Eye for an Eye by Stephanie Black

Author:Stephanie Black
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: suspense;LDS;mormon;novella;moving;restart;new start;future;illegal drugs;drugs;guilt;family bond;innocence;innocent;danger
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2021-03-12T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

After his eleven o’clock class, Darien left the classroom with no idea what the discussion had been about. How could he help Mallory? As far as he knew, she was still sleeping in Dr. Agosto’s office. Earlier this morning, when the alarm she’d insisted on setting had beeped, she’d fumbled to cancel it, peered fuzzily at Darien, sitting at Agosto’s desk, and muttered, “I’ll get up in a minute.” An hour later, she was still deeply asleep, and Darien had had no inclination to wake her. He’d left her a note to call him as soon as she woke up and crept out of the office.

Now what? He’d reviewed and analyzed everything she’d told him. He’d input it all into a spreadsheet: what had happened, at what time, how Mallory interpreted each event, what Clint and Eden had said—as reported by Mallory—and his own thoughts.

He didn’t have enough information.

As he crossed campus, he debated what to do. Finally, he conceded that seeking out the other side of the story was better than hunkering down in his cubicle, uselessly wishing he knew more. This might be a mistake that would destroy his friendship with Mallory, but it was the most productive option he could think of, the clearest way to move forward. He checked the faculty directory and dialed the number for Dr. Clinton Westcott.

Voice mail. Darien cleared his throat and spoke. “Hi, my name is Darien Thomas. I’m a friend of your sister-in-law, Mallory Ingram, and wanted to talk to you about her.” He recited his number and hung up, slightly relieved that he had more time to think about what to ask Clint.

As he sat down in his cubicle, his phone rang. The number on the screen was the one he’d just called, and it provoked a sudden case of cold feet. He wrestled against the temptation to let the call go to voice mail. Don’t lose your nerve, idiot. Answer it. “Hello?”

“This is Clint Westcott, returning your call.”

“Thanks for calling me back. I was speaking to Mallory this morning—”

“Do you know where she is?” Clint interrupted. “My wife and I have been trying to get in touch with her.”

Darien wasn’t ready to share that he did know Mallory’s location. “Sir, I’d like to talk to you about that, but could we meet in person?”

“Are you near campus?”

“Yes.”

“I’m free right now if you can come to my office. It’s number 450 in the Yarborough Center.”

Praying that Mallory would forgive him for seeking information from her accuser, he said, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

The sky was overcast, and wind ripped leaves from the trees as Darien walked toward the Yarborough Center. On the fourth floor, he found Clint Westcott’s office. The door was open, and Clint stood to welcome him.

“Thanks for contacting me.” Clint was a sharp-dressed guy with a baby face, the type that would look young even when he had ten grandkids. He appeared tired, though not as exhausted as Mallory.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Darien said.

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