was in, Dr. Pflueger contacted her and invited her to his house to celebrate. They say he gave their underage daughter alcohol, so much that she passed out. She claims she remembers coming to three times that night, each time in a different sexual situation with Dr. Pflueger, none of which she consented to. She woke up at his house the next morning with no memory of what had happened. Her nightmares, she said, filled in the gaps. By the time she told her parents, there was no hope of recovering forensic evidence.”
“A she-said, he-said.” Cole frowned. “Was there anything to support her story? Text messages? Emails?”
“There was enough to show Dr. Pflueger crossed major boundaries. His defense was that she crossed those boundaries with him willingly and he was trying not to break a young woman’s heart.”
Cole snorted.
“He quit, and the parents settled with the college for an undisclosed sum. The daughter transferred out.”
“And Dr. Pflueger? Where is he now?”
“That’s the thing. He moved back to Des Moines six months ago.”
Cole stared at Noah.
“He’s taking care of his mother. She has dementia. His father died while he was living in Washington.”
“Let me guess: he didn’t come back for his dad’s funeral, did he?”
“No.”
“Go on.”
“He moved in with his mother, in the house he was raised in, in the suburbs north of Des Moines.”
“Near Iowa State?”
“Within spitting distance. The campus shadows his bedroom. He’s not working right now. He hasn’t found a job in Des Moines, or applied for one as far as we can tell. We think he’s living off his mother’s Social Security. He stays at her house and takes care of her. Trash is piling up in the side yard. There have been neighbor complaints of screaming late at night.”
“Screaming?”
“Officers have responded both times. They say they walked through the house. Just him and his mother, who was not well when they visited. One time, she was screaming about being held hostage, but the officers said she wasn’t lucid enough to take a complaint from. She didn’t know where she was or who she was. I interviewed the officer who responded. He said he felt sorry for the mom, and for Dr. Pflueger.”
“Well, he’s a piece of work. Sexual indiscretions galore, meticulous attention to detail to avoid repercussions, signs of broken familial relationships. No contact with his father but devotion to his mother. However, if he’s seducing—or raping—his students, why would he strangle but not sexually assault these girls?”
“Look, if I could have arrested either of these men, I would have.” Noah tossed his pen on his notepad. “Neither of them is a perfect fit. This killer is a ghost. This was as close as I ever got.”
“I understand. I do.” Cole seemed to almost reach for Noah but grabbed Dr. Pflueger’s folder instead. “The killer is a shadow. He’s hidden. He strikes and disappears. He’s spent his whole life being invisible and unseen. He’s practiced at not being caught. That’s not your fault. And, cut yourself a little slack. A majority of FBI agents never go head to head with a serial killer. Homicide isn’t the FBI’s main beat.”
Noah vibrated. The overhead lights cast the shadow of Cole’s hand in triplicate. He wanted to touch Cole, but—
