“Is that…” Tony tries to think of the right words. “Is that a good idea? I mean, she’s unstable…”
“And he’s a student who needs to focus on his academics. Her mental health is not his responsibility.”
It echoes everything Tony has thought about himself and Daniel so sharply it makes Tony flinch. “You’re right.”
“I know it sounds callous.”
“I’m guessing you didn’t just tell him to do it.”
“No, of course not. It was his idea. I told him he should prioritize his own needs. No one else will do it for him.”
“Sound advice.” At the memorial for Professor Lawrence, Tony agreed with it wholeheartedly. The other night at the pizza place, he thought a little less kindly of Sean, but he had so much anger and resentment getting in the way. Still, Tony remembers those dress shoes and Sean’s entitlement about room searches. “Although he doesn’t seem to be struggling.”
“Appearances can be deceiving. And many of our students are wealthy adolescents who’ve never been on their own before. That can be its own struggle.”
“I guess. So no dice on Lily?”
Colette shakes her head. “She probably has nothing to do with this.”
“Daniel would have said if he was meeting her.”
Wouldn’t he? Or would he hide it to protect Tony from his own worries? But then, surely, he would tell Colette she needed to take the bus home. And why would he leave his office unlocked and turn his phone off? It’s not like him, and the only explanation could be—has to be—
“Tony.” Colette’s firm voice snaps him out of it. “We can’t do anything now except wait. It’s only been an hour or so.”
Tony agrees shakily. “Sorry. My brain is…a mess. Let me drive you home. I’ll make dinner, and we can wait up for Daniel together.”
“The human brain often is messy. Thank you.”
He makes pasta with store-bought pesto and some cherry tomatoes, and because he’s feeling anxious, he toasts some additional pine nuts to go along with it. Pine nuts are too expensive to use regularly in Tony’s opinion, but maybe eating something that costs as much as his wiper blade replacement will distract him.
Colette watches from one of the bar stools by the kitchen counter. “It was probably the husband,” she says conversationally while Tony rinses the cutting board.
The board slips out of Tony’s hands and clatters into the sink.
“Statistically, I mean,” Colette continues. “Amelia Lawrence was probably killed by her husband, and Lily Peterson has nothing to do with it. Most violent crimes are committed by intimate partners.”
“That sounds like you took it fromBones.”
The stool creaks as Colette leans forward on it and rests her elbows on the island. “A stopped clock is right twice a day. It wasn’t only the husband’s outburst at the memorial. Amelia talked about how difficult it was raising a child when she had to work all the time.”
Tony turns around to eye Colette suspiciously. “She told you that?”
Colette looks away. “She told other colleagues.”
“You’ve been snooping.”
“Staffroom exchanges are not snooping.” Colette says it with a hefty dose of dignity, but she’s lying through her teeth.
“Come on.” Tony ladles a spoonful of the hot pasta water into the pan the pesto is heating up in before dumping the rest of the noodles into the strainer. “You’re not teaching high school. You don’thavea staffroom. You had to go all the way to the psych department to find someone to ask.” In point of fact, he didn’t know this about college professors until he started spending time with Daniel, but he does know now.
“I did not.” Colette maintains the facade until Tony tosses the pasta into the pesto pan, stirs it, and then plates it up. He’s dotting the top with cherry tomatoes and pine nuts when she finally admits, “I happened to chance upon a few psychology professors in the dining hall.”
“You hate the dining hall.”
“It’s practically inedible. I don’t know why anyone would eat there. I suppose hard scientists are gluttons for punishment.”
Tony laughs and slides her plate across the kitchen island along with a fork. She digs in immediately. “So did you learn anything else?”