Obsessed by Darkness

by Autumn Jordon

  “That still doesn’t answer my question. Straight up. No BS. Are you a student here?”

  “As of last Friday. I’m a late arrival.” His broad smile exposed another damn cute feature, a dimple in his right cheek.

  “I’d say. We’re into our fourth week of classes. Do you have your books yet?” she asked, noticing he carried none.

  “Oh, yeah.” His free hand went to his shoulder as if reaching for a backpack. “I purchased them as soon as I arrived. They’re in my car. I have a few hours between classes, so I thought I’d head over to the gym and check it out. I try to work out a couple hours a day.”

  There was no doubt he told the truth about keeping in shape. From the back, she’d definitely noticed his shoulders stretched the thermal material of his Henley and his faded jeans fit him very well.

  Yes, she would definitely have remembered seeing him.

  “You said you followed me from the library, but your books are in your car and you were heading to the gym?” She pointed in the different directions, insinuating something was off.

  “You are suspicious, aren’t you?” He leaned toward her, halting mere inches from her face. “I’m really not a reporter. I had classes between eight and eleven. I put my books in my car and headed to the gym. Then I remembered I needed a book for a reading assignment for English Lit and headed back to the library.”

  Her overwhelming attraction for him was sweeping away all reason. She tamped down the urge to close the inches between them and taste the appealing mint on his breath. “Where’s the book?” She mocked the way he tilted his head by tilting hers. She waited for his answer.

  After a five-second stand-off, where her knees slowly melted into Jell-O joints, he fortunately pulled back, allowing cool air between them.

  “The librarian set up an account for me and the book is being downloaded to my cloud.” He pulled his iPhone from his pocket. “Would you like me to access it here for you?”

  Technology changed the rules on so many levels.

  “No. That’s OK.”

  He tucked his phone into his front jeans pocket and fished his wallet out of the back one. “Look. Here is my student ID. Do you believe me now?”

  Chase Hunter. He’d told her the truth.

  “I guess.” She shrugged while eyeing the ID, like it really didn’t matter. “Since you’re four weeks behind, you must have a lot of catching up to do.”

  “Did you want to help me?”

  Damn him. His dimple made her heart skip.

  He wasn’t a reporter, and he was cute… But she didn’t have time for a relationship, not now. She had a ton of work to do on her thesis, as well as all her other obligations. She stepped back, putting more space between them. “It might behoove you to give up the gym time and start your studies?”

  “You’re right.” He tucked his wallet back into his pocket and offered his hand to her. “I’m sorry. I should’ve introduced myself. My name is—”

  “Chase Hunter,” she said, cutting him off.

  His eyes widened.

  “Your ID.”

  Hesitantly, she accepted his unexpectedly gentle grip. His hands weren’t soft. They had enough roughness to them to reveal he wasn’t bound to a desk and did some physical work.

  “Ah, right. So are you going to tell me your name?”

  His thumb brushed the back of her hand, sending tingles up her arm, and despite the cool air surrounding them, Emma’s skin grew hot under her two layers of clothing. She tugged her hand free from his, hooked two fingers over the top of her scarf encircling her neck and loosened it a bit.

  “Emma Lewis.”

  “Nice to meet you, Emma.” The iris-colored shards in his blue eyes caught the noon sun and reflected shimmers of interest back to her. “I guess I’ll head back to my car and get my books. You were heading that way, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “To your car?”

  “No. I live here on campus.” Emma couldn’t explain it, but her step felt lighter as Chase fell into stride beside her. His musky cologne wafted in the air between them as she pointed in the direction of the graduate student apartments which were separated from the under-classmen dorms. She resisted the urge to walk elbow to elbow with him in order to inhale a deeper draw of his maleness.

  “Nice. I had to take an apartment off campus. The place is small but I don’t need a lot of room. I travel pretty light.”

  “Where?”

  “Ah… Damn. For the life of me, I can’t recall the address. I know how to get there. The closest main street is Riverside. So, are you a freshman?”

