The Curse of Tenth Grave Page 62


“It’s lovely,” I said to him before closing the door and trying the next office.

“You’ll have to set up an appointment,” the receptionist said, hurrying behind me.

I shoved open the next door. Broom closet.

“I’m calling Security,” she said just as I reached the right door. I totally needed to stop and read a sign here and there.

I shoved open his door. It banged against a bookcase, and I tried not to cringe. I straightened my shoulders and hiked my chin up a notch. “I want answers,” I said for the third and hopefully last time. He was looking out the window of a much smaller office than I’d expected.

Without even turning to see who’d barged in, he held up an index finger to put me on hold.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Parker,” the receptionist said. Just like in the movies.

He held up a finger to her as well.

I snorted. “Looks like we both got the finger.”

She glared.

“Sorry. I saw it in a movie once and wanted to do it.”

“If I had a nickel for every time someone said that to me. I swear there is something in the water here.” She turned and left us alone, closing the door behind her.

“Davidson,” he said, turning to me at last.

“Parker.”

“How’s it going with the case?”

“Peachy keen, Parker. Thanks so much for asking.”

He motioned for me to sit down. I ignored him.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Fiske’s priors?”

“Prior,” he said, raising a brow. “Singular. Please sit down.”

I walked around a black leather chair and sat. He joined me. Not on my chair, but he sat in his.

Parker could have been good looking if he didn’t have such a rigid stick up his ass. He was so uptight, it actually made others around him uncomfortable. A trait like that probably came in handy during a trial.

“Why did you leave it out of the folder you gave me?”

“You act like I did that on purpose.”

I did my best deadpan in which I channeled a sarcastic Christopher Walken.

“I didn’t think you’d take the case if you knew about that.”

“No shit.”

“But I can explain.”

“Let’s hear it.”

He leaned forward and started shuffling and straightening papers, unconsciously forming a barrier between us. The guilt I’d felt before came cascading down around him.

“He was one of those people everyone loved, you know? The girls chased him nonstop. The guys couldn’t help but like him. He was that rare combination of nice guy and killer looks that everyone wanted to be around. To absorb.”

I could see that. The guy was probably a doll when he wasn’t being accused of murder. Especially one he didn’t commit.

“He had offers from schools all over the country. Could have gone to graduate school anywhere. He had his whole life ahead of him.”

“So did that kid, I suspect.”

He nodded, the guilt like fire roiling out of him. “It was rush week, and a hazing went bad. The kid went into anaphylactic shock. El did everything to save him—”

“El?”

“Lyle. It’s what we called him. Anyway, the kid died. El took the fall. Did three years for negligent homicide.” He shifted in his chair, the guilt eating him alive. “It was my idea, but because he was the president, he took the fall. He took the fall for all of us.”

“A kid died during a hazing at a fraternity of which he was the president. He was ultimately responsible.”

“Yeah,” he said, pasting on a sour smile. “That’s what he said. But he wasn’t responsible. I was.”

“Directly?”

“Yes.” He coughed into a fist and then left it pressed to his mouth as the memory of what must have been a horrible night overcame him. “We would kidnap our pledges, put sacks over their heads, put them in a van, take them to the seedier side of Central, and kick them out. They were all in their underwear at the time, of course. But Lyle said it would be too dangerous to leave them there like that, so we did doughnuts awhile and then drove onto the middle of campus to drop them off there.”

“Sounds like standard operating procedure.”

“It would have been if I’d just done my fucking job. I was supposed to check the medical records of the pledges, but I’d had a big exam that day and didn’t get around to it.”

“This can’t be good.”

“One of the pledges was allergic to peanuts, and the bags we used were from a peanut plant.”

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