Ramsey turned his head. “You’re wasting your time with me. Cross my name off your list. I didn’t hurt Whitney, and I haven’t done anything to Maisey.”
Odin just waited. Ramsey hadn’t answered his question.
“You should be afraid of me,” Ramsey suddenly said. “Smart people are afraid. Dumbasses, too. You don’t want me for an enemy.”
“Well, I don’t want you for a buddy, either, so…”
“You’re fucking insane.”
Odin considered the situation. “You are the second person to tell me that today. Funny thing is, I feel completely sane. It’s the rest of the world that’s crazy.” He paused. “Why were you here?”
“She said she thought someone was following her,” Ramsey muttered. “I didn’t mention it last night, but Whitney—she said that she thought someone was following her one night when she left campus.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I wanted to put a guard on her right then and there, but she laughed. Told me that I was being too protective. That she probably had just imagined it, but that she’d be sure and exercise more care in the future.” His jaw hardened. “Said she’d get the security guard to walk her out if she stayed late again.” His fingers curled around the steering wheel. “I let it go. Some creep was following her, and I let it go. If I’d just put one of my men on her, she’d be safe right now.”
“She told you that she’d go to the security guard?” As far as he knew, Sandy hadn’t mentioned anything about Whitney needing protection.
“Yeah. That’s why I was here today. Wanted to have an up close and personal chat with the guy. Turns out he’s pushing ninety and couldn’t protect a damn fly. Whitney never told me that.” His knuckles whitened.
“You mean you came to threaten his ass then realized that if you used your usual tactics, you’d probably kill Sandy in minutes.”
Ramsey didn’t respond.
“Who’s next on your hit list?” Odin asked.
Ramsey angled his head so that he was looking at Odin. His smile was ice-cold. “Thanks to you—and a helpful blonde who talks very loudly—I now know the identity of your other chief suspect. I think I’ll see how long he can hold out against my, ah, ‘usual tactics,’ I believe you called them.”
Shit. The situation had just gone from bad to clusterfuck.
“Let go of the door,” Ramsey directed.
He didn’t. “Leave him alone. I’ll deal with Clay.”
“After I’m done with him, have a freaking field day.” He started the car. “Let go, or you’ll get dragged along. Your choice.”
The sonofabitch—
“Odin!” Maisey’s voice.
He let go. Ramsey shot away with a squeal of his tires even as Odin spun to find Maisey running toward him.
Jinx was trailing a few feet behind her. “Got eyes on her!” he called in his cheerful voice. “Perfect vision.”
She hurried to Odin. Her breath rushed in and out. “You were interrogating him without me!”
Guilty. He tossed a glare back at Jinx. “Couldn’t you keep her away for a little longer?”
“Didn’t realize that was part of my job. Thought I was just supposed to have my eyes on her. You need to make sure you’re clear when you give orders.”
Maisey’s hands flew to her hips. “Keep me away? Odin, why do you have such trouble understanding this is a partnership?”
He surged toward her. Loomed over her. “Ramsey is dangerous. Whether he’s tied to what’s happening or not, I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
“I can handle some danger. Haven’t I proven that?”
Why didn’t she understand this? “I don’t want you around danger.” You’re too important. And too vulnerable.
“Yes, well, I don’t want you running off and leaving me in the dark.”
“I’m the damn PI! I’m supposed to investigate.”
“And I’m the one who just realized why Whitney’s files were ransacked in the storage room.” Her lips tugged down. “It wasn’t her.”
He slanted a hard glance at Jinx.
But Jinx shrugged. “I have no idea what she’s talking about. Maisey just came running up and said she had to talk to you, ASAP. I pointed in the general direction you’d taken, and the game was afoot.”
Seriously?
One of Maisey’s hands flew up and pressed to Odin’s chest. “The caller last night wasn’t Whitney.” Sadness whispered in her voice. “You were right about that.”
“How do you know?”
“Because there were a few old tapes in those boxes of hers. Interviews that she’d conducted a long time ago. I remembered them when we were running out and the fire alarm was shrieking.” Her hand was right over his heart. “I told Sandy about them. He went back in as soon as he had the all clear. He searched, but said the tapes are gone.”
Jinx positioned himself beside Odin. “It would be easy enough to take a recording of Whitney talking and splice pieces together in order to make that call to Maisey.”
Yes, it would be. Too easy.
“It wasn’t her,” Maisey said once more. “He’s jerking me around. Trying to manipulate me.”
“More than that, sweetheart.” Her touch seemed to burn through his shirt. “He’s trying to kill you.” He hadn’t just wanted to injure her with the “accident” in the storage room. Or with the attempted abduction. The bastard’s goal was clearly to take out Maisey.
And that shit was never gonna happen.
Chapter Fifteen
“Now that you mention in it…” Sandy rubbed his chin. “I do remember Whitney coming to me and saying something about feeling a little nervous when she was heading to her car.”
They were in Sandy’s cramped office. The fire trucks had left. The crowd had finally vanished—and so had Clay. When Odin had returned to the Humanities building with Maisey, he’d discovered that Clay had cut and run from the scene.
Except Clay hadn’t been able to go too far. Jinx had tagged his car. They knew the man had just driven back to his house. And I’ll be seeing you soon to finish our talk.
But first…
Sandy.
“Whitney didn’t mention this to me,” Maisey fumed.
Sandy shrugged. “It was a one-time deal. I walked her to her car that night. After that, she came and said it had all been a misunderstanding. That she’d found out who’d tailed her, and it was just someone who’d needed a little help.”
“Help?” Maisey pounced on that. “Did she tell you what kind of help?”
He scratched his chin again. “No, and I didn’t ask.” His gaze fell. “Sure wish I had now, though.”
Odin let his gaze drift over the small security office. Stacks of paperwork. Campus flyers. A cold cup of coffee on the ancient desk. “What about the security cameras in the Humanities building? Did they catch anything useful today?”
“They were shut off.”
His gaze jumped back to Sandy. “Say that again.”