  A laugh escaped her, even though she’d noted he’d openly avoided a real answer. At nearly twenty-five, no way could she be mistaken for a girl of eighteen. She knew he fed her a pick-up line, but warmth flushed Emma’s cheeks anyway. “No. I’m a grad student, remember? I’m working on my doctorate.”

  “Really? I didn’t take you as…ah—”

  “Being that old?” she qualified. They fell into single file, as if they’d walked together many times, as they passed the students congregated on the bridge.

  Emma’s smile faded as guilt reared up inside her. How easily a handsome man had made her forget about Denise.

  Behind her, Chase laughed. The deep, yet light quality of his chuckle held the sadness at bay, so it couldn’t dampen her mood.

  “No. I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say you don’t look like a doctor.”

  “I’m not, yet.”

  The drone of motorcycles pulled Chase’s attention for a second as they stepped out from under the shadow of the large maples lining that section of the path. The bright sun caused him to shield his eyes before he plucked his sunglasses from the collar of his shirt. “So you’ll be a doctor of what?”

  “Chemistry."

  Emma saw something quizzical in his eyes before he slipped on his sunglasses. She stopped and raised her chin slightly.

  "Does that surprise you?"

  "No. I mean… Yeah. A little, I guess."

  “Why?"

  “I don't know.” He shrugged. “You don't seem like the white-lab-coat type."

  “Why?”

  “The way you were watching people, I assumed you’d be a psychology grad.”

  “Oh.” A smile played on her lips as she spun on her boot heel and walked briskly away from him. When he caught up to her, she asked, “So, tell me, Chase, why the delay in arriving?”

  The muscles of his jaw worked. “Well I ah… It’s a long story.”

  “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

  “No, it's OK. I ah… I just got out of the hospital.”

  He looked damn healthy to her. “I hope it was nothing serious.”

  “A motorcycle accident.” He tapped his left leg. “I broke my leg and lay in traction for eight weeks.”

  He looked like the type of guy who’d ride a Harley, especially now that he sported his sunglasses. “Ouch. Not the way I’d want to spend my summer.”

  “Yeah. It’s one I don’t want to do over.”

  “You look tanned for being laid up for eight weeks.”

  “Still suspicious, huh?” He slanted his head and smiled. “I took a week and headed down to the Florida Keys before coming here. I deserved a little sun. You know, before hitting the grindstone.”

  She wondered what else he caught up on while he visited Florida and immediately chastised herself for the jealousy poking at her. She hadn’t known the guy twenty minutes, much less a week, and she had no intention of getting involved with him. So why feel green-eyed?

  She slammed the door on the irritating mental image of him getting hot and heavy with a supermodel she’d recently seen on the cover of a magazine. Instead, she focused on their present conversation.

  “And before the accident, what did you do? I don’t think you’re exactly eighteen.”

  She really did like the rich, throaty sound of his chuckle.

  “I went into the Ar
my right out of high school.”

  Just like her youngest brother.

  “After my stint, I worked a few different jobs down the east coast. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I even drove tractor-trailer for a while.”

  He looked away while answering the question.

  She recognized the far off gaze and wondered what he hadn’t told her. “And you do now? Know what you want to do, I mean?”

  “Well, not exactly, but I figured I’d give college a try and see if something comes to me. You know, use my VA benefits.”

  She wouldn’t want to hold a test tube of nitro right now, fearing it would slip through her moist palms. Why did she find him so attractive? They were total opposites on so many levels. She worked most of her waking hours and had her life totally planned out. He had no direction. She already knew work came second for Chase, and fun, first.

  “I see.”

  “What do you see?” he asked, stopping for an answer.

  “Nothing. So no more bike?”

  “No. I still have my bike. I had it fixed.”

  “I bet it’s a Harley.”

  He chuckled. “How did you know? Do you ride?”

  “Me?” She chortled while envisioning herself, screaming her lungs blue as she clung to a driver’s torso. But if the driver were Chase, maybe she could whimper quietly on his shoulder while she clung to him.

