Rogue Investigation Page 5

  “I’m not going to debate this,” he said. “I’m going to let the officers do their jobs. We don’t know -“

  “How can you say that?” I demanded. “We know! How can you think we don’t?”

  “I’m not going to rush into this just because you have a hunch,” he snapped back. “Rogers wasn’t perfect by any means. We don’t know if there were other people who wanted to kill him. We don’t know any of that.”

  I shook my head, staring at Robert like I had never seen him before. “You’re the smartest man I know,” I said. “Occam's Razor - the simplest explanation is usually the right one.”

  “You can’t reduce a human life to a theory,” Robert said. “It’s too…impersonal. Cold. There’s too much nuance in human life.”

  “You’re wasting time.”

  “I’m being careful.”

  There was no arguing with him, I realized. Not about this.

  Part of me wanted to scream. Wanted to shake him and make him see the truth. Another, smaller part of me knew he did see the truth and this was his fear talking. This was Vic all over again. He didn’t want to be wrong because what if it cost another life?

  The problem was, Dean Rogers was already dead. And the longer Robert took to make sure it was the traitor or a god or whatever else, the more of a chance the murderer would leave, would get away. Or, the sooner they would do it again.

  We couldn’t risk that.

  I couldn’t.

  “I’m going home,” I said.

  “Do you want -“

  “I’ll take the bus,” I said, dropping my gaze to the concrete beneath my feet.

  “Don’t be stubborn, Lara,” he said, taking a step towards me. “You went through a traumatic experience. You need -“

  “You’re the last person to tell me how to handle a traumatic experience,” I said. “You’ve clearly had one. And you haven’t gotten over it. That’s why you are the way you are now. You’re scared to do anything. It’s why the crawler is still not working. You’re scared to try it. You’re scared to see if it’s good enough. But it’ll never be the best if we don’t see how we can fix it. Don’t you get that?”

  Robert clenched his teeth together. His cheek twitched, like I had reached up a hand and clawed at his skin. I was surprised he wasn’t bleeding. I swallowed the guilt that rotted my mouth. I wasn’t going to take it back. Not when it was true.

  “And you, you’re ready to rush into this to make up for your lack of action that day in South Haven.” His words were almost silent, deadlier than anything I had seen him wield before. “You want to rush into everything because it gives you a sense of control. It gives you something to do. Because you think you would have made a difference that day. You think if you had been there, your dad would still be alive. But the truth is, he’d still be dead. The only difference is, you would be too. You think I want to be extra cautious? You want the opposite. You want to run into things like a chicken with her head cut off. You want to play your hand instead of wait for someone to play theirs. Not because you’re clever or because you think you’re going to win. But because you can’t handle holding onto the cards in the first place.”

  I jerked my head back, receiving the blow as well as could be expected.

  “I have to go,” I said.

  I turned and walked around the building, careful not to interrupt the officers canvassing the scene and collecting evidence in little baggies. The body was already gone but I didn’t think I could pass this dumpster without seeing Rogers and his lifeless stare, without smelling the scent of death as it latched onto his body and refused to let go.

  I managed to make it another few feet before I threw up the little contents of my stomach all over the floor.

  It felt weird going home again early. Even my mother was concerned. I told her what happened, though, making sure to leave out the fact that I found the body and how close it was to Robert’s lab. Once she realized the severity of what had happened, she seemed to approve of how kind and understanding Robert was being.

  I bit my tongue to correct her and went to bed.

  Sleep never came, though I didn’t expect it to. The next morning, I went to my class with Robert, though I didn’t linger and he didn’t even look at me during the lecture. Dalton wasn’t present, which I didn’t expect him to be, but I was surprised classes weren’t canceled and couldn’t help but wonder who was in charge now that Dean Rogers was gone.

  “I’m not sure if it’s been stressed enough,” Robert said once he finished his lecture. He gathered up papers from the podium, looking at them rather than his students. “But there are counselors. See ‘em. Talk to someone. This isn’t…this isn’t normal.”

  “We’re being ruled by gods,” someone called from the other side of the lecture hall. “Our world hasn’t been normal for a long time.”

  Whispers followed the students out of the room. It was clear people thought we were being attacked or were going to be. I couldn’t help but listen to their theories, try to apply it to what I already knew.

  “…don’t even know what’s going to happen now,” Charley murmured next to me. She didn’t have a basket of goodies this time, but her crown of flowers were dandelions this time - big, beautiful yellow ones that only seemed to shine down on her blonde hair, making it even lighter. “I mean, how could the dean be gone? Murdered? Just like that? It’s…” She shivered. “Scary.”

  I glanced over at her. “Are you going to the med lab today?” I asked her.

  “Yeah.” She lifted a shoulder and let it drop. We descended the staircase and began to cross Ring Road. “What are you going to do?”

  Before I could respond, my gaze caught sight of the field I had been running around since Logan had yet to allow me the privilege of participating in any sort of physical combat. There was Dalton, running. I couldn’t make out the facial expression on his face, but I was positive he was hurting. And angry. And confused.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. I hung back, looking back at Charley. “I’m hoping to figure out what the hell happened.”

