A Profiler's Case for Seduction - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,32

speeding and other minor infractions. Troy has made no secret of the fact that he hated Burris. He’d even threatened to kill the sheriff more than once when being arrested.”

“Does he have ties to the other two victims?”

Mark looked at her with new admiration. “Ah, your criminal-justice classes are showing. He’s only a viable suspect if we can tie him to all three victims and so far we haven’t found the connection to the other two, but we’ve only just starting looking at him. Tomorrow afternoon a couple of us are going to talk to him and see if he has a solid alibi for the time of the murders.” He added a teaspoon of sugar to his coffee and then took a sip.

“And the kidnapping? Has there been any progress on that case?”

Mark wanted to tell her that he didn’t believe a kidnapping had taken place. That somehow, someway, despite the appearance of Troy Young, in spite of his teammates’ views, he believed the beautiful professor was at the center of this whole storm.

“Nothing new. She seems to be a fairly isolated person, other than her two assistants. Nobody seems to know her very well.”

Dora cast her gaze toward the wall just over his head, a tiny frown dancing in the center of her forehead. “Her assistants probably know her better than anyone, but I know just before her kidnapping she was kind of seeing Andrew Peterson from the history department.”

Mark sat up straighter. This was new information. “None of us has managed to find that out.”

“I imagine that’s because Melinda and Andrew didn’t want anyone to know. Andrew is married and he and his wife have three small children.”

“How do you know about this?” he asked. As always, the thought of a new lead to follow shot adrenaline through his body. He’d always assumed that if Melinda was responsible for the murders, then she’d had a male partner...the man who had appeared in the videos to beat her.

It was a devious scheme and he knew few women who had the guts to allow themselves to be slapped across the face, who would abide somebody breaking their arm just to prove an alibi.

“I accidently stumbled on them one night,” Dora said, bringing him back to the here and now. “I’d kept the bookstore open a little later than usual. They were standing beneath a tree and I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but they embraced and kissed long and hard before they parted ways.”

“Did either of them see you?” he asked.

She hesitated and then shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure.”

“Andrew Peterson? And he’s in the history department?” Mark repeated.

Dora nodded, her frown deepening. “It might have been nothing, but if it is something you pursue, I hope you’ll be discreet. I’d hate to see Andrew’s marriage destroyed, because I’m certain Melinda isn’t looking for any kind of a long-term relationship, at least that would be my impression of her,” she quickly added.

“We’ll try to be as discreet as possible, but we are investigating a crime,” he reminded her.

For the next few minutes, they talked about what each had done that day. When they finished their coffees, Mark knew it was time to leave. They both had early mornings the next day and it was after eleven. He grabbed his holster and fastened it back on, then pulled his lightweight jacket on, effectively hiding the weapon.

As she walked with him back through the living room he wondered what her bedroom would look like. He had a feeling it would be a romantic room, with a flowered spread and fragrant candles, the scent of her in every corner.

When they reached her front door he turned to tell her good-night, but instead reached for her, wanting to feel her in his arms one last time before heading back to the motel and his lonely bed.

He thought she might protest, but she came willingly into his embrace, leaning her head into the crook of his neck and once again reminding him of how well they physically fit together.

Desire flared inside him, hot and eager as he’d never felt before. It drove every thought out of his head, something that never happened. He was focused completely on Dora, on the warmth of her curves against him, on her soft breaths that heated the side of his neck.

She stood close enough to him to know that he was aroused, and as she raised her