Chapter 4
AN INNOCENT MAN
PATIENCE
Molly Irsite—
Case modified from suicide to murder.
The sentence sticks in my mind as I scan a book in my hand. The rest of the class is at the tables, digging through the case file, but I’ve wandered to the stacks to get some clarification before I do the same.
I’m still trying to figure out why we’ve been assigned such a simple case.
This internship is supposed to be a challenge, and Professor Gray begins by handing us a case he solved in under twenty-four hours.
On top of that, it doesn’t appear that anything was redacted.
Unless he didn’t pull entire documents, the full investigation is in our packets.
The crime scene analysis. The toxicology report. The arrest warrant for Haven Matthews, the man who was sentenced for Molly’s overdose.
It doesn’t make sense for Professor Gray to turn over such a neat assignment, which makes me wonder what he expects us to find.
On the surface, the case is simple.
Molly was a twenty-one-year-old college student majoring in social sciences. Her social life was nearly nonexistent. Apart from studying and working, she spent most of her free time with her boyfriend, Ezra Stone.
He’s the one who found her body in the bathroom of their shared apartment.
At first, authorities labeled her death an accidental overdose.
She had recently admitted to a school counselor that she was experiencing panic attacks, and they assumed she had turned to drugs to cope.
It wasn’t until Professor Gray assessed the scene that they suspected anyone else’s involvement, which ultimately led them to Haven Matthews.
Haven confessed almost immediately. He claimed he and Molly were having an affair, but that the drugs started to make her paranoid.
She was worried Ezra and others would find out.
Haven asked her to leave Ezra, but she refused, spiking his own jealousy.
That night, he offered her the dose that killed her.
He was sentenced to ten years in prison but was found hanging in his cell a week later.
Case shut and closed.
Professor Gray’s name is nowhere on any of the documents, just like he said.
If he did, in fact, help authorities tie Haven to the murder of Molly, then it was kept out of all the reports.
It’s possible local agencies wanted to take all the credit, or that, given his age, he was too new to be notable.
But it leaves me wondering what else was left out.
“Chemical compounds?” Professor Gray’s voice comes from my right, and I jump, almost dropping the book in my hand.
I spin to see him casually leaning against the library stacks with his hands tucked into his pockets.
Like on the plane, he’s wearing an understated pair of gray slacks and a white button-down shirt.
His sleeves are rolled up to reveal his ridiculous forearms. To make matters worse, the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, showing the perfect tease of his solid chest.
A chest I’m too familiar with, given I fell into his lap and got a really good feel of it.
Blood floods my cheeks, and I spin to face the stacks again, shoving the book I was scanning onto the shelf and hoping he didn’t see me blush.
I cannot be having these kinds of thoughts about my professor. He’s thirty-seven, almost twice my age. And he’s a man I’ve revered for his work in the high-profile criminal psychology cases I’ve studied over the past couple of years.
I will not indulge in these fantasies.
“I’m double-checking the chemical components of the drug Molly was given before I continue looking at the rest of the file.”
“And you think that matters?” Professor Gray doesn’t step closer, but his low voice manages to rattle me like he’s whispering in my ear.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Walk me through your thought process then.” He lifts off the bookshelf and steps closer.
Across the library, I spot Violet watching us with an encouraging smile. But she quickly drops her attention back to her book when Jacob glances to see what I’m looking at.
“My thought process?” I clear my throat, pulling his attention back to me so it doesn’t linger on Violet’s insinuating grin.
He turns to face me. “The toxicology report clearly stated it was heroin.”
“And heroin is never laced with anything?” I cross my arms over my chest, angling my chin up.
I’m usually better about holding my tongue for respected mentors, but something about Professor Gray sets me on edge.
Between his beautifully blinding smile and the mocking challenge in his tone, I can’t help myself.
I need to prove why I’m here, and that just because he saw my weakness on the plane, it doesn’t mean I can’t handle this program.
He needs to see the girl he accepted into this internship, not the one who clung to a seat cushion like it would stop her from dying if the plane plummeted.
While Violet will have no problem impressing him over the next eight weeks, school has always been more difficult for me.
I work twice as hard and barely keep up.
I tighten my jaw, staring up at Jacob.
Not Jacob.
Professor Gray.
