I pulled open the doors to find that the class hadn't yet been dismissed. At least sixty students faced an enormous setup at the front of the room. Formulas filled the huge chalkboards on either side of a giant projection screen. On the digital screen, vaguely familiar information about something called the Double-Slit Experiment filled it. At the front of the class, a woman I assumed to be Doctor Lewis, stood with her back to us while writing on the chalkboard. Angelina and I dropped down to sit in two vacant seats in the back.
With straight black hair falling to the waist of her fitted dress, Doctor Lewis' rear view left much to the imagination. I propped my elbow on the desk, watching as she drew crazy lines and dots, while discussing wave-particle duality.
"I feel stupid as fuck in here right now," whispered Angelina.
"This is an intro course. I remember some of this," I told her.
"Your assignment tonight is in the syllabus," Doctor Lewis said before turning around to face the class. "I'll see you all again on Thursday."
Without so much as a mutter of gratitude, the students grabbed their books and stood, obscuring our view of the front of the classroom. We waited for the flow of them to dissipate before rising in our seats and heading down to the front. Doctor Lewis once again had her back to us as she swiped away her writing from the blackboard. I wondered if physics and math classes were the last to have old school chalk and paper mediums as a part of their lessons.
"Doctor Lewis?" I called out first. "May we have a moment of your time?"
"You may have a moment of my office hours tonight beginning at seven." The woman swung around, and I found myself taking a step backward as if expecting a tirade of reprimand from an old hag.
Except she was no old hag.
Cradled between the flawless mane of black lay the cold porcelain complexion of a much younger woman. Plump lips painted in crimson stood out against her pale skin and sea-green eyes. She was breathtaking and intimidating all in one. The dress I'd admired from behind covered most of her supple figure, though hugged her in ways that made my cheeks burn with heat. Professors never looked like this when I was in college. What the hell happened?
"Er…we're not students," I managed, on the tails of a gulp. My mouth parched and I stammered like a fool.
"Detectives Lubbock and Olsen," Angelina intervened, saving me from myself while holding up her badge. "Seattle P.D. We'd like a moment of your time right now if you could manage."
"Oh." The woman's icy demeanor faded in the blink of an eye. When she smiled, it met her eyes and she burst to life as if awoken from the aftermath of a still-birth. My heart gave a great leap when her gaze flickered to me then back to Angelina. "I'm sorry. Of course." She set the eraser down on the ledge of the chalkboard and turned her full attention to us. "My office is just there."
We followed her, and her black pumps, to the door off the side of the classroom.
Angelina elbowed me, her eyes wide with panic as she mouthed, "What's wrong with you?"
I shook my head, waving her off before clearing my throat. "Professor Lewis, are you acquainted with Dinah Simon?" I asked after pulling myself together.
Lewis' office, vast and insanely tidy, contained walls full of bookshelves without a single space for another to fit. Behind her desk, half a dozen accolades bearing her name hung on the wall. Some of them weren't in English, but all of them told of her successes in physics. Nuclear Physics, Quantum Theory, Astrophysics. What hadn't she done?
Professor Lewis turned around to face us, leaning against the desk as she folded her arms across her midsection in a protective gesture. Her expression softened with the narrowing of her brow. "I am. She's my teaching assistant. What's happened?"
Angelina's posture changed from confident cop to human in an instant. "We're sorry to deliver the news this way, but she was found dead this morning not far from campus. She had paperwork with your name on it, which is what brought us here."
In that moment, my first impression of the woman shattered. Any remainder of the coldness that froze her features slipped away, replaced only by the withered expression of loss. "Oh…" Was all she managed. She dropped her arms, and gripped the edge of the desk behind her, her gaze falling to the floor between us for a moment.
"Did you know her well?" I asked, taking a step closer as any intimidation this woman carried faded away. She met my gaze, her expression stoic now as she processed my question.
"Quite. She was a good student and assistant. When she didn't show up this morning, I wondered if something was wrong," she said, her voice soft. "Clearly, it was."
"Professor—" Angelina began, but Lewis lifted her hand.
