Wren shakes her head. “I don’t like this, John. I mean it. This makes me want to run for the hills.”
“Trust me, Muller, you don’t have to dive off the grid just yet. We will make sure you get a security detail since it’s your name is on here, but, honestly, it may just be that he thinks it’s clever to show us he knows how our investigations work,” he reassures her, taking out an evidence bag from his pocket. He removes the card from her fingers. “And it’s pretty clear he likes to scare people, specifically women.”
“Ugh, John. Catch this guy so I can stop feeling so paranoid, please.”
Leroux smooths out his pants and grips Wren’s upper arm.
“I promise I will,” he says confidently.
“I think I actually believe you.”
“I’m flattered.” He winks and brushes past her toward the waiting car. “Let’s get this back into evidence and get away from this shit.”
She nods, squeezing her eyes shut and sucking in a deep breath, just to let it out slowly before turning around to face him. “Right behind you.”
CHAPTER 11
JEREMY SITS IN THE CROWDED auditorium and watches her. Emily is paying close attention to the Biology lecture, taking impeccably detailed notes. Her hand never once stops moving over her notebook, and the bracelet that is almost always around her wrist jingles just slightly. The tiny, silver anatomical heart charm bounces with each pencil stroke. He imagines he is the only one who hears it. Every now and then, she nods and tips her pencil slightly forward in agreement with a particular theory. As he observes her, he feels the bubbling of anticipation again. Seeing Emily utterly oblivious to what will soon happen to her is completely tantalizing.
After three hours of lecture, it is 7:30 p.m., and he realizes that his own pen has never once touched the page. He had retreated so far into his own mind that the three hours passed like minutes. He stands up slowly, never taking his eyes off her as she gathers her things and makes her way down the row of seats to the aisle. Cracking each knuckle by his side, he steps out in front of her, plastering a friendly smile across his face. She doesn’t immediately notice him in her path until he softly says her name.
“Miss Emily Maloney,” he whispers, leaning close to her ear before she passes him.
Startled, she nervously chuckles, placing a hand to her chest and smiling.
“Cal!” she exclaims. “You scared the shit out of me. I swear, after three hours of this crap, I am in a complete daze.”
Even after an entire semester, it still takes a moment for Jeremy to react to his alias at school. He had registered as “Cal” using fake documents. It’s amazing what administrative burnout can allow to fall through the cracks. Even though he inhabited the role during school hours, he still couldn’t quite get used to the name. They begin walking side by side toward the auditorium’s exit as she chatters about the effects of lengthy lectures on students’ cognition post-lecture. Jeremy barely hears a word. His mind is racing as he goes over the next few minutes again in his head. There is no room for error. Even the slightest hiccup would be disastrous. They round the corner, out of sight from the Biology building. He begins to carefully manipulate the rag in his right pocket around a tiny, plastic vial of chloroform.
“Do you think we can use calculators for this exam?” she asks, mindlessly scrolling through an email on her phone.
He shrugs and discreetly pokes a small hole in the plastic vial in his pocket, using a prong that was purposefully bent outward from the ring he wears on his thumb. He feels the warm liquid soak into the cloth surrounding the vile as they enter the parking garage.
“You know they will probably just give us an abacus or something. Instead of preparing us, they simply ignore the fact that modern technology is used in the real world,” she continues as he clears his throat. She laughs as she takes her keys out and approaches her car door. “Well, if you want to go over the practical sheet this weekend, let me know.”