The Budding Metalinguist

XXX

Leslie's gaze traveled between Lillian and Daria's faces in confusion. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Daria evaded. "I just don't feel like breakfast." She wasn't even trying to conceal the lie.

"Me either," Lillian added, following suit.

Leslie's eyes narrowed in deep suspicion. "I can tell you're both hungry. So either you both reconcile and come to breakfast or you force yourself deeper into isolation by rejecting someone who wants to help you."

Daria looked away, stung by Leslie's words. Lillian winced.

"Lillian," Leslie decided using a method that seemed completely arbitrary. "Let's get a bagel."

Lillian watched Leslie's face for a minute before deciding that there was no hope of arguing. She nodded, slipped on her shoes, and slung her backpack over her shoulder, then hurried after Leslie's quick stride. Within a matter of minutes, they arrived at the Creative Sciences Center, alias the Crave or the Cosecant, and stepped into line at the central bagel restaurant.

"Why me?" Lillian asked curiously. She was interested to hear Leslie's motivations.

Leslie smirked. "Daria has a large friend group and is in a long-term relationship. The only person I've ever seen you spend meaningful time with here is that girl Angela, and I get the sense she's not exactly the comforting type."

"You felt sorry for me," Lillian repeated disdainfully.

Leslie snorted. "Far from it. But it would be rude to leave you with no one."

Lillian gave a half smile. Leslie was right in her judging of Angela's character and her friendship with Lillian, but Lillian knew her roommate serially underestimated the closeness of their own relationship. "Thanks."

Leslie dipped her head in a familiar "don't mention it" gesture. "What happened between you and Daria?"

Lillian gulped. If she didn't answer right away, she knew Leslie would gradually pressure and guilt-trip her into it anyway. It was better to simply tell the truth right away than suffer that level of embarrassment.

"Daria found out about the investigation."

"You told her?" Leslie asked sharply. Leslie knew well enough that Lillian was closer to her than to Daria. She looked extremely offended at the idea that Lillian might have wanted to confide in Daria over her.

"No," Lillian explained, "she guessed."

Leslie gave a grim smile. "And that's why she's upset?"

Lillian nodded. The line struggled forward, and both girls stepped up to the counter to order.

❧☙

Dakota racked his brain, trying to remember where he had seen the sign. A swinging sign, a sign on hinges, a sign that people were walking past. What kind of person was misguided enough to put a sign on hinges at chest level? It sounded like a terrible idea, and yet so desperately familiar...

Dakota automatically formed an association. The sign, he realized, had something to do with Dr. Hests- although he wasn't in the least sure what. Dr. Hests was not at all the kind of person who would put a sign on hinges at chest level, anyway; she was much too logical.

So how could the sign be related to Dr. Hests?

It must be at some place that he had gone with Dr. Hests, but he couldn't at all remember where. He had been so many places with her. He dismissed the thought with an intensity rivaling defenestration, embarrassed at his sentimentality.

What was stopping him from asking her, anyway? It would be so simple to just mention that he had a "vague memory" that was frustrating him.

Dakota rose, circled his desk, and banged open his door. He was going to ask.

❧☙

"Lindsey Moreau," Derek announced to the conference room. "We so far don't know if she has any connection to the remainder of the case, but we're checking up on it."

Lindsey Moreau. For some unknown reason, the name- or at least the last name- sounded vaguely familiar to Galena. She was sure that Moreau was a fairly uncommon name, but she knew she had heard it often before.

"Who is she?" Vanessa asked bluntly. Galena was noticing more and more that this was a habit of Vanessa's- she was direct and to the point.

"We don't really know. She's lived in an apartment in Bend for at least ten years. She's married with a daughter. But Ashley's utility bills were charged to her credit card."

Galena cocked her head. It seemed odd. Her mother, she thought, was probably more likely to pay the utility bills herself using cash than to scapegoat someone else by charging them instead. But Galena's mother had also spent the last few weeks defying expectation.

"Can we get an interview?" Erica asked reflexively.

Derek sighed. "We only just found this out. Of course we'll get an interview. First we need to get in touch. I've contacted her via phone and email, and she hasn't replied yet. Once she does, we'll decide whether we should go out to Bend, have the interview over phone, or whether she should come in."

Vanessa seemed bored by these logistics. "It doesn't matter how we talk to her as long as we ask the right questions. I'd also like a full background check. Tell me about her personal history."

Derek nodded with surprising agreement. "Got it. I'll look into everything." He rose from his chair and left the room, signifying an end to the meeting.

Even though Galena's attention was mostly focused elsewhere, she couldn't help being intrigued by the idea of a new step in the case. Maybe, she considered, just maybe, Lindsey Moreau would be the next big lead.