CHAPTER ONE
Claire McCormick sighed heavily when she saw the professor’s name on the letter.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.” she mumbled.
“Who? Colin Willis?” came a voice from across the office.
Claire looked up at the other secretary and nodded. “Yeah, I just don’t understand why would anyone would want to kill him.” She set aside the letter and continued going through the papers she had to put away. “He was my favorite professor. He was so encouraging and fun, and I used to always look forward to his classes.”
The secretary, Nancy Giordano, shook her head sadly. “Yes, it was a big loss for all of us. Such a pleasant man. Even worse,” she stood up to use the copy machine. “There hasn’t been arrests or any leads. Nothing has happened!”
Claire could only nod. Two weeks had passed since the death of Colin Willis, and the case seemed to have already run cold. The professor was found dead in his Brooklyn apartment after neighbors reported a foul odour coming from there. Willis was found on his bedroom floor, his throat slashed open. There was no evidence of forced entry, robbery or anything of the like. From what Claire had heard, it was as though someone calmly walked into Willis’ apartment, killed him without a fight and calmly walked out.
She blinked a few times to clear her mind. She didn’t want to spend too much time dwelling on how the professor died or sadness would weigh her down. Instead, she focused on getting her work done for the day. Claire worked part-time at the English department at Richmond College, a small private institution in New York City. Although she had graduated a few months earlier, she kept her job as she struggled to find work.
Even Nancy seemed to want to change the mood of the office. She went back to her cheerful humming and even brought up a subject that always lit Claire up. “How’s your niece doing?”
“She’s doing very well!” She beamed. “Ava is learning to sit up by herself. She is getting so big! I should have new pictures to show you soon since my sister-in-law is always taking pictures!”
She finished going through the papers and went over to the filing cabinet to begin filing them. Looking at the clock above the cabinet, Claire almost smiled again as she saw it was fifteen minutes to five.
But it was who entered the office right then that prevented her from smiling altogether.
He strolled in calmly and casually, not making a grand entrance in hopes of being noticed. He politely said hello to Nancy, who was back at her desk and had tightened up by the mere sight of him, but he did not appear to notice. He then nodded at Claire, who mumbled “Hi” back to him, but was taking in his appearance. She could have glanced at this man and continued filing away the papers. But it was what he wore that made her almost stare.
It was eighty-five degrees outside, partly cloudy with the sun peeking out now and then, and the man was wearing a long sleeved red shirt buttoned up except for the top one at the collarbone. On his legs were slim khakis, brown socks and loafers. How could this person dress like that in the heat?
Upon examining this stranger’s attire, she also noticed his skin, or what little was shown of it. Despite the three months of summer, the man was noticeably pale, almost sickly looking. Was there something wrong with him?
After acknowledging his odd appearance, Claire noted the rest of him. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, a little under six feet of medium build with light brown hair and blue-green eyes. She also saw that he was handsome, with high cheekbones framing his face. However, his clothing overwhelmed his good looks.
“Laura Matthews will be available shortly, Daniel,” Nancy was telling him, saying the chairwoman’s name. “Have a seat and she will see you in a few.”
“Thank you, Nancy,” the man responded politely but distantly, with a cultured sounding accent. Claire couldn’t tell whether it was British or not, but it certainly wasn’t American.
He went to sit on the cushioned chairs against the wall, opposite the filing cabinets. That was when she saw he had a satchel over his shoulder, the type many professors carried around campus. If this Daniel was a professor, why hadn’t she ever seen him during her four years at Richmond College?
Nancy was talking to the man, though in a more guarded tone than her usual perkiness. “Daniel, how was your summer in Australia? I understand you did some reporting Down Under?”
Over at the filing cabinet, Claire’s ears perked.
“It was a great trip, as always. Spent time with friends and family, got a lot of work done. Can’t complain,” Daniel answered.
“You went to Australia for the summer?” Claire left the cabinet drawer open and walked over to the professor. “Do you go there often?”
Daniel looked over at Claire, sized her up and replied, “Yes, I have relatives and friends in Sydney. The summer is my one chance to see them.”
“And you’re a reporter? For what publication?”
“Many. I’m a freelancer.”
Nancy put on one of her broad smiles. “Claire graduated from our English Writing program this past May. She’s been doing some freelancing ever since, but it is difficult out there.”
Claire felt a bit embarrassed that the secretary introduced her to Daniel in this way, but he didn’t seem too fazed. Instead, he raised his eyebrows, slightly intrigued “A freelance writer? And what was your name again?”
“Claire. Claire McCormick. I work here part-time.” Why did she say the last part?
“Where have you been published?”
“A few places online and local newspapers, nothing too spectacular. And I interned for a bi-weekly Brooklyn magazine.”
“So, I take it writing is really something you want to do?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I like to write. I like to tell stories and inform people. Writing is how I communicate to the world.”
Daniel smiled. “That’s always good to hear. You can tell when someone is serious about the written word.”
“Are you an international journalist?” Claire knew she looked stupid standing before this person in the middle of the office, gushing about writing and traveling like a wide-eyed young girl. But she too eager to learn about what seemed like an exciting life.
Daniel smiled again, though this time he seemed to hold back a laugh. “Yes, in some degree. I am not world famous or else I wouldn’t be here.”
“Where have you’ve been published?”
Daniel named off some magazines and websites for men, traveling, lifestyle and even one major news outlet. “I’ve been freelancing for six years and I still have to fight my way to get published. As I said, I am not world famous, so I still feel the competition.”
Before she could ask any more questions, Laura Matthews appeared in the doorway to her office. She gave Claire a stern look, which sent her back to filing the papers, and called in Daniel. He walked in without speaking, and closed the door behind him. Once that happened, Claire immediately shut the cabinet she was working on and rushed over to Nancy’s desk.
“Who is he? How come I’ve never seen him before?”
“That’s Daniel Bertrand, he’s an adjunct professor here. He only started last year and only works nights. Since he’s new, he gets stuck with the 101 classes,” Nancy answered as she shut down her computer.
“Really? No wonder why I’ve never seen him before.” She thought back on the conversation. “He said he’s been freelancing for six years. Is he working on his PhD?”
“No, I understand he got his two years ago.”
“Two years ago? Nancy, he doesn’t even look old enough to have one.”
“Yes, I know. I always assumed he just looks young for his age. I’ve heard he’s about thirty years old.”
Thank you Silvia for hosting this part of my blog tour! I really appreciate it!
My pleasure, Megan! 🙂
Definitely sounds like my kind of story.
Thanks Emma! Hope you enjoy it! 🙂