“I’m sorry, Sister, can you say that again?”
“You need to pay more attention, young man.” Lincoln immediately had a vision of a stooped old nun smacking his palm with a ruler and nearly laughed aloud. “I was saying that I don’t think there is anyone else here that she was very close to, but she spent a lot of time with the priest who was killed. Such a good man, such a loss to the church. We have a hard time bringing in the younger people these days. Boys just don’t want to be priests anymore. I’m getting off the subject. She was friends with him. With Father Xavier. They spent quite a bit of time together. I believe he was tutoring her in Latin. She wanted to attend the Latin Mass, you know. Such a good girl.”
“Sister, thank you so much for your time. I have to let you go now.”
“God bless you and keep you.” She hung up before he could answer.
He turned to Taylor, who was impatiently tapping her fingers on top of the filing cabinet.
“Got another tidbit for you.”
“Yeah? Well, if it’s as good as your last one I’m going to kiss you.”
“Ooh, baby. Then get over here and pucker up. Guess who Mary Margaret spent all her time with?”
“Who?”
“Father Xavier.”
Taylor started grinning. “Damn good job, Lincoln. C’mere.” She grabbed him and laid one on him, then ran off down the hall, shouting for Baldwin.
64
Armed with her team’s hours of work, Taylor and Baldwin went to the Vanderbilt campus. The storm damage was extensive, but the cleanup had gone very well, and all the roads through downtown were back open, as was the campus itself.
It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone on the quad, the grass had been freshly mowed, probably for the last time before the bitter cold of winter hit. There was just a hint of the smell of burning leaves wafting through the air; most had been blown off the trees during the heavy storms. The scent reminded Taylor that the nights would soon turn frigid and warm fires would be needed to chase away the fingers of winter.
Students milled about, happy to be back to school, enjoying the unseasonably warm morning. Two boys played with a football, showing off for three girls in bikini tops and cutoff shorts on a blanket nearby.
There were two professors they needed to talk to from the classics department: Edward Lear and Barry James. Fitz and Marcus had gone through Shelby’s, Jordan’s, and Jill’s records since their arrival at Vanderbilt. By intersecting their schedules, they had come up with the names of two professors all three had taken classes from. After the conversation with the nun in administration at Aquinas College revealed that Mary Margaret de Rossi sometimes audited classes at Vanderbilt in the classics—a program not offered at her school—they found she’d audited several classes, including one each from each professor.
The net was closing.
Baldwin had found the girl who had put together the flyer campaign to help find Jill. Her name was Susan Davidson, and he thought it would be smart to speak with her first, before the professors. If they knew a little more about Jill, they might be able to piece the rest of the story together.
Taylor and Baldwin made their way to the Student Center, and Susan met them at the door, escorted them inside, and found them a table.
Taylor started the interview with a few niceties, asking about the girl’s study and major. Then she started in.
“So, Susan, tell us how you know Jill Gates.”
“We met at a sorority rush party in the first week of school. She wasn’t thrilled to be there, which surprised me. I mean, she had the looks, the body, the whole package the sororities look for. I also heard she was a Tri-Delt legacy, so I figured she’d be snapped up quickly. I really wouldn’t have paid a lot of attention, you know, except she took off in the middle of rush. Just left. I thought it was strange, but I had my own stuff to deal with, you know?”
“But you met her again, right? You said on the phone that you two had a class together.”
“Yeah, last semester. I added it in the second week. I didn’t like my psychology class, so I transferred into this classics class, you know, mythology and all that? One of the girls in my dorm told me the prof was totally cool, and he was. Went off all the time on these weird tangents, but he was so into the gods and their roles shaping our lives that we couldn’t help but get interested. And he has the grooviest eyes, you know. Sort of this sea green, like yours, Agent Baldwin, though yours are much prettier.”