It's Never too Late - By Tara Taylor Quinn Page 0,96
fact that your Montford University education might be in question.”
He nodded, not quite sure what was going on.
“Ordinarily I wouldn’t have anything to do with such things, but because there was an investigation—and I believe it’s best that the reasons for the investigation remain private—I am here to tell you that your education is not in jeopardy.”
A brick fell from his shoulders. He hadn’t even known it was there.
“Really?” He said the word like a cool guy who didn’t give a damn when he felt anything but cool inside.
“You were administered an IQ test the day you met with your guidance counselor.”
“An aptitude test,” he clarified. “To assess my best course of study.”
The sheriff shook his head. “Montford uses the exam sometimes to help with student placement when other test scores are unavailable, but it is a nationally accredited IQ exam.”
So? Mark wasn’t following any of this.
“IQ scores are kept confidential, and because they are not part of the official entrance qualifications, those scores are not included in any admittance files. However, they are on file in the guidance office.”
Mark stood, without moving, summing up this man that Addy knew—even if just as a professional acquaintance.
“The particular IQ test you were administered is a legally accepted test that allows the university to override all other entrance qualifications, assuming the score is high enough.”
Hot damn.
“You came out here to tell me I have a high IQ, Sheriff?”
“I’m here to tell you that the files you saw regarding your education have been destroyed and to inform you that any doubts placed on your right to be studying at the university or your right to the funds you’ve been awarded no longer exist.”
“Addy sent you.”
“I’m not at liberty to say how I came to know about your knowledge of the files. However, I will tell you that Ms. Keller did inform the university on your behalf that they would be putting themselves in jeopardy of a huge lawsuit if they denied your education after they’d let you enroll. However, the point was moot.”
She’d turned on the people who’d hired her?
For him?
“It was important to her that you be told right away,” the man said then, his gaze serious.
Mark got the message.
“Sheriff?” Greg Richards had started to walk away but turned back.
“The other names on that list...were they like me, legitimately allowed entrance due to criteria not noted in the admittance papers?”
“Yes.”
“All eleven of them?”
“Yes.”
So whatever lawsuit implications Addy had been hired to find were gone. Did that mean she was out of a job? Or that she’d be around longer while she kept looking?
She’d gone to the wall for him.
“One more thing.”
“Sure.” Richards stood casually, looking as if he’d stay there all day if Mark asked.
“Where would a guy go if he wanted to find out information on a fire that took place, probably in Colorado, at the Keller home a quarter of a century ago.” He’d been thinking a lot about that fire. About Addy’s aloneness.
The sheriff’s easy expression tightened. “I’d leave that one alone.”
“You know about it?” That shocked him. He’d had the impression he’d been the only one Addy had told about the tragedy.
The man appeared to consider his next words carefully and then said, “It happened here. Addy was born in Shelter Valley.”
He could feel the truth shudder through him. And so much made sense. The recurrence of a nightmare she hadn’t had for years. Her need to talk about something that had happened so long ago.
The breakdown on her back porch...
She’d been reliving the past because she’d come face-to-face with it.
Had she been out to her old neighborhood? Seen where the fire had taken place?
Had she borne that pain all alone?
Realizing that the sheriff of Shelter Valley had just gone out on a limb for him, understanding small-town protocol, Mark asked, “Is that why she was here...brought in to investigate whatever threats had been made? She knew someone involved?”
“Will Parsons.”
“The university president, Will Parsons?”
“His family took her in after the fire....”
Mark came from a small close-knit town. And knew what he had to do. “I’d guess, since she’s so well situated, there’d be a way to get hold of the case file on that fire.”
Greg Richards frowned. “What are you getting at?”
“The memory of that night haunts her, Sheriff. I don’t know what I can do to change that, but...I’d like to try.” It was the right thing to do. Friends looked out for each other. A favor for a favor... “I was the fire investigator back in