Page 5 of Girl, Unseen

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 anintriguing 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.’

CHAPTER THREE

The call to William Edis would go one of two ways. Either he'd shut her down before she got three words out, or he'd give her enough rope to hang herself with. Ella stabbed at his number from the corridor outside Room 305 and waited for the axe to fall.

Three rings, then four. Just when she thought it would kick to voicemail, William Edis picked up.

‘Do you know what time it is, Ella?’

No hello. Classic Edis. ‘Same time it is in your office. You're still there, aren't you?’

‘Budget season.’ A sound punched through the line - Edis kicking his trash can. He did that when the numbers didn't add up. ‘Three different committee reports on my desk and they all tell different stories. Someone's lying to me.’

‘Want me to profile your accountants?’

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