Black Orchid Girls (Detective Amanda Steele)

“Dean Perkins first.”

Amanda and Trent found Dean Perkins pacing behind his desk with a rocks glass in hand, amber liquid about a finger’s width in the bottom. No ice.

He stopped and looked at them when they entered. “I can’t believe this has happened to another student. Will you tell me who it is now? Not sure if the rumors are true. Was it Jayne Russell?”

She and Trent moved across the room, closing the distance between themselves and the associate dean, but still affording him space.

“It was. Did you know her well?” It felt like a sure bet he did and that was the reason for his emotional response this time.

“I do my best to know most of the students who go here, Detective,” he said drily and swigged back some of his drink.

“That wasn’t exactly an answer to Detective Steele’s question,” Trent said.

Amanda gave a discreet tug on the back of his shirt, hoping to tone down the aggression. “That’s understandable, but you were close to Jayne?”

He nodded wildly and ran a hand under his nose. “She’s my friend’s kid. I watched her grow up.”

Her shoulders and neck tensed. “We’re sorry for your loss.” The we had slipped in there again.

“What am I supposed to tell them?” He met her gaze, his eyes wet and wide.

“You don’t need to tell them anything. That’s our job. Just be there for them in the days ahead,” she said.

“Will you two be informing them?”

“It’s our next stop.”

He downed the rest of his drink and set the glass on his desk with a thud. “What’s going on? Do you have any idea who is doing this?” He dropped into the chair, suddenly, almost as if his legs simply gave out beneath him.

“We’re still working on that,” she said. “The building that faces the area where she was killed, we understand that it houses classrooms and labs?”

“That’s right.”

“Are there any surveillance cameras mounted on the exterior that cover where the murder took place?” she asked.

“We have cameras, but you’d need to check with campus security to see if any are on that building.”

“Okay. We will. Also, is it normal for anyone to be on campus between three and seven in the morning?”

“I wouldn’t say so. Some security and janitorial or support staff—maybe some students or faculty making an early start.”

“We’re going to need your help,” she began.

He straightened his posture. “You name it.”

“We need to know the names of everyone—staff and students—who was here this morning between three and seven. Also their purpose for being here. Could you get that list together for us?”

“Consider it done.”

She handed him her card, even though she’d already given him one when they’d talked the other day. “My email is on there, along with my phone number, if you come across something else we should know. Thank you for your time and, again, sorry for your loss.”

The associate dean closed his eyes and let out a sigh, and Amanda and Trent left.

They hit the campus security office before heading out—no cameras on the building that faced the water. There was one, however, over the doors that led into the administration building. Amanda told them to expect a warrant for the footage.

“We get the list of students and staff who were there this morning, and the video should only back that up,” she said to Trent as they walked back to the car.

“Only if they went into the main building.”

“It’s what we have to work with. But it’s also possible someone will show up on the feed who didn’t come forward as being here in the first place.”

“Ah, that’s who you’re really interested in.”

“Yep, and if that person exists, it might very well be our killer.”

“If I were the killer, I’d come forward with a valid reason for having been on campus, so that I wouldn’t stand out.”

They got into the car, and she chewed on his words. She hated to admit Trent could be right. “I have a feeling our killer is right under our noses.”

“Luke and/or Stephanie?”

“Could be. Them or someone else. Either way, this person blends in and is able to do what they do without being seen.” As she said the words, pressure settled on her shoulders. It was like they were chasing a ghost. All they truly had was circumstantial evidence and suspicion paired with a shadowy figure on the park’s security camera. And a twenty-year-old cold case—if it even factored in. “Stay on top of that Metro PD detective.”

“Will do.”

“We also need to follow up on the payment history from the car service app.”

“I’ll handle that too, once back at the station.”

They got into the car, and he clicked on the keyboard for the onboard computer. “The Russells live in Dumfries.”

“Let’s get this over with.” For the second time in a week, she’d have to tell parents that their daughter had been murdered.