“I do not!” she cries, shaking her head and laughing. “I’m just interested in learning about our new faculty members, especially the young, handsome ones.”
Dr. Bowerman leans towards me and stage-whispers. “If you were a woman, you might file a complaint about being objectified.”
“I have no problem being complimented by such a lovely hostess.” A tease is in my voice.
Sarah laughs, narrowing her eyes. “You’re dangerous, Professor Winston.”
Dangerous to myself, I think.
I didn’t sleep after my massive indiscretion Thursday night, so I decided to take Dr. Bowerman up on his standing offer for me to have dinner with him and his wife at their home in Miranda Bay proper. I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending a Friday night alone attempting not to think about Reanna.
She never replied to my text, which is for the best. I can’t let myself think she might be angry or hurt. I can’t let myself think about her at all, so I’m here in this safe house with these safe, paternal figures, trying to convince myself I don’t have an unhealthy obsession with a student.
“Well, tell me how it’s going so far.” Dr. Bowerman sits back, sipping his glass of red wine. “I expect it’s quite an adjustment going from the excitement of your work to the quiet life of a professor in this sleepy college town.”
Exhaling a laugh, I shake my head. “Hamiltown’s pretty sleepy 90 percent of the time.”
“Yes, but you boys had a pretty big case not too long ago from what I understand. Organized crime, Russian mafia… I heard there was even a murder?”
“What?” Sarah gasps. “A murder in Hamiltown?”
I’ve just taken a bite of meat, which buys me a little time. The only murder that happened in Hamiltown was committed by Hugh van Hamilton’s bodyguard. Hugh agreed to pay Andre Bertonelli to steal a ledger of all the transactions carried out by RDIF-Kazan. It was quite the get, their leader Simon’s exclusive dishonor roll, but when it came time to deliver, Andre wanted more than the agreed-upon price.
None of us were there when it happened, but Hugh claims Andre became violent, and Hugh’s bodyguard subdued him a little too roughly. Hutch was furious, but he kept it off the record. One less criminal to worry about, one more piece of their puzzle in our hands.
Sometimes our family operates in the gray zone, but it’s what you have to do when taking down high-stakes criminals with vast networks and billions of dollars.
“That was a very long pause, young man.” Dr. Bowerman chuckles, and I straighten in my chair.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to remember. The murders happened in New York, and from what I’ve been told there’s no actual Russian mafia…”
“Surely you don’t believe that?” My mentor’s brow furrows, and I shrug.
“I only deal with them state-side, and from what I’ve observed, there’s a lot of in-fighting among the groups. No one’s particularly loyal to anyone.”
“Well, it sounds very exciting.” Sarah smiles, taking a sip of her wine.
“To be honest, my role is almost exclusively sitting behind a desk, researching information we find, monitoring the chat rooms where suspects hang out on the dark web, hacking into street cams or security cameras or using AirTags to track them across the city.”
“Is that legal?”
“Mostly, if you have the right license.” Taking my final bite of dinner, I smile. “This is really good, by the way. My brother’s housekeeper Lurlene makes dinner like this, and I’ve been missing it.”
“Oh, you’re too kind. It’s just a simple pot roast.”
“Simple to you.” I wink, and she waves me away.
Dr. Bowerman stands. “It’s that type of real-world experience that gives our students a view of the criminal mind they can’t find in a textbook.”
Standing, I follow him into the living room. “It’s true. The books make our work sound very simple, follow the steps and find the solution. In real life, it’s a lot messier, a lot more guesswork, more unanswered questions.”
I don’t add it’s exactly where we left that case, once Hugh declared it closed—so many unanswered questions.
A warm fire is in the hearth, and while it’s early in the season for a fire, it’s a homey touch. He offers me a brandy, but I decline. I have to drive back to campus tonight. He offers to let me sleep in one of his sons’ old rooms, but again I decline.
We spend a little while longer discussing my adjustment to campus life and the rewards of shaping young minds. The more we talk, the shittier I feel. He’s so proud of me, and he has no idea I’ve royally let him down.
After an hour, I’m ready to drive home. He walks me to the door, offering more words of encouragement as a new faculty member.