“Did you threaten her?” Burke asked.
“No.” Benton’s voice went hoarse. “I didn’t threaten her.”
“Then help us,” Tessa said, stepping closer. “Because if you didn’t make that call, someone else did.”
Benton swallowed. His eyes flicked toward the door like he expected someone to be standing there.
“She got… intense,” he muttered. “Like she was convinced something happened here. Like she thought Lauren didn’t just vanish—she got erased.”
“And you thought what?” Tessa asked.
“I thought she was gonna get herself in trouble,” Benton said. “Not because of me. Because of?—”
He stopped.
“Because of who?” Burke pressed.
Benton’s mouth tightened. “Forget it.”
“Coach,” Tessa said quietly, “Sara Parker is missing. And Lauren Pierce is dead. This isn’t the part where you protect your reputation.”
Benton stared at her a long moment, then looked away.
“I didn’t kill Lauren,” he said again. “And I didn’t take Parker.”
Tessa nodded once. “Then if you remember anything—anything—call.”
His hand trembled against the glass.
Daniel Keller — English Department
Keller’s office was precise—books aligned by color, a crooked award framed as if meant to look casual. He rose with a practiced smile.
“She was bright,” he said. “Organized. Kept things running.”
“She was vulnerable,” Tessa said. “You took advantage of that.”
A laugh lingered too long. “You’ve been talking to people.”
“Your wife came to campus,” Tessa said. “She met Lauren.”
The smile faltered. “Briefly.”
“She was pregnant.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with it,” Tessa said. “Lauren was humiliated.”
He exhaled sharply. “She was emotional. I tried to help.”
“By sleeping with her?”
Silence stretched.
“She was lonely,” Keller said finally. “I made a mistake.”
“Lauren Pierce is dead,” Tessa said. Low. Direct.
