CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
Avery was surprised that so much had happened in the short time she’d been away. Rose’s dorm room was filled with Rose’s two roommates, Thompson, Fagen, Connelly, and a sketch artist Avery had never seen before. A locksmith was already at work on the door.
“Fill me in,” Avery whispered to Connelly.
“Fagen pulled both of the girls from their classes. Turns out they were here when the guy showed up. He came yesterday afternoon: tall, maybe around six-two, and was dressed like a service agent in a green jumpsuit. Maybe Spanish or Latino, they couldn’t be sure. Very light skinned, green eyes, older. Walked with a limp. Thompson knew a sketch guy that could come in immediately. The dean and campus security have been alerted. The lock is being fixed,” he noted, “and a gua
