Page 60 of Love Always

“And who is that?”

“We can’t divulge. We just have a client who attends here and with whom we have a contract. We’re just making sure that our client’s best interests and safety come first. That’s all we’re insuring.”

We left him slurping tepid coffee and shuffling papers and on our way out the door, when his office phone rang, he actually jumped a little.

I walk Nic out to the parking lot so we can debrief. Though he’s leaving to relieve Bryce, I’m going to stay and do a few more interviews. When we reach his car, he turns to me.

“What do you think?” Nic pockets phone, journal, and pen all in one move.

“Cruz had all the appropriate responses, some were delayed by just a fraction of a second. That piece where he talks about Colleen’s background? Clearly rehearsed. Micro expressions point to anger when he saw the photo.”

“Good work.” Nic looks genuinely pleased. “Great catch there on the last one. I saw that too and wanted corroboration.” He pats the top of the car and then dives into the driver’s side. The guy moves so gracefully. It’s hard to imagine him in the trenches anywhere. Suddenly he smiles, and those Navy blue eyes look impish. “Bryce is losing his mind, isn’t he? He’s been stuck at that hospital for sixteen hours.”

I nod. “You going to relieve him?”

“It’s good to keep him on his toes as our new partner.” He adjusts the rearview mirror.

“One more thing,” I say as the engine engages. “That whole bit about having to look up Laurel’s name. Lie.”

“Didn’t catch that one. You sure?”

“He’s trying to get into her pants.”

Suddenly the genial quality of his face disappears and there’s a hardness there that is almost brutal. “What?”

“He’s harassing her with texts and in-classroom pressure to go out with him.”

“She told you that?”

I nod. “She showed me the texts. She thinks he’s some older guy who doesn’t ‘really realize’ what he’s saying.”

“But you see it differently.”

Absolutely. “The guy’s a predator. Believe me, to anyone else the text would be explicit.”

“Why doesn’t she report it?”

“Laurel likes to believe the best in people.”

Nic stares straight ahead. “I learned long ago not to give people the benefit of the doubt.” Then he glances at me. “That can be dangerous.”

΅

After checking in with campus security, I wrap up some interviews with cafeteria staff and arrange to meet with some of Chris Proctor’s other professors. It’s unclear if he will continue school or if his parents will pull him out for now.

It’s just after one and I’m back in the car, ready to head north, when my phone buzzes. I skim Chris's toxicology report which his parents have forwarded to both Detective Jack and me as per Finn’s directions. Fentanyl was identified as well as heroin. Fentanyl is what killed my sister. I don’t get a moment to mull anything over because, at the same time, Finn texts. The Proctors have already lawyered up in case their son is charged with Colleen’s murder. It’s strange, then, that I don’t anticipate the next phone call coming ten minutes later when I’m back on the freeway—highway—causeway. Whatever.

Turning on both Bluetooth and speakerphone makes the caller’s voice even more deadpan.

“This is Archie Proctor.”

I maneuver into the fast lane. I have noticed that drivers here in the east actually use the fast lane to pass. It’s refreshing. “Nic Silvano is with your son. Are you trying to get a hold of Bryce Tucker? He’s off duty.”

“That’s not why I’m calling.”

There’s some whispering in the background, an admonishment maybe from Peggy Proctor?

“I need to be frank.”