The Belial Stone (The Belial Series #1)(46)

Tara grabbed her backpack with a little skip that set her blonde ponytail bouncing. “Sure, Dr. Childress. No problem.”

As they followed Tara out, Jake leaned over and whispered. “You know, Laney, I’ve made it through the Yucatan Peninsula, the deserts of Afghanistan, and a couple of other less desirable backwaters across the globe. I don’t think finding the parking garage will be a stretch.”

She gave a soft laugh. “Just follow my lead, okay?”

“Okay, Doc.”

As Tara walked out into the bright sunlight, Laney introduced herself and Jake to the girl. “So, you must have been excited to work with someone of Dr. Priddle’s caliber.”

Tara made a face. “Yeah, sure.”

“You didn’t like Dr. Priddle?” Laney asked.

Tara shrugged.

“You know, I really hated some of my professors,” Jake said. “They were always so full of themselves.”

Tara nodded vigorously. “Oh, I know what you mean.”

“In fact, a few students have told us that Dr. Priddle was one of the worst,” he said.

“They did?”

“Oh, yeah. Did he give you any problems?” Laney asked.

“He really wasn’t very nice,” Tara began and stopped. At Jake’s encouraging nod, though, the dam that held back Tara’s words burst. “He was actually a real jerk. Not like Dr. Masters. He was real nice. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Me either,” Laney said.

Tara nodded. “But Dr. Priddle was never, ever, nice. He never remembered my name and always wanted his stuff done right away, even when I had other professors’ work to do first. And he never said thank you – not ever. And, God, he was so gross. It was like he dipped himself in oil. I hated going into his office. I always felt like I needed a shower afterwards.”

Laney bit back a smile. “Did you see him before he left?”

“Oh, sure.”

“Anything stick out?”

Tara shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess he was kind of weird. He said something about showing everyone who he really was.” She rolled her eyes. “What a jerk.”

“Do you know where he went?” Jake asked.

Tara’s phone beeped. She rummaged through her backpack looking for it, reading the text while answering. “I guess Montana.”

“Montana?” Jake asked.

Tara put the phone back in her bag after sending a quick text. “Yeah. He needed me to get some topographic maps of Montana around some place called Haven or Haver or something like that a few weeks ago.”

“But how do you know that’s where he was heading?”

Tara shifted her bag on her shoulder. “Because the day he left, he came to his office. He was in a big rush. I was setting up the bulletin board outside his door. Anyway, he called somebody. I don't know who. He was usually real private when he got phone calls. He even closed his door, so no one could hear.”

Tara rolled her eyes again. “Like anyone would want to. Anyway, I guess he was too distracted this time. He asked whoever was on the phone about the money and if his equipment had arrived. And then he asked how long the plane ride would be from Saint Paul to Haven or Haver or whatever. I finished the bulletin board and left. I don’t think he even realized I was there.

By now, they’d reached the parking garage and Laney thanked Tara for her help. With a last lingering look at Jake, she headed off to her next class.

Jake turned to Laney with a raised eyebrow. “Good call on the student. What made you think she’d know something?”

“Well, professors don’t like to talk about other professors, even when they can’t stand them. Students, however, love to bitch about their professors. And being she was quietly hanging out in the background, I had got the feeling she probably saw and heard a lot. So, it seemed like a good possibility.”

“Good hunch. And now thanks to Tara, we now know where we’re heading next.”

“Montana.”

“Yup. Montana.” Jake agreed.





CHAPTER 35



Havre, MT



Cheers rang out across the enclosure. A crowd of guards and inmates surrounded the two combatants. The men circled each other, jockeying for the best position. Both men had cuts on their knuckles and faces. Their clothing, which had been tattered prior to the fight, had been reduced to mere strips of fabric that barely clung to the men’s emaciated frames.

Tom was sickened by the spectacle. The smaller of the men, Seeley, held his ribs. Tom was pretty sure some of them were broken. He’d been close enough to hear the crack. The less injured combatant, Devon, charged across the space, aiming for them.

“Left hook! Left hook!” one of the guards yelled.

The man’s glee was splashed across his face. Tom fought to keep from telegraphing his own disgust. He must have bet on Devon.

Another guard reached out his foot as the combatants neared and tripped Devon. He fell to the ground. Seeley leapt on top of him. Their thin bodies rolled across the space. Devon managed to get a leg in between them and flung Seeley off. With a grunt, he slammed into the ground, his face a painful grimace

A guard across the circle threw a shovel into the arena. Both men leapt for it, knowing it was the difference between life and death. The guards pointed and laughed.