Page 13 of Dead and Buried

I nod. “Denver or Wichita?”

Zane stares at me. “Huh?”

I tilt my head and regretfully put my fork down. “He had two cannibal cases. One was in Denver and the other was in Wichita.”

Zane shrugs, pulling out his phone. “I dunno.” He typed away at his phone before setting it down.

Sandy laughs. “Viv totally stalks Dr. Price online.”

I gasp and throw my napkin at her. “I do not!”

Sandy raises a brow at me. “How old was he when joined the FBI?”

“Twenty. That’s a simple google search though. Everyone here probably knows that,” I defend.

“I didn’t and I live with the guy,” Zane says as his phone vibrates on the table. He’s too busy looking at it to see my wide eyes and open mouth. Sandy snaps her fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to my previous partial sanity. “He says Denver.”

“You live with a professor?” I ask quietly.

Zane nods. “The guys and I haven’t taken any of his classes, so it’s all perfectly ethical. Now, what else do you know about him?”

I shrug. “I doubt I know much more.”

Sandy chortles. I’m beginning to think she’s actually evil. Especially early in the morning when she would rather still be asleep. “Who was the first serial killer he caught?”

I sigh, “The Icepick Slayer.”

“Who was the last killer he caught?” Zane asked.

I glare at him. “That’s a trick question. It was the entire Samson family. Grandparents, parents, and children. They were kidnapping lone tourists and hunting them for sport on their hundred acres of wooded land.” I look back at Sandy to see she’s paying close attention to what I’m saying. “It’s also the reason he quit. The kids were given a plea deal to testify against the rest of their family, since they were only in their late teens. They got probation and only six months in July since there was no proof they actually killed anyone. They killed six people before they were caught again.”

“That’s horrible,” Sandy says.

I nod. “Yeah. Which is why I will never go into police work, federal or state,” I declare.

Both of them just stare at me. “Why are you majoring in criminology then?” Zane asks.

I shrug. “Because it interests me. I’m going to be working with my minor anyway. I’ll be a translator.”

“Oh, what language are you minoring in?” Sandy asks.

“ASL. I already know the other languages they teach here.” I lean back slightly at the shocked look on her face.

“You know Chinese, French, German, and Spanish?” Sandy just continues to gape at me.

“Japanese and Korean too. I’ve always wanted to learn Gaelic but my dad was against it.” I shrug my shoulders like it doesn’t still bother me. “Italians and Irish, forgetta bout it.” I use my best 1940 mobster impression, which is just me making fun of my father, if I’m honest.

“Want me to add it to the list?” Zane asks, picking up his phone.

“No. It’s not that big of a deal.” I shake my head.

He puts the phone back down and shrugs. “What are you doing after classes?”

“I signed up to tutor other students and I have my first session today,” I tell him.

Sandy leans forward on the table with her elbows. My Nonna would have whacked her in the back of the head for that. “You’re a freshman. How are you tutoring already?”

I smile. “I was already taking very advanced math and science classes back home. I passed the tests to tutor other students. Plus, it’ll look good on my resume.”

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