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“Thanks,” she managed. “It wasn’t him. He was singing.”

Paul laughed. “We both agree on that. You could hear it all over the house.”

“He had a big voice.”

“That he did,” Paul agreed.

“So, not Peterson,” Tibbet agreed, making a note on his own list. “What about the others?”

Torie went down the list.

“I’ve seen Deke Marshall since college. He came to the wedding, and the funeral. I think I saw him somewhere out, too, maybe when Pam and I went somewhere.”

Tibbet made a mark by Deke’s name.

“Of course, I see Tru everywhere.” She indicated Truman Delacorte’s name, a local businessman who was active in every Chamber of Commerce event. He was a pompous ass who seemed to believe he was in every way superior to the general populace. “I think his office is right across the street, isn’t it?”

Tibbet marked his name as well.

“Melvin has asked me out, as I told you. I was already dating Todd when he asked, though.” She frowned over the list. “He asked me out later, too, after Todd left, but like I said before, I wasn’t ready to date. Oh, and Blaine Zamkowski. I saw him at a party two years ago. He and I went to homecoming together freshman year, before either of us pledged anything. I saw him again recently, too, at a building I was working on.”

She found five other names of the twenty or so on Paul’s list. She didn’t feel like any of them were the type to hurt her or to be capable of murdering anyone, much less Todd.

“I just don’t see how it could be any of them.”

“I know it’s hard to fathom, but one of those men was responsible for what happened to you in college, and what’s happening now.”

“You’re sure they’re related?”

“I’m getting more sure by the day,” Tibbet said with conviction. “It’s one of the only things that makes sense.” He reviewed the list with her, and asked Paul more questions about his notes and what he remembered about each man.

“I didn’t know most of those guys,” he said, looking at his notes. “They were upperclassmen. Deke, Melvin, and Blaine were all in my class, but we didn’t hang out.”

“So you said. You were very careful when you were discussing Melvin with his father, Mister Jameson. You want to elaborate now that we’re in private?”

“Not really, no. Melvin’s all right. The only thing I don’t know is why he helped me get my job here, or helped Todd. He didn’t like us all that much. He said it was payback,” Paul remembered.

Tibbet sat up. “What does that mean?”

Paul grinned. “Nothing sinister. The only time we ever got along with Melvin or hung out together was when we were all studying for the bar. He might be a bit of a weasel, but he’s smart, damn smart. He’s…” Paul searched for the right word.

“Weaselboy,” Torie interjected, smiling. “Oh, my gosh, Todd used to call him Weaselboy.”

“Yeah, he did. We both did. But when it came to studying for that damn test, we were willing to take all the help we could get. Wea—Melvin was willing to take a part of the exam and break it down. We took other parts. Together we figured out the way to study for the damn thing. We probably should have sold the method; we would have made a killing. Instead, we just passed the damn thing.”

“All three of you?”

“Yep. Flying colors, for once.”

“I remember that,” Torie said. “I remember the two of you complaining about him, but saying he was okay.”

“Yeah, well, he says we helped him pass, which made him look good to the old man. He says that’s why he put us up for consideration. He told us we’d have to get the job on our own, he’d only get us in the door.”

“What about this Blaine guy?” Tibbet asked.

“Blaine’s a good old boy. He talks a great game, backs it up with hard work, and has a family,” Paul said.

“Sorry, that doesn’t rule him out these days,” Tibbet said, seeming genuinely disappointed. “It would be easier if it did.”

“No, guess not. Now Deke,” Paul said, pointing to the last name on the short list. “He’s kind of a social misfit, but he’s popular anyway. He could say the stupidest things,” Paul reminisced.

“Yes, he could,” Torie added, but she said, “He also couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He was like a bullhorn. If you wanted campus to know it, tell Deke. If not, be sure Deke never found out.”

“I know that kind.”

“So, that’s it. Those are the ones I know or knew, and pretty much what’s going on with them now,” Paul said as they finished going through the list.

“That gives me a place to start. Thanks.” He stood, and Paul did as well. Tibbet ignored him and put a hand out to Torie. “Thank you, Ms. Hagen. I think we’ve made progress. I hope we can catch this guy soon with the help you’ve given me today.”

“You’re welcome,” she said. “And no one hopes you catch him more than me.”

Tibbet said, “Yeah, I’m sure,” then took his leave.

Paul returned to the table and sat next to Torie.

“So, how are you feeling? Do you hate me more than you ever have?”

“I’ve never hated you, Paul,” Torie said for what felt like the millionth time.

“No? That’s good to hear.”

“I’ve said it before.”

“Maybe I wasn’t ready to hear it then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She looked at him now, instead of the tissue she was folding and refolding in her lap.

“It’s a long story. How about I tell you over dinner?”

“I’m not really hungry.”

He was instantly concerned. “I know. This was rough. I shouldn’t have asked.”

She smiled. “It’s okay. I did love the flowers, you know. And I’ll save you a dance.”

“Rain check on dinner?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He leaned back in the chair. “Why don’t I take you back to the hotel and buy you a drink. Just a drink,” he teased. “Then you can go on up to the room, order room service, and get some rest.”

“If you come over to the hotel and have a drink, do you really think I’ll order room service?”

He didn’t know if it was an invitation or an honest question, but his libido decided it was an invite. “Oh, better not ask me that one,” he growled at her.

To his delight, she laughed. “What I meant was,” she corrected, still smiling, “I would feel like I had to go to dinner. I…have a lot to do.” He didn’t think work was what she needed, or was even talking about, but he let it drop.

“Well, why don’t I drive you over there and you can tell me about it.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’s wise.” She stood up, straightening her blouse and picking up her purse.

“Do you really want to be wise?” he said, moving toward her. When she didn’t protest, he eased in, slid his arms around her. She felt so good, right there, next to him.

He heard her purse land on the table, and her arms encircled him as well. It was as if they dove into one another, pressing together, letting their bodies speak what they couldn’t yet say.

Tongues tangling in heated battle, they kissed and murmured endearments to one another, things that were hardly intelligible, but deeply heard.

“Torie,” he groaned, wanting to take her right there on the table. “You have to let me, I need to.” He couldn’t form the words, could barely form the thoughts behind them.

“Not here,” she moaned. “The door…”

The thought of someone coming in, finding them wound around each other, clothes askew, was like cold water on a hot day. Paul half-laughed, half-moaned. “You’re right. You’re right,” he mumbled, still kissing her. “We have to stop. Soon.”

“Now,” she said, breathlessly. “We have to stop now.”

He pulled back, the barest fraction. “Lord, woman,” he panted, resting his brow on hers. “You wind me up.”

“Mutual,” she said, taking a deep breath. He was able, from his vantage point looking down, to see the lovely deep V of her breasts as they rose and fell. As if he weren’t hard enough, his overworked libido screamed more loudly for release.