She masked a chuckle with a cough. Only a seventeen-year-old would deem thirty-three old.

“I don’t know.” She tossed the sponge in the trash. Busied herself opening the topcoat. “I’m not his biggest fan. He’s making me meet him in the library for tutoring sessions.” No point in keeping that a secret. The more out-in-the-open they treated those get-togethers, the less anyone would pay attention to them.

“Seriously?”

“Uh-huh. I bombed the pop quiz he gave yesterday.”

“You could be holed up with worse people. I don’t get any bad vibes from Mr. Martinez.”

Like she did from Evans.

Kayla didn’t have to say that for the message to come through loud and clear.

“I suppose.”

“If you want any help with Spanish homework, let me know. I do okay in that subject.”

Another opportunity to interact with the girl.

“Thanks.”

The conversation shifted to more general school-related topics while she finished the manicure and repaired her own nail, but as Kayla went back to studying, Cate’s mind was already processing next steps.

While her roommate hadn’t been privy to Stephanie’s plans the night she disappeared, she was a fount of other helpful information about Evans and her former roommate’s nocturnal wanderings.

A phone call to her handler to request additional research on Evans’s background and a hike around the property moved to the top of her priority list. Assuming Stephanie and her boyfriend had used the barn as a rendezvous site, it was possible they’d left a piece of evidence behind.

Cate slipped the polish into the kit and zipped it closed.

If that was the case . . . and if someone at Ivy Hill was involved in the drug pipeline, as Zeke suspected . . . he or she could also have played a part in the disappearance of the teen couple.

She tucked her manicure supplies into the storage bin and slid the container under her bed.

While Zeke considered the missing student peripheral to his case, it was possible her efforts to track down the person responsible for Stephanie’s vanishing act could also lead to a link to the mastermind behind the St. Louis cartel pipeline operation.

She sat on her bed and pulled out her cell. Ignoring Zeke’s request to give him a list of potential meeting times for their twice-a-week tutoring sessions was silly. She might not want to see him alone on a regular basis, but the premise was plausible and it would give them an opportunity to exchange information without raising eyebrows.

And if their two investigations did begin to intertwine, as it now appeared they might, they did have to talk.

About business only.

She’d be firm on that rule if he brought up anything of a personal nature. Set clear boundaries.