Chapter 52
“What’s with the printer thing?” Vaughn asked.
Darnell grabbed the printout, which Vaughn now saw seemed to be random words. The ol’ lorem ipsum Latin placeholder text repeated over and over. Then Darnell produced the ad that had been in Josh Perry’s possession. Darnell held them side by side.
“Bowes told me a couple of months back that printed pages are like fingerprints—they can be matched to the exact printer.”
“C’mon, you can’t honestly think that the man we saw back there had anything to do with these murders.”
Darnell shrugged.
“I dunno . . . math games . . . being at the site? That creepy mask?”
Vaughn pressed his lips together.
“C’mon, Darnell.”
“Maybe it’s his daughter.”
“For fuck’s sake. She’s helping us.”
“She’s inserting herself into the case. Guiding us where she wants us to go, where to look. Sure, she might be helping us, but maybe she’s also helping him.”
Again, Vaughn found himself entertaining his partner’s ludicrous theories. Couldn’t help it.
“We went to her, we asked her about the crime scenes, not the other way around.”
Darnell refused to give it up.
“Yeah, sure, but why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did we go to her?”
“Because she knows math?”
Darnell shook his head.
“No, we went to her because when I started looking up prime numbers, she was the first name to pop up.”
Now Vaughn understood. Didn’t agree, though.
“You can’t possibly think she posted that video herself so that we would notice her. Besides, even if there was no video, we would have probably eventually gone to the math department to help us out.”
Darnell tilted his head dramatically.
Vaughn hated when his partner did this. Somehow tricked you into saying what he was thinking, then twisting it around.
“To the math department, yes, but probably not specifically to her. I know you’ve got a thing for her, Vaughn. Don’t let that—”
“I don’t have a thing for her.”
“Yeah, right,” he scoffed. “We should interview her. Find out if Ivy has an alibi for the past two nights.”
The last thing Vaughn wanted was for Darnell to speak to Ivy.
“I’ll tell you what: I’ll drop you at the station to get Bowes to do his forensic printer shit. I’ll speak with Ivy.”
Darnell winked.
“Private time. I get it.”
As Darnell was getting out of the car, Vaughn thought about changing his mind. If Delaney was still hanging around, things could get ugly.
“Darnell?”
The man turned.
“Yeah?”
Vaughn’s partner was momentarily unguarded. Like in the car when Vaughn had torn a strip off him, he saw the real Darnell. The one who was hurting so badly that the only way he could get through the day was to drink, crack inappropriate jokes, and lash out. And drink some more.
“Earth to Vaughn?”
“Stay away from Delaney, okay?”
“Wouldn’t go near that little shit with a ten-foot pole.”
As long as you stay out of arm’s reach, Vaughn thought as he drove off.
Being the middle of a weekday, Vaughn assumed that Ivy was at work. Decided to call ahead just to make sure. Vaughn was surprised when a man answered the number that he’d found in the campus directory for Ivy’s office. He identified himself as her TA, Tristan Coates.
The response he got when asking for Ivy perplexed Vaughn even more.
“What do you mean she’s on temporary leave?” Vaughn asked. “I just saw her yesterday.”
“I’m just telling you what I was told by the department head. Dr. Reeves is on temporary leave until further notice.”
His first thought was that after what had happened with her father and the gun-toting Delaney, Ivy had taken a personal day. But “temporary leave until further notice” sounded more disciplinary than voluntary.
“Listen, Tristan, any way you can give me Ivy’s home address?”
“I’m not supposed to do that.”
“I get it, but it’ll save me time. She’s a special consultant on a case we’re working.” Vaughn pictured Captain Daniels’s red face as he said this. “If I have to call the math department and go through regular channels—”
“You said you were a detective?”
“Yeah, I saw you the other day in her office. I’m Detective Vaughn Ryan with the PPD.” Vaughn gave his badge number too, hoping to reassure the man.
“Hold on a second.”
The phone muted. Vaughn tapped his foot as he waited. Grew impatient.
Figuring that Ivy probably lived close to Fine Hall where she worked, he started driving in that direction.
Tristan came back on the line.
“Okay, your name and badge number check out.”
He gave Vaughn Ivy’s home address.
“Appreciate it.”
Vaughn hung up and stepped on the gas a little.
Something felt off about this.
About all of this.