A Profiler's Case for Seduction - By Carla Cassidy Page 0,45
horrible dream he’d had about the murders and her and some unknown male.
Still, that didn’t explain why anyone would be after Dora. No matter how he moved the pieces around, he still couldn’t fit everything into a completed puzzle or find an adequate profile of the perp in his head.
Richard parked along the street a block from the campus. There was definitely a crispness to the air this morning, the familiar scents of fall in the air.
Mark remembered Dora telling him she loved autumn, and like Dallas, Vengeance would enjoy a pleasant fall that would last long into the months where other states were seeing snowfall.
Of course, Mark wouldn’t be here when winter officially began in Vengeance. He’d be on another case, back working out of the Dallas field office and coming and going to the small apartment that had never really felt like home. The house he’d shared with Sarah had also never felt like home. It had always felt like Sarah’s home and then later Sarah and Grace’s home, but never his own.
Funny, he’d only been inside Dora’s house a couple of times, but there had been warmth and welcome there, a sense of home that he’d never felt before.
As he and Richard headed toward the building that housed the history department, he shoved thoughts of home and Dora away. He hadn’t even called her to check in on her this morning, knowing that she would have survived the night safely with Joseph on duty. Mark was a fool to think about her as the place where he belonged, as the home he’d never had.
It was time to solve this case and get out of Vengeance, leave Dora behind. It was time to gain some distance from her for his own sanity’s sake.
She’d made it clear on several occasions that there was nothing there for him but friendship, that the last thing she wanted in her life right now was the complication of a relationship.
“You’re unusually quiet this morning,” Richard said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“I’m just ready to get this case solved and get back to Dallas,” Mark replied.
Richard raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought maybe you’d want this case to go on for a long time due to a certain bookstore lady.”
Mark gave him a pained smile. “She’s not ready for a man in her life and we both know that I don’t do relationships very well.”
“Mark, you didn’t fail at your marriage,” Richard said as they paused outside the history building. “You married a woman who never understood who you are at your core and what you do. You aren’t like ordinary men who work nine-to-five jobs. You have a special gift that doesn’t always fit in the outside world but makes you invaluable as an FBI agent.”
“And a bad choice as a boyfriend or husband,” Mark replied ruefully.
“Not true,” Richard said firmly. “All it means is that whatever woman eventually winds up in your life has to be somebody who can embrace all that you are, a woman who doesn’t expect you to be a normal man.”
“You’re making me sound like a freak,” Mark exclaimed.
Richard laughed. “There’s a difference between being a freak and being special. You’re special, Mark, and you deserve a special woman, and I hope you find her someday.”
Someday, but not here and not now...not Dora, he thought as they entered the building. He focused on the task at hand, eager to find out what he could about the supposed relationship between Andrew Peterson and Melinda Grayson.
It took them several minutes inside the building to find Andrew Peterson’s small office on the second floor. There was a note on the door that indicated he was currently teaching a class and would be back in his office and available at ten-fifteen.
Mark checked his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Should we just hang out right here?”
“Sounds good to me,” Richard said, and leaned back against the wall to make himself comfortable. Mark did the same on the opposite wall, gathering together in his mind the questions he wanted to ask Andrew Peterson.
Students swept past the two agents, hurrying toward a class or escaping to the building exit. They carried with them an energy that filled Mark’s veins as he thought of a scenario where Andrew Peterson had been the man outside Dora’s window the night before.
Mark knew the man he’d chased had been medium build and in good shape. If Andrew Peterson ambled in fat or skinny, with sagging or bulging muscles, then