Page 14 of The Killer She Knew

Salt spread across her tongue as he explored slowly, with patience and all the time in the world. Dean had mastered his self-control, but she needed more. More of him. Her senses ratcheted higher the closer she pressed against him. His hint of facial hair tickled across her jaw, those near-black eyes locking solely on her. For now, she was the center of his entire world, and she wasn’t sure there was anywhere else she wanted to be.

“Leigh.” Her name vibrated through his chest and into hers, a deep rumble that woke up nerve endings she didn’t even knowexisted. Not a rejection. No hesitation. “Do you want to have sex?”

The self-consciousness attacked in full force. But on its tail a blast of heat and adrenaline carved through her veins at the common decency of asking for her consent. Had anyone ever asked what she’d wanted before? Had anyone even bothered to put her desire ahead of their own? She couldn’t remember. Those guys she’d kissed in high school—boys—had turned scoring into a game. One she wasn’t too fond of playing again. She and all the other girls in her class had been nothing but pawns. Objects to use and discard on a whim. She’d been happy to play by the rules then, but Dean…

He wasn’t one of them. He’d never made the first move. Never pressured her to give in. He made her laugh with self-deprecating jokes and insisted on holding her hand when they ventured out of the dorms. He didn’t mind having ramen for lunch any time they got together because that was what she could afford, or that there were times she had to choose studying over spending what little free time she had with him.

He was so different from the guys she’d kissed before. He was more. And she wanted more. In the end, he couldn’t use her. This was her choice. “I’ve never…”

“I know.” Dean gripped her hips then, setting her back on her feet. He shoved off the couch against the wall of his dorm room and offered his hand. Giving her the option to walk away. “I promise to take good care of you, little rabbit. Always.”

Durham, New Hampshire

Wednesday, October 9

2:32 p.m.

How did you spot someone who went out of their way to become someone else?

Leigh’s elbows dug into the tops of her knees as she made quick investigation notes on her phone from one of the few available benches in Thompson Hall’s lobby. Everything Alice Dietz’s roommates had told her. The names and ranks of the officers searching campus for an idea of how their killer had stayed out of sight. The potential of having their unsub here on campus, as trapped as they were. She wasn’t going to miss a single detail. Couldn’t afford to.

Students clustered in packs to ride out the storm. Low conversations—even a few hints of laughter—had replaced the dregs of panic. It was easy to identify the cliques. Administration and staff in one corner, fraternities and sororities mixing in another. Older students, those coming back to school after a career change and families, kept to themselves while a few athletes floated from one group to another. Then there were the investigators. Forced to ride out the rain and wind.

“My battery’s at six percent.” Ava put her phone to sleep as she leaned against the wall at their backs and slumped as far as her spine would allow. Long dark hair bunched up around an impossibly adult face that reminded Leigh all too much of her former best friend. Clear brown eyes—the color of brandy—rolled toward the ceiling in a very Ava manner. Same full lips as her mother’s. Same impatience, too. But this was where the similarities ended.

Ava had become more passive in their interactions since the adoption, more insecure in herself. Where Leigh had admired and respected the girl who’d lost her mother to murder charges and father to suicide a little more than two weeks ago—a position Leigh had more than enough experience in herself—Ava resembled a ghost. Entirely unreachable.

Something had happened back in Gulf Shores. Something Leigh had suspected for a while now. More than the sexual assault Ava had experienced at the hands of a man more than twice her age. More than losing her parents so close together or moving to an entirely new state with a woman she barely knew, but Leigh couldn’t summon the courage to put what little relationship they had at risk. Evidence told a story, and right now, it said Ava had been there when her mother had murdered the man who’d assaulted her. Leigh just didn’t know in what capacity.

“Doesn’t anyone have a battery pack I can use?” Ava searched the corridors for someone—anyone—who might be able to help. “I thought police officers were supposed to be prepared for this kind of thing.”

“First aid kits, latex gloves, batons, and tasers aren’t going to help charge your phone.” She watched as Ford played liaison, checking in with each department—campus police, administration, Durham PD—to keep communication lines open. He was handing out water bottles and packages of… fruit snacks? “I’m sorry to say that is not their first priority. We’re going to have to be patient.”

