Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Levi
“Got any plans for the weekend?” Tristan asked as we made our way toward Professor Exton’s office.
For once I did, but talking about them was bound to make me more nervous than I already was.
I saw the moment of panic on Everly’s face after she suggested meeting at my house.
It only lasted a heartbeat, and before I could think of an alternative suggestion that wouldn’t make it seem like I didn’t want her in my space, she doubled down and asked for my address.
I’d given it to her and then spent the rest of the week more excited than a kid at Christmas.
Not that I showed it. At least I hoped not.
“Not much. Just working on the Springboard event,” I said.
“Well, that explains it,” Tristan said, fighting a smile.
“Explains what?”
“Why you’ve been wound so tight this week. I thought maybe being out of uniform had you feeling some type of way.”
After arresting Wythers, Tris and I talked it over with Chief and decided it was best if we ditched the uniforms while on campus.
Having a visible police presence was a good deterrent, and as much as I wanted the dealing on campus to stop, we needed the activity to trace the supplier.
We were known to campus police, so the uniform was no longer necessary to avoid any confusion or pissing matches should we make a plainclothes arrest.
“I was undercover more than I wasn’t once I made detective,” I said with a huff.
“No shit?” Tristan said.
As expected, the tidbit of my past deflected the conversation from Springboard and my plans with a certain attorney. When we pushed open the doors to the Criminal Justice Department building, no one looked our way.
“It really is like being a student again,” Tristan said, shaking his head.
“Can’t say I feel the same,” I said, smiling.
Tristan knocked on a door marked Department Chair and waited. That was news to me. I didn't know Exton was in charge of the whole department.
“Tristan,” the professor said, opening the door. “Officer Stafford. Come in.”
“Please call me Levi,” I said, shaking his hand again.
“Only if you call me Joel,” he said. “You too, Tristan. You’re not a student anymore, and if I ever convince you to get your master’s, all my graduate students call me by my first name.”
“I don’t think I can do that, Professor,” Tristan said with a laugh.
“Give it time,” he said and motioned us to the chairs in front of his desk. “So, you wanted to speak with me?”
“Yes,” I said, jumping right in. I had no idea how busy the man was or how long I had to convince him to help.
I wanted this win for Everly. She’d been so disappointed when we hadn’t gotten anyone signed up last week.
“I’m helping a local group called Springboard, which hosts an event in the park every Spring to match ex-cons with businesses and housing opportunities.
We could really use help the day of, and I thought it might be a good way for your students to see—” What?
A bunch of people like the ones they’re likely to arrest or represent in the future.
“The positive outcomes of rehabilitation.”
Positive outcomes? That sounded cold even to me.
“Really?” Professor Exton said. “I hate to say it, but I’ve never heard of the group. The campus is like its own world, and I live about twenty minutes from town. How do you think it could benefit my students?”
Tristan raised his eyebrows at me, and I nodded. Clearly my pitch sounded as weak to him as it did to me.
“Like you said, Professor,” Tristan said. “The college is kind of its own place. The Springboard event will give students an opportunity to be part of the Peace Falls community. And community involvement will probably be an essential part of their jobs, right, Levi?”
“It’s the reason I’m helping with the event,” I said, deciding my best option was just to be honest. “I’m a bit of an outsider too.”
“How so?” Exton asked, his interest clearly on me and not the event.
“I moved here a year ago,” I said.
“You were a narcotics detective in Richmond,” Exton said, confirming my suspicion that his earlier question was meant to get me talking rather than telling him something he didn’t already know.
I nodded.
“An excellent one,” Exton said. “If what I’ve read about your career there is any indication.”
“Couldn’t have asked for a better mentor my rookie year,” Tristan said, knocking my shoulder. “I’ve learned more being partnered with him than some guys learn in years on the job.”
Exton acknowledged Tristan with a nod and turned to me. “The event sounds like a worthwhile opportunity, but I’m hesitant to involve the entire department until I see it myself.”
Which made complete sense. I got ready to thank him for his time when he started talking again.
“However, I’d love for you to visit my undergraduate class and give a presentation on your experience.”
“With the event?” I asked. That’d be a very short presentation.
