Page 38 of Absent Reason

Nicole knew what this was. She'd heard the rumors by now and seen the news about the murders in the city. The rumors said that there was no way to get away from the person who sent the letters once they arrived. There was no way to avoid it, no way out of this.

Nicole's first instinct was to call the cops and hope that they could protect her. But what if whoever had sent this was watching her? What if he heard her calling the cops and killed her before they could arrive? What if he waited until they were gone and came for her then?

There wasn't anywhere that Nicole could run or hide from this.

Her only hope was to do this, to walk the bridges the way this psycho wanted. To solve this stupid puzzle. There had to be a solution. Nicole would just have to find it.

Right then, she wished that she were a lot better at math.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

Amber had to admit that Professor Arran's house was kind of impressive. It was a large, old place not far from the university, which looked as though it had been well cared for over the years. There was a car on the driveway, an aging but probably still quite expensive European import. At least they knew that the professor was likely to be home.

"How do you want to play this?" Amber asked Simon as they approached.

Simon considered for a moment before responding. "Let's be straightforward," he said. "There's no reason to burst in or arrest him straight away. We're FBI agents, we have reason to believe that Professor Arran may be a suspect, and we'd like to talk to him about it. If he's not willing to talk, then we'll have to consider other options."

"Sounds good to me," Amber replied. She took a deep breath and stepped up to the door, rapping on it with her knuckles loud enough that anyone inside should have been able to hear.

There was no answer from inside. Amber listened closely for any sign of movement. Was the professor trying to make an escape, or maybe hoping that they would go away if he ignored them?

"Check around back," Simon said. "I'll watch for any movement here."

Amber nodded and made her way around the side of the house, checking the windows as she went for signs of life. They were all closed and dark, but Amber found one towards the back that she could peer through into the house's kitchen.

There, on the floor, she saw a still form: an older man lying there, the mane of his white hair pooled around him on the floor.

"Simon, we've got something here!" Amber called out.

Simon rushed around the house and joined Amber at the window. Together, they peered into the kitchen and saw the body of someone who had to be Professor Arran lying on the floor.

"We need to get inside," Simon said, with a note of urgency in his voice that made it clear just how worried he was.

Amber nodded and started to look around for a way inside. They quickly found a spare key hidden under a nearby rock. They unlocked the door and cautiously made their way inside, drawing their weapons just in case.

The house was quiet, the only sound being the creaking of the old floorboards beneath their feet. Amber made her way over to the professor.

The first thing she noticed was the rise and fall of his chest.

"He isn't dead," Amber called out to Simon, feeling relief flood through her that they weren’t dealing with another death.

The second thing she noticed was the heavy smell of alcohol in the air, so thick that Amber found it hard to believe that anyone could have drunk that much.

Simon rushed over to them, peering down at the professor. "Get him up," he instructed Amber. "I'll check the rest of the house."

Amber nodded and carefully lifted the professor, grunting with the effort of moving him. She helped him to sit up against the nearest counter, and the professor groaned, his eyes flickering open.

"What... what happened?" he asked groggily. "Who... who you?"

He was obviously still incredibly drunk. Drunk enough that he could barely manage the words. He was drunk enough that he definitely wasn’t about to manage coherent sentences.

"There's no one else here," Simon said as he returned. "But there are half a dozen chalkboards in the other room filled with what look like impossible math problems."

"Not... 'moss," Professor Arran slurred. "Not 'moss enough!"

With that, his eyes fluttered closed again, and he almost fell over again. Amber had to catch him, propping him up once more.

"Professor, can you hear me?" she said. "We're with the FBI. We need to ask you where you were last night."

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