“I’m bored. There’s no Wi-Fi.” Ah, yes. Hungry Ava had arrived.

Leigh would have to find out where Ford was getting his stash of fruit snacks. Holloway Commons—the university’s largest dining hall—was two buildings to the south of them and most likely inaccessible in the middle of a hurricane. A restlessness filtered through the small crowd of students and university staff and bored through her. Fruit snacks weren’t going to cut it if this storm kept them isolated longer than a few more hours. “We could talk about where you’ve been going when you run away from home.”

If looks could kill. The burn of Ava’s gaze could raise the temperature of the room given enough time. “It’s not home. And it’s none of your business.”

“Egg salad?” A cellophane-wrapped sandwich cut down the middle penetrated her ring of vision, and Leigh looked up at the sound of the familiar voice.

“Professor Morrow.” She forced a weak smile as she stood to greet her former mentor. She offered her hand as the past rushed to fill in the gap of years since she’d seen him last in person. How long had it been? Sixteen, seventeen years? He smelled the same. Books and spice. His signature scent shoved her back into hours of reading and proofreading journal articles, pulling crime statistics, and bouncing ideas between the two of them in his office. There’d been a time in her studies when she’d looked forward to going back to her dorm with that scent on her clothes. The mark of hours dedicated to her craft had made her a better criminologist. “It’s good to see you.”

“Come now, Leigh. We dropped the formalities when you became a peer.” Pierce Morrow exuded the professor aesthetic. It hadn’t changed in all these years. He moved her to arm’s length to get a better look at her, his sandwich still clutched in one hand. Straight white teeth smoothed over his English heritage, but there were still hints of an accent in a few stressed words. A wash of calm followed the head of the criminal justice department wherever he went, but she’d built up a tolerance over the past few years. “I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when you showed up in the president’s office this morning. You’ve made quite a name for yourself. I’ll let you in on a little secret. I called in a few favors I have over at the FBI so I could get my hands on the case files you worked, and I have to say I couldn’t be prouder. My star student.”

The heat of embarrassment prickled at her skin. There’d been plenty of other students who’d earned the professor’sattention in their program, but she’d been born with a knack for patterns and human behavior beyond a textbook education. Which he’d venomously taken advantage of multiple times over the course of her career. Emails, video calls, voicemail. The barrage of consultation requests had steadily increased in tandem with the decrease of his incoming opportunities. “You always believed I had what it took to solve my brother’s case.”

“And look at you now. Working for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, under Angelina Livingstone, no less. My protégée.” Morrow slid his free hand into his slacks pocket, trying to achieve a casual stance he wasn’t quite sure how to execute. “I know you’re here on a case, but I’d love it if you could commit some time to talk to the program seniors when this messy business is all wrapped up.”

All wrapped up. Because catching a killer should take no more than a few hours and certainly wasn’t more important than answering questions from the current cohort of criminal justice majors. She couldn’t ignore the hint of resentment in his request. For his protégée to put aside time for him. To give him some of the spotlight. The chasm of differences between her and her former mentor had long lost their influence until this moment. The reality was she’d taken his lessons and research skills and ability to identify with killers and gone out in the world to apply them. Morrow had the uncanny ability to know what any given person deeply desired despite personal histories, choices, routines, and relationships and had once in his career had too many job offers to count. Particularly in sales and marketing. But he’d fallen and gotten stuck in an endless cycle of trying to publish his research and teaching. His way of making a lasting impression on the world. To feed the egotistical gremlin under his pretty mask. “Actually, I’m afraid my daughter and I’ll be heading back to Quantico as soon as the case is concluded.”

“I’m not your daughter.” Ava was back on her phone, her face bunched in opposition.

“The state says otherwise,” Leigh said over her shoulder. “Perhaps we can schedule something when I’m between cases, and I can prepare a bit more.”

“Of course. Perhaps until then I might be able to assist you during your current investigation.” A light flickered behind his eyes. Morrow crossed his arms over his chest as he shifted his weight between both feet. Couldn’t look too eager at the prospect to have his name attached to this case. “Anything you and the FBI need. I’m at your disposal.”

Of course he was. “Did you know the victim, Alice Dietz? She’s a psychology major, but according to her transcripts, she’s taken two of your criminal justice classes in the last two semesters.”

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