Page 53 of What They'll Say About Us

"Morgan," I said. "Why don't you show Detective Barclay the photo you found?"

"There's a photo?" he asked, sitting up straighter. "Of whom? Paige and someone?"

"No, but I think you'll still be interested in it." Morgan turned her computer screen around so he could see the photo of Detective Cabot and Professor Hale shaking hands and smiling together at the chess tournament. "I assume you recognize Detective Cabot and?—"

"I know who he's with—Professor Hale," he said, his lips tightening.

"They were friends," Morgan said. "The article quotes them as saying they enjoyed playing each other, and each time they competed, they learned something new about the other's game."

"That photo appeared in the local paper several months before Paige's death," I added. "But there is absolutely no mention in the police report that Detective Cabot knew Professor Hale. Don't you find that odd, Detective?"

"Evanston is a tight community," Barclay said, his gaze still fixed on the screen. "I'm not entirely surprised that they knew each other."

I was disappointed in his response. "So, you're going to pretend that wasn't a potential conflict of interest?"

His gaze turned to me. "Professor Hale was not a person of interest, so why would there be a conflict?"

"He should have been a person of interest. Why wasn't he? He was Paige's teacher, the director of the play she was starring in. And Paige's roommate, Sloane, told Detective Cabot that she thought Paige might have had an inappropriate relationship with Hale."

"That's not in the report."

"Because he didn't put it in there," I said pointedly. "But I talked to Sloane this morning, and she told me that she gave that information to Detective Cabot. He said he would follow up on it, but he didn't. Don't you think that a professor worried about his reputation and possibly his job might be willing to cross a line to silence someone threatening all that?"

Barclay stared back at me, and I could see him weighing my words. "That's a leap from a suggested affair."

"Is it?" I pressed. "Paige's behavior was off in the weeks before she died. That was confirmed by Sloane Winters, Liam Crawford, and Nate Gardiner. But none of that information made it into the files. I think Detective Cabot might have been covering for his friend, Hale. And without any real proof of murder, he was happy to go along with the conclusion of accidental death and close the investigation in less than three weeks. Maybe he knew Hale did it, or perhaps he thought Hale might be implicated or that his reputation might be muddied, I don't know. We need to find out."

"I need to find out," he corrected. "I'll talk to Vincent."

"I want to talk to him, too. Let's go together."

"No. This is a police investigation."

"Not this part. This is you talking to a former associate, and how can I be sure you won't cover up whatever he says?" I challenged.

"Because I don't do cover-ups," he said flatly.

"I doubt you'd admit it if you did. And even if you don't do cover-ups, I know more about the Hale and Paige relationship than you do. I know what people told Cabot. I know what he asked me. You need me there. If you don't take me with you, I'll talk to him eventually. I'll go on my own."

He gave me a dark glare. "I'm beginning to see why the people I've spoken to say you're a pain in the ass."

"I'm not going to even ask who said that because it could be any number of people. But we're not going to get to the truth without both of us being a pain in the ass. And if you show up with me at Cabot's house, you'll shake him up, catch him off guard. He won't know what I know, so maybe he'll tell the truth."

He looked back at the photo for a long minute, then he nodded. "Fine. One of you can go with me, not both of you. And I'm doing the talking."

"Tessa will go," Morgan said, turning her computer back to face her. "She has a history with Detective Cabot; I don't."

"Let's go now," I said, getting to my feet.

"You're very impatient."

"To get to the truth, yes. Are we going?"

"I already regret this," he muttered as we stood up.

"Our conversation with Cabot could clear a lot of things up," I said, grabbing my bag and opening the door.

"He's more likely to talk to me alone than to you. This is not a good idea."