I pulled open the bedroom door a crack and eyed the security guards. They stood in the doorway with their arms crossed, looking around, but not moving. "What if they're here to plant evidence or something? I bet Michael Tailor's gotten to at least one of them."
Ford distracted me by stripping off the robe he'd been wearing. He pulled on a clean pair of black dress pants and a crisp, blue button-down shirt. "Know thy enemy," Ford said. He nodded towards the door, "and they are not it."
Ford opened his bedroom door and called to the security guards. "I suppose I shouldn't wear a belt, right? Any other jail house fashion recommendations? Shoes without laces?" Ford asked. "I'm not too sad about skipping the tie. Ties were never really my thing."
One security guard smiled, then looked at his colleagues and immediately sobered his expression. Ford walked out of the bedroom and went to his desk. "Hope you don't mind if I send a few emails, quickly."
"We're not the one the police are waiting for," the head of security said.
"Exactly," Ford agreed. "And I'm telling you, I'm no expert barista, but I'm betting my coffee tastes a hell of a lot better than the coffee at the police station."
The one security officer took a step towards the kitchen but the head guard shook his head. "We're ready as soon as you are, Mr. Bauer."
Ford leaned back in his desk chair and sighed contentedly. "Now that sounds good. The whole 'professor' title never really sat well on me."
I left him carrying on his relaxed, one-way conversation with the security guards while I slipped into the bathroom. Despite Ford's reassurances, I couldn't follow his easy-going lead. My whole chest was so contracted, I felt like I couldn't get a full breath. It seemed like months since I had had a normal day.
Everything was tangled together. Meeting Ford, feeling that first electric spark, and then having to extinguish it because he turned out to be a professor had tied me in knots. Then the discovery of the falsified application forms in my father's office. And, now even when the truth was supposedly out in the world, my father was still suspended and Ford was heading to jail.
I leaned over the sink and gaped at the cold porcelain. Tears wouldn't come but the grip of frustration and fear wouldn't let go. I fought my emotions for a moment, then gave up. I locked the bathroom door and yanked my phone from my pocket.
"Clarity! I've been worried sick!" my father cried as soon as he answered.
"Didn't you get my text message? Nevermind, you didn't think to look. I'm so sorry, Dad, I should have called. I'm fine."
My father took a deep breath. "Where are you? I just called Lexi and told her to keep you off campus. Please tell me you are holed up somewhere safe."
"I guess that depends on what you mean by safe," I muttered.
"What?" my father yelped.
My breath hitched. "I thought we'd all be safe once the truth was out. We published the expose article last night but the blow-back is insane. I didn't think it all the way through; I didn't know this would happen. I'm so sorry."
"Stop apologizing, Clarity," my father said. "You did the right thing and I'm proud of you. Of course it caused an uproar. You have no idea. They called me in the middle of the night to find out what students have access to the student newspaper website. I told them I couldn't help them."
I smiled. "That must have caused a whole other uproar."
My father chuckled. "It’s not my fault they don't keep track of student activities without me. They ended up having to call and wake up the entire IT staff. Those poor Landsman employees had to jump online last night and figure out how to take it all down."
"Have you been up to campus?" I asked. "From the looks of social media, the students are in an uproar."
"I'm so glad," my father said. "The student newspaper is built on the right to free speech and any tampering with it should cause an outrage."
"I'm just worried not enough people saw the article," I sighed.
"Clarity, please, whatever you do, don't go to campus."
The tone in his voice sent me into a panic. "What? Why? Is everything all right? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine. It's just a strange car parked outside our house really early this morning. Two men are just sitting in it, waiting. Lexi told me she heard that strange men have been asking around campus after you." My father's voice was strained and tight. "I think they somehow work for Michael Tailor and are trying to deliver some sort of message or threat."
I steadied my voice. "Maybe lurking around is the threat. There's no way Tailor would do anything. He's probably just trying to intimidate us."
"Well, it's working on me at least," my father snapped. "Please don't go on baiting these people. Can you promise you'll stay put? Where are you?"
"I'm at Ford's apartment. I've been here all night." I pushed on, hoping my father wouldn't pause to think of what that admission suggested. "And I'd love to promise that we're staying put, but campus security is here. The president of Landsman College just called to tell Ford the guards are going to escort him to the police station. He's being charged with libel."
"Campus security?" my father asked. "The president can't do that. This is not a college matter. I mean, it's tangled up with people that work at the college, but he cannot be compromising the safety of the students by sending the security guards to babysit an unruly faculty member."
"Oh, don't worry," I joked. "I'm pretty sure if he hasn't been fired, then Ford has quit."
"Even better," my father returned. "They're harassing an ex-employee. Listen, I've got an idea. Jackson Rumsfeld's wife is a defense attorney."
"Alice?" I asked, remembering her from Thanksgiving.
"Yes, and she's got quite an unshakeable reputation. I'll give her a call and see if she can advise Ford at all."
It was relief to hear my father's confidence return. "What can I do?" I asked him.
"Wait there. Stall the security guards and don't let Ford leave. I'm on my way, darling. We're all on the way to help."
The knock on the bathroom door made me jump a foot in the air. My phone clattered into the sink and I fished it out.
"Clarity? I don't think we can stall much longer. I thought you were ready?" Ford asked.
"Nope, not quite. In fact, I might take a shower," I said.
Ford rattled the door knob. "Unlock the door, Clarity. This isn't necessary. I'm ready to take my lumps. It'll be fine; you'll see. Journalists shouldn't have anything to fear from the authorities. I know my rights."
I unlocked the door and yanked it open. "Well, I'm sorry, we didn't quite get to that lesson in class before all this happened."
Ford smiled and leaned on the door frame. "I think it's already been established that I'm not the best professor."
I crossed my arms tight. "What am I supposed to do while you're being dragged off by security?"
He stood up and took my hand. "First, I think you should come out here and tell them about your fears. If you are afraid to set foot on campus, that is more their business than escorting me to the police station."