Page 36 of What We May Be

She coasted her hand down his spine. “Let’s get out of the hallway.”

Fuck, that meant only one thing. “Oh God, Trace.” He flipped his back to the wall and sank to the floor, head held in his hands.

Sean’s boots echoed the direction of the stairs, making the hall as private as he could, while Charlie knelt beside him, her voice close and on his level, confirming the worst. “Tracy found him this morning.”

He remained quiet for several long moments, hands wrapped around the back of his neck. When he finally lifted his face, he settled his gaze on her. Steadiness in the storm that had unexpectedly swept him up. “I have no love lost for either of them, but Christ, I wouldn’t wish that on Trace.”

Charlie took his hand in hers and squeezed. “None of us would.”

“Was there a clue again?”

“‘So sweet was ne’er so fatal,’” Sean replied as he walked back their direction.

Trevor glanced between them. “Desdemona from Othello, falsely accused of adultery.”

“Which Julian was not,” Charlie said. “He was smothered, in a manner of speaking.”

“It’s Shakespeare’s Four Tragedies.” He’d bet anything on it, including Sean’s bike. “First, King Lear, now Othello. Was the new clue numbered?”

Sean nodded. “With a two.”

He was right. “Hamlet and Macbeth. Those are the other two plays in that collection.”

“I should have asked Annie about those when she was here,” Charlie said.

Fuck, Annie. He shot to his feet, then regretted it immediately, wobbly from the shock and probably the fifth can of Mountain Dew he’d guzzled on the drive home. He put a hand to the wall to steady himself and ignored the double dose of concerned looks. “Is she okay?” he asked. “She and Trace are tight.”

“Annie’s fine,” Charlie said. “A little shocked but okay.”

“I should check on her.” He dug his phone out of his pocket, and seeing the darkened screen, cursed himself again for running off without a charger. “Fuck.”

Charlie slipped the device from his hand, saving it from imminent destruction in his fist or against the wall. “You can use my office phone, but first we need to hear what you found out in Apex.”

He shifted so his back was to the wall again, Charlie and Sean in front of him, and inhaled deep, fighting to calm his racing heart and mind. “You remember when I mentioned Jeff had caused difficulties with some tenure candidates?”

“Your own included,” Sean said.

“Yes, he’s been stalling mine, which was part of the reason for Georgetown.” Georgetown. DC. “Fuck, Charlie, the interview.” His heart raced, fueled by nitrous-powered guilt. “It was this morning?”

“Pushed it to tomorrow.”

He let out a relieved breath, but Sean didn’t let him savor the victory long. “Let me guess, someone at Apex was a victim of his stalling?”

Trevor nodded. “When she got tired of waiting and accepted a position at Apex, Jeff held her letters of rec up too. She had to threaten a formal complaint to finally get the letters.”

“A complaint for what?”

“Discrimination. Ten women have come up for tenure since Jeff was appointed to the tenure committee. He’s only approved two.”

“That’s the treason,” Sean said. “A traitor to the academic institution, someone who systematically denied HU talented academics because of their gender.” He angled toward Charlie. “It fits.”

“As one possible motive,” she said. “We still have Barnett and Julian to consider.”

“Wait!” Trevor sliced a hand between them like a field ref would. “Barnett. Why does that ring a bell?”

“Julian was having an affair with a student, Sarah Barnett.”

Trevor shot off the wall, anger re-infusing his limbs. “She was in my freshman lit class last semester.”

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