“Okay,” she said. “Friends.”
“As a friend,” Nick began when they’d settled back into their run, “I wanted to talk to you about why you’ve been skipping Corbett’s classes.”
This again.
“Make sure you go to the next one, okay?”
“Fine,” Teddy said. “No more talking. Just running.”
Nick smiled, flashing that killer dimple, and Teddy managed to stifle a groan. “See if you can keep up, friend.”
Oh, she’d keep up, all right.
CHAPTER THIRTY
THE WEEK PASSED TOO QUICKLY. On the morning of the trip to San Quentin, when Teddy stopped in the main office to pick up a pass to leave the island, the secretary handed her a note. “Professor Corbett wants to see you before you go.”
Teddy looked at the clock above the secretary’s desk. It was 8:51 a.m.
“He knows you’re leaving at nine.”
“Thanks,” Teddy said, trudging up the two flights of stairs to Clint’s office. This was the most important day of her psychic career so far, and Clint Corbett was going to make her late.
To say that she’d been avoiding Clint would be putting it mildly. Everyone had noticed that she had skipped his monthly Empathy 101 class. Since the midyear exam, other than passing him without a word on campus, she had completely and totally ignored him. Her stomach twisted as she made the familiar journey down the hallway to his office. She checked to make sure her shield was up, sending another surge of power just to be safe, then knocked once.
“Come in.”
Inside, his office looked the same: books strewn about, papers everywhere. The chalkboard in the corner held evidence of a puzzle to be worked out, something about mass and velocity. The screw encased in glass, which Teddy now knew came from Sector Three, was on his desk.
“You wanted to see me,” Teddy said.
He looked up at her. “I heard you were going to San Quentin this morning with Agent Stavros and Kate. I assume you’re going to use astral telepathy to enter McDonald’s mind.”
So this conversation was going to be all business. Nothing about what had happened between them. Teddy could keep it professional, too. “Yes.”
“Are you prepared?”
Teddy clenched her fists, trying not show any outward signs of emotion. She wanted to prove to Clint that she had her feelings in check. The truth was, no, she didn’t feel prepared. But if they were going to beat the Alphas and help Corey and Marlena, she had to at least try.
The Misfits hadn’t gained any more insight since they had reviewed the kits. They were confident, from Jillian’s communion, that Marlena had been strangled and, from Jeremy’s psychometry, that Corey was innocent. Teddy had read Romeo and Juliet ten times since she had swapped the book. Her team thought that once she was inside his head, she’d be able to use his memories to find new evidence that would exonerate Corey—set an airtight alibi, identify another suspect. Then they could focus on finding the real killer.
She was counting on Clint’s organizational strategy to help her. She was nervous that she would get lost inside Corey’s head, and the precious minutes she had in front of him would be wasted. Though she had seen random snapshots in Molly’s head, she’d never used the house inside anyone’s head but Clint’s. She’d never had to search for a memory, either. She didn’t know if she’d be able to synthesize what she knew about McDonald into a concrete structure, even. She reached for Romeo and Juliet, which she had tucked into her backpack that morning for luck.
From reading Corey’s notes, she’d learned that he was a smart and thoughtful kid. Observant. And it was obvious he’d loved Marlena. Every line about Juliet had been highlighted. The famous speech about seeing Juliet for the first time had so many notations, Teddy could barely read it.
Clint took off his glasses. “Teddy, this is about more than a competition between classmates. You’re doing real work now. This is why you’re at Whitfield. To help people.”
Teddy didn’t know when it had happened, but as she’d lost herself in the details of the case, the assignment had become about far more than winning. Marlena and Corey were real to her—to all of them. She had watched the team work until their nerves frayed. Jillian, Jeremy, Pyro, too. They had to help because they could help. As Clint had said all those months ago, they had to show up. “I know,” Teddy said.
Clint put his glasses back on. “Then all I can say is good luck.”
Teddy knew she’d been dismissed, but she had more to say. “So, we haven’t spoken in months. You know I’ve been missing your class. And all you want to do is make sure I know how important this case is?”
Clint looked at her. “Did you want to talk about something else?”
Of course she wanted to talk about something else. But the ferry was leaving any minute. “That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Teddy. But you have the chance to make it just. This is your job. So do it.” He returned to the file. “You’re going to miss your ride. I’ll see you in class this afternoon.”
* * *
After the ferry ride, Teddy found herself in the backseat of a government-issue Crown Vic, speeding southeast on Highway 101, through Marin County’s rolling hills. Any moment it felt like spring would take hold and the landscape would be green and lush, scattered with wildflowers. But at this time of year, everything looked brown and bare.
Nick had spent most of the car ride briefing them on what to expect once they arrived at San Quentin—how to move, how to talk, how to conduct themselves should the alarms go off during their visit. The only item they were permitted to carry inside was their identification, Nick explained;
