Darby slipped charging cables into her laptop bag and picked out a couple of heavy-looking textbooks from the shelf above her desk. Eban stepped forward and hefted the stack of books from her with his non-dominant hand.

He heard footsteps along the corridor and stuck his head out to check. A middle-aged guy in a green UAF sweatshirt and jeans walked toward him talking to Jacqui in a rapid whisper. The man’s expression was both defiant and pensive.

The man shot him a look before sweeping past him into the office, scratching his graying hair. Eban braced the door open, keeping one hand free so he could draw his weapon if necessary. Not that he was expecting trouble, it was ingrained habit.

“Darby, what on earth are you doing here?”

“Professor Nilsson.” Her mouth pulled into a thin line. “I’m grabbing my stuff to work from home—”

“Darby, I mean what are you doing out of jail?”

Darby’s lip wobbled then she swallowed loudly. “The police released me without charge as you can see.” A harsh breath escaped when neither the professor nor Jacqui spoke. “Call them if you don’t believe me.”

The silence lengthened uncomfortably.

Eventually Darby’s advisor said, “Look, this is extremely awkward for the Institute.” The man frowned. “You have to see how problematic it is for you to be here…”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Darby said sharply.

He sighed. “We need to protect our students.”

“Protect your students?” Eban interrupted with a mirror.

The professor glanced at him in surprise. “The police officer I spoke with earlier today said Darby was found in Martin’s house and that Martin had been stabbed to death. They made it clear to everyone they weren’t searching for anyone else in connection to his murder.”

“None of those facts means that Darby was in any way responsible for Mr. Carstairs’s death,” Eban stated, pissed with the way this investigation had been handled by the locals.

“Correlation does not mean causation,” Darby added woodenly.

The professor made an unconvinced face. “The detective was very convincing.”

Darby looked like she was desperately holding on to her composure. Eban was ready to deck the guy.

“We have to think of our other students and how safe they feel… Surely you understand?” the professor said.

Eban understood, all right. He also knew what he was supposed to do. Label the professor’s emotions. Empathize. “Sounds like you have a lot on your plate with all these complex issues to balance. Sounds like you’re going to be swamped trying to deal with the fallout from this situation.” Then he should ask some calibrated questions about how the professor and university were going to deal with this situation before possibly offering his assistance. But Eban had had enough of standing back and letting Darby deal with this shit as this guy clearly only cared about his research program.

“Last summer you were quite happy to place Darby in jeopardy by leaving her alone on an Indonesian volcano in an unsettled political climate in a region with a known active terrorist group.”