12. Erik
ERIK
Rowan is still holding out her phone when I open the conference-room door. The reception continues at the other end of the corridor, which means whoever accessed Tyler Garcia's disciplinary file at nine-fourteen did it while hundreds of people could place me here.
Makari answers on the second ring. I keep Rowan beside me while we walk toward the service stairs rather than return through the ballroom. "Someone opened Garcia's disciplinary file from my administrative account four minutes after Rowan and I left the reception."
His silence lasts less than a second. "Where are you now?"
"Second-floor west corridor. I haven't been in my office since this afternoon." I look at Rowan before continuing. "Harper caught the access. I need the session preserved before anyone closes it."
Rowan reaches for the phone. "Tell him not to remotely terminate anything yet."
I hand it to her.
"Makari, whoever is using the account might still be active." Rowan slows near the stairwell door. "If you kill the session, we lose whatever they do next. Preserve the access logs, contact IT security through someone Erik trusts, and have them isolate the activity without alerting the user."
Makari doesn't object to receiving instructions from her anymore. "I'll get Liya on the university side. Where's Erik?"
"Standing beside me and being remarkably quiet."
"I'm listening." I take the phone back when she offers it. "Find out whether the access originated remotely."
"I'll call you." The line disconnects.
Rowan opens the stairwell door, then stops before stepping through. "You filed a blanket recusal from anything involving me, Callie, the spirit program, and anything disciplinary that could touch us."
"Yes."
She waves a hand. "Tyler's file isn't covered by the wording unless his complaint or conduct involves me."
"It does now."
She presses her lips together and continues down the stairs. Her dress and heels aren't meant for a concrete service stairwell, but she takes the steps quickly. I stay close without touching her, just in case she stumbles.
I understand the implication she hasn't stated yet. Someone using my credentials to access Tyler's file could make it appear that I retaliated against him less than an hour after a public confrontation over Rowan. My recusal would turn a bad appearance into a deliberate violation.
At the bottom landing, Rowan looks back at me. "If that access gets attached to what happened on the terrace, it looks terrible."
I nod. "It looks worse than terrible."
"It looks like you used your office to investigate a student because he touched me."
"I didn't."
"I know that." She pushes through the door into the quieter ground-floor corridor. "The problem is proving it before somebody decides the timeline tells a better story."
Richard Caldwell is near the ballroom entrance when we emerge. He sees us heading toward the administrative wing and excuses himself from two donors before intercepting us. "You're leaving your own reception?"
"It's the foundation's reception." I continue walking, forcing him to fall into step beside us. "I need access to my office."
Richard glances at Rowan. "At ten at night?"
She answers before I do. "Someone used Erik's administrative credentials to access a student disciplinary file while he was downstairs."
Richard stops walking.
I turn back. "Tyler Garcia."
His expression changes enough to confirm he understands the problem. "After the terrace?"
"Yes."
Richard looks toward the ballroom, where Tyler is presumably still surrounded by teammates, donors, and witnesses who watched me remove his hand from Rowan. "You need outside counsel involved before morning."
I nod once. "I also need the access preserved before morning. Counsel comes next."
Richard starts walking again. "The building logs will show whether anyone entered the suite."
"They'd better."
The administration building connects to the foundation hall through a glass-enclosed corridor that donors use during major events. Security locks the university side after business hours, but Richard's credentials open it. We cross without attracting attention from the ballroom.
My office suite is dark when we reach the fourth floor. The electronic lock shows green when I use my card, and nothing inside appears disturbed.
Rowan stops just inside the reception area. "Who had physical access tonight?"
I think about it for a second. "My staff left before the reception."
"That isn't what I asked."
I look at the empty assistant's desk and the closed doors beyond it. "Executive administration has override access. Facilities has scheduled access when necessary. Foundation staff can be escorted into the suite."
Richard stays near the door. "Presidential staff can enter if my office authorizes it."
Rowan turns toward him. "Did you?"
"No."
She doesn't challenge him, though I can tell she notes the answer.
