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charge. You have a ton of investigative work to do, and you’re aware that you’re racing the clock. So why are you sitting here, babysitting me, instead of doing something?”
“I’m not babysitting you.” Derek answered her bluntly. “The truth is, I’m all for heading right down to John Jay and questioning everyone—starting with Elliot’s grad students, who were probably the last people to see him alive. But I asked Bob to hold off notifying the college so I could have time to get to you first.”
“You lost me.”
“One second.” Derek held up his index finger. As he spoke, he groped in his jacket pocket for his cell phone. “Let me call Bob right now. Once I do, he’ll take the gag order off Deborah and inform the college of what happened so they can notify the staff and students.”
Sloane blinked. “No one at John Jay knows yet?”
“No. I asked Bob to wait until I’d told you. I didn’t want you hearing this news from anyone else.”
Abruptly, Sloane realized how much trouble Derek had gone to for her—from leaving the crime scene—and the investigation—to drive all the way out here, to sitting with her and absorbing some of her grief, to halting the red tape of bureaucracy in its tracks to give her time to absorb the shock. “I didn’t think about…” She blew out a slow breath. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“You knew just what I needed.”
“I usually do.” Derek found and whipped out his cell. “I know you, Sloane,” he informed her as he punched in Bob’s number. “Really know you. And, even though this isn’t the time to get into it, that’s the reason we’ve been fighting.” He waited while his call went through.
Sloane’s brows rose, and she struggled for humor. “Really? I thought we were fighting because you were an overpossessive jerk.”
“Were we?” Derek wasn’t laughing. “Or were we fighting because we’re living a pretense we can’t keep up anymore, but you can’t let go of because the outcome scares you to death?” His chin jerked down so he could speak into the mouthpiece. “Bob, it’s me. I’m at Sloane’s.” A pause. “Pretty much the way you’d expect. But she’s tough, just like I told you. She’s determined to come down there now to question some of the staff and students who were closest to Elliot. I think it’s a good idea. Right now we’ve got the element of surprise on our side. The less time people have to prepare themselves, the more likely they’ll be to say something they wished they hadn’t—assuming any of them has something to hide.”
Another pause. “We’ll head down together—yes, in my car and with me at the wheel. My question is, if we leave now, does that give you enough time to alert the administration so they can inform the college community and get started doing any necessary damage control?” Derek listened for a minute or two. “Good. We’ll meet you there.” He glanced up as Sloane gestured for him to hand her the phone. “Bob, hang on a minute. Sloane wants to talk to you.” He passed his cell over to her.
“Hi, Bob. Thanks for worrying about me, but I’m fine. I will let Derek drive us into the city, but not because I’m an emotional wreck who’ll fall apart at the wheel, but because it’s stupid to take two cars when we’re going to the same place.”
She swallowed hard. “The reason I wanted to talk to you is to provide some personal information that will save you time, if not pain. Elliot’s family is small. He’s got a sister, Patty, who lives in Portland, Maine. And his parents moved from New York to Conway, South Carolina, when he left for college. They’re still living there, so you shouldn’t have any trouble finding them. You’re welcome. See you soon.”
She hung up the phone, and looked at Derek. “Bob says you have news?”
“Two detectives are already questioning the residents of Elliot’s apartment building. Also, Bob is going to press the decision makers at John Jay to allow mouth swabs to be conducted starting later today.”
“Good. The sooner, the better.”
Derek walked over, tipped up her chin. “I’m the case agent, as you pointed out. I can handle this part, and fill you in later. Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I’m not sure of anything. But I am going to do it. So, let’s go.” Sloane was about to head for the door, when she paused, giving Derek a guarded, slightly baffled look. “What did you mean before—about us living a pretense that we can’t keep up anymore?”
“That’s the prelude to a pretty heavy conversation. Maybe we should shelve it until later.”
Sloane nodded. “You’re right. We’ve got to jump on this investigation.”
“That’s not the reason. Impatient or not, we’ve got to give Bob a little time to alert the John Jay administration, and deal with the initial fallout. It’s you I was thinking about. You just lost a close friend. You’re in emotional shock.” Derek paused. “Or maybe that’s all the more reason for us not to shelve this talk. We’ve shelved it too damned long already.”
“Fair enough,” Sloane replied, turning to face him. “Go for it.”
“I plan to.” Derek’s midnight gaze held hers. “Only this time with no holds barred. The fact is, life is short—too short, as tragedies like Elliot’s murder remind us. We have to seize every moment, and not get bogged down in crap. The past is the past. The future is a big question mark. The present is all we’ve really got. So, yeah, you and I screwed up back in Cleveland. You were wrong. I was wrong. Whoever was the bigger jackass is irrelevant. We both paid the price. We lost over a year of time, and threw out a relationship that comes along once in a lifetime—if you’re lucky. So now that fate or circumstances has given us another shot to make it work, why are we throwing it away?”
“We’re not…”
“Yes, we are. We throw it away every time we pretend we’re nothing more than great sex partners with a little something extra and a steamy past. Why don’t we grow the hell up and call it what it is?”
“Because, like you said, I’m scared to death,” Sloane answered flatly.
“Get over it. Because if you don’t, you’re exactly the coward I accused you of being when you quit the Bureau.”
“That’s low.”
