Teacher's Pet

He narrowed his eyes. "I get it. Your father is in trouble for a plagiarism case, and I'm the defendant. It makes sense that you'd come after me to get at the truth. I just didn't think you'd drag Carl into this or try to flirt the truth out of me."

I swallowed hard then jutted my chin up at the tall man. "It seems to me like you would want to defend the man that defended you. Unless there's more to the story than anyone else has heard."

Brian ground his teeth but gave in. "The whole story is completely boring. I wrote a paper for the assignment. The paper was switched while I was at football practice. When Dean Dunkirk confronted me with the plagiarized paper, I didn't recognize any of it. It wasn't mine; I didn't write it."

"Then who did? Where did it come from?" I asked. I blinked away a hot wash of tears.

"Come on, Clarity, you're trying to protect your family. You know how it is," Brian said.

"No," I snapped. "I don't know how it is. I'm not just trying to protect my father; I am trying to find out the truth. Wait," his words sunk in. "Are you trying to protect your family?"

Brian scowled. "I'm not saying anything else. I already told that nosy professor everything. Though I wish you had gotten to me first. Maybe my uncle would understand if I confessed everything to a pretty girl."

"Which professor?" I asked. My heart slammed against my ribs.

"You know, your professor. The reporter all the girls drool over. What's his name? Like a car or something."

"Ford," I ground out. "Ford Bauer."

"That's the guy you need to talk to."

#

The frustration almost stopped my fingertips, and I struggled with my phone all the way across campus. Not only had Ford beat me to the first interview, but he had gotten more information. Once Brian realized I flirted with him just for information, he clammed up.

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Brian was too smart to need to plagiarize his paper. Clearly, the paper had been switched, and the only motive for doing so seemed to be my father's undoing.

Finally, I punched the right information into my phone and found Ford's home address. The tires squealed on my car as I pulled out of the student parking lot and headed off Landsman’s campus. I tore through the idyllic neighborhoods that surrounded our prestigious college and whipped into the parking lot of the apartment building where Ford's address was listed.

When I reached the door and hammered on it, a thought surfaced that made me catch my breath. What if someone saw me at Ford's place? What would campus gossip do with the knowledge that I had come to Ford's apartment alone?

Footsteps approached the door, then Ford let out a string of expletives. Obviously, he had had the same thought as me.

"You shouldn't be here, Clarity," Ford said as he opened the door to his apartment.

"Yeah, well, propriety or not, I'm here," I snapped. I elbowed my way past him and inside.

Ford turned around and shut the door behind us. Then I noticed he was still damp from the shower, with nothing on but a faded pair of blue jeans. The tee-shirt he held was knotted in his fist, and he forgot about it as he glared at me.

"Your father told me he wanted you to stay out of it," Ford said. "Don't you think this might make everything worse? What if someone saw you come here?"

"You're the one that answered the door half-naked," I said. It was hard to look away from the chiseled muscles of his chest or the dark dusting of hair that lead down past the loose waistband of his jeans. "I think you owe me an apology."

Ford raised a dark eyebrow. Then he yanked his tee-shirt on, and his expression changed. Gone was the angry glare and the bemused sparkle. Instead, he looked relieved. "I've been trying to apologize to you ever since..."

"Ever since you and my father treated me like a child?" I asked.

His lips quirked but his expression remained the same. "Ever since we kissed. I should have told you immediately. My head was all turned around. I tried to tell you at Thanksgiving," he said.

My stomach did excited flip-flops, but I waved his topic away. "No, I'm not letting you distract me from the matter at hand," I said. "You have information that can prove my father's innocence, and I want to know exactly how you are going to use that information."

Ford's eyes turned a stormy gray. "I know you're stuck on that, Clarity, but we need to straighten a few things out between us."

"Later," I snapped. "You can prove my father didn't help Brian Tailor cheat. That will save his career. And, we have a chance to tie it to Michael Tailor and be done with his corrupt interference at Landsman College for good."

A dark blue washed into Ford's eyes as he studied my face. "I admire your optimism, Clarity. I really do. The belief that the truth will solve everything is a very powerful way to lead your life."

My chest ached. "Except?"