“Your experience in law enforcement,” Exton said. “I’ll leave it up to you to decide the content. I think they’d appreciate hearing from someone in the field instead of an old academic like me. You can pitch the event then, and I’ll even offer them extra credit for volunteering.”
“That’s a great idea, Professor,” Tristan said like he was the one who needed extra credit.
“Come with him, Tristan,” Exton said. “You can share what it’s like to be a rookie cop.”
“Oh, I doubt they’d want to hear about that,” Tristan said, his cheeks flushing.
“I’d be happy to visit your class with Tris,” I told Exton.
“You can practice your public speaking skills,” the professor added to my partner. “Those have always been a challenge for you.”
“You’re both not letting this go, are you?” Tristan asked, looking between his former advisor and me.
The professor and I exchanged grins, and Tristan sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I guess your students might be more comfortable asking me questions to get the discussion going since we’re basically the same age.”
We checked our calendars and found a time in March that worked for everyone.
“I’ll see you both soon,” Exton said as we left.
“I can’t believe you two got me to agree to speaking in front of a class,” Tristan grumbled. “I’m not even the one volunteering for Springboard.”
“But Exton’s right. Your public speaking skills are a little rough.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tristan said as we started across the quad.
I spotted someone by one of the dorm buildings that had me stopping in my tracks. “What’s he doing here?”
“Who?” Tristan asked.
“Guy by the door to the Mulligan building.”
Tristan looked over at the man and frowned. “I don’t know him. Do you?”
“Cammie’s ex-boyfriend. He lives in South Carolina. There’s no good reason for him to be here now.”
Tristan looked back at me. “You’ve got a bad feeling about him, don’t you?”
I nodded.
The guy looked our direction and tensed a moment before relaxing back to how he’d been standing before.
“You see that?” Tristan asked. “We’re not even in uniform.”
“I did.” I was impressed he had too, though now wasn’t the time to tell him. People doing illegal things got nervous when they saw cops. Seasoned criminals knew to hide it. Professional criminals had a knack for spotting law enforcement, whether or not they were in uniform. “Let’s talk to him.”
“Morning,” the guy said as we approached. He went by a nickname. Something royal. Or chess related.
“You a student here?” Tristan asked, showing the guy his badge.
“Just waiting for a friend,” he said.
“Can I see your ID?” Tris asked.
“No,” the guy said, narrowing his eyes. “And you have no reason to ask for it. I’m just standing here.”
He was right. That he knew we couldn’t force him to show ID confirmed my suspicion that he’d interacted with cops before. The name hit me out of nowhere, and I smiled.
“That won’t be necessary, Bishop.”
His cool facade cracked, and his eyes widened. “How the fuck you know my name?”
“I make it my business to know the people who don’t belong here,” I said. “What brings you back to town? I hope you’re not here to see Cammie.”
He recovered quickly from his surprise and puffed out his chest like an overgrown gorilla. “Told you. Meeting a friend.”
“Male or female?” I asked.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but a guy,” he said. “Cammie won’t even know I’m here, if that’s what you’re worried about. Neither will the little bitch she was with last summer.”
The way he studied me suggested he might have remembered me too from the day he met Cam in the park. We hadn’t spoken, though if he was as bad as I thought he was, he’d probably clocked me then as law enforcement.
I nodded. “You and I both know the guy she’s with can hold his own. Fair warning, he’s a student here.”
Bishop let out a huff. “Figures. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll text my friend to meet me somewhere else.”
With that, he sauntered off toward a nearby parking lot.
“That guy is shady as fuck,” Tristan said, watching him go.
I raised my phone and snapped a picture of Bishop when he turned back to see if we were watching. He frowned at us and kept walking.
“I’m sending this to campus police and asking them to keep an eye out for him,” I said, already forwarding the image.
“Yeah, we should show everyone at the station too. That guy sets off all my alarms.”
I nodded. “Let’s go.”
I’d also be calling Wyatt and Cammie. No way in hell was I taking Bishop’s word that he wasn’t here to stir up trouble with his ex. Regardless, whatever reason brought that asshole back into town wasn’t good.