Raines — tall, sharp-eyed — greeted them with wary politeness. “Agents. Come in.”
They took seats across from his desk. Tessa opened her notebook.
“We’re reviewing the days before Lauren Pierce disappeared,” she said. “Anything unusual with her schedule? Her mood?”
“She kept to herself after the Benton fiasco,” Raines said. “Always professional.”
Professional. Rehearsed.
“What kind of relationship did you have with her — outside the department?” Tessa asked.
“None.” His tone stayed crisp. “Strictly business. Class schedules,grant forms, broken coffee machines. She was an assistant, not a friend.”
As he spoke, Scout drifted toward the corner, careful not to draw attention to the trench coat tossed over a hard case. He lifted the coat.
A hard-sided Royal typewriter case sat beneath it.
He popped the latches.
Empty.
Scout glanced at Tessa. She caught it in the small shift of his shoulders.
She pivoted slightly. “Where’s your typewriter, Professor?”
Raines’s brow furrowed. “It broke last fall. Keys jammed. I took it home.”
Tessa’s attention slid to the windowsill. Several plants crowded the light. One stood apart — a single violet, lush and out of season.
Her fingers tightened on her pen.
A memory flashed: her cabin door easing open. The stillness. That same color waiting on her table.
She rose slightly in her chair.
“Someone broke into my cabin last night,” she said evenly. “They left a violet on my table. One a lot like this. Any idea why that might be?”
Raines blinked — surprised, then recovering.
“You’re serious? You think I’d break into your cabin? If I wanted suspicion, I’d have left a signed confession.”
Scout’s voice stayed casual. “Maybe you like the game. Keeps things interesting between faculty meetings.”
Raines gave a short laugh.
“You’ve met Sinclair and Keller, right? If you want unstable personalities, start there. Sinclair’s a control freak with a fly rod — pretends to be Hemingway but can’t write a line without sharpening his pencils first. And Keller — well. Keller can’t keep his zipper closed long enough to finish a sentence.”
Hefolded his hands.
“I like competence, Agent. Which means around here, I’m perpetually disappointed.”
Tessa closed her notebook.
“We’ll be in touch.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Raines replied.
Out in the corridor, Scout exhaled slowly. “He’s hiding something. Even if it’s not what we think.”