"Mira."
"All right. Mira, when was the last time you saw Ms. Simon?"
"Last night. Um…" She glanced from us to the window between two shelves. Below it, a glass diorama of the solar system encased in a large crystal ball perched in the center of a wooden table. I wandered over to it, leaning down to examine the unique display. "Around nine," she continued. "We finished going over next week's lesson plans."
"Planck's Constant?" I asked which snapped her attention to me.
"Yes. And his quantum theory. You know physics?"
"A little," I said, coming to stand beside her. "We found some of her notes."
"Oh…" Professor Lewis cleared her throat. "How did she die?"
"She was—" began Angelina, but I cut her off.
"We're not totally sure yet," I said, glancing between them. "But we're investigating it as a homicide."
Despite her stoic nature, a single tear slid down Lewis' cheek. Her gaze lingered on mine, as if waiting for me to offer her more information or save her from the news she'd received. My stomach twisted, and I regretted telling her the truth. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice softer than intended.
She nodded, taking a quick swipe at the tear as she pushed away from the desk. "If there is anything else I can assist you with, Detectives, please let me know." And just like that, she rebounded as she settled herself in the rolling chair behind her desk. She crossed her legs, and lifted a red pen from the desk beside a stack of papers.
"We will," offered Angelina. "Thank you for your time, Professor."
She nodded to us, glancing from Angelina to me as we made our way to the door. I gripped the handle as I made to pull it closed, but when I peeked back inside, Lewis dropped her head in her hands.
I closed the door with a quiet click, and followed Angelina back to the car without another word.
Chapter Two
"How's school?" I asked Eleanor Sunday night as I dropped down to sit with her on the carpet in the living room. She accepted the can of soda I offered her after plucking out a slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table.
"Good. I got an A on both of my first papers," she chirped, smiling at me with such light in her eyes that it warmed my insides.
"Good thing that pink hair didn't go to your brain and sap all its power," teased Robert from his spot on the sofa. He pounded away on the controller of his videogame while gnawing on a pizza crust.
"Shut up, Robbie. I like my hair." She ran her fingers through it. "Do you like it?" she asked me, grinning.
I laughed as I nodded, propping my elbow on my knee while leaning against the sofa. "I do. Jordan did a good job."
"I love working there. I love everything about being here." Despite being eighteen, Ellie appeared younger at times. Her positivity and excitement brought a host of warmth tangled with worry. Would she always be happy to be here? Or would she one day regret what we'd done?
"I'm glad you do. Is there anything you miss about Montana?" I asked, probing for a deeper, something. I don't know.
"I mean, I would say school, but I graduated. Can't go back there. The routine here is different, but for the first time I feel like I can make my own choices. Even if they're bad ones," she answered, and it seemed fair enough.
"What kind of bad choices?" I queried, cocking a brow at her.
"
Well, pink hair for one."
"That's not a bad choice, El. It's what you like and wanted," I said, giving her knee a pat. "Our own personal choices aren't categorized as bad or good. It might be easier to think of choices as healthy or unhealthy rather than bad or good."
"Pink hair was an unhealthy choice?" Her brow furrowed and Robbie's attention fell to us as he listened.
"No, sweet girl." I scooted closer to sit in front of her. "A healthy choice is something that makes us happy. It makes us feel like our lives have meaning and enjoyment. Like getting our hair done, entering into a supportive relationship, getting a new job. An unhealthy choice is something that hurts us in the long run. Like doing drugs or eating four gallons of ice cream at once."
"Oh." Eleanor chewed her food slowly while she thought about it. "I do like my hair."
"Then it was a healthy choice for you, yeah?" I smiled at her summation, and she nodded.
"Yeah."
Robert set his game controller down, then leaned forward to run his fingers through our sister's hair. "For the record, I like your hair."
"You do?" Eleanor grinned at him, leaning back into his affection like she'd never expected it.
"Yup." He smooched her forehead. "It's hard at first coming out here and making your own decisions, Ellie. No one is going to put you down or pray for your soul or anything, okay? We're just going to support you. Even if you make an unhealthy decision. Even if you make a bad one, we're still going to love you."
