“Thanks.” I want to look back at Shane but don’t because the next presenter’s ready to start.
The next two presentations pass quickly and are mostly a blur. People are restless and distracted by their phones, which is rude. I leave mine in my tote bag.
“Jesus,” Daniel murmurs, glancing surreptitiously at his. “Well, that explains why he’s not here.”
“What?” I whisper.
“Todd was in a bad car accident last night. He’s in a coma. They airlifted him to a trauma center in Boston this morning.”
“Oh, my God,” I murmur, my body going stiff with shock. “Alone in the car?”
“I guess.”
“Drinking?”
Daniel shrugs.
The last presentation is over, and Smith-Hall dismisses us. I stay in my seat for a moment because a couple of guys turn around to talk to Daniel about Todd.
“Heard it was a single-car accident,” one says. “Hit a tree. There’s some speculation that maybe he did it on purpose.”
“No way,” Daniel says. “Must’ve hit a patch of ice or something.”
Rising from my seat, I say, “I have to get going. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Yeah, me too.” Daniel stands and motions for me to precede him down the main aisle. “Let’s get together to finalize the project. Hopefully Todd will be back in commission soon, but we may have to finish without him.”
I nod as we walk. “We should do it soon. Sometime tomorrow maybe. I’m leaving town before break officially starts.”
“Home to Boston?”
“No, Colorado.”
“Whereabouts?”
“Aspen. Declan Heyworth’s family and mine are friends. The Heyworths have a house there.”
“Of course. And here’s Moran again, huh?” Daniel frowns as he eyes Shane waiting near the doors. “There’s a guy who wouldn’t hesitate to disconnect Todd’s ventilator if he got the chance.”
A prickling sensation runs through me. Of course neither Shane nor I will be visiting Todd in the hospital since we can’t stand the smug bastard, but we wouldn’t wish a coma-inducing car crash on anyone.
Daniel walks out the doors just before me and keeps going without looking back.
“Todd Bardoratch was in a car accident last night,” I say.
“Is that right?” Shane’s brows rise, but his interest is fleeting. As he holds the main door open for me, he says, “So the presentation, you were right about there being no middle ground. You killed it. Want me to take you to breakfast to celebrate?”
That draws a small smile from me, and I nod.
* * *
SHANE
When we returnfrom breakfast and a trip to Student Health, Sorensen’s on my front porch. I can guess what he wants to talk about. I sent some texts to get him off campus, but because it was a last minute move, I left him hanging in Boston on his own with no explanation. He and I will need to have our conversation out of Avery’s earshot.
I park the car in the garage.
When she gets out of the Porsche, she spots the empty gas can that’s still lying on its side on the floor. “Shane, is that from the other night? The one the arsonist dropped?”
