CHAPTER ELEVEN

When Jenna swung the cruiser into a parking space marked for visitors, the campus looked mostly deserted except for the occasional student hurrying along. She and Jake stepped out of the car and studied a map kiosk near the edge of the lot. She traced the paths and buildings before stopping at Trussler Hall. They set off in that direction, passing ivy-clad brick buildings that whispered tales of academia and youthful aspirations.

Jenna tried to envision the earlier chaos when Jason Reeves, fueled by liquor and fury, had stormed these same paths. She was eager to meet the person who was the target of that rage. Surely, one or the other of these young men held some kind of clue to Amber’s disappearance. So far, they’d had no luck with the one who was in jail.

Trussler Hall loomed ahead, its exterior an imposing edifice of stone and mortar. Gothic arches framed the entrance, giving the impression of crossing into a bygone era. Inside the building, overhead lights illuminated polished floors and the academic achievements proudly displayed on the walls. In a visible living room, the furniture was quite modern.

They took the stairs to the second floor and found room 214 tucked away in a quiet section of the hall. Jenna knocked, the sound sharp in the hushed corridor.

“Come on in,” a voice called from inside.

As they stepped through the door, Jenna announced, “Sheriff Graves and Deputy Hawkins. I spoke to you on the phone.”

Liam Sweeney sat behind a desk littered with textbooks and notes, as if today were just another day for learning. When he stood to offer a handshake, his movements were fluid, a biologist’s precision plus a trace of nervous energy. He was tall and lean, the kind of young man who looked more at home in a laboratory than a boxing ring. His hair was tousled, a testament to many hours spent poring over studies rather than personal grooming.

As he looked up, his eyes – bright with intelligence and a touch of naivety – met Jenna’s gaze. A bruise marred the skin above his left eye, a purple blotch that stood out against his fair complexion. Despite this, his smile was genial, as if physical pain were a mere inconvenience compared to academic pursuit.

Jenna noted the warmth in his handshake, the earnestness in his expression – a young man with dreams not yet dimmed by the world’s harsh realities. Observing the bruised area, she noted the discoloration that indicated a hit taken directly—which could have been a sucker punch. Her training told her that the force behind it was significant, yet here was Liam, brushing off the incident with the same ease one might dismiss a spilled drink.

Liam cleared books off of two chairs and gestured for his visitors to take those seats. Then he sat back down in his desk chair, a gentle sway betraying underlying tension. The bruise was a stark violation on his otherwise unblemished skin, yet his attitude remained buoyant, almost dismissively so.

“Sorry that you had to take that hit,” Jake commented.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” Liam insisted, the light catching the edges of his bruise as he turned towards them. “Jason was awfully drunk; his pent-up frustration got the better of him.”

Jenna scrutinized his expression, searching for signs of bravado or latent anger, but found none. It was clear that Liam truly believed in clemency over retribution. His focus returned to the open textbooks, fingers tapping a rhythm on the paper as if to a tune only he could hear.

“Actually,” Liam continued with a wry smile, “I owe thanks to Trent and Marco, those guys on the wrestling team. If they hadn’t been there, Jason might’ve done more than leave me with a shiner.” He touched the bruise lightly, wincing a bit. “Those wrestlers are built like tanks,” Liam said with a laugh. “I’m not exactly the fighting type, you know? More into nematodes than knockouts.”

“I guess you know your attacker is under arrest right now,” Jenna said.

“Yeah, but like I told Chief Morgan, I don’t want to press charges,” Liam chuckled. “Jason had his reasons to get mad, and I can kind of understand how he felt. Of course, Chief Morgan said it wasn’t up to me whether Jason would face charges, that part’s up to the prosecutor. That’s too bad. I just want to put it all behind me, and I’m sure Jason feels the same way.”

“Did you call to tell Amber about this?” Jake asked.

“No, I haven’t. And I don’t plan to … not if this is the end of it.”

Liam’s voice held an echo of empathy, an unusual but admirable emotion for someone who’d been on the receiving end of Jason’s anger. The revelation prompted a silent communication between Jenna and Jake, their eyes meeting briefly. In that glance, they shared the recognition that Liam apparently knew nothing about the disappearance of Amber, his fiancée.

Jenna cleared her throat, the words she was about to say feeling like boulders in her mouth. “Liam, there’s something we need to tell you. Nobody knows where Amber is right now. Have you heard from her today?”

“No,” he looked startled, then snatched up his phone as if to call her.

Jake intervened. “I’m afraid that Amber’s phone is in police custody,” he explained. “We found it with her abandoned SUV on an old rural road near her home.”

Liam’s face, previously marked with a good-natured ease despite his bruise, shifted into a mask of confusion and then alarm. His chair scraped against the floor as he leaned forward. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“We’re working to piece that together,” Jenna responded, her tone measured to soften the blow. “Right now, every bit of information helps. It might help us figure this out if you can tell us more about Amber and about the relationship you two have.”

“Of course,” Liam said, his voice steadying with purpose. “We met at the start of our freshman year. We were both volunteering at an animal shelter event on campus. You know, signing petitions, raising awareness—that kind of thing. From that moment, we just clicked over our love for animals...and well, our hopes to make a difference in the world.”