  “Yeah, don’t we all,” she muttered. “Call me if you need anything, Lara. I’m serious.”

  “You too,” I said.

  I watched her cross the greenery for a moment before changing directions and heading to the field. I highly doubt I was the person Dalton wanted to see right now. But I was going to try and offer support. At the very least, I was going to check on him. And if he asked me to leave, if he told me to fuck off, I’d do that too.

  But first, I was going to see how he was doing. And maybe he might have some insight on who was behind his father’s murder.

  Chapter Eight

  I didn’t go to Dalton directly. Instead, I beelined to the locker room and changed into my tracksuit. I wrinkled my nose and made a note to take these home and wash them tonight even if I hated using the community laundry service.

  I tied my hair into a high ponytail, took a breath, and headed out to the field. I didn’t see Logan around, and for that, I was grateful. I didn’t want to have to explain myself to him as to why I was choosing to run of my own free volition.

  Instead, I hurried out of the locker room and began to jog over to the field. I didn’t make it a point to go out of my way and run side by side with him. That was never going to happen. Instead, I ran at my own pace. I was sure Dalton would lap me at some point soon. Even though I had drastically improved my mile speed, I was barely scraping under ten minutes, which needed to change if I was ever going to learn how to defend myself.

  I tried to ignore the way Robert’s words peppered me like gunfire, like I was under attack. We had gotten to know each other in the five or so weeks we had been working together, to the point where he knew exactly where to strike in order to bruise.

  And maybe…maybe I wasn’t completely innocent here either. Maybe I lashed out too, and he was just firing back.

  But still.

  I didn’t like fighting with Robert. I didn’t like being mad at him. I definitely didn’t like when he was mad at me. I didn’t think that should be allowed.

  I just wanted to help. I wanted to make sure another death on this campus, so close to Robert’s lab, didn’t happen. To me, that meant hiring Eddie Ronin to see if he could help uncover who was working with the gods, who revealed the academy to them in the first place. I wanted to know if the traitor killed Rogers, or if a god actually got his hands dirty and did it himself.

  Was that even possible? Would a god really kill a human outside of combat? What if Rogers was the traitor but wanted out? What if he didn’t give his handler the information they practically demanded of him and the god decided he had had enough of Rogers? Or what if the god felt he had enough information and didn’t need Rogers any longer? Where did that leave the academy?

  After Rogers, Robert is the one with the most power, I reminded myself.

  What if Robert was next?

  I nearly tripped over myself at the thought before shaking my head.

  I had to do something. Even if Robert thought I was rushing into it, even if he didn’t agree. I couldn’t do nothing. Because I doubted this ended with Rogers. In fact, I was under the impression that Rogers might be just the beginning.

  “You’re faster.”

  The voice next to me caught me off-guard, and I nearly tripped again. Dalton reached out with his right hand to grab my elbow, helping me retain my balance. Once he knew I wasn’t going to fall, he released me.

  “Huh?” I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I had completely forgotten I was here for a reason, that I was actually running.

  “You’re faster,” he repeated. His lips curved up into a gentle smile. There was strain in it, like he wasn’t used to smiling in the first place. After wh
at had happened to his father, I couldn’t blame him.

  “Oh. Yeah, well.” I shrugged. “I hate running.”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head, staring in front of him. I knew he was going slower to keep his pace with me. I didn’t want him to do that if he didn’t want to. But maybe…maybe he wanted someone to talk to. “I like it. It forces my thoughts to disappear until there’s only quiet in my mind. Kind of like meditation, but with more control.”

  I pursed my lips, nodding. It was difficult for me to say anything because I was running but I didn’t want him to feel like I wasn’t going to talk to him at all. He needed some kind of normalcy right now. At least, that was what I had wanted after my father died. The only person who seemed to understand that was Charley, who went out of her way to bake me food and talk about her obsession with Michael Keaton. It helped ease me back into the world, away from the heavy clouds of mourning that seemed to soothe and overwhelm me all at the same time. I wasn’t sure what would have happened to me if I didn’t have her.

  “I don’t know,” I finally said. I had to take a breath before continuing. “My mind won’t shut up.”

  Dalton cracked a smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I didn’t expect it to.

  For a moment, we were silent. I wanted to tell him he could run faster, that he could ignore me. I didn’t want him to feel obligated to do anything he didn’t want to do. He needed to mourn in whatever way he saw fit. He didn’t need to feel like he had to put on a show to make me feel better about anything.

  “I heard you were the one who found him.” There was a tightness to his voice that came out as harsh.

  I glanced over at him. A rookie mistake. By taking my eyes off the track, I didn’t have the same kind of certain balance underneath my feet. This time, I did trip. I managed to do a roll, scraping my knees, and landing on my tailbone.

  I winced.

  My tailbone had always given me issues ever since I fell on it in my grandfather’s backyard, riding a tricycle before church. It hurt, but it got me out of Sunday school that week.

