Anyway, Special Agent Magone wanted me to call him back as soon as possible to confirm that I was available tomorrow at 10:45 am for a one-hour meeting. An hour? Jeez, how many questions was he planning to ask in a damn hour? And would all the students on that train be questioned for an hour, or only the ones with a background like mine?
One dumb, impulsive move left me with a record for life, and I’ve worked hard to scrub the slate clean again. But cops like to narrow their search down to the people that are red-flagged in their database, while the real perps are getting away.
My gaze landed on my bike helmet perched on my drawers, feeling the urge to go for a ride along the narrow dirt trails that wind through the hills. But instead of running from this problem, I decided to call the detective back to get it over with. I couldn’t run from it forever; they’d always catch up with me somehow.
But first, I grabbed Sickle’s number to let him know. “Yep,” he answered on the third ring. I could hear the clanging of metal against metal and friendly shouting, clearly at the gym.
“Is Ez with ya?” I cut to the chase.
“Er,” paused, probably to look around. “Yeah, I just spotted him chatting to Robbie. Why? What’s up?”
“I got a call from the cops. They want to interview me about the body on the train, so I’m just touching base with you,” I explained, suppressing my anxiety about it. I needed advice from an older and wiser brother who knew my history.
“Just,” he lowered his voice, “keep your mouth about Ez.”
“Yeah, that’s a given, but what about my record?” I pressed. He must know that I’d never utter a word about Ez’s situation.
“Say nothing unless they bring it up,” he stated clearly.
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s better to be straight up with them from the start, after all, it’s a serious crime they’re investigating,” I challenged him.
“Nah,” he grunted. “They’ll figure it out anyway. Not just your record, but your connection to us. The cops might be suspicious of you, but they’re gonna be ten times worse with us, just because we’re Warwicks, bro. So, whatever happens, we’ve got your back. Remember that.”
“Yeah, okay,” I exhaled, and swiped off, feeling the burden weigh heavily on my shoulders.
Taking a couple of deep breaths first, I then returned Agent Magone’s call as my head spun with five hundred scenarios of how this could play out. When it clicked over to voicemail, I exhaled again, then left a quick message saying that 10.45 AM tomorrow was good.
Classes start tomorrow, so I’ll have to miss the morning one and ask someone for notes…maybe the Boleyn girl, since apparently, we share that class. I grabbed my helmet because I needed some fresh air and an urge for freedom, thenpaused when the leatherbound book I took out of the library was underneath it—Ashthorn: Myths and Legends by Arthur Coster.
I flipped over a few pages, but wasn’t in the mood to study it, so I chucked it on my bed and stood to leave. As my hand rested on the doorknob, I groaned. I’d almost forgotten my keycard again. Jeez, I’d have to beg Adina Boleyn to let me in again. Thinking of the look on her face as she pretended to be disapproving of my forgetfulness, yet she was totally faking it.
I heard a door slam shut as I left my room, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. The only other student on this floor was Adina, and I wondered if she had come back home to find a snake in her bed.
As I reached her door for the second time in twenty minutes, I listened for any sound, but her room felt empty. Something didn't sit right. Maybe I was on edge after the cops contacted me, but the plan was that Morgana would mostly be empty, yet I had a feeling someone was there who shouldn’t be.
The sun streamed through the window at the end of the hall, and it only made me want to go outside into nature. As I walked down the hall toward the kitchen and common room, I smelled the distinctive scent of beef-flavored two-minute noodles. The perfect food for poor students when the dining hall wasn’t serving, or if they didn’t qualify.
When I poked my head into the kitchen, a bowl of steaming noodles was resting on the table, but there was no one around. Curiously, I stepped into the kitchen to take a proper look around, but the room was definitely empty. They would’ve just taken it out of the microwave oven and scarpered.
I hovered about in the kitchen for a minute before I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and waited to see who appeared. It was the Wolsey girl on the third floor, who turnedto look at me when she passed the kitchen as she headed to the front door.
“Is this yours?” I called after her.
She paused and glanced back, appearing confused, then swallowed nervously. “What?”
“The bowl of noodles. Are they yours?” I clarified, but she shook her head, eager to leave. I had a way with women. They either wanted to distance themselves from me because I was unhinged and unpredictable, or they flirted with me to get close to the Warwicks.
“You’re Lev Ashthorn, aren’t you?” I don’t know why she felt the need, as she already knew who I was, or maybe she was trying to make conversation with me.
“No such person,” I lied, stepping toward her. “Ashthorn is merely an illusion.”
Fear flickered across her face as she fidgeted with her keycard, trying to escape my menacing gaze. I smirked smugly when she hurried away and looked back, hoping I wouldn’t follow. It felt incredibly satisfying to scare female students into running off. Another job well done.
The Wolsey girl was friends with Adina, so maybe she’ll run and tell her what a horrible person I am, and I won’t argue with her. I never claimed to be nice.
She was walking in the direction of the dining hall and glanced back, slightly nervously, to see if I was on her tail. Why would I? I had no interest in that music nerd, but she might come in handy to use as a muse.
Instead, I turned right and walked down the narrow alley between Morgana and the residence hall next to my building, where I parked the Suzuki. I checked her over, climbed on, started her up, and she ran smoothly. After putting on my helmet, I rode off down the road past the residence halls toward the gardens where the crime scene was.
