“I think that’s a great take on the prompt. You’re a deeply empathetic young woman. Hang on to that quality.”Or maybe don’t? Because then you might end up chasing your sibling to the end of the earth, trying to find them.
“Thank you,” she holds my gaze, and then as she opens her mouth to say more, there’s a knock on my office. “I should get going,” Molly jumps to her feet before I can protest.
Damnit.We were getting somewhere.
Molly opens my office door to reveal Ian, who has two cups of coffee in his hands, and then turns back to me. “Thank you for listening. I needed that.”
“Any time,” I say, but she’s already gone, and in steps Ian.
“Got this for ya.” He sets the coffee down on my desk, and I have to bite back my irritation. I havenofreaking interest in being this man’s friend.
“Thank you.”
“A bunch of us are getting together Friday for drinks. You wanna go?”
“Ah,” I pick up the coffee, taking a sip. “So, this coffee is really a bribe.” My voice comes out flat and unenthused, but Ian doesn’t seem to notice. Maybe he’s just the disinhibited type.
“It’s totally a bribe.” He takes a seat across from me, crossing one leg over the other. He’s the epitome of a stereotypical lit professor, and I have no idea why the fuck he’s become so friendly with me. “You also look like you need a night out, Jenna. No offense.”
“None taken,” I ignore the bitter taste of the coffee, that doesnothave enough creamer in it. “I probably could use a night out, but…”
“But I think you’re trying to come up with excuses,” he taps the side of his temple, wiggling his brows. “But you should really just say yes.”
Inwardly, I grimace. “I’ll think about it.” I don’t want to appear to be avoiding going out with coworkers, but also… I’mjustthe interim professor. I’m not planning to be here forever.
I would go crazy, if I did.
And also, I feel like the clock is running out to find my brother.
Chapter 17
Bradford
“Mr. Bradford,”Chief Wilkerson grunts, as he steps into his office, his beady eyes already fully of suspicion. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just came to check on something.”To see how fucked I am.
“Figured so.” He drops a file on the table, and then lowers into his seat, nodding for me to take the chair opposite of him. I don’t take it, choosing to mull at the back of the room. My eyes jump to the picture of the chief and his family, and I frown.
We don’t have a lot in common. He’s got a solid ten years on me. He grew up here. I grew up in Texas. I took a career with the Marines, he served four in the Army.
But he knew my grandparents. And heknowsa little of what I do now.
“I shouldn’t be sharing this with you,” Wilkerson starts with the same line he always does.
I smile, but only with my mouth. “You know I support local law enforcement.”
He lets out some incoherent noise and doesn’t look at me. He opens the folder. The first page is a color photo of the smoking ruins of the house out in Ridgecrest. I let my eyes go blank. I don’t want to give away how much it still pisses me off.
He slides the photo over. “We had the fire inspector from a couple counties over come up for this one. Unusual burn patterns. You know what that means?”
I shrug. “I got a few ideas.”
Wilkerson eyes me, his dark brown irises riddled with a fatigue I relate to. “You’ve been a little messy around here lately on local jobs. Now, I know?—”
“I’m in a bit of a predicament,” I cut him off, hating the obvious being pointed out. “I’ll sort it out.”
Wilkerson lets out a sigh, and then reaches into his top desk drawer, retrieving another folder. My eyes follow it as he keeps it closer to his chest, opening it only far enough for him to pull out another photo.