  What the hell was she thinking? She had no time for a man, especially one who could easily make her forget her priorities like Chase seemed to be doing now. She should be studying, not strolling at a snail’s pace, enjoying the feel of him by her side.

  Emma cleared her throat. “No. I’m deathly afraid of them. I took an educated guess as to what type of bike you might own.” She walked faster.

  Chase stayed with her until she stopped short.

  “I’m going this way.” She pointed in the direction of the buildings behind her. “Nice meeting you. I wish you luck in getting caught up with your studies and finding whatever it is you’re supposed to do with your life.”

  “Wait.” Chase grabbed her arm before she could turn away. His heat penetrated her sweater jacket, soothing her skin, making her want to close the space between them. “Can I buy you lunch?”

  Even though his eyes were hidden by the dark shades he wore, she felt his intense gaze. She wanted to say yes, but what would be the point?

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t you like me?”

  He pouted his bottom lip and Emma curled her fingers around her purse strap so she wouldn’t reach out and brush her fingertips across its fullness. Instead she simply smiled. “I like you fine. It’s just I have a ton of work to do.”

  “It’s hard to concentrate on an empty stomach. What do you say? You can show me around campus. Take me under your wing, so to speak.”

  She was tempted to say yes, but… “Sorry. I can’t.”

  “Chase, wait up!”

  The call came from behind them and made both of them turn. A woman with cropped jet-black hair, tinted bright red at the edges waved in their direction. She clutched a stack of books to her thin chest and her long cardigan fluttered around her calves as she cut across the lawn and trotted toward them on heeled boots.

  Emma peered at Chase. “A friend of yours?”

  “No.” His chuckle was strained. “Her name is Jolene. She’s in my history class. We met this morning.”

  “And you said you hadn’t made friends…” Emma cooed and tugged her arm free from the hold he had on her elbow. “Nice meeting to you.” She pivoted on her heel and stalked away without looking back.

  ***

  What the hell had just happened?

  Dumb luck caused him to find Emma Lewis so quickly. They had been having a nice conversation and he was making headway, gaining her friendship, when all of a sudden she went cold as ice. By the heaviness of her steps on the cement pathway, Chase figured Emma Lewis was upset about something he’d said; but what?

  He admired the red highlights shimmering in her long brown hair. He wouldn’t mind combing his fingers through their softness, but he could never do that. He wouldn’t let himself be distracted by her rich, dark eyes either, or her flawless skin, or her perfectly proportioned body. And he hadn’t missed how nicely her five-six or five-seven frame filled out her jeans.

  This situation had the potential to become a high-profile case if he and Jolene didn’t find some answers before another student died.

  “Hey, baby face,” Jolene chirped.

  His partner wore a shit-ass grin as she sashayed toward him, kicking up a few leaves. Her charm bracelet sparkled in the sunlight.

  Jolene was an experienced undercover agent, as were the other members on the C.U.F.F. team. Why hadn’t she been chosen leader instead of him? Were his youthful looks the defining reason he’d been chosen to lead this case? Or did his superior really believe Chase could handle the job?

  He stole a glance Emma’s way and his fingers curled. He hadn’t anticipated his heart would do flips while breathing in the soft floral scent of their current number-one suspect. He was in trouble.

  Jolene dipped and bumped his upper arm with her shoulder. “That’s right. I’m talking to you, hot stuff. So what have you been doing all morning?”

  He stared down at Jolene, casting Emma Lewis out of his mind. “You should talk. You’re a pixie trying to look taller than five-foot-two with your hair spiked and wearing those heels.” He fixed on the heels, shook his head and asked softly, “How are you going to run down the bad guys in those things?”

  “They slip off real easy.” She showed off her footwear for a second and then stared past him. “Who was that?”

  “Emma Lewis.”

  Jolene’s brow peaked beyond her bangs. “Wow! You work fast. How did you find her? Babe radar.”

