Rod’s tired face caught Wyl’s eye. “You about ready to go, babe?”

“Yes…being a featured speaker can wear a body out.”

“I hope we can visit again soon,” Ailbe said. “I’m looking forward to your presentation tomorrow, Wyl. I want to pick your brain sometime.”

“At the racecourse, you mentioned Wilde’s,” Wyl said. “Let’s plan to meet later this week. Rod and I both like Pearson. He’s an amazing musician.”

“Sounds like a plan, lads,” Ailbe said.

“You chaps take care,” Declan said.

Rod and Wyl needed to report to General Steinburg and James Pearson.

Ailbe and Declan needed to discuss the best way to entice Wyl into their fold and what to do with Rod.

CHAPTER TWENTY

First thing Wednesday morning Ailbe called his students together in the lecture hall. As he entered, the din of their anxious conversations masked the clip-clop of Ailbe’s leather-soled shoes on the hard floor.

“Quiet, everyone,” Ailbe took his position at the lectern. “Listen up, lads.” He clapped his hands, drawing their attention.

The room quieted and the focus turned to Ailbe.

“We are nearing mid-term, and I want to review the expectations for your projects.” Ailbe paced as he spoke. “The original timeline called for projects to be completed by the end of November, but I changed the deadline to October 29th. I’m escalating the due date once again.”

Heads turned, and a murmur rose as students whispered to one another.

“Quiet!” Ailbe surveyed the gaping mouths of shocked students. “Projects are due by October 22nd, two weeks from Friday. Most of you are almost finished.”

Fergus Rafferty’s hand flew into the air. “Dr. MacGowan?”

“Yes, Mr. Rafferty?”

Fergus sat forward in his seat as if asking a critical question. “Is this still our semester project, or will another follow this one?”

“Excellent question, Mr. Rafferty.” MacGowan stopped pacing, crossed his arms, and glared at Rafferty. “This complex project is the only project for the semester. It requires significant time to grade, and I want to be sure I have ample time to review each individual project.”

“Dr. MacGowan,” Fergus continued, “do we continue to work together, or focus on our own projects?”

“Another excellent question, Mr. Rafferty.” Ailbe paced again, keeping his arms crossed. “Keenan Moynihan discovered the projects are related. Therefore, I suggest you work as a team, uncovering the dovetails and ensuring your projects all fit together.”

Murmurs arose again among the twenty students.

“Gentlemen,” Ailbe quelled the chatter. “If you want a position with a major corporation, you need experience in working collaboratively. This is an opportunity for you to gain team experience.”

Why didn’t I think of this before? Working together is the ultimate way to move this project to where it needs to be. Now if I can snare Wyl Sterling…

"That's it, lads. Go to work!” Ailbe exited the hall, his leather soles clacking against the shiny tile floor.

The students talked amongst themselves, digesting this new angle and the escalated due date.

“Lads, let’s meet in the lab at 1:00 and compare our projects.” Fergus Rafferty’s voice showed confidence. “We all need to understand where the projects sync so we make the best use of our time.”

Heads nodded as the lads stood to leave the lecture hall. Fergus gathered his books and recalled his conversation with Chief Superintendent O’Brien and the officer’s interest in MacGowan’s project. I may be overanalyzing this, but I don’t want the Chief to think I’m withholding information. I'll go visit him about this change and let him decide if it’s essential. He hurried out into the brisk fall morning and caught a bus.

Fergus stood across the street from the Gardaí station, watching officers come and go. Uncertainty clawed at his gut. Garrett Burke came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, Fergus turned.

“Hi,” Garrett said.

Fergus’s face softened. “Hi.”

“You rushed away from campus before I snagged you. I thought we might grab an early lunch before we go back to the lab.”

Fergus pulled Garrett into a hug. “I’m glad you followed me.”

“What are you doing watching the Gardaí station?” Garrett asked.

Fergus pulled back. “Minutes before Keenan's abduction, he and I discussed the class on the phone.” His voice shook. “The police questioned me. They think someone murdered Keenan.” Fergus struggled to maintain composure.

Garrett cupped Fergus’s cheek with his left hand. “Relax, Fergus. You can talk to me.”

Fergus turned into Garrett’s touch. “When Dr. MacGowan announced the change in due dates this morning, I thought the police should be informed.”

“Do you want me to go in with you?” Garrett asked.

“Garrett, nobody has a clue about our relationship. I don’t want it kept secret, but it's better if you’re not involved with the police.”

“A bunch of the lads came down to give statements,” Garret said. “But they didn’t call me.”

“I think they only called lads who talked with Keenan often,” Fergus said.

“He and I didn't talk much,” Garrett said.

“Garrett?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad you’re here. Do you mind waiting while I go visit with the Chief?”

“How about I meet you in the coffee shop down the street?”

"Perfect.” Fergus squeezed Garrett’s hand before he turned to walk across the street to the Gardaí station.

* * *

“My name is Fergus Rafferty. Is Chief Superintendent O’Brien available?” Fergus asked the policeman behind the counter.

“I’ll check for you, sir.”