Zing! The device trills as I pull it out of my backpack and level it at Kenneth’s chest. “Don’t take another step.”
Kenneth freezes, eyes sizzling. His stance is fluid, like an animal hunter poised to spring on its prey unaware. “You can’t be serious. You think I’d hurt you, after everything?”
My mouth goes dry as I realize the look in his eyes is fury, and I’m his prey. “I don’t know what to think anymore, Kenneth.” But my hand wavers. Can I really tase him? Do I have what it takes?
His cruel mouth tilts upward as Kenneth takes another step closer, daring me to do it. Doubt is written in the smile lines around his mouth. He doesn’t think I will do it.
Swish. The sharp darts of the device shoot forward and embed themselves in the front of his shirt. His body seizes as a low crackle fills the air.
I do have what it takes.
My hair stands on end as Kenneth topples to the floor and doesn’t move even after the device stops firing. Speechless, I gape down at his rigid body sprawled over the tile floor. Even though I felt no effects of the taser’s zap, my muscles have locked in place.
Kenneth groans. Tries to sit up.
Bending down, I pry the barbs out of his skin, making him growl.
My eyes widen in shock. That tone. I recognize it.
Stop looking into Rook’s death, or I’ll kill you.
“That was… uncalled for,” he rasps, lurching upward.
My hands are shaking as I reload the taser. “It was you. You attacked me in the hallway. You almost broke my nose! Why?”
He eyes my trigger hand warily, not wanting another round of the high-voltage shock. “I couldn’t have you looking into Rook farther, wondering where he got his supply. You know how expensive medical school is?”
“So you’re paying for it by dealing drugs?” My words rise, unbidden, until I’m shouting. In my surprise, I’ve dropped my weapon hand.
Kenneth lunges.
With a cry, I leap over him and scramble against the door. The knob won’t turn. He’s locked it without me noticing. Kenneth pushes to his knees, regains his feet. The taser clicks in my hand, but doesn’t fire. I must not have gotten the new cartridge in correctly. A roar in my ears obscures my hearing as my eyes scrabble over the back of the door for a weapon, anything. Heart pumping hot frenzied blood through my veins, I yank a clipboard out of its slot on the wall and hit Kenneth over the head with it as hard as I can. I am no Anne Shirley.
He yowls, rubbing at a bleeding gash under his hair.
I twist the tab to unlock the door and fling it open before Kenneth has a chance to hoist himself off the floor. Frantically, I shove my taser into my backpack, not bothering to watch where I’m going.
Bodyguard Steve leaps away from the wall as I barrel out of the hallway. “Miss, are you all right?”
The door of the health center slams against the wall as I fling it open. It makes a hammering thud against the wood paneling, but I don’t stop. I have to put distance between myself and Kenneth.
Several of the uniform-clad students in the hall swivel to look at me before resuming their walk toward the eatery. I’m thankful I don’t seem to warrant their scrutiny as I scrub a hand down my arm.
Good lord, Kenneth just tried to hurt me. Didn’t he?
I’m not thinking straight as I jog down the hallway, my chest heaving at the adrenaline shot that’s working my muscles in overtime. Which is why I run headlong into Grady outside the eatery.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “You all right?”
“My fault. Sorry.” I weave past him, but a hand shoots out and taps my arm.
“Wait.”
Bodyguard Steve glares at him, making Grady withdraw his hand.
Panting, I wave the older man away. Take a deep breath. “Thanks, Steve. I’m okay. Really.”
He doesn’t move, the set of his face somber. I doubt he believes me, since I was just fleeing from the health center like a bat out of hell.
“I’m glad I ran into you.” Grady’s hushed whisper pulls me up short. Turning toward him, I study his face. Grady tugs his gaze up to meet mine.
“Why were you looking for me?” I sound like I’ve just run a marathon.
Glancing around at the press of scarlet and navy bodies around us, he scoots toward the wall.
I follow him, avoiding bumping into my classmates as they stream along the hall and into the eatery for breakfast. The scent of sizzling bacon makes my mouth water, but I wait. Grady and I don’t usually talk much, and the fact that he was looking for me has my interest. “What’s up?”
He takes a deep breath. “You used to date the health center intern, right?”
I nod slowly, my pulse jumping at the memory of Kenneth stalking toward me moments ago. “I did. Not anymore. Why?” The words come out sharper than I intend, but I don’t retract them. Girls are so focused on being polite sometimes that it’s a stumbling block to getting stuff done. Not me. “Results now, apologies later” should be my motto.
Grady hesitates. “Have you seen this?” Taking out his phone, he calls up a video.
It takes me a second to take in the massage tables and exercise equipment shown in the opening shot. It’s a chiropractor or physical therapy office. People are giving and receiving treatment in the well lit room. In the far ground, two men are hunched together. One in casual athletic wear and the other in a doctor’s coat. Athletic guy jabs White Coat in the chest. Their voices rise.
“I’ll end you,” athletic guy yells.
“This is not the place,” the other shoots back.
Athletic guy pushes the other man into the glass. The rattling reverberates through the room, attracting the attention of everyone there.
Athletic guy throws up a hand to wave off the therapist approaching him and walks out of frame.
My jaw drops.
The guy in the white coat? It’s Kenneth.
And athletic wear guy?
Professor Rook.
My head spins. Kenneth and the professor fought months ago, in full view of a bunch of people in this chiro/therapy office. What were they arguing about?
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter. The police will likely see it as a motive for Professor Rook’s death. “How did you find this?”
Grady points at the top of the screen. There’s a news headline there. Murdered Professor in Fight with Med Student.
Chattering fills the eatery, not masking the sound of the video as it spools out of someone’s phone. Loud and commanding attention.
Dread fills me as I peek around the corner into the large room. Groups of students are hunched over their phones. Showing their neighbors. The video spreads like wildfire through the student population here at the academy. Several heads rise to look my way.
Bolting behind the pillar to rejoin Grady, I scan the article, praying I’m not mentioned. My shoulders sag in relief as I reach the end of the short column. There’s no hint that Kenneth was involved with a student here. Thank goodness. Daddy would have a conniption if I was linked to this mess any further.
Apparently, the fight between Kenneth and Professor Rook occurred last October, two and a half months before the hit-and-run that killed the professor. The scant information about Kenneth in the article leads me to believe they didn’t approach him prior to publication, or he refused to comment.