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Room 305 of the Social Sciences building felt more like an interrogation box than a faculty office. There was a single table perched oddly in the center of the room and the Venetian blinds were in need of a good dusting. Ella leaned forward, keeping her posture open, non-threatening.

She'd grabbed the chair behind the desk while Luca leaned against a filing cabinet. Missing persons weren't their usual gig, but something in Whitman's eyes had triggered Ella's radar. Twenty years of studying human behavior had taught her one thing: desperate people didn't usually fake it this well.

‘Why don't we start from the beginning, Miss...?’

‘Westbrook. Olivia Westbrook.’ The woman's voice quavered, but she seemed to take comfort in the familiar ritual of introductions. ‘I teach in the geology department, alongside Marcus... Dr. Thornton.’

Ella began scribbling in her mental notebook. Coworkers, then. Probably close friends, judging by the genuine distress on Olivia's face. ‘And when was the last time you saw Dr. Thornton?’

‘Friday, so four days ago. We had a faculty meeting that ran late. Marcus was there, as upbeat as ever.’

Four days. This wasn’t a stranded-on-a-country-road situation. Chances were that wherever Marcus had gone, he didn’t plan on coming back. ‘Did you speak to him?’

‘Yes, but nothing too intense. Just casual chatter.’

Luca asked, ‘Did Marcus mention any plans for the weekend?’

‘No. Not that I remember.’

‘What was Marcus like? Personality, character, anything like that.’

Olivia’s hands knotted together. ‘He's as reliable as they come. Never missed a class, never late to a faculty meeting. If he said he'd be somewhere, you could set your watch by it.’

Ella noted it. Dependable type. Responsible. Low flight risk. ‘How old?’ she asked.

‘Forty-five.’

‘What about his home life?’

‘Doesn’t have one, as far as I know. Divorced for ten years, no kids, lives for his work. The kind of guy who arrives early and leaves late. ’

Ella committed the details to memory. A man married to his work, no real ties outside the university. The type who could disappear without making waves. She didn't like where this was headed.

‘So, Dr. Thornton was a dedicated professor. Did he have any hobbies outside of work? Anything he was passionate about?’ Ella probed.

Olivia's eyes took on a faraway look. ‘Geology was his passion, Agent Dark. It wasn't just a job for him. Marcus lived and breathed it. He was always going on about some obscure mineral he'd tracked down. He used to joke that his ex-wife left him because he loved rocks more than her.’

Ella exchanged a glance with Luca. A man with a passion, a man who chased secrets in the earth. The picture was getting clearer, but the frame was still empty.

‘When you say tracked down some obscure mineral, you mean with his own hands?’

‘Yes. He was always trekking to God knows where. Last year he went to Iceland just to see the Reynisdrangar.’

Ella didn’t know what that was, but it sounded majestic. ‘Did Marcus ever mention anything specific he was working on? A research project, maybe, or a particular site he was interested in?’

‘Not recently, no. I mean, he was always working on something, but he never really shared. That was Marcus.’

Olivia's answers had painted a clearer picture of the man, but they were still missing the most crucial detail: where the hell was he?

‘Have you contacted the police?’ Ella asked.

‘Yesterday afternoon. I’d been texting him all day, then I went to check on him in the evening. No sign of him at home, so I reported him missing.’

‘Have they come back to you yet?’

‘They called back this afternoon but didn’t have anything to report. They said they were going to trace his phone when they had clearance, but,’ Olivia fished her cell out of her pocket and showed Ella a screen of texts. ‘I don’t think it will be any use. My messages to him yesterday didn’t even deliver.’

Ella took the cell and speed-read the exchange.

Are you sick today?

Need any classes covering? Susan’s asking.

Hellooooo, earth to Marcus??

I’m coming to your place .

Ella handed the phone back. The texts painted their own picture – concern escalating to worry. ‘Was his car outside his house?’

‘No. Then I went round to his back garden, where his little shed is.’

‘Anything out of the ordinary?’

‘I went in and… his rock hammer was missing.’ Olivia wiped at her eyes. ‘I know it sounds silly, but Marcus was meticulous about his tools. He had them mounted on the wall in his shed like artwork.’

Luca pushed off from the filing cabinet. ‘So he might have gone somewhere to examine rocks?’

‘Possibly. It could be a coincidence, but I’ve known him twelve years. Been to his house fifty times. Those tools in that shed were the one constant.’

Ella took a moment to think things through and put logic at the forefront. Marcus Thornton: divorced, dedicated, predictable as sunrise. The kind of man who'd sooner skip meals than miss a class. But people had layers; Ella had learned that lesson the hard way over years of peeling back human facades. She'd never put it past anyone to torch their own existence. Sometimes the weight of routine crushed harder than concrete, and the only escape was to slip sideways into a brand new skin. But assumptions were the gravediggers of truth – they buried evidence six feet under and danced on the grave.

‘His car,’ Ella said. ‘What kind?’

‘Mustang. Muscle car. I don’t know the year, but I know he restored it himself. The only time I’ve ever seen him do anything in his spare time other than study rocks.’

‘Did Marcus have any enemies?’ Luca asked. ‘Anyone who might want to harm him?’

Olivia shook her head. ‘God no. He was... vanilla. The most controversial thing he ever did was argue about rock formation dating methods.’

‘What about his finances?’

‘Stable, as far as I know. He wasn't rich, but he wasn't hurting either. Tenure does that for you.’

Ella drummed her fingers on the desk. The rhythm helped her sort the signal from the noise. ‘His phone. You said the texts didn't deliver. Was that normal?’

‘No. Marcus wasn’t the most tech-savvy guy here, but he wasn’t ignorant of it either.’

A missing professor. A missing rock hammer. A dead phone. Three dots that refused to form into a constellation. Ella had to admit, it was an intriguing albeit tragic puzzle. She turned to Luca and saw the same curiosity reflected on his face.

‘Okay, Miss Westbrook, we’ll need Marcus’s address, cell number, license plate if you have it. Maybe a list of research spots, sites, anything like that. I’ll also need the name of the officer you spoke to from NYPD.’

The woman nodded. ‘I can get you that. So you’ll help?’

‘Yes. We’ll do what we can.’

‘Thank you. I hate to clog up your schedule, and I know this stuff takes time, but…’

Ella leaned forward and put a hand on Olivia’s wrist. ‘We work fast. And we have different protocols from the police.’

‘You do?’

Ella pulled out her cell phone. ‘Yup. And luckily for us, the FBI director owes me one.’