A Faint Cold Fear
assignment. 'Call over to Macon and see if we can get some dogs out here.'
    Chuck crossed his arms over his chest. 'I'll get a couple of my people-'
    Jeffrey jabbed a finger at the other man. 'Keep your people the fuck out of my crime scene,' he ordered.
    Chuck stood his ground. 'This is college property.'
    Jeffrey pointed toward the dead boy on the riverbed.
    'The only college business you've got is finding out who that kid is and telling his mama.'
    'It's Rosen,' Chuck said, defensive. 'Andy Rosen.'
    'Rosen?' Lena echoed.
    Jeffrey asked, 'Did you know him?'
    Lena shook her head no, but Jeffrey could tell she was hiding something.
    'Lena?' he said, giving her the opportunity to come clean.
    'I said no,' she snapped, and Jeffrey was no longer sure if she was lying or just dicking around with him.
    Either way he didn't have time for her games.
    'You're in charge of the search,' Jeffrey told Frank.
    'I've got something to do.'
    Frank nodded, probably guessing where Jeffrey had to go.
    Jeffrey told Chuck, 'Have the mother in the library for me to talk to in an hour.' He indicated Lena with his thumb. 'If I were you, I'd take Lena to do the notification.
    She's had a lot more experience at this kind of thing than you have.'
    Jeffrey let himself look at Lena again, thinking she would be appreciative. From the way she looked back, he could tell she didn't think he'd done her any favors.
    Jeffrey always kept a spare shirt in his car, but no amount of rubbing would get all the blood off his hands. He had used a bottle of water to clean his chest and upper body, but his fingernails were still rimmed with red. His Auburn class ring was caked in it, dried blood around the numbers from his football jersey and the year he would have graduated if he'd stuck around.
    Jeffrey thought about the famous line from Macbeth, knowing guilt was magnifying the blood, making it seem worse than it really was. Tessa should never have been on that hill. Three seasoned cops with guns less than a hundred feet away, and she'd been stabbed nearly to death. Jeffrey should have protected her. He should have done something.
    Jeffrey pulled into the Linton driveway, parking behind Eddie's van. Dread filled him like a virus as he forced himself to get out of the car. Since Sara and Jeffrey's divorce, Eddie Linton had made it clear that he thought Jeffrey was no better than a piece of shit smeared onto his eldest daughter's shoe. Despite this, Jeffrey felt a real affinity for the old man. Eddie was a good father, the kind of father Jeffrey had wanted when he was a kid. Jeffrey had known the Lintons for over ten years, and, during his marriage to Sara, he'd felt for the first time in his life like he belonged to a family. In a lot of ways, Tessa was like a little sister to him.
    Jeffrey took a deep breath as he walked up the driveway. A cool breeze brought a chill, and he realized he was sweating. Music was coming from the back of the house, and Jeffrey decided to walk around rather than knock on the front door. He stopped suddenly, recognizing the song on the radio.
    Sara did not like a lot of fuss and formality, so their wedding had been held at the Linton house. They'd exchanged vows in the living room, then had a small reception for family and friends in the backyard. Their first dance as husband and wife had been to this song.
    He could remember what it had felt like to hold her, feeling her hand on the back of his neck, lightly stroking the nape, her body close to his in a way that was at once chaste and the most sensual thing he'd ever felt. Sara was a terrible dancer, but either the wine or the moment had conferred upon her some kind of miraculous coordination, and they had danced until Sara's mother reminded them they had a plane to catch. Eddie had tried to stop her; even then he did not want to let Sara go.
    Jeffrey pushed himself to move again. He had taken one daughter away from the Lintons that long-ago day, and he was about to tell them they might

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