And in that moment Nat understood, with a certainty that went as deep as bone, something she had never realized before. That each of these people would have done this for her, from the day she was born to the day she drew her last breath on earth, bound by their common name and their very blood. And if the price to be paid for that profoundly human service was the occasional cruelty, thoughtless comment, or simple disregard, it was worth every single penny.
Because they were family.
Chapter 46
“Ms. Greco, look over here!" a photographer shouted, one of the mob outside her apartment building the next morning. "Ms. Greco, any comment?”
“Nat, what did you have to do with stopping Williams's escape?”
“Ms. Greco, please! Any comment?”
“The Chester County D.A. says you were integral to their law enforcement efforts. Can you explain?"
Nat raised a hand as she hurried into her building. She'd slept about two hours at the hospital, but nothing could get her down today, not even the press. Paul was out of the woods this morning. She entered the lobby lighthearted, until she reached the security desk, manned by Bill in his uniform.
Oops. Nat had completely forgotten. He had lent her his Kia for a day, a few days ago, and his cell phone, too. She had no excuse. J was on the lam?
"Professor!" Bill rose, smiling expectantly, and Nat felt a wave of guilt.
"I'm so sorry. I'll get you your car and your phone today. I was kind of busy."
"That's all right. I know. You caught the crooks. You're famous. Bill beamed at her with new regard.
Nat blushed. "Not really.”
“Really!" Bill gestured to the press outside. "They been out there all night. They interviewed me about you, and I told 'em how nice you are, how smart. You're a hero!" He extended a hand over the desk. "Put er there.”
“Aw." Nat shook his hand, and Bill tugged her close to the desk. "Tell me somethin.' Did ya use my car to make a getaway?" Nat winced. "Frankly, yes."
"Great! Then my wife says we could sell it on eBay." Bill made a finger frame in the air. "For sale, Getaway Car."
Hoo boy. "Glad to help out, Bill." Nat crossed to the elevator and pushed the button. "See you later."
"Would you autograph the car for me, like they do on Jay Leno?" Bill called after her, but Nat pretended not to hear as she stepped into the elevator and the doors slid closed. She had to shower up, change, and check in on her job, if she still had one. And she wouldn't mind seeing Angus, either.
Nat opened the heavy front doors of the law school and entered the Great Hall, whose vaulted cupola of eggshell white, tall Palladian windows, and glistening marble staircase testified to the school's old-Ivy creds. Students milled around, talking and laughing between classes, and a few turned as she walked in. Her navy pumps clacked across the polished floor of rose-and-tan marble. She was wearing a conservative navy suit with her white punk hair, sending the sartorial equivalent of mixed signals.
"Hi, Marie." Nat waved to the guard as she passed the security desk.
"Stop right there, Miss," the guard called out, her voice echoing in the hall. "I need to see your ID."
Nat turned. "It's me, Marie. Nat Greco."
"Professor Greco?" Marie broke into a grin of recognition. "Sorry, I didn't see your face! Well, welcome back. I knew you didn't kill anybody."
"Thanks." Nat cringed, and the students started turning to her, one by one.
Marie reached for her newspaper and waved it in the air. "You stopped that gangsta from escaping. I read all about you, on the first page. Will you sign your picture for me?"
"Maybe later," Nat answered, but when she turned to go, she found herself surrounded by a ring of students, gawking with admiration. She recognized a few of the faces from her first-year classes, and Warren, Carling, and Chu from her seminar, gazing at her with new eyes.
"Did you really blow up a car, Professor Greco?" Warren asked, as they all gathered around. "That is so cool."
"I didn't-"
Chu corrected, "No, she blew up oil tanks."
"Not, really, I-"
"We didn't know you were such a badass!" Carling grinned and raised a palm. "Come on, gimme some!"
"You got it!" Nat slapped him five and suddenly understood why guys slapped five all the time. Because it was fun.
Just then the door to the faculty lounge opened, and Vice Dean McConnell walked out, some papers in his hand. As soon as he spotted Nat, his face froze like an academic ice sculpture.
"Professor Greco," he said, walking toward her, and the students fell silent, watching.
"Hello, Jim." Nat thought he might strangle her until a thatch of thick gray hair popped out behind him, followed by a trademark red bow tie. It was Dean Samuel Morris, back from the African veldt, and not a moment too soon. His hooded eyes flew open behind his tortoiseshell bifocals and he broke into a characteristic grin.
"Nat, here you are!" Dean Morris, an adorably chubby man, threw his arms around her in a hug that smelled of pipe tobacco. "What am I hearing about you?"
"It's a long story, Sam." Nat enjoyed his aromatic embrace until she spotted McConnell over her shoulder, his eyes narrowing. Dean Morris released her just enough to slip an arm over her shoulder, scoop her out of the crowd, and propel her from the Great Hall into the school lobby.
"You must tell me all about it. I've been fielding calls all morning from the media, and I should tell you, I have been in touch with the police. They faxed me your statement, at my request."
Gulp. Nat couldn't tell from his tone whether she was about to be fired or praised, and he wouldn't show his hand in front of the students anyway. They were collecting in the lobby, smiling at her and even waving as she passed. Melanie Anderson, from her seminar, began clapping, and the other students burst into spontaneous applause, which echoed in the cavernous lobby. Nat acknowledged them with a happy nod, and Dean Morris flashed them an official smile as they rounded the corner on the way to his office.
Vice Dean McConnell fell into step with them. "Sam, we can't just say, 'all's well that ends well' I expressly forbade Nat here from going out to the prison, and she went anyway."
"That's where the bad guys are," Nat said lightly, but Dean Morris seemed not to hear as he swept them down the hall, where more students turned to gawk, then started buzzing and finally clapping.
McConnell continued, "We've never had a law professor charged with murder, whether or not the charges were dropped. It's unprecedented. I warned her many times last week-"
"Not here, Jim." Dean Morris silenced him with a hand chop and turned to Nat. "We do need to speak in private."
Nat's heart sank. What bothered him? Theft? Fraud? Arson? Pick a felony, any felony.
Vice Dean McConnell frowned. "I would like to be included in this meeting. As you know, Professor Greco is up for tenure this year and-"
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary." Dean Morris whisked Nat from the vice dean, past the secretaries looking at her starry-eyed, and into his office, where he gestured her into the seat across from the desk. "Please, sit."
"Thanks," Nat said uncertainly, and Dean Morris shut the door behind them and turned to her, his expression somber.
"I'll get right to the point. The police statement said that you hid out in an underground tunnel, used for the Underground Railroad. Is that true?"
"Well, it was more like a hole," Nat answered, surprised.
"This hole was previously unknown? You discovered it yourself?"