Checkmate by Steven James Page A

I’ll be back.”
    â€œI’ll be here.”
    â€œPacking?”
    â€œYeah.” She didn’t sound too excited about it. “I guess.”
    She was getting ready for her freshman year at the University of Maryland, College Park, where she’d registered after she decided to bail on her previous choices of English and Deep Ecology and major in Criminal Science instead. Though it wasn’t far from DC, we all agreed it would be best if she stayed in the residence hall rather than at home.
    Admittedly, I had mixed feelings about her following in my footsteps—on the one hand, I was excited about the idea of someone as sharp as she was entering the field, but on the other, her emotional stability was a matter of concern, so who knew how that was going to pan out?
    â€œDon’t watch the news, Tessa.”
    She gave me a curious look. “What?”
    â€œI don’t want you watching the news.”
    In typical paradoxical fashion, Tessa was as insatiably curious about crimes as she was troubled by blood and dead bodies, often asking me about my cases even though she knew I couldn’t give her any details about the investigations. But the more she watched the news, the more disturbed she became.
    And the more curious.
    A vicious cycle.
    She took a bite of chocolate cake. “It’s someone from your past, isn’t it?”
    â€œWe don’t know who’s behind this.”
    â€œAh, I get it.” She swallowed her mouthful of cake.“So, let’s see how I do here . . .” As she went on, she vaguely imitated me. “Don’t assume. Never trust your gut. Go with the facts over your instincts. And try to prove yourself wrong rather than let your presuppositions color your judgment.”
    â€œCouldn’t have said it better myself.”
    â€œWell, it’s all from you from over the years. I mean, I conflated the axioms, but . . .”
    â€œRight.”
    She polished off another bite of chocolate cake. “I heard there was evidence left at the site of Jerome Cole’s homicide that pointed to a connection with you.”
    â€œWhere did you hear that?”
    â€œThe news.”
    â€œSee, this is why—”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œI can’t divulge anything about the case.”
    â€œBut according to CNN, an undisclosed source close to the investigation confirmed that the—”
    â€œTessa—”
    â€œYes?”
    She looked at me innocently.
    What’s the point, Pat? If that’s what the media is reporting she’ll find out soon enough.
    â€œOkay. Yes. It’s true. One of the books I wrote was left there at the scene. That’s all I can tell you.”
    â€œSo, when should I expect them?”
    â€œExpect who?”
    â€œThe agents or cops or whoever you’re going to assign to watch the house when you and Lien-hua are gone. I mean, that is what’s coming, isn’t it? If this has something to do with you, if this killer—or killers; okay, I’m not assuming, I’m just saying—if this killer, he’s shown interestin you, then you’re going to have someone watch me when you’re not around.”
    â€œAs a precaution only, not as—”
    â€œYou know what? That’s one of your most annoying quirks.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œSaying something is a precaution. It means you’re worried about someone but you don’t want to admit it.”
    â€œIf I was worried I wouldn’t leave you alone. Not even for a minute. I don’t think you’re in any danger. I just want to be prudent.”
    â€œPrudent.”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œGotcha.”
    The conversation, which had started off on a positive enough note, had turned a sharp corner and I wasn’t exactly sure where to take things from here.
    â€œAlright,” I said, “well, when I know more of my schedule for the day I’ll text you.