CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When they left the professor’s townhouse and got into their SUV, Carly waited for her partner to say something. Lyle was maintaining a grim silence that she’d seldom seen in him.
After several long moments he asked, “What do you think of our philosophy professor?”
Carly realized that she didn’t know how to reply. Certainly they didn’t have any hard evidence against him, nothing to suggest they should put him under arrest. But she was awfully tired after the long night and half of a day they’d worked through, and she didn’t trust her own judgment right now.
“What do you think of him?” Carly asked instead.
“I think he’s as manipulative as hell,” Lyle growled. “And I let him get the best of me. I’m sorry.”
“But how did he know … ?” Carly began.
“About my own problems
