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“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Mia said, staying glued to her spot on the grass, out of the way. Her words were clipped, as if hurrying them along.
They waved their goodbyes and trudged toward Lincoln’s cruiser parked at the front of the house.
Once the Sawyer brothers were out of view, Mia turned to Chet. “All right. How should we do this? If Professor Lipton still has a similar class schedule, he should be on campus for another couple of hours. We could head there now, and I can ask him some questions.”
A twinge of trepidation tickled his spine. As much as he relished the thought of getting some answers from the man he’d always pinned as a killer, the idea of placing Mia in a dangerous situation didn’t sit right. “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.”
She dropped her hands to her sides, jaw hanging open. “Why not? You said it yourself, he won’t speak with you. And now, the police have their sights set on Bobby even more. Professor Lipton isn’t even on their radar. I trust your instincts, and if something told you this man is guilty, that needs to be explored. Who better to do that than me?”
“I can think of plenty of people who’d be better to question a possible suspect,” Chet said. “The entire police department for starters. He could be dangerous. If he realizes your intent, he could react poorly. I can’t put you in the line of fire.”
“You’re not putting me anywhere. This is my idea. I want to do this. And if you don’t come with me, I’ll just go alone.” She set her jaw in a look of defiance he’d witnessed countless times in the kitchen. But this time, it didn’t irritate the hell out of him.
It scared him.
“Not an option,” he said, his wheels spinning as he tried to figure out the best way to handle this. He didn’t want to control her like her ex. Hell, he’d all but decided to keep distance between them and not get caught up in all these feelings she stirred. But if she was hellbent on visiting the college to speak with Professor Lipton, he would be as close to her as possible while she did. “Fine. I’ll drive you and make sure you’re safe. But I don’t want you to provoke him.”
A nervous smile played on her face. “We’ll have a twenty-minute drive to figure out exactly what I should say.”
Wrigley barked, drawing their attention.
Mia frown. “What about him?”
Chet groaned. Part of the reason he never wanted to have a dog was figuring out what to do with the damn thing at moments like these. “He’ll have to stay here, and we’ll have to hope he won’t destroy the place. We need to get him supplies, possibly a crate, so we won’t have to worry the next time we have to leave him alone.”
Mia nodded, and a light blush colored her cheeks.
He blew out a long breath.We. He had no right clumping them together and dictating plans for any kind of future. Even the future of her pet. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Couldn’t control the natural urge to see Mia—and her dog—as a permanent part of his life.
No matter how terrifying the prospect.
* * *
A quick searchof the community college’s current classes showed Mia that Professor Lipton’s schedule hadn’t changed much. Once Chet parked his truck in the lot next to the business building, she’d have a few minutes to get inside and catch him after class. Although he probably had office hours, it’d be safer for her to speak to him with other students milling around than trapped inside an office.
Chet shifted the car into Park and turned to face her, draping his arm over the back of the bench seat. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
She filled her lungs with air and fought to keep any signs of nervousness from her voice. If he sensed she was even the least bit hesitant, he’d throw the truck in reverse and hightail it out of there. “Yes. We already went over the best way to approach this. I’ll be gone five, ten minutes tops. Nothing bad will happen.”
He worked his jaw back and forth. “I’ll make sure of that. I’ll walk in behind you and stay close. But just in case things don’t go as planned…” he flipped open the glove box then pulled out a pocketknife. “Keep this on you.”
The sight of the palm-sized weapon tickled her nerves, but she accepted it. The silver was dull and CMB was etched in thin, fancy letters on the front. She brushed the tip of her finger over the indent. “What does that stand for?”
“My initials. It was a gift.” He cleared his throat and drew her attention to his face.
He stared out the windshield, his jaw tight, the way it always was when he didn’t want to talk. When something upset him, and he was struggling to hold himself together. Yesterday, she would have rested a hand on his and offered to listen to his troubles or throw her arms around him.
Now, they were back to where they started their relationship. Him holding everything in and her too scared of his stinging rebuff to support him. Only now, the ache in her heart made this familiar interaction so much worse.
“Thanks,” she said, “I’m sure I won’t need it, but I’ll feel better knowing it’s close.” She wasn’t just talking about the pocketknife, but this weird energy between them made it impossible to confess all the heavy and confusing emotions pressing down on her chest, stealing her breath.
She tossed the knife in her purse then crossed the strap over her body so the bag rested near her hip on the right side. In easy access if needed. “We should get going.”
Her heart sped up as she jumped down from the truck. Chet would stay in the vehicle for a couple minutes then follow her inside. Each step she took put him further behind her, making her nerve endings spark with unease. The late afternoon breeze barreled across the lot, and chills swept up her arms. The thin long-sleeved T-shirt not doing much to shield her.
The sun shifted behind a cloud, casting long shadows over the red brick of the business building. When she reached the glass door, she glanced behind her shoulder. Chet stood outside his truck and gave one nod, encouraging her onward.
Steeling her nerves, she rested one hand on her purse, the knowledge of what lay inside calming her, then stepped through the doorway. She passed the stairs directly to her right and made her way down the wide, familiar hallway. Bright lights bounced off the shiny, linoleum floor. The flood of students flowing from a room at the end of the hall told her where she needed to go.
