Chapter 25
Interview Room — Jackson County Sheriff’s Office
By the time they got Keller in, the snowplows had carved narrow lanes through the main roads. Anything off the highway was still a mess. Keller sat across from them, shoulders rigid, eyes red-rimmed. His coat was still damp at the cuffs, like he’d come straight off the road and into the chair.
Burke opened the file.
“Professor Keller. We need to clear up inconsistencies from your first statement.”
Keller’s mouth flattened. “Inconsistencies.” He huffed out a breath. “Roads are barely passable. So let’s not waste time.”
Tessa didn’t blink. “You said your relationship with Lauren Pierce was professional.”
“It was,” Keller said. “At first.”
Burke nodded once. “Then what changed?”
Keller looked down at his hands. “After Benton, she wasn’t herself. She was humiliated. I tried to help.”
“You slept with her,” Tessa said.
A long pause.
“Yes,” Keller admitted. “Once.”
“Once?” Scout asked quietly from the wall.
Keller’s brow furrowed. “Twice.”
Tessa leaned forward. “You told her you were separated.”
“I thought I was,” Keller snapped. Then softer: “My wife and I were… done.”
“But you weren’t divorced,” Tessa said.
“No.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Melissa got pregnant. It complicated things.”
Burke flipped a page. “Did your wife find out about Lauren?”
Keller let out a short, hollow laugh. “Not from me. Lauren said she was going to tell her herself.”
“When?” Tessa asked.
“The week before she disappeared.” His voice thinned. “She came to my office furious. Said she wasn’t going to be a secret anymore.”
Tessa’s gaze didn’t waver. “Was Lauren pregnant?”
Keller went completely still.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Still.
Burke slid a photo across the table. A cheap drugstore test kit. A yellow sticky note with one word written in black ink:
Pregnant?
Keller stared at it.
“She told me,” he said quietly.
The room went silent.
“When?” Tessa asked.
“The fundraiser,” Keller replied. “In the service hallway. She said she’d taken a test that morning. Said it was positive.”
Scout pushed off the wall. “And?”
He looked like a man doing math he didn’t like the answer to. “My wife was four months pregnant. I had a toddler at home. My tenure review was in the spring.” He looked up, eyes raw. “Do you understand what that would’ve done to me?”
Burke didn’t blink. “Tell us.”
“It would’ve destroyed everything,” Keller said. Not dramatic. Just factual. “My marriage. My position. My career. My family.” A beat. “And hers.”
Tessa’s tone sharpened. “Did you threaten her?”
“No.” The answer came fast. “I told her we needed to handle it carefully.”
“Carefully how?” Burke asked.
“I asked if she’d seen a doctor. If she was sure. I told her she couldn’t just walk in here and drop a bomb like that.” His throat worked. “She said she wasn’t asking me for anything.”
Scout’s voice was quiet. “What happened after that?”
“She walked back into the ballroom.” Keller’s gaze drifted somewhere distant. “I didn’t see her again.”
A beat.
Burke leaned forward slightly. “Did you kill Lauren Pierce, Professor?”
Keller’s eyes snapped up. For a split second, something flickered—fear, calculation, guilt.
Then he shook his head. “No.”
Scout didn’t look away. “Did you get rid of her?”
“No.”
Another beat.
Keller swallowed hard.
“Sinclair.”
Tessa stilled. “Professor Sinclair.”
Keller nodded once. “He was obsessed with her.”
“Obsessed how?” Tessa asked.
“Mentor. Confidant. Savior.” Keller’s voice turned brittle. “She spent hours in his office. He fed her that vulnerability-and-truth routine. He likes secrets. He likes control.”
Scout’s tone cooled. “You think he hurt her.”
“I think he’s capable,” Keller said. “He believes he’s the hero in every story.”
Burke studied him. “You and Sinclair ever have issues?”
Keller’s expression tightened. “He thinks I’m reckless.”
“In what way?” Tessa asked.
Keller gave a thin smile. “Sinclair doesn’t approve of… complications. He carries himself like he’s above all that. Holier-than-thou. Clean hands. Clean conscience.”
Scout’s tone stayed neutral. “And you?”
“I think he’s an arrogant prick,” Keller said flatly. “He loves the sound of his own voice. Loves being the moral compass in every room. He plays mentor, but it’s theater. Always has been.”
Burke didn’t react. “Personal friction isn’t motive.”
“Maybe not.” Keller’s jaw tightened. “But don’t mistake polish for virtue.”
Scout’s voice cut in. “Sounds personal.”
Keller gave a small, controlled smile. “You think you know me, Deputy. You don’t.”
Burke closed the file. “We’ll bring Sinclair in.”
Keller leaned forward slightly, voice lowering just enough to pull them in.
“Don’t underestimate him,” he said. “He won’t argue. He won’t push back. He’ll make you doubt your own questions.”
A beat.
“And by the time you remember why you came, he’ll already be done with you.”
Outside the Interview Room — Minutes Later
Burke stepped away to make a call.
Scout stood beside Tessa, eyes on the glass. “He’s unraveling.”
“He’s scared,” Tessa said.
Scout glanced at her. “Of us?”
“Of what’s coming.”
A pause.
She drew in a slow breath. “Scout… I need to talk to you about Kyle.”
He didn’t move. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Scout—”
“We were trapped. It happened. End of story.”
“There’s nothing to get in between,” she said.
His eyes finally met hers.
“It didn’t look like nothing.”
A beat.
“And I don’t do half-measures.”
Then he walked off.
Tessa let the moment burn, then forced her gaze back to the glass.
Lauren and Sara.
That was what mattered.