The Veritas Conflict (58 page)

“Machu Picchu?” Claire sat back in her chair, startled.

“Yeah. See, we were both majoring in business and had an interest in international finance. He knew I was into Latin American stuff—I speak fluent Spanish—and he told me about the class on the history of the Incas that went down to Machu Picchu over the holidays.”

“I remember seeing that during orientation.”

“Yeah, they do it almost every year. Anyway, I think the news got it wrong. I don’t think he ever did a summer internship there, but he did go down during two winter breaks.”

“Was that when he got mixed up with these people the DA was talking about?” Doug asked.

Patrice clenched her fists, her voice rising. “I don’t know! I just don’t know. But I knew there was
something
strange going on. He and Stefan would go off every weekend and—”

“Wait!” Claire stretched her hand flat on the table. “Who did you say?”

“What … Stefan? Yeah.” Patrice laughed sourly. “The favorite son. It drove me crazy that I was a senior and this little pip-squeak freshman was running rings around me just because his daddy was on the faculty.”.

Claire went cold, barely noticing the good-natured protests from the other “little pip-squeak freshmen” around the table. “Excuse me,” she broke into their dialogue. “What is Stefan’s last name?” Claire saw Doug and the others looking at her curiously. “And what do you mean ‘his daddy was on the faculty’?”

“Oh, you know. That business professor who taught my multinationals class. Stefan was his son, and boy was he arrogant. He—”

“But what was his
name
, Patrice?” Claire rose to her feet.

“Oh, man, I don’t remember.
P
-something.” She must have seen the expression on Claire’s face; she looked up at her curiously. “Well, okay, don’t get all upset. Hold on … he
taught multinationals, finance, maybe corporate strat—Pike!” She snapped her fingers, even as an icy jolt shot through Claire. “Right, Professor Pike. Because Stefan and Murphy were as thick as thieves in Peru doing some independent study project or something for him, although personally I think Stefan was just out for a good time—”

Claire grabbed her coat and backpack while the others picked up with questions about Murphy Barker and the Peru trip. She had a feeling of complete unreality as she pulled on her gloves.

“Hey.” The voice was close by her head.

Claire jumped and turned toward Doug’s concerned face. His voice was quiet. “What’s going on?” The other students at the table were still in animated discussion with Patrice.

“I don’t know, Doug. Something weird, and I can’t talk about it. It has to do with this research project I’m doing for Professor Mansfield.”

“Okay.” Doug folded his arms across his chest. “But this is more than just worry about a research project. What’s wrong?”

Claire suddenly found her eyes misting. “I honestly don’t know, Doug. Just—just pray for my roommate, Sherry, okay?”

“Sherry?”

“Yes!”

Claire took a step toward the door, then noticed the fleeting hurt look on Doug’s lace. She forced herself to stop and turn toward her friend.

“I’m sorry, Doug. I’m really worried—as you can tell.” She lowered her voice. “Look. I’ve been worried about Sherry because she’s letting her boyfriend influence her—you know—away from God. And now I find out that her boyfriend was friends with the investment banker that just got arrested.”

“Stefan Pike is Sherry’s boyfriend? I didn’t know that.”

“There’s a lot more to it than this, but I can’t go into it. Just pray for her, okay?”

“Yes. Okay. Get out of here.” Doug shooed her toward the door.

Within moments Claire was through the doors, walking as quickly as she could toward her dorm.

FORTY-NINE

C
LAIRE TOOK THE STAIRS TWO AT A TIME
, then slowed as she approached the door to her suite. She didn’t know exactly what was wrong, just that something was.

Claire entered the suite and saw Sherry’s sweater thrown over the couch, heard the music through the half-open door to their shared bedroom.

She pushed open the door. Sherry looked up from her desk. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Claire forced a smile as she shed her coat. “How’s your day?”

“Fine. Hey, you got a phone call from a guy in some finance office. The resource director, he said. I wrote it down. He said he was back early from a meeting and was about to leave town for a week, and if you wanted to talk to him you have to call by 1:30.”

