Keller let out a short, hollow laugh. “Not from me. Lauren said she was going to tell her herself.”
“When?” Tessa asked.
“The week before she disappeared.” His voice thinned. “She came to my office furious. Said she wasn’t going to be a secret anymore.”
Tessa’s gaze didn’t waver. “Was Lauren pregnant?”
Keller went completely still.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Still.
Burke slid a photo across the table. A cheap drugstore test kit. A yellow sticky note with one word written in black ink:
Pregnant?
Keller stared at it.
“She told me,” he said quietly.
The room went silent.
“When?” Tessa asked.
“The fundraiser,” Keller replied. “In the service hallway. She said she’d taken a test that morning. Said it was positive.”
Scout pushed off the wall. “And?”
He looked like a man doing math he didn’t like the answer to. “My wife was four months pregnant. I had a toddler at home. Mytenure review was in the spring.” He looked up, eyes raw. “Do you understand what that would’ve done to me?”
Burke didn’t blink. “Tell us.”
“It would’ve destroyed everything,” Keller said. Not dramatic. Just factual. “My marriage. My position. My career. My family.” A beat. “And hers.”
Tessa’s tone sharpened. “Did you threaten her?”
“No.” The answer came fast. “I told her we needed to handle it carefully.”
“Carefully how?” Burke asked.
“I asked if she’d seen a doctor. If she was sure. I told her she couldn’t just walk in here and drop a bomb like that.” His throat worked. “She said she wasn’t asking me for anything.”
Scout’s voice was quiet. “What happened after that?”
“She walked back into the ballroom.” Keller’s gaze drifted somewhere distant. “I didn’t see her again.”
A beat.
Burke leaned forward slightly. “Did you kill Lauren Pierce, Professor?”
Keller’s eyes snapped up. For a split second, something flickered—fear, calculation, guilt.
Then he shook his head. “No.”
Scout didn’t look away. “Did you get rid of her?”
