“I haven’t checked every student on the roster, but I don’t believe so. He’s older. He lives an hour and a half away. I think he might be associated with Tufts University but I’m not even sure about that. Is there anything I can do for you two right now?”

Jim said, “When can we take her home?”

“I’ll check with Boston. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

“When can we start packing up her . . .” Karen hung her head and stopped talking.

“I’ll check with Forensics and let you know about that as well,” Decker said. “Do you have a place to stay tonight? I can help you arrange something if you need it.”

“No, we’re . . . we’re staying at the Greenbury College Inn for the next two nights.”

“And you have my number?” Decker said.

“We do,” Jim said.

“Call me if you need anything.”

“We need a lot of things right now,” Jim snarled out. “And it’s nothing that you or anyone else can give us.”

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

KENNEDY’S PUB WAS one of the busier college hangouts because it had a reputation for cheap drinks and decent bar food. As the kid predicted, the place was arid hot, noisy, and stinky, especially at ten in the evening. They found a corner table away from the oversized and overcrowded bar. The dance floor was packed with students doing all kinds of moves and it took a while before a server was even visible. Finally, McAdams grew impatient, got up, and a moment later, a surly student took their orders: crudités and a Grolsch for Decker, a Manhattan and the lamb sliders for the kid.

“I like bourbon,” he said. “One of the few things that my father and I have in common.” He drummed his fingers. “That and we both live off my grandfather’s money. Now that guy was a true visionary. Not the most grandfatherly type. I think I waved to him in passing when I was five. Real warm people the McAdamses are.”

Decker nodded. “At least if he wasn’t warm, he was generous.”

“You take what you can get. The old man was married three times with a lot of lady friends in between. Lots of divorces and lots of alimony, but he had enough to go around.” The server brought over their drinks and plopped them on the table. McAdams sipped the richly colored bourbon. “I like his third wife, Nina. Matter of fact, I’m staying with her in the city.”

“How old is she?”

“Seventy-two. My grandfather would have been . . . eighty-six or -seven. He died six years ago. That’s when I came into a small part of our inheritance. I know my other sibs got something but his third wife told me that, as the eldest and most precocious, I am due to get the lion’s share, probably as much as my father.”

“Oh boy.”