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“We believe his body has been in the lake for ten years,” Ellie added.
“It was probably one of those weirdos at his apartment,” Mr. Waycross muttered angrily.
“We’re trying to locate them now,” replied Derrick. “If you think of one of their names, please let us know.”
Mr. Waycross nodded tightly.
“There’s something else,” Ellie said. “Your son was driving a car that belonged to a young woman named Amy Dean. She had a small child, a little girl, and both are missing.”
Waycross jerked his head up, eyes alarmed. “What are you saying? That my son was involved with this woman? Was the child his?”
“At this point, we don’t believe they were involved, not romantically anyway.”
“Then why was he in her car?”
“I don’t know yet.” Ellie paused. “Mr. Waycross, we spoke to a couple of young women who knew your son. Were you aware he liked to cut himself and watch himself bleed?” Cutting and self-mutilation were ways of releasing pain that a person was experiencing. It gave them control.
“Jesus,” Waycross muttered.
Ellie leaned forward, studying him intently. “Do you think Reuben was capable of hurting someone else?”
A helpless look flashed across his face. “I… honestly don’t know. He wasn’t violent when he was little, but the drugs… they changed him. It was like he became someone else.”
Questions mounted in Ellie’s head. Had Waycross been dangerous? Could he have hurt Amy and her daughter before he died? If so, who had killed him?
FIFTY-THREE
WIDOW PEAK COLLEGE
“Dr. Camilla Dansen earned a bachelor’s degree in criminology twenty years ago and worked in local law enforcement for three years before returning to university to earn her doctorate,” Derrick said thirty minutes later as Ellie parked in front of the Justice Hall at the college. “She’s been employed at Widow Peak College for the last fifteen years and has been a guest speaker at conferences focusing on criminology and law enforcement along with a Writers’ Police Academy for crime fiction writers.”
“Interesting background,” Ellie commented as she scanned the quadrangle. A few students had gathered on the lawn and two girls were posing for selfies by the arches. “Let’s see if the professor remembers the group of guys Beverly and Janie mentioned.”
Heat blazed the pavement and her skin, and the dry air made it hard to breathe. Ellie tugged at her clothes, which were damp, as they climbed the steps and entered the building. The air conditioner felt heavenly in the quiet halls, as they made their way to Dr. Dansen’s office.
The door stood ajar and Ellie spotted a woman, mid-forties, dressed in a black pant suit, her shiny black hair styled in a chin-length bob. Her skin was so pale Ellie wondered if she’d ever seen the light of day. Probably applied sunscreen before she even got out of bed.
Derrick knocked and Dr. Dansen glanced up, waving them in.
As she stood, she buttoned her suit jacket then extended her hand, but her demeanor seemed slightly austere. “Nice to meet you, Special Agent Fox, Detective Reeves. I’ve admired your work the last couple of years.”
Ellie raised a brow, surprised she knew of her. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” She gestured for them to sit and they did, Ellie immediately profiling her as detail-oriented, business-focused, intelligent and a no-nonsense type of person. She was certain the professor had profiled her as well, which unnerved her slightly.
Dr. Dansen folded her slender, manicured hands on her desk, which was neat and organized. Books on criminals, personality disorders, crime scene investigations, blood spatter and various other related topics filled a bookcase behind her.
“What exactly can I do for you?” Dr. Dansen asked.
“I’m sure you’ve seen the news about the body we found in the lake,” Ellie said.
The professor nodded.
“We identified him as a young man named Reuben Waycross, a former student at the college here.” She paused, waiting to see if the name registered. When the woman didn’t react, Ellie continued. “He died of blunt force trauma to the back of his head.”
Dr. Dansen raised a brow. “He was murdered?”
“Yes,” Ellie said. “He was also driving a car belonging to a female student at the time, a young single mother named Amy Dean. She disappeared about the same time Waycross died. At this point, we’re concerned something happened to her and her two-year-old daughter.”
