A Profiler's Case for Seduction - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,19

protested, and eyed her glass of wine with longing. “If word got out that I was seeing someone it would undermine me and my power to lead.”

“Speaking of leads, do they have any where your case is concerned?”

“Nothing.” Melinda reached for her wineglass and took a sip and then continued. “I’d say they have their hands full with the murders. I’m assuming you’ve heard all about them. My kidnapping seems to be on their back burner.”

“They’ll figure it out. Eventually they’ll get the guilty party behind bars in both cases,” Micah replied.

“I don’t know. It’s been almost a month and neither the FBI nor the local law enforcement seems even to have a person of interest in either of the cases.”

“How’s Dora doing?” he asked, obviously ready to change the subject.

“She is being a good little soldier,” Melinda said. “She was on the dean’s list last semester and I’m expecting the same kind of accomplishment from her this year. She never misses a class, works in the bookstore and then goes straight home.”

“That’s good to hear. It won’t be long and she’ll have her degree and will begin building a real life for herself, far away from her roots.”

“That’s what we both want,” Melinda replied. She was already sorry she called, bored with the conversation and ready to drink her wine and wallow in her own personal successes. “I just wanted to give you a quick check-in. How are things in Perfect?”

“Definitely un-Perfect, but we’re working on it.”

“Good luck,” she said, and then they murmured goodbyes and she clicked off. Tossing the cell onto the sofa cushion next to her, Melinda once again reached for the wine goblet and made a silent toast to herself, commending her decision to leave her home, to never look back when she’d turned eighteen years old.

She wasn’t about to allow an alcoholic tramp of a mother, or an abusive father or a mealymouthed younger sister, who was following in their mother’s footsteps, to stop her from achieving the recognition and admiration she not only deserved but demanded.

She’d done it all on her own, with no help from anyone. She hadn’t had an older sister or brother to pull her up from her coattails and set her on the road to success. She’d carved her own path.

“Here’s to me,” she whispered out loud, “the smartest member of my dysfunctional family and the smartest person on this entire campus.” She drained her glass and leaned back against the sofa, a smug smile playing on her lush lips.

Chapter 4

She hadn’t been able to cancel the meal. Dora hadn’t seen Mark all week to get the opportunity to tell him that dinner out together wasn’t a good idea.

To make matters worse, she’d arrived at Manetti’s fifteen minutes early, like a pathetic loser who was afraid she might be stood up or who feared that if she was a single minute late he wouldn’t wait for her.

She sat in her car parked across from the popular restaurant and watched for Mark to arrive. Maybe he’d forgotten about tonight. He was a busy man with lots of things on his mind. The invitation had been three whole days ago. She imagined in Mark’s world three days could hold a lifetime of thoughts and actions, things that could drive a simple dinner invitation straight out of his mind.

Dora’s life was far less complicated and the idea of dinner with Mark had filled her head for most of the past three days. She flipped down the rearview mirror and checked to make sure she didn’t have lipstick on her teeth or hadn’t gone too heavy with the mascara wand.

It was ridiculous, the way she felt...the fluttering in her stomach, the sparking nerves in her veins. She wasn’t a young girl just beginning to experience the blossom of hormones; rather she was a forty-year-old woman on the verge of kissing her hormones goodbye.

She had many regrets from her past, but the deepest regret she’d have for the rest of her life was that she’d had no children. It had been a selfless decision she’d made because she’d known that the last thing she wanted was to bring an innocent child into the mess of her life.

In another year or two when she finally had her life perfect for bringing in a child, she’d be too old to parent, probably too old physically to have a baby the natural way. She’d long ago made peace with the fact that there would be no children