“Wild,” Ian says, with a blank academic smile. “Wish I had siblings. Only child. Parents were scientists, so I guess the experiment ended with me.”
I smirk, and then redo my blonde hair into my clip. “Did it work?”
“Jury’s out,” he says, and we both make a show of laughing.
I let my eyes drift over the main floor again. I notice a flash of dark hair and a familiar olive-green sweater, and my pulse kicks up a notch.
Molly.
She’s seated at the far end of the room, hunched over her phone. I watch her lips move, animated, eyes darting around like she’s making sure no one is listening. Her free hand twists at a notebook, shredding the edge into confetti.
I angle my body so Ian can’t see what I’m watching. He’s still talking, now about the idiocy of the English department’s copy policies. I pretend to care, but my ears are tuned to the frequency of Molly’s voice.
Molly speaks into her phone, her tone full of annoyance. “I can’t do it tonight. Dad’s got this weird schedule…” She pauses. “No, I’m not allowed to stay unless he’s there, he freaked out about last time. It’s so stupid, he’s never home anyway, why the hell does it matter if I’m there?”
My heart pounds in my chest, and I flex my fingers under the table, trying to work out the nerves in a way that isn’t obvious.
But maybe it is. Maybe that’s what Calvin Bradford is picking up on.
Molly’s eyes land on me for a split second. She blinks, then looks away, finishing her call with a huff and a roll of her eyes. I shift in the chair, giving Ian my attention again.
“So, what do you think?” Ian asks, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to respond to.
“About…?”
He laughs, a little embarrassed. “Sorry. I’m rambling. I meant about the new admin policy—allowing faculty to work remotely if the weather’s bad. Do you think anyone will actually use it?”
I shrug, my mind a thousand miles away. “Probably not. People here seem to thrive on suffering.”
He grins. “True. But hey, it’s not all bad. The winters make the summers feel like heaven.”
“Oh, I could see that.” I smile, then check my watch and make a show of surprise. “Crap, I have a meeting with a student in fifteen. I lost track of time. Mind if we?—?”
Ian stands immediately, polite to a fault. “No, no, go. Thanks for the company.”
I sling my bag over my shoulder and weave through the tables, but instead of heading back to the office, I duck into the corridor by the vending machines, close enough to catch Molly as she grabs her own coat and heads out. She doesn’t see me,but I watch as she slips into a corner, punches at her phone, and then storms out into the wet afternoon.
I take a breath and follow at a distance, bracing myself against the icy wind as I step outside—and then stop myself. There’s no point in following her. So, I stand beneath the awning and check my phone, while I mentally replay the fragments of Molly’s call.
If Calvin doesn’t let Molly stay at the house unless he’s there…
And if his work emergencies keep him out late…
Then there will be a window the house is vacant.
And information potentially up for grabs.
Chapter 13
Bradford
“Told you it was bad.”
Turner’s voice is distant as I stand in the entryway of the pedophile’s Ridgecrest house, my normal scowl instantly deepening at the stark scent of death.
My eyes flick to the nice family portraits lining the walls, immaculate leather furniture around an ornate fireplace in the living room, and really, I guess in that way… Everything looks fine.
Well, except for the two corpses collapsed at odd angles under the entertainment center, their blood pooling on the faux fur of an area rug.