My office door is closed. I unlock it and leave the overhead fixtures off until I've checked the room. Nothing has been moved enough to draw attention. My desk looks exactly as it did when I left this afternoon.
Rowan stays behind me until I finish. "If someone accessed the system from here, they didn't come to search the room."
"No."
"They came because the location mattered."
My computer monitor wakes when I touch the keyboard. The system requires my security key in addition to the password, and the key is in my pocket.
Rowan looks at the screen. "There's your multifactor problem."
"They couldn't authenticate a new device without the key."
"Unless they didn't use a new device." She walks around the desk without touching anything. "An existing authenticated session could be proxied through another workstation, depending on how your network is configured."
Richard looks at her. "You know university network architecture now?"
"I know enough evidence law to understand why pretending passwords are magic is stupid."
I almost smile, but Richard doesn't.
Makari calls before the argument develops. I put him on speaker. "We have the session." His voice fills the office. "It didn't originate from outside the university network."
Rowan looks at me.
"Where?" I ask.
"Your suite."
Richard mutters something under his breath and walks toward the windows.
Makari continues. "IT security says the administrative session was proxied from a workstation inside the dean's suite. Whoever did it didn't log into your desktop directly. They used a terminal already trusted by the network and routed the request through your active administrative session."
I look toward the reception area. There are four workstations in the suite besides mine. "Which terminal?"
"They're narrowing it down."
Rowan moves closer to the phone. "Can they determine when the proxy started?"
"Working on it."
"What about building access?"
He taps some keys. "I'm pulling it now."
I end the call after Makari promises an update within twenty minutes.
Richard has moved away from the windows. "You understand what this means."
"Yes."
"It means someone with physical access to this floor is manufacturing evidence against you."
Rowan crosses her arms. "Or accessing information they weren't supposed to have and using Erik's account to hide themselves."
Richard looks at her. "That distinction won't matter to the board."
"It matters to the investigation."
He gives her a long look before turning to me. "You should leave this office exactly as it is and let university security handle it."
"No."
Richard's expression hardens. "Erik."
"University security can preserve the room. They don't control the forensic review."
He scowls. "You're the dean."
"I'm also the person whose credentials were compromised." I take out my phone and send Peter the basic facts. "That makes me evidence, not the investigator."
Rowan looks at me. "That was almost reassuring."
"Almost?"
"You're still standing in the room."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes and step away from the desk.
Her mouth curves before she looks toward Richard. "Who knew Erik would be at the reception all evening?"
He has the answer quickly. "Everyone invited."
"Who knew the office would be empty?"
Richard's irritation gives way to consideration. "His staff, my staff, and foundation administration. Facilities, if there was scheduled work."
I look toward him. "Was there?"
He takes out his phone. "I'll check."
Rowan moves to the doorway and examines the reception area from there. "Nobody needed to break in if they belonged here."
That's the part I dislike most. The people Orell sends to follow Rowan are obvious once we know where to look. Rahil uses threats, vehicles, and armed men because fear is part of his purpose.
Whoever entered my suite tonight chose a university workstation and my credentials. They wanted to look ordinary.
Richard receives an answer and turns his screen toward me. "Facilities had a scheduled appointment from seven-thirty to nine. It was an HVAC control inspection after complaints from your staff about the temperature."
I frown. "I didn't hear any complaints."
"Your assistant submitted it yesterday."
My assistant wouldn't need to tell me about routine building maintenance.
Rowan reads the work order. "Who was assigned?"
"Two facilities employees." Richard scrolls lower. "Both logged out of the building at eight-forty-one."
"That leaves thirty-three minutes before Tyler's file was accessed." She looks at the office door. "Was the suite locked after they left?"
Richard checks another message. "Facilities says the work order was closed, but the suite was left open because an executive office runner was supposed to collect donor packets."
"Whose runner?" I ask.
"Mine." Richard's answer puts him back on the list he was already on. He understands that without my saying it. "My office had a reason to be here."
"So did the foundation," Rowan says. "That's the point."