Her naked skin rippled with gooseflesh. Maybe shower first.

Robed and warm post-shower, she set her bag on the kitchen table and reached for her report, but the buzz of her phone and Lakshmi’s subsequent invitation to happy hour led Caitlin back to celebration mode and clothing. They met five staff members from the Daily Student at Bear’s Place and fought the tiny pitchers of liquor destruction until everyone lost.

*   *   *

She woke the next morning on Lakshmi’s couch, saw the young woman working at her desk. “Anything new?”

“I want to die,” Lakshmi said, “but the AP picked up the post-conference piece under the headline ‘Drug Bust May Solve Mystery of Missing Student.’ ”

Caitlin found her phone, skimmed the article.

Detectives refused to comment on possible ties to the disappearance of Angela Chapman, despite the involvement of former schoolmates David Amireau and Kieran Michelson, both persons of interest in the unsolved disappearance.

“Well done, Lakshmi.” She found her rental car’s key fob under an open Pizza Monster box. “Did we order again last night?”

Lakshmi laughed. “That was your idea. You kept saying, ‘Let’s kill the—’ ”

“Right.” Caitlin remembered chanting the words Let’s kill the monster.

She excused her hungover self, left for the guest cottage. By two PM she felt hungry; by four, the rain had stopped; by five she felt human.

Greenwood texted at six forty-two PM. Amireau wants to talk deal.

Chapter 51

CHAPTER

51

JANE MAVERICK OFFERED Caitlin the same observation room chair from two nights before. This time the monitor showed two men at the table—David Amireau in a Monroe County jumpsuit and his fifty-year-old rent-a-friend lawyer.

“Okay, everyone.” Renton addressed the full room. “For those who don’t know, Caitlin Bergman is here, with my department’s approval, acting as a consultant.”

She pointed out the two FBI agents next to Greenwood. “Caitlin, these are—”

“Christiansen and Foreman, I believe.”

Renton nodded. “There’s a copy of the Chapman file on Greenwood’s desk if you still want it.”

Caitlin nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Here’s the situation. We have Amireau on schedule-one felony narcotics distribution and production, with racketeering options if Justice chooses to prosecute at the federal level. We also have an unsubstantiated assertion by Nathan Fodor that he buried several bags on the property the day after Chapman’s disappearance.”

Caitlin interrupted. “Unsubstantiated, Chief? As in, there’s nothing there?”

Greenwood took the question. “We haven’t arranged a deal with Frodo’s attorney to let him point out the spot.”

Chief Renton rapped the tabletop. “No deals. These boys are going away. All of them. I’ll take down their damned fraternity if I can.”

“Right,” Greenwood continued. “If Chapman’s buried on that property, we’ll find her with or without Frodo. Forecast says the rain’s done for now, so we’ll be digging by tomorrow.”

Maverick jumped in. “Not Channel Two. They think we’ll get another thunderstorm tonight.”