“How did they react to that?”
“They said that my own father’s disappearance was still so fresh in my mind, my thoughts were compromised. That I was overwhelmed and jumpy, and ready to see crimes and foul play everywhere. Essentially, I was too sensitive and traumatized to be looking into anything with any logic or validity,” I say.
“Damn,” Sam mutters.
“That’s a much nicer way of reacting to it than I did.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I think it’s time I pay them a little visit again.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
It wasn’t too long ago that Sam told me he was proud of me for finally being willing to ask for help when I need it. Well, this is definitely a situation when I need it. The pressure of time is on my shoulders, especially now that I realize I was late opening the calendar door and I’ve already lost time.
Knowing about Carla’s case from the very beginning gives me an advantage, but there’s little more to go on than that. I have to get the police involved. They have information I don’t, and those details are going to be critical to having any chance of finding out what happened to the purchases she made.
Flashing my FBI badge and giving a call to Sam helps to grease the wheels a little. I don’t actually know which of those made more of an impact, but at this point, I don’t really care. I need access to the information, and I need boots on the ground if the necessity arises. This isn’t time for arrogance or the need to feel that I’d made everything happen.
If they were more willing to speak to me because I’m in the Bureau and they recognize my name from that, fantastic. If it’s because I was already pushy about this years ago, that’s great, too. And if it’s because they respect Sam as a sheriff and a fellow member of law enforcement on that level, then that’s also great. Whatever it takes, I need what they have access to.
It takes some time, but I finally leave the department with copies of Carla’s file. Some of the documents are redacted and would require a court order to provide full information, but I can work with what I have.
My phone is ringing as I get into the car and I crank the engine over before answering it.
“Hello?”
“Is this Emma Griffin?” the man on the other end of the line asks.
“Yes, it is.”
“Hello, Miss Griffin. This is Ralph Peterson from Larsonville College.”
“Yes, thank you for getting back with me. I don’t know how much you know about the situation, but I’m willing to catch you up,” I say.
“Actually, I am well-versed in the situation with Julia Meyer,” he tells me.
“You are?” I ask, surprised.
Putting my phone on speaker and popping it into its holder on the dashboard, I drive away from the police station back toward campus.
“Yes,” he says. “Actually, I was working at the school back then. I’m a part of the student relations department.”
“I’m not familiar with that term,” I say.
“It was a fairly new initiative at the time, and cutting-edge in comparison with many other colleges. Essentially, the department acts as a human resources office for our students. When there are conflicts regarding interactions between students, or students and staff, this department gets involved. This is a small college. Not like U of A, where I understand Ms. Meyer eventually transferred. We go for a more family feel, and there tends to be a sense that everybody knows everybody. As you can imagine, it’s important to us to maintain that feeling and protect all of our students as well as our staff,” he says.
“I understand there are privacy concerns, and you will need to keep confidentiality, but I would appreciate any insights you can give me,” I say.
“Yes, we do keep these situations in the strictest confidence. I cannot discuss any specifics with you. However, I do have someone who is willing to speak with you about it. Considering Julia is not able to give her side of the situation, he is the only one who can appropriately answer your questions and give you any information that might be available,” Ralph tells me.
“Alright,” I say. “Who is he? How can I get in touch with him?”
“His name is Corey Matteo. I’ve already given him your contact information, and you should be hearing from him soon.”
“It was bullshit,” I tell Bellamy that night. She came over for dinner and to spend some time one-on-one, because we haven’t had the chance in a while. “The entire thing. She got railroaded and left school because of rumors.”
Bellamy takes a sip of peppermint tea and sets the cup down again. She’s been downing cups of the fragrant brew all night. She says it has the dual benefits of being both seasonal and good for settling her stomach.
“I don’t understand what happened. She was at that college for such a short time. What possibly could have happened?” she asks.
“Corey Matteo was the other half of the situation. According to him, Julia was a really sweet, friendly girl right from the beginning. He was part of the tour when she came to look at the campus and seemed really eager to get involved at the school. He said she wasn’t overly flirty or anything like that. Just excited to start college. Then he saw her again when she came for orientation, and there was something different about
