Just Past Midnight. Amanda Stevens

and he’d seemed almost pathetically grateful for any scrap of attention that came his way. But at the same time, Richard always had the feeling that with one wrong move, the animal would just as soon go for his jugular.

      He got that same vibe from Kane. The man certainly had the appearance of a stray with his uncombed, dirty-blond hair, faded T-shirt and threadbare jeans. But just like his house, the unkempt facade was deceptive. His clothing and hair were clean, his fingernails neatly clipped. Either he had a split personality, or he wanted people to get an entirely inaccurate picture of him. Richard couldn’t help wondering why.

      Kane laid the .45 on the TV tray beside the recliner. “How did you find out about me anyway?”

      “We have a mutual acquaintance.”

      Kane snorted. “If you mean Max Tripp, don’t make the mistake of thinking his name carries any weight around here. I can’t stand that bastard.”

      “I’m talking about Michael Farmer.”

      “Who?”

      The one-syllable question was a little too abrupt. Richard would have expected better from a man like Kane. “Let’s not play games here. You know the name. I can see it in your eyes.” He paused. “And in case Tripp didn’t make it clear, let me assure you, Sergeant, that anything you tell me about Michael Farmer will go no farther than this room.”

      “And why should I trust you?” Kane challenged.

      “I’ll give you several reasons.” Richard removed a wad of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and tossed them onto the TV tray next to Kane. “A thousand dollars just for answering a few questions. Not a bad day’s work, and no one outside this room ever has to know.”

      Kane glanced at the bills, then back at Richard. “I don’t know about where you come from, but down here, attempting to bribe a police officer could get you jail time.”

      “Then it behooves both of us to keep our mouths shut about this meeting.”

      Something that might have been respect crossed Kane’s features. “What are you after, Berkley?”

      “I want information about Michael Farmer. You do remember him, don’t you?”

      Kane sighed. “Yeah, I remember him. He was that college kid who died in a dorm fire up in Connecticut.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Hell, that had to be—what? Seven, eight years ago?”

      “It was seven,” Richard confirmed. “I have a few questions I’d like to ask you about that fire.”

      Kane’s gaze narrowed. “Why? That kid’s family bringing a lawsuit against the school or something? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

      “Being a cop, you should know there’s no statute of limitation on murder.”

      Kane looked startled. “Murder? Who said anything about murder?”

      “You did.” Richard studied the man’s expression. He hadn’t figured Kane out yet, but he would. He’d become adept over the years in interpreting every blink, flicker and tic of a witness or juror. So far, Kane remained an enigma. “Seven years ago you hinted to at least one person at Drury University that you thought Michael Farmer had been murdered by his girlfriend.”

      Kane rubbed the stubble on his chin. “What if I did? I never could prove it, and besides, the university was more interested in hushing the whole thing up than they were in getting at the truth. Murder would have been bad for their reputation. Not a lot of parents want to send their kids off to a school—especially one with Drury’s price tag—that can’t protect them.”

      “You worked for the campus police department back then. According to the official record, you were the first officer to respond to the fire.”

      Kane nodded. “I was on patrol that night. I happened to be driving by the dorm when I heard the alarm go off. Then I saw smoke coming out of some of the upper-level windows, and I called it in.”

      “You did more than that,” Richard said. “From what I understand, you rushed into the dorm and helped people get out. You were credited with saving lives.”

      Kane shrugged and glanced away. He appeared uncomfortable with the accolades. “I was just doing my job, and yeah, luckily, most of the kids did get out. Everyone except Farmer. Nobody thought to knock on his door because he was supposed to be away for the weekend. The best we could figure, he had a sudden change of plans and didn’t tell anyone.”

      “So no one knew he was there.”

      “Right.”

      “Except possibly the girlfriend.”

      Kane’s gaze lifted. Something dark flickered in his eyes. “Right again.”

      Richard got up and paced over to the window to stare out for a moment. The neighborhood where Kane lived was isolated and quiet. One of those places that seemed to wear a perpetual air of foreboding, as if the things that went on there at night were best not examined by daylight.

      Richard suppressed his own feeling of foreboding as he turned back to Kane. “The police thought the fire started in Michael’s room.”

      “That’s what they thought, yeah. According to the coroner, Farmer had been drinking. He had a blood alcohol content of .06, and traces of an opiate showed up in the tox screen. The police and the medical examiner concluded that the kid was so hammered, he passed out in bed with a lit cigarette and never woke up.”

      “But that wasn’t what you thought.”

      Kane remained silent for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice had grown cold with suspicion. “Why are you asking all these questions now?”

      Richard came back over and sat down. “It’s taken me a long time to track you down, Sergeant. Houston is a long way from Connecticut.”

      “So?”

      “I’m wondering what brought you all this way.”

      The suspicion deepened in Kane’s eyes. “And I’m wondering how you think that’s any of your damn business.”

      Richard shrugged. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

      Kane’s expression told him he wasn’t buying it. “Let’s just say, I got tired of the cold. I moved to Houston because I’m a sucker for smog and humidity.”

      “And because you were born and raised in Texas?” When Kane didn’t respond, Richard said softly, “That wasn’t hard to figure out, Sergeant. You didn’t get that accent just by living here for a couple of years.”

      “I’d still like to know what the hell you’re after,” Kane muttered.

      “Just the truth.”

      Kane sat forward suddenly, his expression tight with anger. “You want the truth about Michael Farmer? Here it is, then. Seven years ago, I wasn’t much older than most of the kids at Drury, so I got to know some of them pretty well. They liked to talk and I liked to listen. Word around campus was that Farmer was a real weirdo.”

      Richard had to tamp down his sudden anger. “What do you mean?”

      Kane shrugged. “He kept to himself, didn’t make friends. There was even talk of a suicide attempt. Then he met Danielle Williams.”

      “The girlfriend?”

      “Yeah. Nice-looking chick. Nothing spectacular, but a lot of the guys had a thing for her, including Michael. He used to follow her around campus like a little lost puppy. It was pretty pathetic.”

      Richard’s voice sharpened. “Wait a minute. He followed her?”

      Kane nodded. “She wouldn’t have anything to do with him at first. She didn’t seem to have much use for any of those guys. Always acted like she was kind of afraid of them. But I think that was just part of her game.”

      “What