“Hey Marlitt—are you ever going to change that message? You’ve had this number years now and your cell mailbox is full … anyway, got those phone records you asked for and am emailing them to you now. No transcripts yet. They’re giving me a bit of hassle over there, but don’t worry, I’m on it. So far we’ve got nothing on Jay’s laptop. Looks like it’s been wiped clean. Must have some tech wizards down at the Kap-O house.” A wry laugh. “We’ll keep at it but give me a ring if you need anything else. And change that message.”

“Dara says they’ve got nothing on the laptop,” I whisper to Teddy and give him an I-told-you-so look. “But we’ve got Jay’s phone records.”

“Let’s see them.”

“Waiting for my computer.” It takes forever to boot up and the internet is slow as hell.

Teddy reaches into my desk drawer and fumbles around until he finds a granola bar.

“Almond?” He wrinkles his nose.

I grin. “We have to start eating like adults sometime.”

Truman slams down his phone and we both jump.

“Two complaints in the last hour,” he yells without bothering to get up from his desk. “My office. Now.”

I glance at the computer. Still loading.

Getting called to Truman’s office is a bit like being called to the principal. You have a sneaking suspicion of what you did wrong, but since it could be any number of things, you keep your mouth shut. Fortunately, Truman rarely makes us wait.

His face is blotchy, like smashed tomatoes, and the heat rises up his neck.

“A sorority house?” he shouts. “Why, in god’s name, are you bothering the young women at Gamma Delta Alpha Delta?”

I open my mouth.

“I’m not finished. I had a phone call earlier from a very nice but rather upset southern lady, who told me you’ve been harassing her girls. That—Katie Coleman, is it?—was literally”—he shuffles the papers on his desk—“ill, too sick to go to class, and in—her—bed. And—” He gestures at me to zip it. His face has turned a deeper shade of red, almost purple. Aubergine, I think. “She called back just now to tell me you gave the poor girl a panic attack. Didn’t I tell you to tread carefully? Jesus, I’ve already fielded calls from the fraternity—nice touch, by the way, showing up at their memorial service.” He rolls his eyes, so we know just what he thinks about that. “But since it’s one of their own, they’re a bit more accommodating. But I shouldn’t have to tell you that we don’t interview young women—or anyone for that matter—unannounced and in their bedrooms, especially when they’re in their jammies. Do I make myself clear?”