They had arrived in the area late yesterday afternoon and Jolene, posing as an early-education transfer student, had easily slipped into a dorm room slot vacated by a recent dropout while he had spent the night in a local motel.
“Great. They came through.” He doubted anyone would question the head of security about Chase’s presence on campus. He didn’t mention to Jolene that Emma Lewis had questioned where he stayed, and he had fumbled for a response. He had to be prepared for anything and any question.
“You OK?”
“Yeah.” He pocketed the note.
Jolene extended her arm and checked her watch. “I’ve got to run. I’m meeting a couple of the girls at the food court for lunch.”
“Sounds like you’re enjoying this assignment already.”
“It’s bringing back memories. I’m getting chummy.” She bobbed her head in the direction Emma had disappeared. “Maybe you should too.”
“That’s my plan.”
Chapter Six
“Damn baby-proof caps,” Emma cursed while struggling to open a bottle of aspirin. Why had she suddenly developed a headache? She never got headaches.
Because of him, Chase Hunter. For some reason the guy sent the sleeping butterflies in her chest fluttering like they were mad bats. And those bats had warmed up areas of her body that hadn’t felt anything in ages.
Didn’t she have enough distractions?
Damn him.
Every coed they’d passed had flashed him an open invitation with their smiles.
“Open up, you stupid bottle.”
She thrived in the academic competition ring, but not when it came to men. Then she withered like a cut flower in the desert heat. She always had.
“Remember Andy,” she mumbled under her breath. They’d had a connection, always had, since they were in grade school, but as soon as Jeannie Baker came on the scene with her size C pom-poms, and set her sights on Andy, Emma’s relationship with him had nosedived into history. Why? Because she’d let it.
The same scenario happened again after she arrived here at Tri-Penn—with Seth Newman, that time. He was now married to Sara.
When it came to competing for men, she didn’t have the killer instinct and she was pretty sure the lack of competence caused her headache now.
The memory of the pretty woman sashaying toward Chase, wearing a seductive smile, was too familiar.
Jolene, he’d called her. They’d apparently gotten friendly in a short time.
Emma gritted her teeth. She had to get over her insecurity where men were concerned, otherwise she’d end up old and alone, surrounded only by test tubes and equation boards.
“What good is receiving a Nobel Peace Prize, if there’s no one to share the occasion with?” She banged the lid against the countertop and gripped the bottle tighter, straining to twist the cap free. “I mean it. I’ll take a hammer to you. Grrr.”
“Whoa. Someone's in a bad mood.” Nanette breezed into the captain’s kitchen wearing a couple of towels. One plush towel wrapped Nanette’s slim frame and the other covered her head, turban style, trapping her long brown hair within its thick folds. Little beads of moisture from the shower still clung to her shoulders. “What’s the matter? Did you have a rough morning?”
“Sort of.”
“Are people still hounding you with questions?”
“A few. I handled them. I told them the police asked me not to say anything because doing so could hinder their investigation.”
“Good one. Tomorrow will be better. News doesn’t stay new for long. We’ll get through this tragedy.” Nannette patted her shoulder. “What’s this about a Nobel Peace Prize?”
Warmth flooded Emma’s cheeks. Luckily she hadn’t voiced more of her thoughts. Nanette would have a field day knowing she finally, actually agreed with her. “Nothing. Why are you here anyway? Weren’t you doing a shoot for your photography class this afternoon?”
Finally the cap gave way and Emma dumped two pills into her palm.
Nanette snagged a banana from the bunch lying on the counter. “Don’t change the subject. We’re focusing on you right now. You know what you need?”
They’d been roommates ever since Nan came to the Tri-Penn campus last fall. Nan had stayed in the U.S. during the summer sessions too. Emma knew what Nanette would say most of the time—before she said it. Even now, she knew what Nan thought, and grabbed a glass from the drying rack, flipped on the faucet and filled the glass. “No. Why don't you tell me what I need?”
“You seriously need to get away and have some fun.” Wiggling a brow, Nanette shook the banana at her.
Chase Hunter popped into her mind and Emma nearly choked on the pills and the gulp of water that found its way into her lungs.
Yeah, she had checked him out. And frankly with his tight jeans, it was hard not to notice what lay behind the worn material.
Tears blurred her vision while she gagged and fought for her breath.
“Are you all right?” Nanette patted her back.
“Yes.” Emma dodged being smacked again and cleared her throat. “I don’t have time to get away.” She did need a break, but she wasn’t going to concede that to Nanette.
“Seriously, how long has it been since you had some serious fun? Sweaty or the just plain relaxed kind. We could go away for a few days. Just the two of us.”
The glass pinged against the bottom of the sink.
“It’s been awhile. OK. But I don’t run away from my obligations.” She held up a finger. “My dilemma is my dissertation. Once it is done, I can relax. Until then, no fun.” She jutted her chin at the piece of fruit Nanette still held. “Now, eat the damn banana and stop playing dildo with it.”
Nanette looked at the banana and frowned, and then peeled it quickly. “And you don’t think you need to get away? Yeah, right.”
