Authors: Kate Vale
“Ok
ay
, ok
ay
. Is that it?”
“On
e
mor
e
thing.
I also meant it when I told you to stop hitting on me.
I’m not int
e
r
e
st
e
d
.
”
“
Too bad,
”
he said
,
his voice
gravelly
,
his appraisal of her so o
vert
she couldn’t avoid
noticing
. “I was hoping—well, never mind.
” Then h
is tone
turned accusatory
. “
Som
e
on
e
said you w
e
r
e
seeing
that journalism
guy
,
th
e
on
e
you did th
e
writing workshop with
.
”
She pressed her lips together
.
Don’t answer him. Don’t give him ammunition.
His eyes narrowed
as he continued to stare at her
. “
The way I see it,
the two of
you
probably
took advantage of your time in the woods to jump
each other’s
bones
—away
from prying eyes
and wagging tongues
. Y
ou know,
no
regular
students and other faculty
.
And no kid
around
, either
. I
sure
would have, but maybe he doesn’t have the balls—
”
“How dare you—”
She did not care that he might guess the truth from t
he fury in her eyes
and the
heat in
her cheeks
.
“I guessed right, did
n’t I?
”
He gave a short laugh
. “
I’m betting y
ou’ll
g
e
t tir
e
d
of him
soon enough
.
Journalism types never
really know how to satisfy women—
not
a woman like you
, Amanda.Tricia told me
all about you
and that Dylan guy
.
When you do
—get tired of him
,
I mean
—
l
e
t
m
e
know.
You and I shar
e
a background h
e
do
e
sn’t hav
e
.
You and I—
”
“You and I shar
e
nothing
, Evan
—except
graduate work at
Iowa
,”
she
int
e
rrupt
e
d
. “And just so w
e
’r
e
cl
e
ar.My p
e
rsonal lif
e
is just that—p
e
rsonal. On campus, I am Prof
e
ssor Gardn
e
r. P
e
riod. I don’t want to h
e
ar that you ar
e
talking about m
e
—or anyon
e
I might b
e
s
ee
ing
or not seeing
—on
or off
campus.”
She
turn
e
d
her back on
him
and opened the door for him to leave
.
Wh
e
n h
e
r
e
ach
e
d
out to touch h
e
r should
e
r, sh
e
slapp
e
d
his hand away. “G
e
t out of my offic
e
.”
H
e
back
e
d
up and wh
e
n h
e
turn
e
d
to go, Marcus was standing
near
her office
door, his arm upraised as if getting ready to knock
.
E
van walk
e
d
past him and
meandered
down the hall
.
“
Amanda?”
S
he gathered up papers for her next class
,
her breath coming fast,
her hands trembling
.
“
What
?”
she asked
, her voice betraying her tension
.
Marcus
spoke soft and low
, a clear counterpoint to her agitation.
“
I cam
e
by to s
ee
if C
e
c
e
lia was ok
ay
.
I saw how sh
e
r
e
act
e
d
wh
e
n
E
van put his hands on
h
e
r y
e
st
e
rday.”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down.
“Sh
e
was ups
e
t, but w
e
talk
e
d
about it
.
I think
sh
e
’s
all right
now. Thanks for asking.
”
Her hands were
still
shaking as she
reached for her briefcase
.
“
You’re upset.
Do you want m
e
to go knock his block off?”
He
p
ointed
down th
e
hall.
So Marcus had guessed what Evan had been up to.
She
moved closer to the door
, keeping her voice down
. “
Ar
e
you trying to
play Sir Lancelot
for
th
e
fair maid
e
n
?”
“I don’t think you n
ee
d
r
e
scuing, but if you want m
e
to play th
e
part, I will.”
“H
e’s taller and a lot heavier than you
are
. You might have
some trouble knocking him down.
”
She started to smile
.
“
And
i
t isn’t n
e
c
e
ssary. But thank
you for off
e
ring.
”
She did not want
to imagine
how such an
e
ncount
e
r might
e
nd.
He took a step forward.
“I saw him try to kiss you
yesterday
.
What should
I conclud
e
from that?”
“What ar
e
you asking
, Marcus
? Don’t you trust m
e
?” Sh
e
look
e
d
into the deep blue of his eyes—eyes the same color as her daughter’s
, eyes that calmed and excited her, eyes that told her what he was thinking, what he was asking
.
H
er
pulse
quieted
before he could answer
.
“
You
can
conclud
e
anything
you want
. H
e
was out of lin
e
. I told him
so
.”
“I’m glad.” H
e
shuffled his feet.
“Any chanc
e
w
e
can hav
e
dinn
e
r soon?”
“I’m working on it.”
She
kiss
e
d
h
e
r fing
e
rs and as sh
e
brush
e
d
by him to go to class, sh
e
pr
e
ss
e
d
h
e
r fing
e
rs to his lips. “That’s th
e
b
e
st I can do for now,”
she whispered
and one
corner of her mouth lifted in
a
slight
grin
.
“J
ust so you know, she wants nothing to do with Evan.”
He nodded
and
follow
ed Amanda out of the department
.
“Marc, it’s Mik
e
.
I hav
e
som
e
n
e
ws for you
—from Stan
, the detective in Madison
.”
“Give it to me
.”
He sat down and closed the pizza box.
“That littl
e
girl
in th
ose
clippings
you found in that guy’s clos
e
t
a
while back
?”
“I’m sitting down. Go ah
e
ad.”
“Your guy was
probably
th
e
on
e
who kill
e
d
h
e
r. H
e
r moth
e
r r
e
cogniz
e
d
th
e
scarf. Som
e
of that oth
e
r stuff you s
e
nt had fing
e
r
prints on it
, too
.
Th
e
y match
e
d
his.
Blood on the scarf was from the child.
”
Marcus’
heart
thudded in his chest
.
“How
did the cops get a match
?”
“H
e
was in th
e
syst
e
m
.
A
f
e
w y
e
ars ago,
he had
a DUI conviction.”
“Ar
e
you sur
e
h
e
kill
e
d
th
e
littl
e
girl?”