“The chemical analysis didn’t show anything unusual laced in the heroin.” His head angles as he watches me. “It’s in the report I gave you. The report everyone else in class is still reading so they don’t double their work.”
“Maybe I’m not everyone else.”
His green eyes flash, edging between amusement and irritation. “Clearly.”
“And I’m aware of what the chemical analysis said. I read it already. But it also said that Molly’s levels of hCG were heightened. Which left me wondering…”
His eyes narrow the slightest, but I wouldn’t call it a glare. He’s assessing me. Seeing if I’m worth his time for this conversation, most likely.
“What were you wondering?” Professor Gray urges me to continue.
“HCG is a sign of pregnancy, but it wasn’t noted in the autopsy report.”
“Because they found no fetus.”
“But if she recently had a miscarriage, it could alter the motive. She was having an affair. What if the baby had been Haven’s? What if he wasn’t the one who killed her, but it was the jealous boyfriend?”
“The case is closed, Patience. Your assignment is to figure out how we got from a suicide to a murder conviction, not to challenge the outcome.”
“Are you saying that just because he was found guilty, I’m not allowed to be thorough?”
“That’s what trials are for. A trial where the verdict was already issued in this case.”
“So there are no innocent men and women in prison?”
“You think Haven was innocent?”
“I think killers usually try to cover their tracks, and his confession was too easy.”
Professor Gray shifts closer, and I get a hit of his cologne. He really shouldn’t be allowed to smell like that when teaching class.
“Unless—” I continue, right as he opens his mouth to say something. “The hCG levels were elevated for another reason. Like a reaction to something laced in the heroin. If that’s the case, then my entire argument is irrelevant, and we’re back to the beginning.”
“Do you enjoy running in circles, Patience?” The tease of a smirk hints at the corner of his mouth.
“I enjoy finding the truth. Not assuming that someone else is correct just because that’s how they’ve presented it to me.”
I shift on my feet, finding my knees weaker the longer he stares at me.
But I refuse to let him see it. At this rate, I’m already pushing my luck by challenging my professor on the first day of the program.
If I’m not careful, he’ll send me back to Briar before I get halfway through this assignment.
“It’s interesting.” He stands up taller; his gaze stays trained on mine. “On the plane, you were so quick to assume everyone was a killer—myself included—I figured you were entering the program a bit more jaded. Especially given our spirited conversation.”
“Did you know who I was on the plane?” My whole chest burns up as he moves even closer.
We really shouldn’t be standing this close.
It’s teetering on the line of what’s appropriate.
Anyone could turn the corner and think something about how he’s looking at me.
Most of the other students have started to leave for the night, or are scattered around the library, but there are a few left.
Like Violet, who keeps looking up at us as she pretends to read.
I’ve worked hard to earn respect, and I refuse to have it wiped away with one rumor that I’m screwing a professor for better grades.
“Yes, I knew who you were,” he answers honestly.
I don’t know why I expected him to lie. Maybe it’s that I’ve spent so long around college students, specifically Sigma Sin, and they lie about everything. I don’t have a high opinion of men. Or anyone, for that matter.
“Why didn’t you say anything then? If you knew I was your student, why didn’t you tell me?” My voice cracks, and his gaze falls to my mouth.
Weakness.
And Jacob caught it.
Professor Gray. Not Jacob.
He’s too close and warm. And his eyes are swimming with secrets that I’m dying to figure out, but I shouldn’t.
I take a step back, wishing my chest didn’t pang with disappointment at the gap that’s now between us. “Why didn’t you tell me who you are?”
“That’s a good question.” He clears his throat.
“One you’re going to answer?”
The only response I get is a cool grin that stretches his face. It’s disarming and makes every strand of hair on my scalp prickle. Suddenly, my ponytail is too tight. My cotton shirt is scratchy. Every sensation is too much.
“Good work so far on the assignment.” Professor Gray takes a step back, ignoring my question entirely. “Let me know what you discover. I’d hate to think I helped orchestrate the demise of an innocent man.”
Professor Gray turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the library stacks to digest that comment. In all this arguing, I didn’t think about the fact that I’m essentially going against his work. Work I’m sure he checked more than once.
Still, when he stops at the tables near Violet, his eyes meet mine a final time. And a single word plays like a music box tune repeating in my mind.
Orchestrate.