Claire looked at the clock by her bed. 1:25.
O Lord
…

She hurried to her desk. As she picked up the phone, she saw Sherry pulling on a sweater. “You going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Stefan and I are heading down to Boston to walk around Fanueil Hall. We’ll probably have dinner down there somewhere.”

Claire looked at the clock, closed her eyes in a desperate prayer, and hung up the phone. “Uh, look, can I mention something to you?”

“Yeah.” Sherry was looking in the mirror, straightening her collar.

“Stefan’s last name is Pike, right?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s gone to Peru on the Machu Picchu trip, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah. He’s gone every year.”

Claire took a deep breath. “Did you know that one of his friends—an investment banker named Murphy who graduated a few years back—was just arrested for a drug-running scheme he hooked up with on that trip?”

“What?” Sherry swung around.

“I just saw it on CNN.” Claire shot a desperate glance at the clock and picked up the receiver. “I have to tell you more, but can you possibly wait a sec while I call this guy back?”

“Nope. I’m almost late as it is. You want to say something, say it now.” She looked at Claire, her arms folded across her chest.

Claire set the receiver back down. “Sherry, its just that you’ve been … different in the last few weeks. You aren’t interested in HCF or church, you’re over at Stefan’s at all hours, or out with his friends … none of whom are Christians.”

She shot a glance at her roommate. Sherry’s lips were pressed together in a tight line. Claire straightened. “I’m concerned that Stefan’s drawing you away from God. That—”

“Don’t be. You just look out for yourself. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can. I’m not trying to be your baby-sitter.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. But I
am
your accountability partner, and I’m concerned about what I’ve seen with Stefan. Take this thing with his friend from the Peru trip. There’s some weird stuff going on related to the Pikes.” She held up the receiver to the phone. “That’s even what this research for Mansfield is about, why I have to go talk to this finance guy right away. How well do you really know Stefan Pike, anyway?”

Sherry’s voice was droll. “Oh, I know him
very
well.”

Claire’s intended words caught in her throat. She looked into Sherry’s eyes. “I gather there’s something you haven’t told me about your relationship with Stefan.”

“Nothing that’s any of your business.” Sherry stepped to her closet and pulled out a coat. “Claire, I appreciate your concern. Truly. But if you’re implying that Stefan could be mixed up in some drug-running scheme just because a friend of his was busted—”

“That’s not what I—”

“—then that’s quite insulting.” Sherry zipped up her coat and pulled some gloves from her pocket. “I’m going now.”

Claire stood up, reaching for her roommate’s sleeve. “Sherry, if you’d just listen a minute!”

Sherry swung around, her face close to Claire’s, her eyes angry. “I think I’ve listened quite enough. I can’t believe you would seriously impugn the guy I’m in love with just because you saw some news report about a former classmate he probably hardly knows. What a ridiculous … unfounded … mean-spirited …” She jabbed her finger toward Claire. “You will do anything to tear Stefan down in my eyes, and I think I’ve had quite enough.”

“I’m not tearing him down—”

“Just stop.” Sherry held up a hand. “I’m sure when you think about it, you’ll realize how stupid you look right now. I’m leaving. You can apologize later for being so ugly.”

She swept out the door with a bang.

Claire let out a shuddering breath. She hung her head, rubbing the back of her neck. In the next instant, her head shot up. The clock read 1:33. She grabbed the slip
of paper bearing Sherry’s neat handwriting and punched the numbers. Her hands were shaking as she listened to the ringing.
O God, Mansfield’s going to fire me. Please help me catch this guy!

The ringing stopped and she heard the telltale clicks and pauses of a voice mail system.

“You’ve reached the desk of the resource director. I will be out of the office from …”

O God, O God, what do I do?

“… but leave a message and I will call you back as soon as I return. Thank you.”
Beep!

Claire hesitated, then pressed the zero button on her telephone.

“Front Desk. Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was trying to return the resource directors call, but I just got his voice mail. Has he actually left yet?”

“I’m sorry, but I do believe he’s already left for the day. Can I take a message?”

Claire’s stomach twisted. “No. I don’t suppose that you’d be willing to check and make sure he’s actually left … would you?”