Emma wished she could be more of a free spirit, like Nanette. Nanette had her share of problems, but somehow she didn't let them bother her. Her roommate figured the universe would set itself right at some point and until then she went with the flow.
“You know I love you and that I’m worried about you.”
“I know. I love you too, but you don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine. Really. Just busier than usual.”
Nanette followed her into the living room and plopped down on the sofa, causing the cushions to deflate under her weight. Whoof! She grabbed a throw from the back of the sofa, and tucked it around her legs while Emma changed out her morning books for the ones she needed for her afternoon class.
“Are you going to tell me why you are here this time of day, and taking a shower?” Emma glanced toward the hallway. “Are we alone?”
Nan wrinkled her nose. “Yes, we’re alone.”
“Didn’t you take a shower this morning?”
“I did. After my morning classes I went to the stables and snapped some pictures of the horses. The foliage behind the stables was gorgeous. The way the late morning light cut through the swells in the mountains and settled on the forest really was breathtaking. Did you notice it Sunday on your—?” A blush colored Nanette’s tawny cheeks as her eyes lowered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“Don’t worry about it. So what happened today?”
Through Nanette’s further explicit description, Emma could almost picture the scene.
“Anyway, while I was there,” Nan continued, between mouthfuls of fruit, “I stumbled and landed in a pile of fresh manure. It wasn’t one of my best moments. I scared more crap out of the horses by cursing like my grandfather. Surprised me that they knew French. My jeans are soaking in the tub. I hope they don’t stain.”
“Our tub?” Muck wasn’t foreign matter to Nanette, who was raised on a farm, but a bucket would’ve been a better choice as a place to soak the jeans. “Yuck.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll scour the tub good before you come back tonight. I captured some really beautiful shots, so it was worth it. I know you’ll love t
hem.” Nanette’s coffee-colored eyes sparkled with the enthusiasm of a child as she drew her feet up underneath her. “There are two I’m really excited about. I think they might be of interest to the calendar company I’ve submitted to in the past. I could see them using the pictures for either a seasonal or equestrian calendar.”
Even without seeing the pictures, Emma knew they’d be awesome. Nanette had a great eye for capturing nature at its finest.
“So are you going to tell me the real reason for taking those aspirins?” Nanette captured Emma’s gaze with a hawk-like sharpness. She crumpled the banana peel into a napkin and tossed it on the coffee table before folding her arms across her chest. “I’m waiting.”
“I told you, I'm worried about my project. The damn trial didn’t yield the results I’d hoped, and if that doesn’t hold true, the foundation for my hypothesis is no good.”
“You worry about that every single day and don't take aspirins. Give it up, girlfriend.”
Sooner or later, Nanette would drag the truth out of her. She didn’t give up easily. The woman should be a super cop instead of a photographer. Emma exhaled. “I met this guy.”
Nanette shifted up on the couch. By the look on her roommate’s face, she hadn’t expected to hear those words. “Do tell. Where? When?”
“Just now. On my way back from class.” Thinking of the location, and Denise, she rubbed her hands up her arms, fending off the chill which seemed to surround her bones whenever she thought about or mentioned the woman’s name. “I was standing at the bridge and sort of staring into space, thinking about Denise when this guy came up behind me and started a conversation.”
“Is he cute?”
“Drop-dead gorgeous. Blond hair and blue eyes. Shoulders out to here.” She held her hands apart at least a yard, feeling a little breathless thinking about Chase. Describing him that way didn’t seem enough.
“Gorgeous and hunky, huh?” Nanette brushed her hands over the throw and snagged her ring on a thread. As she worked to free it, she said, “So details? Who is he? Did you talk long?”
“His name is Chase Hunter. He’s a late arrival. He walked with me for a bit.”
“What was wrong with him?”
“He seemed nice, but not real ambitious.”
“Not everyone has your drive, Emma. Some of us are laid back. It’s not a bad thing. We see the world a little differently, that’s all.”
Nanette was right. Emma had her reasons for pushing herself to the limits. She had a dream of becoming a research chemist, and her family had made it possible for her to accomplish her dream by putting everything they owned on the line.
Her friend, on the other hand, wanted to be an artist and live the artist’s life with very little material possessions. It was easy to live that way if your parents paid for everything with no expectation of being paid back.
“So are you going to see him again?” Nanette broke into Emma’s musings.
She recalled the pretty woman who had sauntered toward her and Chase. He called her Jolene. Emma shrugged. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I really don’t have time. You, more than anyone, know how important graduating in December means to me. And my family.”
“Oh, please. You have time to watch TV at night. You have time to eat. You go for a run every other day. You have time to find out if this guy is the one.”
Emma chuckled. “The one? How did we get that far?”
“This is the first time since I’ve known you that someone lit you up like the freakin’ Eiffel Tower at Christmas. You really like this guy. I can tell.”
“We only spoke for ten minutes. Fifteen tops.”
“Don’t pass by something you’ll regret later.” Nanette scooted off the couch, grapping the towel wrapped around her before it fell away and exposed her breasts. She rolled and tucked its edge under her arm. “Mark is having a party this Saturday night at his lake house. I’m invited. You’re coming with me. If you run into this guy again, invite him to join us. And, before you ask, Mark is not going to care. The more the merrier. I want to meet the man who lit up my Emma’s eyes.”
