“Mind if we ask you a few more questions?” the other guy asks.
“No, I don’t mind.” I wish it were just me and Gage, but like I said, this seems super official.
I watch as Gage nods to the other guy. Since the other guy is the one talking, I assume that means Gage is giving him the lead. Yay.
“Are you related to a Dr. D. Buchanan?”
I look at Gage, asking him with my eyes,What the hell?Then I turn to the other cop. “Yeah. He’s my father.”
My father who’s dead to me.
“Did you know Kara Becker was taking classes with your father?”
Shaking my head, I respond, “Lotsof people take my father’s classes.” And the reason is because his classes are easy. Who doesn’t love to get an easy A in their college English classes? It’s one of the reasons they wouldn’t give him tenure.
Well, until they did.
“So, he’s popular?”
Where are they going with this?“Look.” I lean forward. “People love my dad’s classes because he’s an easy A.”
The two officers turn to look at each other, then back at me. “So….” The other cop sounds hesitant. “Everyone ends up with an A in his classes?”
“Well, noteveryone. You have to turn things in. But the majority get As and Bs.”
The men look at each other again, like they’re trying to communicate without words.
Gage asks this time, “Is this something you’ve seen firsthand or just heard?”
“Well, obviously I don’t do his grades for him.” He wanted me to, but I refused. How lazy can one man be? “That’s the rumor around campus.” I blow out a big gust of air and lean back. “So, why are you asking about my father?”
“No reason.” Gage shrugs. “We’re just trying to get to know more about our vic.”
“Vic?”
“Victim.”
“Ah.”
The two men stand simultaneously, like it was choreographed, but my eyes are on Gage. I do the same and follow them to my front door.
“Thank you, Miss Buchanan.” Gage again.
“No problem.”
Shutting the door behind them, I turn and lean my back against it. “What was that about?” Do they think my dad knows something about Kara’s murder?
There’s no way….
It’s not possible. My father’s way too self-absorbed to know or care about what’s going on with his students.
Stepping into my living room, I can’t decide what to do next. I know I need to shower, but Dad took all of my toiletries. The memories of last night rush back, and I’m overcome with anger again. I curl my hands into tight fists.
Taking in calming breaths, I relax my hands and decide on a plan of action. Picking up my purse, I shove my phone inside and grab my keys, I leave my apartment and jog down the steps to my car.
Well, to where IthoughtI left my car.
And then I realize. “That motherfucker.” He took my car!
