Part 23 (2/2)

Flick of the wrist. ”Your new bit of stuff was pure soccer mom. She killed herself, fas.h.i.+onwise.”

”Still, wouldn't Carl be the obvious suspect in the murder? Or Ashton? Being gone is a convenient excuse. That's when people order hit men.”

Octavia scoffed. ”Most hit men are undercover cops. The rest are mob guys. Ashton didn't know any f.u.c.king hit men.”

”He could've looked one up.”

”I don't think he expected to be gone as long as he did. And he couldn't hire a killer over the phone without a face-to-face. So, unlikely.”

I looked down to find I was mindlessly twirling my spoon around in my Pho. It seemed really suspicious for a killer to announce himself like this. Especially if I was supposedly the sideshow rather than the big tent act.

Octavia had already gotten there. ”First, if it's this obvious, there has to be something else going on. Second, it could be that Mick is the star of this ridiculous show, and they had guessed that my finances would support his legal defense. They risked taking me off the playing field on the hopes that Pamela would be busy enough with me, draining my few remaining resources, and unable to help you. A miscalculation, absolutely. But still...” She twisted some noodles around on her chopsticks and lifted them to her mouth, sucked up several strands. Chewed and talked. ”Still, it shows a strategy. This is someone who's been thinking for a while. Maybe a week is long enough.”

”Can it be so clear to us, but impossible to prove to the police?”

She shrugged. ”That would make whoever this is a Professor f.u.c.king Moriarity. You think that fits Carl?”

”Kind of.”

She looked at me, then Jennings, then back to me. ”All I know is that it took someone we know selling out private information about us, and that if it turns out to be one of you, then G.o.d help you.”

”Me? I'm being charged with murder here! Jesus Christ, Octavia!”

”That's good enough for me. How about you, Sweet Cheeks?”

Jennings didn't say anything at first. I thought a confession was coming on, growing from the pit of his heart, through his lungs, about to erupt from his mouth. And I hate to say it, but if it had, a part of me would have been relieved, and another part would've not been surprised. Really.

But when he did finally speak, it was soft and to the point. ”Octavia, I hate you. I hate how you treat me. I hate the terrible things you call me because I'm gay, especially when you're the most butch d.y.k.e I've ever seen. I hate how you spoil me by letting me buy all the clothes I never thought I would be able to own. I hate how my salary and benefits and free travel make it impossible for me to quit this job, impossible to have a real relations.h.i.+p, impossible to be anyone other than who you want me to be.”

Octavia's gaze was stone. They looked each other right in the eye as he spilled, devastatingly quiet throughout. ”I can't stand to look at you, and how you just seem to get bigger and bigger and how I'm supposed to celebrate what you're doing to yourself rather than criticizing you and helping you get healthy. I hate your cruelty to others. I hate how selfish and petty you can be. I hate what you did last week to those people, I truly do. And I often fantasize about your death, or some catastrophic failure, or your complete physical or psychic breakdown. I do. I revel in it. But...listen to me good...”

We were on the edges of our seats. At least I was.

He said, ”I would stop a bullet for you. I do everything I can everyday to make you as much money as possible. I never say a critical word outside our circle of friends. I spent all day yesterday putting our emergency plan into effect, and I won't leave your side, not ever, as long as I know you need me through this. The one good thing I'll say about you is that you have been loyal to me, and I can never repay that enough. I hate you like I hate my mother, cutting me off the day I came out to her. But whatever it is that makes me cry when I think about all I miss about her, I'm able to find in you. I hate you, and I care about you, and I would never do something like this to you, understand? And If you ever entertain any such thought or suggestion ever again, I will kill myself in your home in the messiest possible way. Got it?”

The staring contest went on a little longer. Holy G.o.d, I'd been waiting for that day to come, but I never thought it would. She needed to hear it. Jennings was a human being with feelings and had treated her better than she deserved. And now, it took this to make him open up.