He paused, lost for a moment in the memory before collecting himself. “I’m studying biology; she’s in animal science. Our conversations never run dry—we can talk for hours about animal behavior, conservation efforts, even our favorite documentaries. It sounds geeky, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with being passionate about what you care about,” Jenna interjected, offering an encouraging smile.

“Exactly,” Liam agreed. “And this summer, we’ve got a lot on our plates, even though we’re apart. I’ve got classes—trying to graduate early—and Amber, she wanted to volunteer full-time at Paws and Harmony Rescue. She has this incredible heart for rescue animals.” His eyes grew distant, as if he could see her there among the kennels and cages, her dedication as tangible as the walls around them.

“Those moments with the animals, they mean everything to her,” he continued. “She sends me photos every day—of dogs, cats, even a raccoon once that got caught there by mistake. We share this dream of someday opening our own shelter or joining a major effort to protect endangered species. I guess we’re idealists at heart.”

Liam leaned back in his chair, the ghost of a smile touching his lips despite the somber topic at hand. “I come from Kansas City. It’s all hustle and noise, but Amber, she’s the essence of small town—Trentville born and raised.” He glanced around the cramped dorm room, its walls plastered with posters of far-off landscapes and exotic animals. “She always says that there’s a whole world out there to explore, to make a difference in. We’ve talked about moving to a big city after graduation, maybe New York or San Francisco, where the pulse of life is unrelenting.”

Jenna nodded, registering the contrast between their dreams and their beginnings. She could see it now—the yearning in Amber’s eyes, the same that Jenna once harbored, to break free from the familiar confines of Trentville. But what was Amber experiencing at this very moment? Was she scared, hurt, alone?

“Amber believes we’re meant for more than what a small town can offer,” Liam continued, his voice tinged with admiration. “She wants to immerse herself in causes, be part of the bigger picture. I admire that about her—her drive to help, to heal. It’s infectious.”

He stopped his flow of words and asked, “Does any of this help?”

“It could,” Jenna said. “We need to know as much as we can.”

Liam’s expression shifted as he addressed the elephant in the room. “Do you think Jason could have hurt her?” His eyes searched Jenna’s face for answers she didn’t have.

“We’re still considering all possibilities,” Jenna replied. “What do you think?”

He shook his head, a wry chuckle escaping his lips. “You learn a lot about someone when they take a swing at you. Jason was angry, sure, but it wasn’t cold-blooded anger. When he hit me, it was like he just needed to lash out at someone, anyone.” Liam touched the bruise fading beneath his eye. “Even though he was seething, I didn’t see a killer in his eyes. Amber told me once that Jason has a temper, but he’s not cruel.”

Jenna observed the young man before her, weighing his words against her own instincts. Liam seemed genuine, if perhaps a touch naive. But then, love often painted such hopeful pictures. She made a mental note of his perspective—it was another piece of the puzzle, albeit one that didn’t quite fit with the rest just yet.

She asked him another necessary question, “Is there anyone else you think Amber might have been afraid of?”

Liam’s brow furrowed, and he hesitated. “I can’t imagine that her father would ever...” He sighed, pushing back his chair slightly as if the memory itself needed space. “The thing is, she called me yesterday and said she told her father about our engagement. He took it pretty bad, told her to rethink it or she’d ‘live to regret it’.”

Jenna felt a chill despite the warmth of the summer night pressing against the window. She glanced at Jake, catching the flicker of surprise in his eyes mirroring her own. Otto hadn’t mentioned knowing about his daughter’s engagement when they’d spoken to him this morning. She and Jake hadn’t known even about the betrothal until Dr. Reynolds shared Amber’s confidential admission a while later. She wondered—why hadn’t Otto told them the whole truth?

“Thank you, Liam,” Jenna said, her voice steady, though her mind raced with the possible implications of this new information. “This helps us understand the situation better.”

Liam nodded, concern washing over his features as Jenna stood up. “Can’t you tell me anything more?”

“We can’t discuss details of an investigation in process,” she told him. “Besides, anything we said now would just be speculation.”

“Of course,” Liam replied, his tone earnest, the bruise around his eye standing out more prominently in the dim light of the room. “Anything I can do to find her, just let me know. Please.” His eyes held a plea that went beyond mere words. Then he straightened up and tried to look confident, “I’m sure you’ll find Amber in some ordinary place,” he insisted. “Just somewhere that nobody has thought of yet. Please ask her to call me as soon as you do.”

“Of course,” Jenna assured him. “And we’ll be in touch.”

Stepping out into the night, Jenna and Jake navigated the campus pathways back to their car. The evening air had cooled, carrying the faint scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the distant aroma of evening meals from nearby residence halls. They passed under the soft illumination of streetlights over the walkways, the tranquility belying the urgency of their investigation.

“Otto didn’t say a word about the engagement,” Jake muttered. “Not even a hint.”

Jenna’s mind was already turning over the possibilities. Otto Stevens, Amber’s father—a man whose life revolved around his family and his auto shop—was he capable of harming his daughter? It didn’t add up; it couldn’t.

Yet an uneasy feeling had lodged itself firmly in Jenna’s gut. Was the omission merely an oversight by a distressed father, or something more calculated?

“Strange,” she agreed. “You’d think it’d be something a father would mention, given the circumstances.”

“Unless he had a reason not to,” Jake suggested, his words a challenge to their assumptions. “Perhaps there are other ways he could’ve been involved without violence. We need to talk to Otto again.”