Page 60 of Long Way Down

“Hm. Idowish I’d been able to work off my own photos. There’s so many places I want to see in person. I want to get the perfect angles.” He held up both hands, framing an imaginary photo.

“So travel after graduation.”

He sat half-turned toward her, upper body twisted at the waist, and so she saw his face shutter, briefly, before he dropped his hands back to his lap. His smile was thin and wry. “Maybe.”

There was a story there – one she wanted to know, but which she couldn’t allow herself to get bogged down in. She’d allowed this conversation to run off the rails too far already.

Segues weren’t her forte – she honestly wasn’t sure what was – but she aimed for a casual tone when she said, “You know, we’ve been talking for at least twenty minutes, and I get the feeling you could talk about angles, and light sources, and brush techniques for hours.”

The charming blush from before returned. “Yeah. Probably. Sorry, I tend to ramble.”

“No. It’s pleasant,” she said, parroting his earlier words. “But I was noticing something. Y’all’s professor said that Daniel was passionate about art – but when my partner and I sat down with him, he talked about his parents not ‘getting’ art, but he didn’t say anything specific like you have.” She lifted her brows, inviting his input.

“Ah. Daniel.”

She tried to project an encouraging air.

“I don’t like talking about people behind their backs. It’s cowardly.”

“That’s admirable – but this is a rape investigation, Tobias. Lana and Lynn were attacked by someone they both know.”

He sighed, but nodded. “The thing about Daniel is…and keep in mind, this is just me observing. I’m not close with him.”

She nodded.

“He says he’s passionate about art, but I think what he’s really passionate about is pissing off his parents.”

That had been her immediate thought. “How do you mean?”

“Did you ever know somebody who read, like, one article and then quoted it ad nauseam to try and prove how smart and well-read they were?”

She winced, remembering a partner she’d had in her uniform days. “Yeah.”

“Daniel’s like that. If anyone in the class is having a discussion about something specific – a new technique they’re trying, or an upcoming exhibit they want to go see, he chimes in with some factoid it sounds like he’s reading off a website. ‘Did you know?’ Or ‘Actually.’” He rolled his eyes. “Carole – she’s the lady with the braid – makes this face every time he walks up that it’s very hard not to laugh at. That sounds really uncharitable of me, I know…but Daniel’s a know-it-all who doesn’t actually know much of anything. Professor Dubois corrects him all the time, but he doesn’t seem to learn or to get any humbler. His work is…well, let’s just say none of it’s hanging on the wall in here.” He gestured to the gallery space around them.

“Is it more a case of him lacking talent? Or lacking the discipline to improve?”

“Both, I think. Everyone works on their pieces outside of class, but when he unpacks a canvas from the week before, he hasn’t made any progress on it in the days since.”

“Maybe he has a busy work schedule.”

“He doesn’t work at all.” Here, Tobias’s gaze darkened. “Typical spoiled rich kid: all he has to do is go to school and keep his grades up, and if his homework is any indication, he struggles to do that. Imagine,” he said, turning to her, growing agitated, “having your rich family pay for everything, all your clothes, your car – it’s a Porsche, by the way, I’ve seen it on the street – your school, having no job, and then bitching that much about how hard you have it.” His nostrils flared and a muscle in his jaw flexed, reminding her, suddenly and starkly, that he was a large and strong-looking man – a man with the physical capability to hold a woman down and harm her.

“He makes you angry,” she observed, and he caught himself. Seemed to realize what sort of picture he was making.

His eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath; leaned back away from her and pressed his hands flat on his thighs. “I…” He looked frightened, now. Afraid of what she’d think. “Well…life’s not fair. I get that. I do.” He raked a hand through the gleaming waves of his hair and scraped up a thin smile. “It’s frustrating sometimes, is all. To see someone with so many advantages complain like that when you’ve been…” He gestured to his chest. “Well. When you’ve been me.”

“That sort of thing could create resentment.”

His gaze narrowed and flicked to her face. “I’m used to it.”

“Probably. Guys like Daniel, though, with all that cash, the fancy car, I bet they pull all the pretty girls, don’t they? They don’t have to work for attention from them.”

She regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. It was her job to figure out who’d attacked Lana and Lynn, not to soothe ruffled feathers, and certainly not to assure a potential suspect that he was better off without an aimless rich boy’s advantages. Her inference felt like a low blow, though, and Tobias thought so too judging by the glare of disappointment in his gaze before he turned his face away.

He took a deep breath. “If this is your way of asking me if I got so jealous of Daniel that I hurt my own classmates, then the answer is no. An emphatic no.” He stood. “Goodnight, Detective.”

“Wait.”

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