Rue glared over her meal, and I bit the inside of my cheek, cursing the unfiltered comment. Personal commentary had no place at work.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “Should have filtered that part out.”
“Yes, you should have. I don’t want to hear it again.”
Rue plucked a piece of salmon from her bowl and popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly. She knew the black and white version of my backstory, but I’d never colored in the picture, so the finer details of my past remained a mystery. I suspected she knew more than she let on.
Rue set her chopsticks aside. “We should chat with the ex-wife. I can set something up for tomorrow morning if she’s agreeable. If anyone is going to give us dirt, it’s her. The divorce is still relatively fresh. Two years isn’t that long, and Allard implied the woman showed up at the hospital from time to time.”
“Maybe Navid wouldn’t leave her alone, and she offed him.”
“Ah, but there is a flaw in your thinking. She’s a woman, and we of the fairer sex are apparently incapable of subduing big, strong men.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. You’re a pain in my ass.”
A rare smile touched the corners of my partner’s lips. I chuckled and kicked her under the table. “I admit,youcould subdue any man who wasn’t expecting an attack.”
“I could subdue you even if you saw me coming.”
“Eat your lunch, brat.”
We finished our meal and headed out.
Our meeting with Navid’scolleagues at the university didn’t garner new information. Faculty only confirmed the doctor was an asshole whom no one liked. He was harsh with students and graded on a steep curve. He rarely gave extensions, set impossible standards, and had no problem humiliating pupils in front of the entire class when they didn’t know an answer.
The doctor taught some sort of biochemistry course to second- and third-year students. Its syllabus far exceeded the scope of my understanding. After spending half the afternoon chatting with a handful of professors from the department and a few students, we discovered the name of Navid’s TA—Buckley Calloway—and tracked him down.
“He’s really dead?”
Buckley—who informed us he preferred the nickname Boss—was twenty-three and carried a few extra pounds of attitude on his short, stalky frame. He went into full-fledged asshole jock mode the second he found out we were cops, posturing and puffing out his chest in what seemed a weak attempt at intimidation.
I suspected Buckley had played sports in high school but had become the victim of frat parties and too much freedom at university. His days of pumping weights with his buddies had been replaced with alcohol and lethargy. His distaste for authority suggested he’d had a few run-ins with the cops, too. I made a mental note to look him up when we got back to thestation. I’d been that kid once upon a time and suspected I might find some minor infractions on his record.
“Dr. Kordestani was discovered yesterday morning along the Rideau River Trail,” Rue explained. “Someone strangled him.”
My partner’s recount of the crime must have hit a nerve. Buckley kicked the edge of a desk and swore. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s fucking bullshit. Who would do that to him? Oh my god. Nav was a great guy. This can’t be real.” He tore his fingers through cropped auburn hair and spun in place like a trapped animal seeking escape. We’d tracked him down in a study section of the library, and the press of computer stations surrounding us made it hard for Buckley to pace far.
My partner’s brows rose as we exchanged glances.
“Great guy?” I queried. “You seem to be the only person who thinks so.”
I propped my hands on my hips, purposefully flaring my jacket and displaying my shoulder holster. The point was not to intimidate but to bring Buckley’s temper down and remind him he was dealing with authority.
It didn’t work.
“What are you talking about?”
I ignored Buckley’s questions and asked my own. “Did you get along with Dr. Kordestani?”
“Of course I did. He was my mentor. God, he’s about the only teacher worth his salt around here. I have to do an ER rotation next year, and he was going to pull strings and get me into the university hospital. The plan was for me to work under him. Fuck. Man, this sucks. I can’t believe he’s dead.”
“Were you ever his student?” I asked.
“Last year.”
“How’d you do in his class?”
“Why?”
