My head was spinning from the kiss with Lev, the razor blades, and sweet Mila bearing the brunt of it, the potential date with James, the kiss, the kiss, the kiss with Lev. Oh god, that kiss. My lips still tingled and swelled, and I automatically checked my skin's heat, hoping I wasn’t turning red like a beetroot, which would be a clear sign I had been up to no good.
It’s finally my turn to order a coffee, and I am pleased to see Jess's friendly face serving, so I asked, “Have the police been here today?”
“Earlier,” she replied, “they’ve taken over a spare classroom in the Business School and are running their investigation from there now.”
“So, what’s happened to the body?” I wondered, since it’s been over a week and we’re in the middle of nowhere, and I was sure the family would want their daughter or son back.
“Not sure,” she replied as she rang up the cost, took my money, and I stepped aside for the next person in line.
22
Agent Magone, a slim, very tall man with auburn, thinning hairI introduced himself and beckoned me to sit opposite him in the classroom on the second floor of the Business School. A second officer sat beside him, and a recorder was resting on the table.
“Right, Lev Ashthorn…” he frowned, “I am told you are the great-grandson of-”
“You missed a great, and yes, I am. And I’m not rich. My mom and I inherited nothing,” I blurted to get it out of the way. Every time a stranger discovered my surname, it was the same boringassumptions. But I’d rather we focus on that subject than bring attention to my record if they knew about it.
“Really?” he cocked his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe me. After all, I was attending an exclusive college that required a small mortgage and a hedge fund to apply.
I nodded slowly, waiting for him to cut to the chase, but I was familiar with this style of interviewing where they butter you up by pretending to be your best mate so you’ll relax and open up.
“So…what are you studying, Lev?” he asked in a friendly tone, proving my hunch right.
“Ah, a few different subjects,” I replied vaguely as he opened the folder on the table and I realized it had my name on it.
“Like what?” he pressed, still holding his tone.
“Like…ah, mostly engineering, but I take one business subject,” I replied honestly. “Have you identified who died?”
I assumed they had because you can’t board the train to Castlehill without being registered and ticked off, but my impatience urged me to get to the point of why I was called in.
Ignoring my question, Magone asked, “And you’re working toward a degree in engineering?”
“Yep,” I grunted.
“Four years, is it?” he persisted.
I nodded, clamping up and folding my arms across my chest. He shifted in his seat, knowing that it was a bad sign that I was shutting down, but he continued pretending to jot notes down in my file.
“And you’re on your second year, sophomore?”
“Yep,” I grunted as the second officer watched me closely, so I became aware of my body language.
“What do you want to do with the degree once you’ve achieved it?” Magone inquired, faking curiosity as he wasn’t interested at all. This was his style of interview.
I shrugged my shoulders. “Not sure yet.”
The auburn-haired detective shuffled in his seat again, and his entire vibe shifted, so I knew he was ready to ask the real questions. “Okay, Lev, so we’re going to start from the beginning,” he signaled to the officer next to him, who then switched on the recorder. “For the recorder, please tell me your name and date of birth.”
I swallowed, “Lev Ashthorn. Born November tenth, two thousand and five.”
“And that makes you how old?” Magone asked.
“Nineteen. Twenty soon,” I replied.
“Alright. Good. Now, did you board the nine-thirty train coming to Castlehill University on Thursday 31stof July?” he said smoothly, glancing up after he asked the question to watch me answer it.
“Yes,” I mumbled.
