Joyce didn’t say anything until they exited the library. Then, as they waited under a shady overhang, she said, “He must really like you.”
“What?” Kit said intelligently.
“Holden.” Joyce hugged herself. “He’s usually kind of cold. Notmean. He’s just not super friendly.”
Kit wasn’t sure how to reply. He couldn’t imagine—no, hecouldimagine Holden as cold. There were flashes of that, now that Kit thought about it. Little glimpses of steel beneath the fluffy surface. Just gone so quickly, they seemed like mirages.
Before he could decide what to make of Joyce’s words, Bishop’s car pulled up.
“That’s him,” Kit said, and led the way to the car.
Bishop got out to greet them, holding out a hand for Joyce to shake. Kit hung back as they talked, distracted from thoughts of Holden by how strange it was to see Bishop like this. Bishop barely looked at Kit, seemingly totally focused on Joyce. He was soft-spoken, professional. He had such an approachable, nonthreatening air.
Like he was a completely different person from the man who had handcuffed Kit, let James duct tape Kit’s mouth, and held Kit captive for days.
No. Bishop was the same person. Because through all of that, Bishop had been concerned for Kit’s wellbeing.
The same as now, Bishop had been fulfilling his self-assigned calling.
Kit slid into the backseat when Joyce took the front—she was going to direct Bishop to her apartment. Which gave Kit the opportunity to text Holden as Bishop drove.
Kit:why did you have the keycard to the meeting room?
Holden:ohhh so you noticed that?
Holden:i grabbed it as soon as you agreed to meet me at the library
Holden:so we’d have somewhere to make out ;)
Kit ducked his head, certain his face was burning. He was incredibly aware of Bishop sitting mere feet away.
Kit:why bother??? you had no problem kissing me between the shelves??
The next reply was a little slow, each second ticking through Kit’s heart.
Holden:hmmm. would i scare you off if i said i wanted to do more than just kiss you?
“You can park there,” Joyce said from the front seat, and Bishop pulled into a parking space outside a small apartment building.
Kit dashed off a final reply to Holden—wtf you are the WORST at studying—then followed Bishop and Joyce out of the car.
Time to find out what secret Joyce needed to share.
“Thanks for agreeing to talk with me,” Bishop said, setting his notepad and pen on the table. “If you’re done at any point, or you just need a minute, let me know and we can take a break.” He had a recorder in his briefcase on the floor, turned off, and an app on his phone, currently recording. Not that he could use the information for anything important—it just beat taking notes.
Bishop wasn’t as tech-savvy as James, but he was happy to take advantage of tools that made his life easier. Like the tracking coin Kit still carried on his person.
“Thanks.” Joyce sat in the seat across from Bishop. Her eyes were red, but she looked calm. Not as intimidated as Bishop expected, though she kept looking over at Kit, as if for reassurance.
Kit sat between them at Joyce’s small kitchen table. The apartment was the basic student housing type, with relentlessly beige walls and a kitchen barely big enough for the table they sat at now. Broken-down cardboard boxes were shoved behind the couch in the next room, and Bishop didn’t see any of the decorations he would have expected based on her charm-laden cellphone.
Too tidy for a very recent move, but not lived-in enough for Joyce to have been here long. The strangest part was that she didn’t appear to have a roommate. Bishop didn’t see college students without roommates often, so either Joyce or her parents must be well-off.
Or she was particularly motivated to live alone.
Bishop had a feeling he would find out why within the hour. There was something off about this case. Something missing.The three dead students were connected, but everyone Bishop talked to had a different idea of how close they had been to each other. Other strange breadcrumbs, like Marco’s missing laptop and an unusual amount of money in Timothy’s wallet.
Joyce wasn’t the first of Marco’s hookups Bishop had talked to. She probably wouldn’t be the last either. She was just the most reluctant.
