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  Zach leaned back and stretched in his seat, drawing the shirt even tighter than before and emphasized every well-defined muscle cloaked behind the soft cotton. Rory choked on her soda.

  “You ok?” Christian held out a napkin as Rory slammed her drink onto the table.

  “Yeah.” She caught her breath, glad the distraction gave her a minute to focus.

  Zach took a bite of his Philly cheese steak sandwich and chewed. “So, what do you have for us?”

  Rory wiped her lips with a napkin. “Not much so far.” She unlocked her phone and scrolled through to her notes. “I’ve moved in. My roommate’s definitely the dorm’s social chair.” Rory hadn’t been asleep before two A.M. yet this week. They might have been required to be in the dorm by midnight, but nothing stopped the parties from continuing in the hallways and rooms. “Allie mentioned a party next weekend. I’m going to try to get an invitation. And then there’s rush. That starts in two weeks.”

  “That’s it?” Zach didn’t try to hide his impatience. “You’ve been on the case for almost a week. I thought you were supposed to be good at this.”

  “I am.” Rory placed her sandwich down in front of her and leaned across the table. Lowering her voice, she didn’t mince words. “I seem to remember that I’m here because you haven’t solved the case in two years. How many kids are dead?” She narrowed her eyes and waited for him to flinch. He didn’t. Damn, he was just as cocky as he seemed when they first met. So why did she find him drop dead sexy? Rory shook her head to clear it. “I’ve been on this case for exactly one week. I’ve been in the dorm for three nights. It takes time to build confidence. It’s not like I can walk down the halls asking for someone to hook me up with their supplier.” Rory sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest – taunting him as she waited for an answer.

  His lips curled in amusement at her outburst. He thought she was funny?

  Rory bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from saying something she’d regret later. Christian silently chewed as he watched the unspoken exchange between the pair. “Listen. I’m not exactly sure how your boss explained this to you, but I don’t work for you. You’re my backup on my case. This is the task force’s case now – my case.” She deliberately repeated her words for emphasis since she’d discovered the broody ones tended to be a little slow. “I’m in charge. I’ll let you know when I need you. I thought we should get to know each other a little better since we’re going to be working together for a while. Obviously, I was wrong.” No longer hungry, she grabbed hold of her trash and abruptly stood. “I’ll be in touch.”

  • • •

  Rory hefted her backpack on her shoulder and descended the weathered brick steps just as the carillon bells sounded 8:45. Her first class was at 9. Applications of Shakespeare for the Contemporary Stage – she’d definitely need to fully caffeinate before crossing the threshold to that class. The Thompson Theater Arts Center was the fifth building along the sidewalk to the right. At a fast pace, she’d make it in less than five minutes. She hesitated on the bottom step and two girls who lived on her floor immediately plowed into her back.

  “Watch it!” A tall, thin girl who appeared to have just stepped out of Vogue glared at Rory with disdain. Hallie.

  “Sorry.” Rory flinched and pulled out her map to the college. “Still trying to figure out where I’m going.”

  Hallie’s sidekick, Claire, rolled her colored-contact-enhanced blue eyes. “Maybe next time you should take the tour.”

  “I’ll remember that.” Rory spoke through gritted teeth. This was her least favorite part of going undercover on a school campus. Catching the bad guys – piece of cake. Navigating the shark-infested waters of the social kiddie pool – not so much. The two young women continued down the stairs in unison – twittering away about the upcoming rush season. “Thanks for all the help.” She whispered under her breath.

  Rory hopped off the bottom step and turned to the left. She knew she shouldn’t risk it, but on the first day of classes, no one would give a second thought to a transfer student who got lost and wandered into the wrong building – especially not the one located on the exact opposite side of the plaza. Clusters of students walked en masse down the brick sidewalks, eagerly recounting their summer activities while walking to class.

  No one noticed Rory, and that was fine with her. She ducked under a low-hanging branch of one of the centuries-old oak trees planted in honor of the university’s founders. The winding slate sidewalk peeled off away from the main walkway, and she waited for a group of young men to pass before she stepped onto the first stone on the pathway leading up to the library. The sidewalk seemed much longer when she was seven. Before she had time to second-guess herself, she was standing at the threshold of the library entrance. She reached for the gleaming brass handle on the door and took a breath. Last chance. Anita wouldn’t be pleased to hear this was the first stop on her campus tour … but her superior officer wasn’t here.

  The heavy oak door opened soundlessly. Rory took a step inside. Cool and dark, she was immediately surrounded by the familiar smell of aging marble and the comforting scent of old books. Turning in a slow circle, she let the memories wash over her. Everything was still the same. Dark mahogany paneling lined the walls. The only light coming into the room filtered through the dozen stained glass windows. An illuminated painting on the north wall caught her eye, and she approached it slowly. Rory’s surprised gasp echoed in the empty, cavernous room.

  In Loving Tribute to Lillian Maria O’Donovan.

  Devoted Teacher, Treasured Friend.

