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“Saw Missy once in a while because she worked at the bookstore, and I work at the coffeehouse inside the bookstore. Nice girl. Smart. Don’t know why she’d be running at night alone, especially after what happened to Morgan.” She gave a little shiver. “I’m not going out—I mean, except with my friends.”
All these students were too trusting. “Well, take care…and get yourself some pepper spray.”
The girl’s eyes widened as he turned away and went to the counter, grabbing a bottle of juice on his way. When it was his turn, he leaned in and said, “How long have you been sold out of sympathy cards?”
The kid, Ryan according to his name tag, blinked and ran a hand through his curly hair. “I think for a while, Professor Karlsson. Sold out after Morgan.” He looked left and right, and then leaned in and whispered, “Are you helping with the investigation?”
“Yeah.” Well, wasn’t he?
“I’m sure my manager can give you more info on the cards, like what we stock, when they were ordered and stuff like that. He’s down in the basement, management offices, when he’s not up here, riding our asses.” Ryan’s face colored up to the curls flopping on his forehead as he rang up the juice. “Don’t tell him I said that.”
“I got you. What’s your manager’s name?”
“Deke Macy.” Ryan guffawed. “You can imagine what we call him behind his back.”
“Unfortunate name.” Finn slipped a twenty across the counter. “Thanks, Ryan.”
Finn cracked open the juice as he walked back toward the escalators. The basement of the university bookstore housed the business end of the whole complex, which included the convenience store he’d just left, a coffeehouse, a cookies and ice cream shop, and a business center that offered printers and mailing supplies to this digital generation that didn’t own anything like that.
Fewer students roamed the space down here where older professionals held down the fort. Finn cruised the perimeter until he located the management offices and pushed through the door.
A woman behind a banking type window glanced up at his entrance and pushed her glasses up into her neat Afro. “Hello, can I help you?”
“I’m Finn Karlsson over in criminology. I’m looking for Deke Macy.”
“Oh, hi, Professor Karlsson. Saw you at the information meeting this morning. Terrible what’s happening on this campus. I’m Nia Humphry. I run accounting down here in the bowels of the beast.”
“You do an awesome job, Nia. You can call me Finn. Is Mr. Macy in?”
“You can call him Deke. He’s in his office. I’ll buzz you in, and you’ll see his office when you make a left.” She waved a hand behind her.
She buzzed the door and as he slipped through, a head popped around one of the cubicles. “Oh, hello, Dr. Karlsson.”
Finn schooled his face into a pleasant smile when he saw Dermott Webb. Just his luck. The guy had better not try to corner him here with his tedious questions. “Mr. Webb. What brings you to this part of campus?”
Nia spoke up for him. “Oh, I couldn’t manage without Dermott’s help back here. He’s a part-timer but could probably do my job.”
“Not true.” Dermott gave Nia a shy smile. “I have some inventory and accounting background from my stint in the army, so I jumped when I saw this job advertised.”
“Well, I’m glad you did, baby. Show Professor Karlsson Deke’s office.”
“This way, Dr. Karlsson.”
Finn followed Dermott’s stiff back down a short hallway lined with small offices. The dude must be better with numbers than people.
Dermott stopped and pointed but didn’t go near the doorway himself. He mouthed,this one.
Finn poked his head inside the office as he tapped on the door. “Deke?”
Deke dragged his gaze away from the computer monitor in front of him and gave Finn the once-over. “Yeah. Who wants to know?”
“I’m Finn Karlsson, professor over in criminology. Just had a couple of questions for you about the student store inventory—if you can help me out.” Finn took two steps into the small office and extended his hand to Deke across the messy desk.
Deke stood up, the fluorescent light bouncing off his perfectly shaved head, and stuck out his hand. As they shook, Deke gave Finn’s hand a crushing squeeze. Obviously, those muscles he cultivated weren’t just for show. He had the strength to go along with them.
“Sure, I know you. Have a seat.” Deke snapped his laptop closed and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, biceps flexed.
Was this a contest or something? Finn kept his muscles under wraps and sat in the lone chair opposite the desk. “I was just in the student store and had a question about the sympathy cards.”