“I don’t—”
It was Nanette’s turn to stick a finger in Emma’s face. “If you don’t want to have a bitchy roommate for the duration of your stay on this campus, you will not fight me on this. You’re going. We’re going to have a good time. You and me.”
With that Nanette, snatched her trash from the coffee table and headed back into the bathroom, tossing the napkin into the garbage as she passed by the container.
“OK. I guess I’m going to a party,” Emma said, sliding her books from the desk top and heading to the door. “But I doubt I’ll see Chase Hunter again.”
Chapter Seven
Chase knew he could trust Knepper, the moment he faced him.
The wooden steps beneath Frank Knepper’s feet moaned painfully as they accepted his bulk. The man was tall. Though the guy was only two steps in front of him, Chase’s head was at eye level with the man’s ass.
He darted his gaze to Frank’s polished boots and shifted the shoulder strap of his bag. Chase reasoned that gripping the handrail tighter wouldn’t do a damn bit of good if the stairway gave way and they went free-falling onto the blacktop below. He prayed the screws securing the stairs together would hold.
Frank unlocked the apartment door. “Here we are.” He stepped back, allowing Chase to enter the studio apartment first.
“Thanks.”
It was a good thing the apartment had a bay window at its front, because, by standing in the doorway Knepper’s six-foot-six frame blocked most of the afternoon daylight from spilling into the apartment from that direction. In his black security uniform, with all the paraphernalia hanging from his belt, Frank would make any punk quake in his boots.
Chase already decided if he ever got into a brawl during this case, Knepper would be on his side.
Frank closed the door with a soft hand.
“My wife used it as her space before the accident. You know, doing crafty things like scrapbooking and sewing.”
The hitch in the guy’s throat told stories about the relationship he shared with his wife. Knepper’s hands were full, holding down a job filled with responsibility, handling two teenagers and a disabled wife, and now this shit had fallen in his backyard.
The room smelled of pine soap—not one of Chase’s favorite scents—but it meant the place was clean. He dropped his canvas bag on the carpet and surveyed the room. The furniture was sparse: a sofa, a club chair, coffee table and small entertainment center with a medium-sized flat screen television sitting on top. A small kitchenette hugged the back corner with a round, maple table at its center. “It’s fine by me. I won’t be spending a lot of time here. Shower and sleep, basically.”
“If you get any shuteye.”
“True enough.”
“Well, the sofa pulls out to a double bed,” Frank said, pointing toward the couch. “Sue used this as a guest room too, when her family came to visit. It’s pretty comfortable. Used it myself on occasions, when I was in the doghouse.” He chuckled, probably recalling the trivial fight that had caused him to sleep there. “Anyway, our daughter put fresh sheets on this morning, after the call from your father.” He air-fingered quotes around the last two words, then continued, “It’s good to go.”
His father. Chase chuckled inside. Will had made the arrangements. The story was, Will, posing as Chase’s filthy rich father, had been directed to Frank by the dean himself who owed a favor to an old college friend. No one—with the exception of Knepper, because he was an old Army buddy with Will’s boss, and the dean, and the state detectives—knew that C.U.F.F. had been called in and gone undercover. That included the local cops. The need-to-know club was exclusive.
“There’s also a few drinks in the fridge: water, Gatorade, soda.” As he spoke, Frank continued showing him around. “Help yourself. The bathroom is through that door. It’s small but
it’s got a decent throne.”
Chase chuckled. “Thanks for offering the room.”
“Not a problem. Mike Adams and I go way back. I’m sure you’d do the same for any of your buddies.”
Knepper’s gaze dropped to Chase’s left hand and Chase automatically slid it into his pocket.
“What branch were you?”
“Army. One hundred and first.”
“Pukin’ Buzzards. Good division. Ran into a few of your guys during my stint in the Gulf.” The muscles in Frank’s jaw twitched as he stared out the front window for a few seconds. He probably recalled a moment in the past before he reconnected with Chase. “I’m grateful for the help. I watch these kids grow up while they’re here. I have two of my own, heading to college soon. I don’t want to see any more of them die.”
Chase simply nodded, understanding where the guy was coming from.
Frank cleared his throat and moved toward the stairs. “The neighbors keep to themselves, pretty much, so I don’t think you’ll be bothered by them. This morning I told the lady next door I decided to rent the room to a student to help out with our finances. College isn’t cheap. The whole neighborhood probably knows about you by now, so they won’t question your coming and going.” He looked around, crossed his arms and then let them fall to his sides before taking a step back. “So, I’ll let you get moved in. I’ve got to get back to work. I put some cream and Coke in the fridge to get you started. Coffee perk is in the cupboard by the sink…”
“Before you go, can I ask you a question?”
Frank paused as he turned away. He rubbed his jaw. “Sure.”
“I don’t know how much you’ve been included in the investigation into the deaths of the three students.”
“I wasn’t until Denise was found on my turf. The state detectives took over immediately. I’ve been standing on the sidelines. On a need-to-know basis. You know what I’m saying?”
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