  He rolled his eyes at her amused grin. “I stumbled upon her. She was at the crime scene.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Just watching everyone, everything.”

  “She’s one of those freaks?” Jolene visibly grimaced.

  He hadn’t known who Emma was when he came upon her. The woman had captured his eye, and her sincere look of sorrow had drawn him to her. He knew firsthand, the troubled emotions etched on her face. “I don’t think so.”

  He stalked away from Jolene, toward the parking lot.

  From the corner of his eye, Chase caught a glimpse of Emma before she disappeared from view behind a row of Hydrangea bushes. She liked him. He hadn’t been out of the game that long to misread the signals her smile had sent, which meant getting close to her was a possibility. One thing needled him though: He liked her. His gut already told him she had nothing to do with Denise Davidson’s death, and he knew that was not good. He had to keep his lower head in check until evidence proved she wasn’t connected.

  “She’s very pretty, in a wholesome kind of way.” Jolene’s heels clinked against the concrete as she tried to walk double-time to keep up with him.

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “You’re not that good a liar, Hunter.” She rummaged in her large purse and then held out a tissue. “Here.”

  “What’s that for?”

  “To wipe away your drool.”

  “Quit being an ass-wipe.” He walked faster.

  “Sensitive,” Jolene called to his back.

  It ticked him off Jolene had so easily picked up on his attraction to Emma Lewis. And it pissed him off even more that he’d felt the attraction in the first place.

  “Will you slow down?” she called after him.

  “I thought you said you could run in those things,” he answered over his shoulder.

  “I said I could slip them off easily. Do you want me to slip them off? Don’t make me slip them off. Chase. You. Will. Be. Sorry.”

  Jolene nearly stumbled at his abrupt halt.

  He turned. “Now I get why Will never teams you and Aden together. Two jokers can’t be a good thing wh
en trying to solve a case.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Say what you’ve got to say, Jolene. Get the crap out of your system and let’s move on. We’ve a job to do.”

  While watching the students in the immediate area, the C.U.F.F. team’s pixie adjusted the books he’d nearly knocked from her grasp and slipped on her law enforcement face.

  “FYI. Aden and I work very well together,” she responded in a loud whisper. “I noticed you and Ms. Lewis were doing a lot of chatting. Good job on making the connection. But, I sense you like her, just not as the killer we’re looking for.” Jolene’s thick-lashed, dark eyes were a trademark of her Hispanic heritage and at that moment they latched onto his. “What are your instincts telling you? Is there a connection between her and the drugs?”

  Chase waited until a pair of coeds passed by and then said in a hush tone, “She was very suspicious of me.”

  “That’s a yes.”

  “No. Not a yes. She believed I was a reporter. She defended the victim, and was peeved when I suggested Denise died of an overdose. I have a feeling Ms. Lewis is as straight as you and me, but I’m not ruling out anyone until I’m convinced they’re not involved.”

  “Sounds like an argument to stay on her. Well, not on her. You know what I mean.” Jolene chortled. Noting his sneer, she stifled a laugh and put her straight face back on. “I’ll ask around and see if I can dig up any information on her.”

  “I don’t want anyone alerted we’re investigating her.”

  “Don’t worry. I can be crafty too.”

  He stared over her head at the buildings off in the distance. “I think I need to take chemistry.”

  “If she’s a doctoral candidate, won’t she be suspicious if you show up in her class?”

  He wiggled his brows at Jolene. “I told her I was four weeks behind in class study. I’ll need a little help getting up to speed and doctoral candidates do lead study groups.”

  “Ah, you’re a sly dog, Chase Hunter.” Jolene waggled a finger at him, jangling her charm bracelet. Out of the blue, she snapped her fingers then reached into her sweater pocket. “By the way, Gary called. They secured an apartment for you. The chief of security here on campus happened to have a space above his garage. Here’s the address.” She handed him a slip of paper. “His name is Frank Knepper. You’re supposed to meet him there at one-thirty. If you can’t make it, then after six.”