“Ah, but in different courses! I need more in psychology.”
“Specifically in human emotions. Like jealousy.”
“Jealousy? As in...someone who wanted to be a famed Egyptologist?”
“Possibly. Some people kill because they’re deranged. They’re psychotic, or they’re sociopaths. Then, of course, you have the usual motives. Love, greed, hatred...jealousy. Think about everyone involved if you’re convinced that the two situations are related. The rest of us weren’t there. Only you know the dynamics among all the people who were on that expedition.”
“I can’t imagine anyone who would’ve wanted Henry dead. I just can’t.”
“It’s not that you can’t. It’s that you don’t want to,” Kieran told her.
They’d reached Rector Street and the old warehouse apartment that legally belonged to Harley’s uncle, who was mostly out of state now and had generously given the large, rent-controlled space to Harley while she finished her degree and decided on her permanent vocation.
The driver hopped out of the car, opening the door for Harley. Kieran leaned out to say goodbye and thank the man.
“Get on home, get into bed, go to sleep,” Kieran said. “Much better to start fresh in the morning.”
Harley gave her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “Thanks. Thanks for getting me here. But... I’ll be back on it in the morning.”
Kieran grinned. “We’d expect no less.” She leaned back in the car and the driver shut the door. He offered Harley a grave nod, and waited until she was safely at the door to her building.
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