“Good.”
“I...” How did she tell him goodbye? For good? “Be safe out there, Tommy.”
“You, too, Regan.”
She ended the call before either of them said the one thing they had avoided all these years. She harbored no illusions that she and Tommy would ever be together. The time had passed, and it had never really been an option. A relationship born out of pain and grief couldn’t last.
But, she realized, it was okay. She felt a burden lift off her chest that avoiding Tommy was over. That she could call him, and maybe they could reclaim the friendship they’d had before they’d started dancing around their feelings.
It gave her hope.
Twenty
Professor Clarkson had office hours from three to six today, but it was nearly seven o’clock when Lucas arrived. Clarkson was at his desk, reading term papers. He was old-fashioned; while the school required that all homework be submitted online, the professor printed out his students’ essays and wrote in their margins, returning the hard copy. People called him a dinosaur, but Lucas found him to be one of the most interesting of all his teachers. He’d been a criminal-defense lawyer, worked on several high-profile cases, and wrote a book about how the system failed both the guilty and the innocent. In the end, it was the best system of justice yet devised, and they only needed to work harder to make it work for everyone. Lucas had read the book twice.
He wanted that. He wanted to be that pillar of truth that Clarkson often talked about.
He knocked on the open door. “Sorry I’m stopping by after office hours,” he said.
Clarkson looked up. “Nonsense. Come in, Lucas. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be. Sit down, please.”
Lucas was pretty sure that wasn’t true. While the prof wasn’t married—Lucas heard through the grapevine that his wife had died in an accident a long time ago, and his only daughter was a corporate lawyer in California—Clarkson had many friends. And even though students called him old-fashioned, he was one of the most popular professors in the criminal justice department.
Lucas didn’t know what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how to talk about it. His friends either thought he was crazy for doing the podcast or thought it was a cool idea and had a hundred ways to help him—most of which were over the top. Lizzy had been a rock, but he’d complained to her far too much, and she had to be getting tired of it. Troy, his roommate, was a good person to talk to, but since he’d met Denise, Lucas thought he now only half listened to him.
So that left Professor Clarkson. Lucas hoped he didn’t mind, but he trusted Clarkson more than anyone.
“Lucas? What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know.”
Clarkson leaned back in his leather chair. “You don’t know why you came to talk to me?”
“Last night’s podcast with Regan was excellent. I got a great response. Four times more calls than in the previous two episodes. Afterward, Regan seemed to be invested, and we talked about next steps... She got Candace’s roommate to talk. Not to me, but Regan had me sitting in the room while they were on speaker. Now she’s talking to Detective Young.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know. What if he convinces her not to help me? I mean, I thought I could do this on my own, but I realized after last night that I need Regan’s help.”
Clarkson leaned back and steepled his fingers. “I’m not sure I understand why that would be the case.”
Lucas squirmed in his seat, unsure what to say, why he’d even come here in the first place.
Finally, the professor said, “What do you think Regan can do that you can’t?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Your proposal was to create a podcast to crowdsource information on where Candace Swain was for the week before her murder and ultimately find out who committed the crime. So far, you have made considerable progress.”
“Yeah, we have. It’s okay that I keep her on, right? She already agreed to come back on Friday.”
“Of course. It was my idea, remember?” Clarkson smiled. “You’re a smart young man, Lucas. I have enjoyed our time together, our conversations, your ability to see possibilities. You’re going to go far in this world, in whatever your chosen career. Anyone who succeeds does so in part because they recognize when they need help, and take it when offered.”
“I want to find the truth so bad. I want to know what happened to Candace.”
“Everyone does, but some more than others,” Clarkson said. “Do I need to be worried about you?”
“No. Why?”
“No particular reason.” He said it in a way that suggested he in fact had a reason but decided not to share with Lucas.
“You think I’m obsessed.”
“Are you?”
“Now you sound like a shrink or something.”
Clarkson smiled. “Maybe I do.” Then, more serious, he said, “It comes from years working as a criminal-defense lawyer. People have secrets. Most of the secrets they keep aren’t criminal, just private. Yet, some secrets are worth dying for—or killing for. I have a confession to make. I suggested you bring Regan on board not just because I thought she might be able to help but because I am worried.”
“About what?”
“You’re airing a podcast where you are trying to find a killer. If you are right—and based on what I’ve heard, I think you are—Joseph Abernathy didn’t kill Candace. If you get too close to the truth, you could get hurt. I don’t want to see that happen.”
“Regan said pretty much the same thing.”
“Good. Then, she knows you’re onto something.”
Lucas actually did feel better talking it all out. “I appreciate your time.”
“Stop by anytime.”