Luck was on my side, and when I knocked on the partially opened door marked with the deceased Dr. Kordestani’s name, a mumbled voice called, “Come in.”
Buckley Calloway, Navid’s TA, sat slumped at the doctor’s desk, cheek propped in an upturned hand as he gazed hazily at a laptop screen. A stack of papers sat beside him on the desk.
“Shouldn’t you be heading home for the holiday?” I asked when he didn’t turn his attention from the screen.
Sparing me a glance, Buckley’s expression slowly shifted from confusion to recognition. He sat upright, visibly shaking off his languor. “Detective.”
“Do you have a minute?”
“Um.” He glanced again at the computer. “Sure. Term papers,” he said, cleaning the mess on the desk and shutting off the laptop. “Dr. Kordestani’s replacement is in over his head and asked me to handle extra stuff until he’s settled. How can I help you?”
I remained on my feet, ignoring the offer when Buckley waved for me to sit. “I’ll make this quick. You seem to be one of the few people who were close to Dr. Kordestani. Did you spend time together off campus as friends?”
Buckley’s brows pinched, and he seemed to contemplate before answering. “We had coffee sometimes, but it was usually because he wanted to discuss something related to my position.”
“Were you familiar at all with the doctor’s routine or habits?”
“Meaning?”
“Was he a football fan? Did he like to drink? Hang out at bars? Smoke? Take drugs? Did he play pickleball on the weekends? Did he hang out with students? Attend parties? Sleep around?”
Buckley stared disconcertingly, his expression unreadable. Suspicious. “Why?”
“I’m trying to build a profile so we can find his killer. So far, you’re the only person who talks positively about him. I have two more victims who, for all intents and purposes, seem to be unrelated to Navid. I was hoping you’d help me make connections.”
“Jesse and Ford. I saw the news.”
I didn’t confirm or deny, waiting to see if Buckley might fill in the blanks.
He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I can’t think of how they might relate. So far as I’m concerned, the professor didn’t know them. They aren’t—weren’t—in the medical program.”
“Didyouknow them?”
Buckley shrugged. “Jesse had a reputation. Everybody knew Mr. Popular. Ford was one of his friends from a couple of years ago, I think. I sort of remember him. Jesse had a… following.”
“I hear he was a big partier.”
Buckley huffed. “Yeah, more like a big idiot.”
“Have you ever partied with him?”
“Fuck no. My girlfriend told me what he was like.”
“Who’s your girlfriend?”
“Why?”
“I’m curious.”
“Alyssa Malhony.”
It wasn’t a name I recognized.
“Buckley—”
“Please don’t call me that. Boss or Buck if you have to.”
I used neither. “Do you know if Navid Kordestani did drugs?”