Octavia broke off the staredown, winked at me and said, ”Who knew this little f.a.ggot had it in him?” She reached over, patted Jennings's hand. ”Feel better now? Fine, I get it. You're a drama queen with too weak a spine to rat me out. Let's move on.”

He actually grinned at her. A good sign, I hoped. But he wiped his mouth on the napkin, said, ”f.u.c.k you,” then stood and walked out of the restaurant.

”Aw, come on, get back here.” Louder as she spoke to his back. Farther and farther. ”Jennings! Jennings! Don't be such a p.u.s.s.y!”

Once he was out the door, she pushed her chair back. ”s.h.i.+t, let's catch him before he finds some huge c.o.c.ked bear to console him. Mick, sweetie, could you pay the bill? Jennings has all my money right now.”

She hefted herself up and made a beeline for the door, as fast as she was able, and left me with three fortune cookies and a check that was probably going to break my bank card.

SEVEN.

I was being followed. Cops. They either thought I was too dumb to realize it or they didn't care if I knew.

Couldn't wait to find out what they would do when it became obvious I was investigating on my own. Another arrest? Impeding? Contempt?

I was driving to campus, hoping to catch the Provost in his office. Going right in there to tell him Frances was missing, Stephanie was dead, and that I think he had something to do with it. Octavia thought it was probably a good idea, having observed how he reacted to the revelation of his swingers club the week before. Like a volcano. He definitely liked control, and he was ready to ”throwdown” if you challenged him. But Octavia taught me what to look for-the tells that gave away truth and lies.

And thankfully, Jennings had calmed down by then and was able to contribute. Like brother and sister, those two. He had spotted the cops earlier on our way home from the restaurant, and said the best course of action was to go on with our lives.

Octavia had said, ”That's pretty stupid.”

And we had asked her to explain, of course.

”Well, guilty people would go on with their lives, try to make believe everything's fine. Innocent people would do everything they could to show that they didn't do it.”

”I don't think Pamela would agree with that.”

Octavia spread her arms wide, looked around the study. ”And do you see her here? Where is our high-priced lawyer when we need her most?”

I'd thought about answering Working her a.s.s off to save us, but decided against it.

And so there I was, heading over to see the closest thing I had to an archenemy to accuse him of killing my ex-wife and the married woman I was having an affair with, who was also our colleague.

Since I had promised to stay off campus, I was prepared for it to end in fireworks. I parked in the administration parking lot, hoping my permit was still valid and not on someone's ”red flag” list. As I walked across the parking lot, I kept my head down, moving fast, hoping not to be recognized. Inside, up the stairs, and into the danger zone. Of course every secretary and executive a.s.sistant and professor and maybe even some of the student workers knew the whole story-even the part about my arrest-and knew I wasn't supposed to be there.

But no one stopped me. They were openly staring, but no one said a word as I crossed into the provost's waiting area to find Alice seated at her desk.

I stopped. I squinted. I said, ”Hey.”

Her chin was propped on the heel of her hand, elbow on the desk. Her spaghetti strap top was off one shoulder, showing whoever walked by a lot of skin. Satsuma orange fingernails rested on her cheek. Like she'd been waiting for me. Back to her usual flirty self. I was somewhat sure she hadn't been at work all week, spending most of the time with Octavia. In fact, she only left once, bundled in a bathrobe, to go home for a change of clothes. G.o.d knows what had happened to the ones she'd shown up in.

But I had been with Stephanie a lot myself, our days and nights getting tangled and mixed up, wandering around her house naked, rarely showering, me occasionally throwing on pants and a t-s.h.i.+rt to find whatever cuisine best went along with whatever carnal pleasure we'd submerged ourselves in.

I blinked. Alice's dreamy grin widened so much, her eyes nearly closed.

She asked, ”Didn't get raped in jail by any chance, did you?”

”They kept me by myself.”

She snapped her fingers and made an Aw, nuts face. ”Aw, nuts. And here I thought we'd finally have something in common.”

”Alice, please-”

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