  Dalton stopped running and came back over to me. Instead of offering me his hand, he plopped on the track next to me. It seemed easy for him to return back to normal breathing. I, on the other hand, was huffing and puffing still, even though I hadn’t been going as fast as he was for as long as he had been.

  “Well?” His tone was gentle, like he didn’t want to push, but there was that inflection of curiosity.

  I nodded, bringing my knees up so I could rest my elbows on them. My hands fell between them and I clasped my fingers together, hanging my head.

  I had never been on this side of things before. When my father died, I was on the inside. I could act however I wanted and it would be excused as me mourning.

  But now?

  I needed to tread carefully. I didn’t want to say the wrong thing. Then again, when I was where Dalton was, everything was the wrong thing. Maybe I shouldn’t go out of my way to say anything at all. Maybe I should just answer his questions as honestly as I could - once I caught my breath, of course.

  “Are you okay?”

  I blinked and turned to face him. He was strikingly beautiful in the way that golden haired, blue-eyed athletes always were, with perfect symmetry and sharp cheekbones. He was the guy that wouldn’t pay any attention to me back in high school, and here he was, close to me, looking me in my eyes, genuine concern in them.

  “What?”

  I wished I was more eloquent in my response. How in the hell could he be going through his trauma and still be concerned about me? Was I really that pathetic? It made no sense.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t exactly easy,” he said tentatively. He leaned back on his palms, right hand picking at the blades of grass. “No one should have to open a dumpster to throw something away and encounter…that.”

  I didn’t correct him. Let him think I was throwing out trash. Let him think the dumpster was closed. I wasn’t going to sit around and say, “Actually, I only noticed because your dad stunk so bad and me and Robert had a huge stupid fight.” I might be having difficulty figuring out the right thing to say, but I knew for sure that that was wrong.

  “Are you okay?” Immediately, I closed my eyes, wincing. “Sorry. That was dumb. Of course you’re not. I’m…” I let my voice trail off and sighed. “Honestly, even though I’ve been in your shoes, I still have no idea what to say to you. I’m not here thinking I can make anything better, but I sure as hell don’t want to make things worse.”

  Dalton chuckled.

  Progress.

  A couple of smiles, and now a chuckle.

  Maybe I wasn’t terrible at this after all.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “Please don’t do that. Don’t thank me. I’m not doing anything anyone else wouldn’t do, except maybe choosing to jog of my own free will.”

  He laughed again. “Actually, you’d be surprised how people are right now,” he said. “My mother can’t stop crying but it’s not because she misses my dad. She’s alone now, you know? My dad did everything - brought money, paid the bills. She has no idea how to do any of that, and never wanted to. My brother refuses to come out of his room, even to attend his school. You know my father refused to let my brother come here? Said he wasn’t good enough?” Dalton scoffed, shaking his head. “And here I am, feeling like I have to take care of both of them without any knowledge of how to go about doing that.”

  “You’re still going through your own loss,” I pointed out, chancing a glance up at him before darting my eyes back to the ground. “Don’t be afraid to take care of yourself too.”

  “I would, but I don’t even know how, you know?” He loosed a breath. “So, here I am, avoiding class because I know everyone here knows about my dad and I refuse to be some sort of spectacle. And yet, staying home makes my entire body heave. I can’t be there. I feel like I’ll never get out. So…I’m running. Because it makes me feel…like I’m doing something productive.” He shook his head again, smiling but not smiling. “I wish I could do something, you know? I heard the officers talking…” He reached up to cup the back of his neck. “It sounds like he was murdered. I mean, if his body was found in the dumpster, that makes sense, right?”

  I pressed my lips together. “Nothing about this makes sense, Dalton,” I said.

  He grunted but didn’t say anything.

  Another long moment stretched into another one, and then another one after that. I was pretty sure we looked ridiculous, sitting on the grass next to the track, chatting, but I didn’t care.

  “You said your dad died?” he asked after a moment. “Any advice? Does it get any better?”

  “No,” I said automatically. My eyes darted over to his, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry.”

  He held up a hand. “No, I appreciate it,” he said. “The honesty.”

  “It gets…easier,” I added, tilting my head to the side as I sprinkled blades of grass against my sneakers. “Not better, but easier.”

  He grunted again.

  “If you could go back…” He swallowed. “Would you change anything?”

  A tear rolled down my cheek. I blinked the rest of them away, surprised one managed to get past me without me realizing it.

  “I would do something about it,” I said. “I would have met him at South Haven. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference -“

  “You don’t know that,” Dalton said, interrupting me. “You don’t know how things might have changed. Maybe you would have died, but maybe…maybe not. Sometimes, even the smallest action can effect change. What do they say? A little goes a long way?”

  I nodded, blinking more tears away.

  “I’m so sorry, Dalton,” I murmured. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  I reached for him, clutching him to me.

  Or maybe he was holding me up. Maybe he was comforting me.

  Which was wrong. All wrong.

  “Me too,” he said in a low voice. “Me too.”