  The woman sat on a stool with a half-dozen young children clustered around her. She smiled lovingly down at the elementary school students, her vivid green eyes gleaming in amusement at something one of the young boys must have just said. Rory rested her fingertips over her lips as she battled for control of her emotions. This wasn’t the woman who became swept up in her husband’s thirst for power. She definitely wasn’t the woman who’d sent her twin daughters to a boarding school in another continent to get them out from underfoot.

  This was the mother she remembered.

  “Can I help you?” A woman’s voice whispered softly just a few feet behind Rory.

  Rory’s heart thudded in her chest. She quickly slipped back into her now-familiar façade. Gripping hold of the map, she feigned a look of confusion. “This isn’t the Thompson building, is it?”

  The older woman chuckled mostly to herself as she reached for the map. “You’re new here, aren’t you?” She turned the map upright. “Helps if you aren’t holding your map upside down.” She pulled a pen down from where it rested behind her ear and circled the drama building in red ink.

  “This is where you are.” She pointed to the Dillon Library for Children’s Literature. “But this is where you want to be.” The woman’s bun bounced as she nodded to herself. “Just go straight across The Green, and you’ll be there lickety split.”

  “Thank you … ”

  “Pearl Miller.” She patted Rory’s shoulder.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Miller.” Rory corrected herself and hurried out the door. She tugged her phone from her pocket – 8:56. No way she was going to be on time, but it was worth it.

  • • •

  “Well, so glad you could join us.” Dr. Maxwell paused in the middle of his welcome lecture and picked up his tablet computer. Running his finger down the screen, he turned his attention back to Rory. “Rory Johnston, I assume?”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She slid into the only available seat in the packed lecture hall, very aware that every single pair of eyes in the room was focused on her.

  “We’re a close-knit group around here. Not too hard to pick out someone new.” The professor circled the desk located in the center of the raised section of floor at the front of the room. He leaned casually against the desk a
nd crossed his feet at the ankles. His dark eyes fixed on her like a bird of prey searching for its next meal. “So, since you’ve already interrupted us, let’s take a minute to get to know you. How does that sound?”

  So he was going to be one of those professors. Since the theater department here was small, he was scheduled to teach four of her six classes. Seriously, could her morning get any better? His black moustache twitched as he awaited her answer. “That’s fine.”

  “You’re in a senior-level theater class, Rory. Project.”

  “Yes, sir. That’s fine with me.” She stood and took a well-practiced stance. “Exactly what would you like to know?”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Philadelphia College.”

  “Right.” He nodded to himself. All he needed was a pipe and he could be introducing Masterpiece Theater. “I remember that from your file. I have to approve all the transfers for senior-level students, you know.” Rory didn’t know, but that was a helpful piece of information to have. “You had a 4.0 GPA, member of the University Players. Dr. Green wrote a glowing letter of recommendation.”

  Rory nodded in agreement. She still owed Dr. Green a Starbuck’s gift card. During the six months she was working to find all the players involved in the distribution of crack at a local amusement park, she’d completed an entire semester at P.C. She’d honestly hated to leave his theater program.

  “So, why’d you leave?”

  Rory had the strong suspicion that this in-depth introduction was a way of paying her back for being late to class. “One of the benefactors stopped making donations to the theater department because she didn’t agree with the content of one of the shows. I lost my scholarship.”

  Dr. Maxwell scratched his lower lip as he looked at her thoughtfully. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He picked up his tablet and walked back to his place behind the lectern. “We’re happy to have you here.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad to be here.” She took her seat and sighed in relief now that the inquisition was complete.

  Chapter Four

  “You’re seriously going to study on a Saturday night?” Allie turned away from the mirror, long golden earrings dangling from her fingertips.

  Rory looked up from her spot on the center of the bed. On her left sat her British Literature textbook and syllabus. On her right, she’d placed her physics materials. She knew from experience that there was no quicker way to get a sympathy invitation to a party than to look like she was planning on spending the evening studying. “I have homework.”

  “Not on the first official weekend of the school year.” Allie hooked the earring in her ear and adjusted her blonde curls to make sure the earrings were prominently displayed. “You can’t be that behind yet. Come on.”

  “I don’t know anybody.” Rory protested as she turned on her laptop. It whirred noisily and Allie stared at her in disbelief.

  “Exactly why you should come.” Allie took hold of Rory’s hand and hoisted her off the bed. Once her roommate was standing in front of her, she gave Rory’s attire an appraising look. “But you’re going to have to change first. Yoga pants and a hoodie aren’t going to cut it. Do you have anything in your closet that doesn’t scream I’m a hipster?” Allie strode across their dorm room and opened Rory’s closet. Pawing through the clothes, she stood back and studied her options. Pulling out a sleeveless blouse and red denim capris, she tossed them on the bed and then glanced in Rory’s direction. “Oh, and make sure you wear a swim suit.”

  “Swim suit?”

  “It’s hot.” She dug through her top dresser drawer and pulled out a red and black string bikini. “In more ways than one.” She flashed a suggestive grin.

  “I think I’ll pass.”

  “Come on, the guys love it. It’s better than a wet t-shirt contest.”

