"Right. Who's the kid?"
"First year. You're supposed to be watching her closely already. Quinn Cleary."
"Oh, shit!" Verran said. "Not 252 again."
Alston straightened. "Again? You've had trouble with Cleary before?"
Verran had to be careful here. He couldn't slip up and spill about almost getting caught—or about the missing bug.
"No, no. Not with her personally. Just her room. Her audio pick-up went on the fritz last month and I had to replace it."
"Did you now?" He paused and leaned back. "Strange, isn't it?"
"What?"
"That two electronic devices should malfunction in the same room within a matter of weeks—in a room with only a single occupant." His tones became pensive, almost distant. "And that occupant...a young woman that I was against admitting in the first place. Very strange. I wonder...is something going on here?"
"She doesn't have any jamming equipment, if that's what you're thinking." He grinned at Alston. "You're not going paranoid on me, are you, Doc?"
"Not at all, Louis. I realize that coincidences occur, but I'm always suspicious when they do. It's the scientist in me, I suppose."
"Well, the first thing we should do, Dr. Scientist," Verran said, rising, "is make sure you've got your facts straight. So far as I know, room 252's SLI is working perfectly."
"It had better not be, Louis," Alston said. "Or otherwise we've got ourselves a big problem. I do not want another problem, Louis. I had enough problems two years ago to last me a lifetime."
Verran nodded. This was one point on which he and Dr. Tightass were in complete agreement. That had been a nightmare.
"Amen, Doc." He turned toward the door. "I'll let you know as soon as I check it out."
"How are you going to work this?"
"I'll use the old exterminator ploy."
Alston nodded absently. "Odd, but lately it seems that every time there's trouble, this Cleary girl is involved. Why is that?"
"Beats me," Verran said as he stepped out into the hall.
"Am I going to regret letting her in?"
Verran closed the door and hoped Alston wouldn't regret it. Because if Alston regretted letting Cleary in, then inevitably Verran would come to regret it.
Of course, the one who'd wind up regretting it most would be the Cleary girl.
FOURTEEN
"Don't lock your door, Quinn," Tim said as he heard the clink of her key chain.
"Why not?"
"They're spraying today."
"Oh, that's right."
Tim watched her tuck the keys back in her pocket. She looked great in her slacks and sweater, except that the sweater was too long—it covered too much of her. He sighed as he watched her. Today was going to be an especially long day, for tonight was the night they were taking off for AC. A lot of quality time with Quinn—overnight time with her in his free room. He'd been indulging himself these past few weeks in some wild sexual fantasies—visions of those long, slim, dynamite legs wrapped tight around him—none of which, he knew, had the slightest chance of becoming reality, but still they managed to fuel his anticipation. He'd even picked up a pack of condoms, which he supposed was like buying a Pick-6 Lotto ticket—the chances of winning were six million to one, but that didn't stop you from thinking about what it would be like to be a multimillionaire.
He smiled. And as the lotto folks liked to say: You can't win it unless you're in it.
He stepped across the hall and took another look at the sign pinned to the bulletin board.
NOTICE
The exterminators will be performing their periodic
spraying of the dorm. The second floor is scheduled
first on Friday morning, November 18. All rooms must
be vacated between 8 a.m. and noon. Please leave
your room unlocked and remove all articles from your
floors before leaving for morning classes that day.
Louis Verran
Chief of Campus Security
Something about the notice bothered Tim but for the life of him he couldn't nail down just what it was.
"Seen any bugs around your room, Quinn?" he said.
"Not a one," she said as she left her door and came over to him. "And I don't want to."
"How about the other girls? Any of them mention being bothered by bugs?"
"Not that I recall. Why?"
"I don't know. Seems strange to start spraying on the second floor. I'd think if there was going to be an insect problem in the dorm it would start at ground level and work its way up."
"You're an expert on bugs now?"
"No. But if nobody's seen any—"
"Sounds like preventive medicine to me," Quinn said. "If you spray on a regular basis, you won't develop a problem. Not a bad idea, really. Besides, the stuff they're using is supposed to be colorless and odorless and non-toxic to humans once it dries." She tugged on his sleeve. "Come on. We'll be late for Path."
Tim took one last look at the notice. Maybe it was Louis Verran's name on the bottom that bothered him. He hadn't told Quinn about his little run-in with Verran in her room that night. She'd already been upset about her confrontation with Alston and he hadn't seen any purpose in bringing it up.
But something about Verran's demeanor that night had lingered with him like a bad aftertaste. Tim had had a vague impression then that the man was hiding something. He'd looked guilty. Over the following weeks Tim had written it off as a misread, but then this notice: the second floor was going to be empty, all the doors unlocked, with Louis Verran in charge.
Was something going on?
Nah.
He followed Quinn toward the stairs.
*
Louis Verran stood at the door to room 252 and glanced at his watch. 9:16. Plenty of time left. He stepped back into the suite and watched Elliot checking the SLI units in the headboards. All the works were exposed and he was running his check, his long fingers pulling, poking, and probing the tangled wires and circuit boards.
"How's it look?" Verran said.
"Perfect so far, chief. I'm about halfway through and haven't found a thing. I got a feeling I'm not going to."
"Never mind your feelings," Verran said. "Just don't miss anything."
There had to be something wrong with the unit, something mechanical, something electronic, something that could be fixed. But if the problem wasn't with the unit; if the SLI wasn't on the fritz, then it had to be Cleary. A malfunctioning unit was one thing, but a malfunctioning student...?
They'd had one of those two years ago. Please, God, never again.
He looked at his watch again.
"Don't rush, Elliot. Just do it right. Still plenty of time."
*
Tim sensed rather than saw Quinn lean over his shoulder.
"I've got to get back to the dorm," she whispered.
"Now?"
The clock on the auditorium wall said 9:30. Still ten minutes to go in Dr. Hager's pathology lecture on inflammation.
"I forgot my histo notes. I want to have them for the review."
Staying low, she edged out of the row of seats and started up the steps to the exit. Tim hesitated a moment, then got up and trailed after her.
"Wait up," he said in the hallway.
She turned, surprise in her eyes. "Tim? Where are you going?"
"With you."
"You forget something too?"
"No. I just..." How did he say this? He didn't want to tell her of his misgivings about Louis Verran. He was sure they'd sound pretty lame if he said them out loud. But he did not like the idea of her entering the empty dorm alone, even if it was a bright fall morning. "I don't think you should go alone."
She stopped and stared at him. "What? You've got to be kidding."
"No, I'm not kidding. They've got a bunch of outsiders wandering the halls."