A pause. “Well, if you’ll hold on a moment, let me get rid of some of these calls, and then I’ll walk back to his office.”

Claire held the line, listening vaguely to the soft music as she tried to think of how she would tell Ian and Mansfield about her failure.

The phone clicked. “Well, young lady, you’re in luck. He was just walking by my desk on the way out. He’s in a bit of a hurry, but let me transfer you.”

Thank You! Thank You!

Claire heard a male voice come on the line. “Is this Claire Rivers?”

“Yes sir. Thank you for taking my call. Sorry to catch you on the way out, but—”

“I’m afraid I’m going to be away for the next ten days or so. The good news is that the type of information you’re looking for
is
here in our computer system, but once I lock my resource room you won’t have access until I return. Our security procedures are strict.”

“Oh, sir, I don’t want to be any trouble, but this is a really time-sensitive research project. Is there
anyway
someone there can let me in?”

“I have a clerk, but he’s not authorized to let anyone in before I get their access letter.”

“Well—” Claire gripped the phone tighter—“how about if I came over right now? Would you be willing to leave your office open and have the clerk take my access letter and show me around? Then he could lock up after I leave today?”

“Hmm.” Claire could hear a drumming noise on the other end of the line. “You aren’t easily dissuaded, are you?”

“No sir.”

“Did you say that Dr. Mansfield authorized this research?”

“Yes sir.”

A pause. “Well, let me tell you what. Technically I’m supposed to be present while you look at the system, but I’d be willing to make an exception as long as I can personally log you in.”

Claire jumped to her feet.

“If you get over here within the next ten minutes, I’ll hold the door open for you. But after that, I’m going to lock it and leave. I’m already late.”

“Thank you, sir. You’re a godsend!”

A dry chuckle. “Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ll take whatever I can get. Hold on a moment.”

The voice became muffled, and Claire could hear some talking in the background. His voice came back on the line. “My clerk will also be in and out, and he’s willing to police the research so that confidentiality is protected.”

“Thank you so much, sir! I’ll be right there.”

Claire stuffed her research notebook into her backpack, grabbed her coat, and hurried out the door. A vague sense of unease arose as she locked the door, fumbling with her keys. She was embarking on this without Ian and Mansfield. She was just a freshman! What sort of upstart would they label her?

Exactly nine minutes later Claire arrived at the proper office, out of breath and looking at her watch.

The receptionist pressed a button on the phone. She grinned, looking up at Claire’s flushed face as she spoke into the intercom. “I think she’s here, sir.”

A disembodied voice rose from the box. “Lucky girl. My hand was on the doorknob. Send her back.”

“I’m assuming you’re Claire Rivers,” the receptionist said.

It took a second for Claire to answer. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Sign here.” She held out a clipboard. “And indicate which senior faculty member is requesting this information. The records are private, so we have to have that authorization. I’ll also need to see your authorization letter.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Her breathing was coming easier. She scribbled her name and Mansfield’s in the appropriate places and handed over the note he had written.

The receptionist perused the note, took back the clipboard, and jerked her head. “Down that corridor. The last room on the left. The one with all the boxes.”

Claire headed down the corridor.
All the boxes?
She was passing glass-fronted offices on the left and rows of cubicles on the right. There were a lot of office workers around but very little noise.

A short man with wiry white hair stepped halfway out a doorway, beckoning to her. She quickened her pace and held out her hand.

“Thank you, sir! Thank you so much—”

“Yes, yes, yes.” He shook her hand once then steered her into a glass-fronted room with a hand against her back. He couldn’t have been any taller than she was. “No accolades needed. Let’s just set you up here and get me on my way.”

Claire looked around in surprise. One whole side of the long, narrow room was stacked floor to ceiling with cardboard boxes.

His eyes followed hers. “We’re modernizing.” He hurried her to the opposite end of the room toward a bank of computers. “All those records are finally on-line. Took two years. Those are going to storage. Sit here.”

He pulled out a chair in front of a terminal, propelling Claire into the seat. She looked up at his intent profile, his wild mop of hair.