Once this case is over, I’ll tell him, she thought. I’ll focus on the baby and my mew life, and—
Her thoughts had apparently snagged her full attention, because Ellington was looking at her now, as if waiting for a response.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was somewhere else there for a minute.”
He smiled and said, “That’s okay. I got an address for one William Holland. He lives here in town, in Northwood. You feel up for a visit?”
Honestly, she didn’t. The day had not been overly grueling but coming into a case directly off of a trip to Iceland and not sleeping much in the past thirty-six hours, it was all starting to catch up to her. She also knew that the growing baby inside of her was sucking some of her energy away and the thought of that actually made her smile.
Besides, even if the guy was capable of questioning or taking into custody, it probably wouldn’t take that long. So she put on her best go-get-’em face and stood back up.
“Yeah, let’s go pay him a visit.”
Ellington stepped in front of her, making sure they were looking eye to eye. “You sure? You look tired. You even told me less than half an hour ago that you felt a little wiped out.”
“It’s okay. I’m good.”
He kissed her on the forehead and nodded. “Okay, then. I’m going to take you on your word.” With another smile, he reached down and caressed her stomach before heading for the door.
He’s worried about me, she thought. And he’s already so in love with this child that it’s overwhelming. He’s going to be such a good father…
But before she could latch on to that thought, they were out the door and headed for the car. They moved with such speed and purpose that it served as a reminder that she would not be able to truly focus on thoughts about their future together until this case was solved.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was shortly after seven p.m. when Ellington parked their car in front of William Holland’s house. It was a small house tucked away on the outer edges of a nice little subdivision, the sort of house that looked more like a misplaced cottage than anything else. A single car was parked in the paved driveway and several lights were on inside the house.
Ellington knocked on the door in an almost assertive way. He was not being rude about it by any means, but he was making it clear to Mackenzie that while he was worried about her health, he would be taking the lead in just about every facet of the case: driving, knocking on doors, and so on.
The door was answered by a well-groomed man who looked to be in his late forties. He wore a pair of trendy eyeglasses and was dressed in a blazer and khakis. Based on the smell wafting out of the door from behind him, he was enjoying Chinese takeout for dinner.
“William Holland?” Ellington asked.
“Yeah. And who are you?”
They both showed their badges at the same time, Mackenzie taking a single step forward as they did. “Agents White and Ellington, FBI. We understand that you left your job at Queen Nash recently.”
“I did,” Holland said with some uncertainty. “But I’m confused. Why would that warrant a visit from the FBI?”
“Can we come in, Mr. Holland?” Ellington asked.
Holland took a moment to think before conceding. “Sure, yeah, come on in. But I don’t…I mean, what is this about?”
They entered the doorway without answering. When Holland closed the door behind them, Mackenzie took note. He’d shut it slowly and firmly. He was either nervous or scared—or, more likely, both.
“We’re here in town investigating two murders,” Ellington finally answered. “Both Queen Nash students, both females, and, as we’ve learned today, both advised by you.”
They’d entered Holland’s living room by then and Holland wasted no time in plopping down into a small lounge chair. He looked up to them as if he truly did not understand what they were telling him.
“Hold on…you’re saying two?”
“Yes,” Mackenzie said. “Did you not know?”
“I knew about Jo Haley. And the only reason I knew that was because we’re notified by the provost whenever a student that we work with passes away. Who is the other one?”
“Christine Lynch,” Mackenzie said, studying his face for a reaction. There was a flicker of recognition there, but very little. “Do you recognize the name?”
“Yes. But I…I can’t recall the face. I had over sixty students, you know.”
“That’s another thing,” Ellington said. “The had of it all. We hear that you quit your job shortly before winter break. Did that have anything to do with the rumors that you were seeing one of your students?”
“Ah, Jesus,” Holland said. He leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses. He massaged the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Yes, I’m dating a student. I knew word was getting around and what that might do to both my career and her academic career. So I quit my job.”
“Just like that?” Mackenzie asked.
“No, not just like that,” Holland snapped. “We’d been sneaking around for months and I’ve fallen in love with her. She feels the same. So we talked long and hard about it, trying to figure out what to do. But during that time, it somehow became public knowledge. And that sort of made the decision for us. But…what does any of this have to do with the murders?”
“We’re hoping nothing,” Ellington said. “But you have to see this the way we see it. We have two murdered students and the only firm link between the two of them is that they share you as an academic advisor. Add to that the fact that you’re having a fairly open relationship with a student…”
“So you think I’m a suspect? You think I killed those girls?”
Saying the words out loud seemed to make him sick. He placed his glasses back on and sat up in the chair, hunched over.
“We’re not sure what we think right now,” Mackenzie said. “That’s why we’re here to speak with you.”
“Mr. Holland,” Ellington said, “you just told us that you could not really place Christine Lynch’s face. How about Jo Haley?”
“Yes…I knew her rather well, actually. She was a friend of the woman I’m currently seeing.”
“So Jo Haley knew about the relationship?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think that Melissa—that’s my girlfriend—would tell her. We tried our best to remain very discreet.”
Mackenzie took a moment to think. The fact that his girlfriend had known one of the victims—and that the victim could have potentially known about the taboo relationship—certainly painted Holland in a worse light. It made her wonder why he would so voluntarily offer up all of this information without much of a fight.
“Forgive me for asking,” Mackenzie said, “but was this girlfriend of yours—this Melissa—the first student you’ve ever been involved with?”
A knot of frustration worked its way across Holland’s face and he got to his feet in a sudden flash of movement. “Hey, fuck you! I can’t…”
“Sit back down right now,” Ellington said, stepping directly into Holland’s path.
Holland appeared to realize his mistake right away, his expression going from one of resigned regret to anger, back and forth as he tried to settle on an emotion.
“Look, I’m sorry. But I’m sick and tired of being judged for this and I truly don’t