Fair Game by Josh Lanyon Read Free Book Online

was with the maintenance man. Granted some people just had an aversion to cops and ex-cops, but Ray seemed to treat everyone to that same sparkling personality. Maybe he just hated his job. Mopping up other people’s shit was no picnic—as Elliot could testify.
    The president’s house was one of the oldest buildings on the PSU campus, a brick mansion in the traditional Tudor-Gothic style surrounded by coral rose bushes.
    Sandie, President Oppenheimer’s assistant, opened the door to him and led him through to a long room with beautiful windows overlooking the roses. The furniture was all white, the furnishings a clever mix of navy-and-delft-blue florals and checks. The overall effect reminded him of Blue Willow pattern china.
    “Elliot.” Charlotte came to meet him, offering both hands. She looked older than her fifty-seven years, but she was still what they used to call a “handsome” woman: a little heavy, a little matronly, but elegant and beautifully groomed in a gray silk pantsuit the exact same shade of her hair.
    “How are you, my dear? How are you feeling these days? We get so little opportunity to see you.”
    It wasn’t exactly a criticism, or if it was, it was the gentlest kind.
    “I’m settling in,” Elliot replied, which was what he always said. “Still finding my way around.” If he was still finding his way around after seventeen months, he was permanently MIA, but Charlotte probably knew it was the geography of the heart he was struggling with and not finding the science building.
    “And how’s Roland? Still working on the book?”
    “That’s what I hear. I think it’s his way of getting out of helping me refinish my kitchen cabinets.” Totally bogus. Roland had done the cabinets all on his own before Elliot was even out of the hospital, but Elliot didn’t want to discuss that book, that memoir of Roland’s misspent youth as an outlaw radical. He loved his dad and admired the strength of his convictions, but his feelings were mixed about a book wherein Roland celebrated trying to bring down the institutions Elliot had sworn to protect and uphold.
    “And how are you adjusting to island life?”
    “I like it.” That at least was the truth. Elliot hadn’t cared for Seattle. He liked the quiet and solitude of Goose Island for all its inconveniences.
    “No problem with the ferry?” She was smiling, but Elliot began to feel uneasy. Why exactly was he here? He sensed that under the gracious poise, Charlotte was worried—thus the stalling with small talk. She was not ordinarily a woman who beat around the bush. In fact, most of the time she reminded him of SAC Montgomery.
    As though she read his mind, Charlotte said, “Elliot, the reason I dragged you over here this morning is we’ve had something come up and I thought perhaps I might consult you unofficially.”
    “Consult me?”
    Charlotte started to speak, but paused as Sandie brought coffee in on a tray. Charlotte thanked her assistant, reminded her to hold all calls, and Sandie departed. Next came the rigmarole of how much cream, how many lumps of sugar, would Elliot like a cookie, and then, finally, Charlotte seemed to steel herself.
    “I don’t know if you’re aware that a few weeks ago one of our students disappeared from campus. A young man by the name of Terry Baker.”
    Old habits died hard. Elliot raised his eyebrows in inquiry and waited to see where this was going before committing himself.
    Charlotte cleared her throat. “Terry was an excellent student and, by all accounts, very responsible, but kids are kids. It’s not that we didn’t take his departure seriously, but there was no evidence whatsoever of foul play.” She held Elliot’s gaze with what he felt was almost defiant steadiness. “However, another young man is now missing.”
    Elliot set his cup down. “When you say ‘now missing’…?”
    “Gordie’s aunt, with whom he lives, reported him missing to the police. Unlike the Baker boy, Gordie is the