"I know." She reached up and gave him a sideways hug. "I'm happy to be here."
"We're happy having you here," I said, swallowing down the lump that rose in my throat at seeing the two of them together like this. "Some days will be hard. Others easier."
"I made a friend at Jordan's. Her name's Finnley. She's a little younger though," Eleanor said before tearing into her pizza again.
"How old?" asked Robert.
"Sixteen. Not much younger. She's still in high school. Her mom used to work there, but now Finn does."
"Have her over some time," I offered. "Maybe on a night where we actually cook food instead of ordering out."
"Okay." Eleanor laughed then turned her attention back to Robert. "Not on the night when you introduce your new boyfriend to Billie though. Right?"
"Hey, twerp." Robert messed up her hair and the two of them laughed. "She met him once already."
"Indeed, I did. But not at a family dinner." I grinned at the two of them. "It's on, bro. Bring him over."
"So much pressure!" He flailed and pretended to faint.
"Do you have a girlfriend yet?" Eleanor rounded on me while she bopped her brother with a pillow.
"I don't. Nope." I smirked at the two of them. "Is Finnley your girlfriend, El?"
"What?" She gawked, then snickered. "I know you're rooting for me to be gay, too, but I'm not. Finnley's straight and so am I. She's just really nice to me. Her friend Olivia is, too. Except she curses a lot."
"Aw, damn." Robert snapped his fingers. "Mom and Dad would drop dead on the spot if all three of their kids were gay."
I laughed at that, because it reminded me of what Angelina said a few days ago. "They would."
"They were easier on me than the two of you." Eleanor's exuberance dimmed with the exposition. "Maybe they'd resigned by then."
"Maybe," Robert said, thoughtfully. "They still didn't treat you as well as they should've."
"Sometimes I don't think they even knew any better. Their religious community was more important than us." Eleanor shrugged. "I mean, I don't hate them and I don't miss them much, but I guess I understand their ignorance."
Ellie, for as young as she presented at times, aged at least a decade in my eyes at that moment. I listened to the two of them process their experiences. I leaned back on my elbows, watching them go through the same questions and postulations that I did almost twenty years ago. The most I could do was offer them an out, and the ability to experience the rest of the world for themselves. Everything else would be up to them. Robert thrived in his new environment. He would make a great social worker when he finished school and gained experience. His unusual ability to remain objective and balanced at all times became a skill that he could use. As for Eleanor, I worried that she would struggle to find her path or become a follower. As the youngest, she was always under my mother's thumb, being led by other adults and children. Would she attempt to follow me as some sort of leader of her life? I hoped not. Mentor I could handle. Sister. Friend. Not a leader though. All I could do is hope that she found herself, and formed her own opinions.
"You're really quiet, Billie." Robert pulled me from my introspection.
"You are. What are you thinking about?" asked Eleanor.
"The two of you. And the case I'm currently working on. Do either of you know Professor Lewis? She teaches physics at U.W."
"I don't." Eleanor shrugged. "No physics for me, but maybe I will take it eventually."
"Yeah. I took two of her classes," Robert chimed in. "All the guys obsessed over her. Why?"
"I met her the other day while investigating this case. Just curious." I shrugged, crossing my legs at the ankles while lounging on the carpet. I thought about the last memory of the woman crying into her palms when I left her alone after delivering the news. It bothered me to leave her that way.
"Why do the guys obsess?" asked Eleanor.
"Because she's hot as fuck." Robert laughed after he said it. "I mean, she's very attractive."
"Oh, I get it." Eleanor grinned then bumped my foot with hers. "Billie thinks she's hot, too."
"I don't—I mean, she is, but that's not why I was asking."
"Uh huh…" Eleanor wagged her brows at Robert who laughed along with her. "Do we believe her, Robbie?"
"Honestly, probably. I've been here seven years and I've never met anyone she's dated. So… Maybe she's not into girls anymore."
