“Delacluse. Nicole Delacluse from the International Herald Tribune . Did you say you were Dr. Richards’s cousin?” She stared at him closely, reporter’s instincts in play.
Can she really see me? “Yes. Matthew’s father, Dr. Wilson Richards is in South America and asked me to come when I could to collect his personal effects. But not much is left. Seems his house burned down just after the accident.”
Matt decided to press his her. “And what are you doing here? Not much international news in a little out-of- the-way woman’s college is there?”
Her eyes stayed on him, burrowing deeper. “What say we move out of this cold wind and get some hot chocolate at the campus bistro? Or would you like something stronger?”
“Lead the way,” said Matt, checking Stubbs’ watch. It was mid-morning. Plenty of time before the maintenance shed closed for lunch, and he was curious about what this reporter was up to.
In the bistro, Nicole Delacluse continued to study him. “There’s something about you I can’t quite figure out,” she said after a long silence, then shook off the thought and took a sip from the piping hot mug.
“You were at that reception for Dr. Melikian, weren’t you?” Matt said.
“Hell yeah, I was at the reception-in fact, I saw your cousin, who happened to be drunk as a skunk, being dutifully escorted out by the Marines. Seems he fired a big roundhouse hook into Senator Mason Stevens’ fat face. I think he busted several teeth and broke his nose was well. There was blood everywhere.”
She grinned, then caught herself. “Hey, no offense-I’m sorry about your cousin…”
“Yeah, well, he was on a collision course-it was just a matter of time.”
She studied him again. “Anyway, I had a hunch there was a story brewing so I took a few pictures with my mini-digital camera. Nice photos of the unconscious senator. Then I headed for the front driveway.” She sipped her hot chocolate, still staring at Matt. “I saw Dr. Matthews with Senator Stevens’ buxom daughter. The good doctor was being strapped into the passenger seat of her Porsche. He was so drunk he passed out as soon as he hit the bucket seat. The parking attendant had to fasten his seat belt. I got a picture of that too.” The hot chocolate was rich and frothy and comforting. She cupped the mug in both hands. “This is nice. And the chocolate as well.”
“Yeah, nice against the cold,” Matt said. “As I said, he was on a collision course with life. It seems you think he was a bit of an asshole?”
“No, I only met him briefly at the reception. But from what I’ve heard here on campus he was a tortured soul-as well as quite a rascal.”
“And just why are you poking around asking questions about my cousin?”
“Well, first of all, the feds, or whoever they were, confiscated my camera. They told me it was a matter of national security. To which I replied with a very loud Bullshit. Then I read the report in the Washington Post the next day about the accident. It stated that Dr. Richards was driving. But that’s impossible. He was passed out in the passenger seat. No one could recover that quickly and drive.”
“That makes sense.”
“Then when I told my boss at the Tribune about all this, he told me to drop it. He said it was old news and to stay away from the Richards affair.” She shrugged..
“And it looks like you did exactly as you were told.” He couldn’t keep from grinning.
“No one tells me what I can and can’t investigate.” she said, her eyes hot. “I follow my instincts. And there’s something wrong about this whole affair. So I came to Sweet Briar to talk to a few of the teachers and students about the notorious Dr. Richards.”
“Find anything?”
“Not much. Your cousin was a drunk and a womanizer. He was having a heated affair with one of his students, who just happened to be Senator Stevens’ daughter. And she was a pothead, and a frequent cocaine user as well. She even supplied some of the girls in her dorm. Word is, she couldn’t function without a hit at least every 30 minutes. So what about you, Mr. Stubbs? Did you find any of your cousin’s things?”
Matt felt an anger. Kelly was buxom, so what? She took a hit now and then, so what? Just like him, Kelly had her demons but she was basically a good person. His messed-up life suddenly came rushing back at him. “Nothing left of the burned-out house,” he said. “But he did keep some personal effects in his office at the biology department. They were packed up and stored in the maintenance shed. I was just on my way there when I ran into you. Care to join me?”
Matt realized this woman reporter was both professional and tenacious. She knew he hadn’t been driving the car; she was smart. He needed someone on his side. He felt incredibly alone at the moment, and ruthless men were after him. I need to trust someone.
“Join you? Only if you pick up the tab,” she replied. “I never go to second base with a man who doesn’t pay the check.” They walked out of the warm bistro into the chilly air and headed for the maintenance shed.
“You certainly know your way around,” said Nicole, pulling up the hood of her quilted parka against the wind. She took in his rather thin jacket.
“They gave me directions in the Faculty office,” Matt said. He walked briskly to stay warm. This would be his last visit to the beautiful Sweet Briar College campus. Yet his mind was screaming it was time to leave, to get out of there while it was still safe.
An hour and a half later, they approached the faculty parking lot. Nicole had been giving him odd looks ever since they left the maintenance shed. “Okay,” she said, firmly grabbing Matt’s arm. “What the hell is going on? You said you came for Dr. Richards’ belongings, yet all you did was rummage through a few boxes and take an old leather journal. Who are you and what are you really after?”
Matt yanked his arm away. “Still working for the Tribune?”
“No. I’m on my own. I tried to get Dr. Richard’s death out of my mind and couldn’t, so I went to my editor and told him I wanted to investigate the Richards’s affair. He said no. I said yes. He said hell no. I said hell yes and told him to go fuck himself.”
“And?”
“He shit-canned me.”
“Do you always talk like a sailor?”
“Only when I’m drunk or angry. And I’m still pissed off at that SOB for sacking me.” She grinned sheepishly, cheeks colored in the cold wind. “So here I am investigating on my own. But I’m open for a good partnership. Assuming you level with me first.”
They resumed their walk and by the time they reached the VW Passat Matt had made his decision. His whole adult life had been a twisted tangle of drunken lies. It was time for a change. Matt stopped.
“What is it?” Nicole asked.
“I’m wondering two things: if you can stand the truth and how you just might have a terrific story – if it’s ever allowed in print.”
“Meaning what?”
“Okay. First, I’m trusting you with the truth.”
“I’m waiting. Spit it out.”
“I’m Matt Richards. And you’re right. I wasn’t driving that night, Kelly Stevens was.”
Her eyes narrowed in the cold air. “Bullshit. Go turn yourself in to some clinic. You may be nice, but you definitely need help.”
What can I say? Matt looked straight at her, wondering how to convince her. He smiled weakly.
“Something…” Nicole said, a professional gaze cutting into him.
“What? Something?”
“You’re not crazy. Something’s going on.”
Matt smiled and let out a long sigh. “Thank Christ for good reporter’s instincts.”
“So talk. The news reported Dr. Richards dead. It made the front page of the Washington papers and all the television stations-they even held a funeral.” She paused. “You don’t even look like him. Although I must admit, there is something familiar about you. But you’re definitely not Matthew Richards. So who are you and what’s going on?”
“Give me your hands. Come on, trust me. Give me your hands.”
Her hands were tense in his, ready to pull free. Slowly he directed them to the stitches under the hairline. “Feel the scars?”
As dispassionately as he could Matt told her what happened after he hit Senator Stevens. Everything from the
