Page 41 of The Guilty One

“It’s a small school,” he says. “Matteo’s disappearance was a big deal. The talk of the campus for quite a while.” He pauses. “Forgive me, who is your husband?”

“Tate, um, Tatum Thompson.”

The man’s face pales, and he nearly drops his coffee cup, sloshing the light brown liquid down over the side. He hardly seems to notice the spill. “I guess I should’ve realized from your last name, but it’s a common one, so I didn’t think about it. You’re telling me you actually married Tatum Thompson?”

“I guess you knew him too, then.”

He looks away, appearing to try and collect himself. “He made sure of it.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say there’s a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“What do you mean? You and Tate didn’t get along?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, thinking. “I’m sorry that he’s missing. Truly, I am, but Tatum Thompson as I knew him was an awful, awful bully to everyone around him.”

That doesn’t sound like Tate at all. I bite my lip. “We all make mistakes in college.” Not that I would know, I guess. I never went.

He nods, taking another sip of his coffee. Upon finally noticing the spill, he grabs a napkin and dabs it off the side of his cup and the tabletop. “What I can tell you is that Professor Vance was always very kind. Very well respected at our school. Her loss was a terrible one.”

“And what about Matteo?”

He balls the napkin up and sets it aside. “I didn’t know him as well, but he was never impolite to me. A bit shy, maybe. He kept to his circle. I was sorry to hear he disappeared but—” He cuts himself off.

“But what?”

“Well, forgive me again, but to be frank, I always suspected your husband and his friends of having something to do with it.”

My blood chills. “What do you mean?”

He takes a sip of his coffee, letting the heavy silence linger. “It was just a theory, but quite a few people in school thought it. Tatum left school right after, but that school was his kingdom. Several of us believed he never would’ve left unless he was guilty and had something to hide.”

I bristle at his comments. I knew Tate left school during his last semester, but his parents told me it was because he went to study abroad. Was that a lie? It’s no wonder Tate never spoke about who he was back then. He’s changed so much for the better, but now I wonder if it’s because of a terrible mistake he made back then. “I’m sorry he was so awful to you, truly. He’s different now. He’s a kind husband, a good father.”

The man looks at me as if he pities me. “I hope that’s true. I really do. And I’d never wish ill on him. But if you ask me, only a handful of people know what happened to Matteo Acri back then. If you ask me, he’s dead, and your husband and his friends at the very least know what happened, and, at the worst, were responsible.”

The weight of what he’s saying washes over me because he doesn’t know everything yet.

“Tate’s friends? Do you mean Bradley Jennings and Dakota Miller?”

“And Aaron something. I can’t remember his last name.”

“Bond.”

He nods. “Yep, that was it. Why?”

“Because everyone except Aaron is dead or missing now,” I say with a swallow. “Including Tate.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

TATUM

Twelve Years Ago

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Mom greets us at the door, arms spread wide for a hug. I lean down quickly, giving her a pat on the back.

“’Sup?”

“I’m so happy you boys could stay with us for the holiday,” she says, walking over to the guys and hugging Matteo first, stretching up on her toes to reach her arms around his neck.

Matteo squeezes her and lifts her off the ground until she squeals with delight. “Thanks for inviting us, Mrs. T.”