Page 52 of What They'll Say About Us

"I don't have time to rest. I need to get answers," I said with frustration. "I feel like we're circling around something, but I'm not sure that something is the right thing."

"You mean Hale."

"Yes. Maybe I'll see what I can find out about him on the Internet."

"Good idea. I haven't done a deep dive on him. I've been trying to get more of a handle on your friend group."

"Then I'll focus on Hale," I said, opening my computer and getting to work.

Two hours later, I'd found little information of value. Hale had a social media page, but it was focused solely on the college's theater productions. His wife, Suzanne, seemed to follow health and wellness influencers and appeared to be active in several Chicago philanthropic organizations. Their daughter, Taylor, was a senior at UCLA. They looked like the perfect family.

I went further out on the internet, looking for student chat groups, but a lot of them were private, and the ones that were public revealed nothing beyond the fact that Professor Hale was still very popular.

"I have nothing," I told Morgan. "No hints of impropriety between Hale and any student, including Paige."

"It wouldn't be out in the open. It would be something that's being whispered about."

"I know, but I can't get into those whisper groups."

"It might take some time, but we'll find a way in."

"Morgan…"

"What?"

"I want to ask you something, and you need to be one hundred percent honest with me."

"I always am," she said, giving me a pointed look.

"Okay, here's the question: Do you think I'm focusing too much on Hale? Am I trying to find a reason to explain why Hale chose Paige over me? Am I creating this narrative of them sleeping together to make myself feel better?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

I frowned. "I don't think I am, but if it starts to look that way to you, rein me in."

"I will," she said with a smile. "But right now, I think Hale is a good suspect."

The doorbell rang, and I glanced at my watch. "Detective Barclay is ten minutes early."

"Better early than late. Maybe that suggests enthusiasm and not reluctance."

"I hope that enthusiasm is for helping me, not stopping me."

"Open the door, and let's find out."

Chapter Fourteen

Detective Barclay looked different when he entered the apartment. He'd gotten rid of the suit he'd worn earlier, exchanging it for dark jeans and a button-down shirt. He looked younger than his thirty-five years, which made him five years older than me. I'd done a little research on him before he arrived, wanting to know more about him. But I hadn't discovered much more than the basics.

He'd joined the local police department at the age of twenty-three and had worked patrol for seven years. He'd been twenty-six when Paige died and had been one of the officers on the scene when her body was pulled out of the water. I wondered how much he remembered about her, about that day, probably more than he would tell me.

As Morgan introduced herself and offered him a drink, I took another moment to study him, thinking again how attractive he was with his blond hair and blue eyes, the kind of man I would definitely swipe right on if I saw him on a dating app. He didn't wear a wedding ring, not that that necessarily meant anything, but I'd seen no sign he was married on his social media, which had also been very sparse. He had an account, which allowed others to tag him, but he had never posted anything himself. Maybe that was because he was a police officer, and he didn't want people to know too much about him.

As we sat down at the dining room table, I let Morgan lead the conversation. She went over the key points we'd discovered, either through my conversations or from Morgan's research.

Detective Barclay didn't interrupt, but his expression was difficult to read, so I really had no idea what he was thinking. Was he doing just enough to make us think he was going to help, when in reality, he wasn't going to actually do anything?

Frustrated by his lack of comments, I decided to jump to something that might force him to react.