"Really? Seven years?" Eleanor frowned. "You haven't dated anyone?"
"I have. Nothing serious though. Don't you two gang up on me." I narrowed my eyes at them which only made them laugh more. "I can't take it in my old age. I'm going to bed," I announced, rolling to my knees to smooch each of them on the cheek. "G'night, sibs."
"Old age? You're thirty-five!" Robert called after me, but I waved him off.
Despite their teasing, I smiled as I made my way down the hall to the bedroom. In the past few months since she'd been here, Eleanor usually wandered into bed hours after me. Sometimes it wasn't like we shared a room at all.
Before I closed the door, I heard her mutter, "Her birthday is in two weeks. We should do something nice."
"We will," answered Robert. "I have an idea."
***
"What's the panic?" I asked, heading in to work the next day to see the entire homicide team gathered with Chief Walsh in the conference room. Angelina glanced at me and this time, she handed me a cup of coffee instead of the other way around.
"Monson reported that the jar of rocks we found contained uranium," she muttered, her brows lifting before sipping her coffee.
"Not rocks." My eyes widened as I met Moreno's gaze. "How much was it?"
"A legal amount," he said. "But considering the victim's education, we need to find out more about it. Which is where you're heading today." Moreno handed me the evidence bag with the jar of uranium inside. "Lubbock said you connected better with Professor Lewis."
"Uh…not really, but I'll talk to her. Why is everyone else here?" I glanced around the room where Walsh spoke with one of the Assistant Chief's in the far corner.
"Waiting on the FBI." Moreno drew his gaze to Angelina. "Lubbock, you take Sorensen to the Simon household to talk with the family."
"Right-o, Moren-o." Sorensen saluted him and gestured to the door. "Lubbock, you lead."
"You just hate talking to families." She grumbled as the two of them headed out.
"You want a grunt to go with you, Olsen?" asked Moreno, though his attention remained on the three peop
le emerging from the hall, led by a tall, leggy woman with curly brown hair. By the looks of them, the FBI had landed. Stark, stony faces, black-on-black pantsuits, and the energy to match, they'd descended on our precinct. Walsh greeted them and I drew my focus back to Moreno.
"I'm good." I took my leave, with uranium tucked in my palm, and embarked on a mission to escape the tension-filled precinct. Sometimes I liked the invisible nature of my position. Especially if it meant avoiding the spotlight in situations like this.
The arrival of the FBI told me that our hunch about a serial proved spot on. These days, two similar murders bring in the troops. Two means more that we haven't discovered yet.
My trek through the university wasn't as daunting as my last go, partially because I remembered how to get to Lewis' classroom. My heels clicked down the empty hall so obnoxiously that I found myself walking on the balls of my feet to avoid being so noisy. Eleanor had classes today and I couldn't help wondering where she was on this enormous campus.
Like before, I entered through the double doors of the lecture hall only to find yet another class in session. Poor timing, as always. Nearly every seat held a student, so I snuck into the back row to wait out the remainder of the lesson.
"Einstein, like many of the classical physicists of the time, disliked the idea of quantum mechanics. The idea of an uncertain, probabilistic view of nature didn't sit well with them. While that waxed and waned at times, others remained steadfast." Lewis turned away from the projection screen and sauntered her way to the center of the classroom. Even at a distance, her breathtakingly bold nature commanded respect. Not a single student moved or spoke out of turn. "We've already discussed Planck's energy quanta and the development of early quantum theory." She glanced to the clock, then pushed herself up to sit on the desk behind her. In her dark blue three-piece suit and heels, I could hardly draw my gaze away from the way she crossed her legs.
Robert's assertion of said professor's hotness burst to my thoughts.
"How many of you are in this class because of your interest in quantum entanglement?" Lewis asked, her eyes scanning the room. At least a dozen hands lifted in the air, bringing a smirk to her crimson lips. "Ah. The most romanticized theory in all of physics, as some of you might think." She clapped her hands together once in a loud snap. "But alas, that will have to wait until next week," she said, pointing to the clock. "Class dismissed."
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