Chapter 315

I almost panicked when Mrs. Park lost consciousness. But then I saw she was still breathing, and I laid my sweater over her.

“Hang in there, Mrs. Park,” I said and gently stroked her dark hair. “Help is almost here.” She had to live. Her family needed her.

I felt terrible that this poor Beta woman got hurt trying to help me expose the corruption in the admissions system. It was brave of her to meet me here with the documents.

She was doing it for her son, but the information she gave me would help many non-Alphas in the future to get the education they deserved.

The man who ran into the diner to tell us a woman had been struck by a car approached me.

“Is she alive?” he asked. “I can’t believe that driver just hit her and took off like that.”

He was still shaking and freaked out from seeing the car hit Mrs. Park. He needed to be calm enough to tell the police what happened. I had to help him calm down and think clearly.

“Yes, she is,” I said. “And the ambulance is almost here to take her to the hospital. The police are coming too. Can you tell me what kind of car hit her?”

“It was one of them big, fancy luxury SUVs,” the witness said. “It was dark blue. The driver was parked over there.” He pointed at empty slots at the back of the lot. “It peeled out and swerved right at her.”

“Did you see the driver?” Maybe I would recognize a description.

“It looked like a woman,” he said. “She looked tiny sitting behind the wheel of that big vehicle, and I think she had gray hair. She had a hat on and dark sunglasses.”

I didn’t see what happened, but the driver's description made me more confident that this was no accident.

The ambulance arrived, and the EMTs hurried to get Mrs. Park to the hospital. After the police spoke to the witness, I went back to Frampton University.

I parked in the student lot and hurried to Dr. Clark’s office. She was just leaving, but when she saw my face, she insisted on returning to her office to talk.

“I can tell you're upset, Daisy,” she said. “I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll sit on the sofa and talk.”

“Do you know what kind of car Provost Shires drives?” I asked after we were seated with cups of hot chamomile tea.

“I can check. The staff must register any vehicles that will be parked in campus lots with the university,” she said as she opened her laptop.

She soon had an answer for me. “Lydia Shires owns a Gray BMW sedan.”

“Then it wasn’t her,” I mumbled. “Maybe I was wrong about the situation.”

But Dr. Clark was still looking at her computer screen. “Lydia also has her husband’s car registered. She must drive it to work occasionally. It’s a Blue Lincoln Corsair.”

“That’s a big SUV, right?” I asked.

“I believe it is,” Dr. Clark replied. “Why? What happened?”

“I met a new source at the diner, and afterward, they were hit by a big blue luxury SUV,” I explained.

Dr. Clark was stunned for a moment. “Was Lydia Shires driving?”

It was a hit-and-run. A witness told me a tiny woman driving the SUV hit my source on purpose.” I replied. “I feel terrible about it. I can’t let anyone else get hurt, but I can’t let the story go either.”

“Who was the victim of the hit and run?”

Mrs. Park, the admissions department secretary,” I said. “She told me her son wanted her to bring me proof that the university admissions department discriminates against non-Alphas.”

“Oh no! Is Sue Park going to be okay?” Dr. Clark asked. “She is a wonderful person. We’ve spoken many times at staff events.”

“I don’t know,” I answered.

We were silent again for several minutes, thinking about Mrs. Park. Lydia Shires belonged in prison for what she had done. But I’d bet she already had taken steps to cover up her crime.

I stared into my teacup. “I can’t give up the story. It’s too important, but I feel guilty about Mrs. Park.”

“I understand,” Dr. Clark said. “However, I’m also concerned about someone harming you.”

“I thought of that, but I still can’t give up the story,” I insisted. “It won’t be the first time I’ve stood up to dangerous people.”

“I’ll arrange for you to meet Shane Ross,” Dr. Clark said. “If you work with him, they’ll know they won’t be able to silence you both. Plus, he’ll know ways to protect your sources better.”

What happened at the diner this afternoon told me I needed help. Shane is a professional. One of the things he could teach me was better methods of collecting information.

His advice and assistance could be invaluable to the report. I needed to step up my game. The report was too important to mess it up.

But a successful, well-known investigative reporter like Shane Ross may not be interested in working with an amateur like me.

“Will he work with me?” I asked.

“On this story, I think he would,” Dr. Clark replied. “There’s only one way to find out for sure.”

She picked up her phone and dialed. I felt a jolt of excitement when I heard a male voice answer her call.

“Shane, there’s someone I want you to meet,” Dr. Clark said. “She is a new student who is investigating a story that I know you’ll be interested in.”

“Yes,” Dr. Clark said in answer to a question I couldn’t hear. “She’s doing well so far, but the subjects of the investigation have resorted to violence against her sources.”

Dr. Clark listened to Shane talk for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sure she could get the story into print on her own. However, we both feel the story is too important to take any chances of her being stopped.”

Shane asked another question that I couldn’t hear.

“The story is about the discrimination against non-Alphas in the college admissions system,” Dr. Clark replied.

“Fantastic!” I heard Shane exclaim before he lowered his voice again.

“That’s what I thought,” Dr. Clark said. “They won’t be able to silence both of you.” Then she said, “Uh-huh, I’ll ask her.”

She turned to me. “Shane will meet you for dinner in Denhurst tonight. Is there a restaurant you prefer?”

“Ask him to meet me at Gray’s Restaurant at seven o’clock,” I replied. I could still get a reservation there anytime.

Dr. Clark hung up. “He said he wants to meet you to discuss the story and a possible collaboration.”

I was too excited to sit still any longer. After thanking Dr. Clark, I rushed home.

I locked the documents Mrs. Park gave me in Victor’s secret drawer before laying out a dress and shoes. I was thrilled to be meeting Shane Ross, and I wanted to look my best.

I danced around the bedroom for a moment. Too bad Amy couldn’t be there. Maybe I’d ask Shane to take a selfie with me. I’d never seen what he looked like, but I imagined him as a serious-looking brainiac.

“You should shower and do your hair and makeup over,” I told myself in the mirror.

Victor entered the apartment moments after I got out of the shower, and I was in my robe, trying to tame my hair.

“Do we have plans that I forgot about?” he asked.

“No, I’m meeting an investigative reporter for dinner to talk about getting his help with my report,” I said. “You can come along if you want. The reservation is at Gray’s.”

“I don’t know, honey,” he said. “I’m exhausted. I think I’ll stay home and have pizza delivered.”

He kissed me and left the bathroom.

A half-hour later, I found him in the living room in front of the TV.

He did a double take when he saw I was dressed in another one of my mother’s cocktail dresses, and my hair and makeup were flawless.

“Didn’t you say you’re meeting a reporter for help with your article?” Victor asked.

“Yep,” I said as I put my phone into an evening bag.

“Who is it?” he asked. “Have I heard of them?”

“Probably.” I slipped my feet into three-inch black pumps. “It’s Shane Ross.”

Victor turned off the TV and dropped the remote on the coffee table.

“You know, I’m in the mood for one of Elliot Gray’s delicious steaks after all,” Victor said as he rushed to the bedroom.

I checked my watch. “Hurry. I’m going to be late. The reservation is for seven.”

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” Victor replied. “Don’t leave without me.”

I shook my head and sighed. “What made him change his mind so fast,” I mumbled.