  “I’m sure you’d know.” Rory muttered under her breath as she pushed past her roommate and reached into her closet – every time, she was surprised at how large the walk-in closets were. Out of all the college dorms she’d lived in over the past five years, she’d never experienced a closet like this one. Her last dorm room could almost have fit inside this one. “I can dress myself.” School clothes, all black outfits for night she worked tech and … work clothes. Removing a black leather mini-skirt and leopard-print blouse, she held the combination up for Allie’s inspection.

  One eyebrow raised in exaggerated surprise. “Impressive.” She toyed with her hair as she gathered it onto her shoulder. “But can you pull it off?”

  “Trust me.”

  • • •

  One hour and three outfit changes from Allie later, the roommates hopped into Allie’s mint-green Volkswagen Beetle. The outline of Allie’s crimson bikini was clearly visible beneath her sheer, white sleeveless blouse, but Rory sensed that was intentional.

  “You’re going to wish you wore yours.” Allie seemed to sense Rory studying the tie behind her neck.

  “I doubt it.” Rory shook her head vigorously as her side ponytail bounced and added emphasis to her words. Allie sniffed in annoyance, making her opinion clear to both of them. She stretched and used the rearview mirror for one last check of her burgundy lipstick. Rory tossed her clutch on the floorboard and slammed the passenger door behind her. “Exactly where are we going?”

  “The Old Mill.”

  Fastening her seatbelt she thought for a minute. That sounded familiar. “The one by the lake?”

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Isn’t that the one where they found — ”

  “Cadie?” Allie interrupted Rory. “How’d you know about her?”

  “Saw something about it in the newspaper while I was waiting to register in July.” She shrugged. “I guess it just stuck with me.”

  “Cadie loved the Mill.” Allie blinked as she blasted backward out of the parking space, narrowly avoiding running over two freshmen skateboarding between the cars. She leaned out the window. “That’s why it says no skateboarding!” she yelled and pointed at the warning sign, receiving a rude hand gesture in return. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Cadie hit a dude last year.”

  “Was he okay?” Rory didn’t give a hint that she’d already heard the story. Cadie had been drunk behind the wheel – twice the legal limit when she plowed into a group of skateboarders weaving through the women’s dormitory parking lot. Despite the fact that she’d tested twice the legal limit, she got off being charged with a misdemeanor – six weeks later, she was dead from a drug overdose.

  “Put him in a wheelchair. She was a nervous wreck after she hit him. Refused to drive. Couldn’t sleep.” Allie drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel in time with Taylor Swift’s latest tribute to her ex-boyfriend. “Do you want something to eat?”

  “Can’t we eat at the party?”

  Allie shot an evil grin. “Girl, this is not that kind of party.” She jerked the wheel and the tires squealed into the driveway of Bubba’s Burger Barn. Cutting off a bright red Mustang, she zipped into the drive-thru lane. “Two cheeseburgers and two chocolate milkshakes.” She turned to Rory. “Unless you’d rather have vanilla?”

  “I was kind of thinking just a Coke.”

  “No, the dairy will help with the alcohol later.”

  “Two cheeseburgers and two chocolate shakes?” The voice came from the screen in the mouth of the oversized plastic bear head.

  “That’s right.”

  “That’ll be $5.11. Please pull forward.”

  Allie laughed as she smiled in Rory’s direction. “You didn’t know that greasy stuff helps you drink more?” She waited for Rory to shake her head. “You are so lucky you’re my roommate. With my help, you’re going to have a senior year you’re not going to forget.” She inched forward and took the white paper bag and two oversized cups from an older woman wearing a hair net.
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  “Party time, Allie?”

  “Definitely Mrs. Perez.” Allie handed the woman a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

  “Thanks, dear.”

  Allie rolled her eyes and pulled forward. “She used to be my Sunday school teacher. Her husband died and she had to go back to work.” Looking into the bag, she frowned and muttered to herself. “They forgot the straws.” She hastily parked the car. “I’ll be right back.” Slamming the door behind her, she jogged through the parking lot.

  Rory reached down and dug her phone out of her purse. Knowing she had little time, she keyed in a message. “Going to party at Old Mill. Much alcohol. Bust the party when I tell you to come. Make sure I’m arrested. – R.”

  • • •

  The screen on Christian’s cell phone went dark after he read Rory’s text aloud.

  “She wants us to do what?”

  “Bust the party.” Christian repeated with a groan.

  Zach swung the arm of the netbook holder away from Christian and began to key in the instructions to the rest of their team. Calling everyone in on a Saturday night when Texas was playing A&M — the men were going to love him. Rory had better really know what she was doing. Since she was at a party, Zach and Christian already needed to stay close just in case she got in over her head. Their plans were already cancelled. The other members of the narcotics team weren’t likely to be so understanding. Zach learned early on in his career in Peytonville that as long as no one was attempting to drive drunk that the police force was expected to look the other way when M U students decided to throw a little party. Zach scratched his head as the steady steam of traffic turned down the dirt road. And the back to school bash at the Old Mill was no little gathering. “Does she understand how many people we’ll need to have working tonight?”