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She’d been a solo, by personal choice. No point in getting close to anyone, she thought now. Just passing through here, just marking time until I’m out of the goddamn system and making my own choices.
Which had been the Academy. The department. And another system.
“Lieutenant Dallas.” Browning gestured Eve forward. She’d tamed her hair somewhat by pulling it back, pinning it up, but she still looked lush and exotic. Hardly Eve’s internal vision of a college professor.
“Is there news?” she asked. “News on Rachel?”
“The investigation’s ongoing” was all Eve would say. “I have a few questions. What would Rachel have been working on in here?”
“Wait.” Leeanne drew out a memo book. “That’s an introductory course, summer semester. We have a number of part-time students, like Rachel, and a good portion of full-timers on a fast track during summer session,” she continued as she flipped through the book. “Not quite as big a load as during the fall and spring semesters, but . . . Ah yes, Faces. Portraits in the City. The connection between image and imager.”
“Would you have any of her recent work?”
“Yes, I should have some samples and finished assignments in my files. Hold on just a minute.”
She went to her computer, keyed in a password, gave a series of commands. “As I told you, Rachel was a conscientious student. More, she was having fun with this course. It wasn’t a make or break for her, simply a filler, bu
t she put effort into her assignments, and wasn’t just warming a seat. Here. Take a look.”
She stepped back so Eve could see the screen.
“Remke. It’s the guy who runs the deli across from the 24/7 where she worked.”
“You can see she captured a certain toughness by the angle of his head, the jut of his chin. He’s a bulldog from the look of him.”
Eve remembered the way he’d clocked City Maintenance. “That’s on target.”
“Yet there’s a kindness in his eyes that she catches as well. There’s the staging, the sheen of perspiration on his face, and the coolness of the tubs of salads in the chill box behind him for a good contrast and sense of place. It’s a nice portrait. There are a few more, but this was the best of them.”
“I’d like a copy of anything she turned in.”
“All right. Computer, copy and print all imaging documents from Rachel Howard’s class file.” She angled toward Eve as the computer went to work. “I don’t understand how these will help you find her killer.”
“I want to see what she saw, and maybe I’ll see what her killer saw. The students who just left this class, most of them had bags. Disc bags or portfolios.”
“Education requires a lot of baggage. A student will need a notebook, a PPC, discs, probably a recorder, and for this course, a camera. That doesn’t touch the enhancements, the refreshments, the ’links, the completed assignments, the personal items they haul around campus.”
“What kind of bag did Rachel carry?”
Browning blinked, looked blank. “I don’t know. I’m sorry, I can’t say I noticed.”
“But she carried one?”
“Well, they all do.” Browning reached behind her desk, held up a large briefcase. “So do I.”
The killer had kept her bag, or disposed of it, Eve decided. He hadn’t dumped it with the body. Why? What use was it to him?
She made her own notes as she walked down the hall, as Rachel had done.
There wouldn’t have been as many people wandering through that night. Just a handful here and there from evening classes—summer evening, Eve thought. Campus isn’t as full.
She’d walked out with a group. Laughter, talking. Let’s go have pizza, a beer, coffee.
She declines. Heading over to the dorm to hang out with some pals. See you later.
Eve stepped out of the building, as Rachel had done, loitered a moment on the steps, as she imagined Rachel had done. Then stepped down, turned left on the walkway.
There may have been a few other students walking the same path, heading to dorms or toward public transpo. Quiet, she imagined, it would’ve been fairly quiet. The street and traffic noises buffered back, the bulk of the students in dorms or at their clubs and coffeehouses.
