About damn time, Parker.
47
North Carolina S.B.I. — SSA Tucker
Interview Two — Professor Raines
Behind the one-way glass, Burke stood with Scout.
Tucker entered and shut the door. McHan waited in the corner with a legal pad. Raines sat with a Styrofoam cup in both hands.
“Recording,” Tucker said.
The red light blinked on.
A folder slid across the table.
“Your name keeps surfacing where it shouldn’t.”
Raines didn’t touch it.
“Cedar sachets. Lavender oil. Custom journals. A Royal Quiet DeLuxe typewriter. Cash purchase. Asheville. Two weeks before Lauren Pierce disappeared.”
“Writing isn’t illegal,” Raines said.
“No,” Tucker said. “But those items match what Sara Parker described.”
He tapped the folder. “That’s alignment.”
“You’d find that in half the homes on faculty row. We’re writers.”
“Notfrom this vendor. Small supplier out of Boone. Three shipments in six weeks.”
Raines opened the folder.
“Delivered to my campus office. Half disappeared within a week.”
“Stolen?” McHan asked.
“Students take things.”
“You didn’t report it?”
“Over lavender?” A thin smile. “No.”
Tucker flipped a page. “Tenure denied. Publication disputes. Formal complaint.”
“Context matters.”
“Then give it.”
“My mentor wanted ownership of my work. I refused.”
“He described obsession.”
“We’re done discussing my career.”
“We’re here because every time we pull a thread, you’re under it.”
