Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,30
for him this is all about damage control.” She shook her head. “Someone whacked an FBI source, and they don’t want people to know, so he’s been told to find a way to sweep everything under the rug. You know the Marshals claim that they’ve never lost anyone in the WITSEC program? At least no one who”—she did air quotes with her fingers—“‘followed the rules of the program.’ It’s a point of pride for them.”
“So, you’re thinking what?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Maybe one reason the feds were so eager to wrestle this thing away from us is they want to prove the victim screwed up somehow, and this whole thing is her fault. Then they can save face and maintain their bragging rights.”
“That was my read, too,” Jacob said. “Getting an arrest is secondary.”
“And getting justice for this victim is even lower on his list, if it’s on there at all.”
Jacob nodded. “We’re on the same page. But we have to work fast and under the radar. As soon as we catch another homicide case, it’s going to be much harder to dedicate time to this thing, and the trail is growing colder by the minute.”
“So, we’ll work it fast and quiet with no resources to back us up,” Kendra said. “Easy peasy.”
“Say the word if you want out.”
“Forget it. I’m in.”
* * *
* * *
BAILEY RUSHED ACROSS Guadalupe Street as the light flashed red. A glance at the clock tower told her she was late for her interview. She’d overslept this morning and been late to the staff meeting, which had gone by in a blur. Everything felt off-kilter today, and she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss with Jacob in his truck.
She needed to focus. She needed to nail this interview and get back to the newsroom with the ingredients for a kick-ass story. Max had let her devote four full days to this thing to the exclusion of everything else, and he wanted results.
Bailey sliced through throngs of summer school students and took the concrete steps two at a time when she reached the student union. She hurried across the grassy mall, passing the flagpole where a woman had huddled in terror one hot August day as a sniper at the top of the tower aimed a hunting rifle at students, picking them off one by one. Bailey’s grandmother had been on campus at the time, strolling down Guadalupe with her girlfriends when the first shots rang out and people started dropping. Dede had taken shelter in a shop and ripped up dresses to bandage the wounded as they waited for ambulances that couldn’t get through the barrage of bullets. The gunman killed sixteen people before being taken out by a pair of Austin cops, and to this day—more than fifty years later—Dede got a tremor in her voice whenever she talked about it.
The story had made an impression on Bailey. It had prompted her to comb through newspaper clippings and yellowed Life magazines and ultimately sparked her interest in journalism.
She didn’t look at the clock tower now as she rushed across the mall to the gnarled oak tree in front of Mezes Hall. A woman with long auburn hair and a loose cotton dress stood beside a stroller. She waved at Bailey.
“Dr. Camden?”
“Call me Celeste.”
They shook hands, and Bailey smiled at the chubby-cheeked girl in the stroller. She clutched an Elmo sippy cup in her hands and regarded Bailey with big brown eyes.
“This is Jillian. She just turned two.” Her mom beamed down at her, but her look turned wary as she glanced around. “The sitter’s meeting us here before my 1:10 class, so I’m afraid I don’t have much time.”
“Thanks for meeting me. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked down at Jillian. “I almost didn’t come. It’s been so awful, but . . .”
She swiped her cheeks, and Bailey waited for her to compose herself.
“She was such a sweet person. I can’t believe this happened.”
A pair of students vacated a bench and Bailey stepped over to claim it. She set down her messenger bag, and Celeste pushed the stroller over. She set her big leather tote bag on the bench but didn’t sit.
“I understand you called the police on Monday morning,” Bailey said. “Do you remember what time?” Bailey had this information already, but she’d found it was better to start with easy questions.
Celeste took a deep breath and nodded. “I was getting ready for work.