CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
“Hello? Clem?” Stella felt relieved as she heard his voice on the line. In the early afternoon, her university mentor, who also happened to be a retired FBI agent, was often busy taking classes or giving lectures at the University of Chicago.
She’d waited until she’d arrived back at the New Haven police department before calling him, in case she needed to take notes while they spoke. Now, she was sitting in her car outside the precinct.
“Hey, Stella,” Clem responded. “You caught me in between lectures. I’m walking through the university. It’s a six-minute walk to the next hall. So we have six minutes to speak,” he said, sounding pleased by the precision of the timing.
“I need your advice on a problem case,” she said.
“You probably don’t,” Clem said, sounding amused,
