“Not mine personally, but I’m aware of it.” Laurent’s smile held, but fractures threatened its integrity.
“And yet nothing was done,” I observed. A statement, not a question.
Laurent shifted upright. Any pretense of a relaxed interview vanished. “It’s my understanding that Mr. Vargas was spoken to.”
I huffed. “Thank god for that. ‘Don’t peek up the girls’ skirts, Jesse. They don’t like it. Now go off and be a good little boy.’ In my experience, that would make him more cautious the next time he felt like getting his dick wet.”
Laurent St. Pierre flushed—with embarrassment or anger, I couldn’t be sure.
Sensing my partner’s ire, I let her take over before she kicked me out of the room and reported me to Golding. But I’d gotten what I wanted. I’d ruffled Laurent’s feathers. Flustered people lost the ability to filter their comments.
“Can you explain why the petition didn’t lead to Jesse’s expulsion?” Rue asked.
“I was not part of the discussion. It was out of my hands, but every student has the right to defend themselves. Jesse must have given a viable explanation.”
Rue waited. He hadn’t answered the question.
Laurent continued. “So far as I understand, the school requires proof or a police report before they can take further action. Otherwise, it’s circumstantial.”
“Blaze Freely made a police report,” Rue reminded him.
“I’m aware, and the board was looking into the matter when she withdrew the charge. Against the better judgment ofseveralfaculty members, the case was dropped. If we expel a student without legitimate claim and evidence, we could end up in court.”
“Are you one of the faculty who was against it?” I asked.
His nostrils flared. “I was.”
I indicated a nearby photograph. “Are those your daughters?” It depicted Laurent with his arms around two trim women with matching dark hair. One wore a graduation gown. I recognized the grounds as the same place I’d celebrated my graduation after getting my degree. It was on the University of Ottawa campus.
“They are. Abigail and Jenny. Abigail graduated last year.”
“Is your other daughter a student still?”
“Not here. Jenny transferred to Laurier when her sister left.”
“Why is that?”
“She didn’t say. It was something she insisted on doing.” A pronounced crease appeared in Laurent’s brow as he stared fixedly at the photograph. I had more questions, but Rue cut in.
“Jesse was caught dealing drugs on campus. Is that correct?”
Laurent cleared his throat and turned away from the framed picture. “He was. Campus security detained him. The police were called.”
“And you’re in charge of the committee that decided on his expulsion?” Rue asked, referencing a small notepad.
“I work for student affairs. I was in charge of forming the committee. Names are drawn to avoid prejudices.”
“Why wasn’t he automatically expelled?” I asked.
“It’s procedure. A charge isn’t a conviction, and convictions can take upwards of a year to happen with our court system as slow as it is.”
“Can you share who was on this committee?” Rue asked.
“Yes, but I can’t share how they voted. Votes are done anonymously.” Laurent plucked a printed piece of paper from a pile, sliding it across the desk.
I snagged the paper before Rue could pick it up and scanned the list. Ten names. Navid Kordestani was indeed part of the committee, but he wasn’t the only name I recognized.
“You were on this committee.” I glanced at Laurent.
