fall back to sleep, but when she eased back against the pillows, her head pounded harder, and the bed swirled as the drumbeat of recrimination thudded under her temples. The wine had allowed her to doze, but it was a restless, uneasy sleep filled with images of Elijah.
Drawing in a breath, she forced herself up off the mattress and moved into the bathroom, where she grabbed aspirin, which she swallowed dry. The next fifteen minutes became a study in will as she showered, dressed, and applied some makeup to brighten her pale complexion.
Feeling a little more human, she went into the kitchen and made coffee. The machine had barely gurgled out a half pot when she poured the first cup and drank. “Welcome back from the dark side, Ann,” she muttered.
As she refilled her cup, her phone chimed with a text.
Bryce: The Kansas and Knoxville files arrived. I’ll be in Helena today.
It was a two-hour drive to the state capital. She checked her watch. If she left now, she could be in Bryce’s office by nine. That would give her a full day to review the cases. She did not need him present—in fact, it would be better if he left her alone to her thoughts in a quiet conference room stocked with more coffee. She checked her calendar. Her bed frame, along with several carpets, was scheduled to arrive by nine. As tempted as she was to have the delivery person leave them on the front porch, she needed to wait.
Ann: I can be in your office by noon.
Bryce: Here all day. If I’m in a meeting, have them page me.
Ann: See you then.
Bryce: Roger.
The chance that the other crimes back east were related to the Montana cases was slim. But a small chance was greater than none.
Elijah sat behind the registrar’s desk, ready to face the endless mundane tasks that awaited him. Most would be problems that could have been avoided with careful planning beyond the next five minutes. But no one planned, so he ended up with harried students who believed he could magically fix incomplete schedules, bestow missed credits needed for graduation, or create spots in classes filled two weeks ago.
He had taken the volunteer job not to help his clueless fellow students, but to be close to Ann. He had kept his distance this last year for strategic reasons. Not only did he have to deal with the state and get his settlement, but it always took time for media attention to die down. Both goals had now been accomplished, so it was time to reassert himself and remind her the time for reckoning had arrived.
He sensed a woman approach his desk. She stood patiently for a second before she began to shift back and forth on her feet. He did not raise his gaze immediately, denying her immediate gratification.
Finally, he looked up, knowing impatience snapped in his gaze. She was midsize, lean with light-brown hair. She was older than the average student, maybe late twenties. “May I help you?”
Her stare lingered on him, and a quiet warning rang in the back of his head. Was she a reporter or a cop, or a woman who was curious about his story?
She held up the campus brochure. “I’d like to audit a class.”
“Audit?”
“I’m dipping my toe back into academics. Thought an audited class would knock the rust off my brain cells.”
“What kind of class do you want to take?”
“Intro to Forensic Psychology. Dr. Ann Bailey teaches it.”
His interest was piqued. “You know Dr. Bailey?”
“I’m actually working for her. I have this cleaning business, and I’m getting her Beech Street house ready to go on the market. By the way, my name is Maura Ralston.”
He was not surprised that Ann was selling, and he took it as a good sign. She was moving on with her life.
Elijah studied the woman more closely. She had a wide smile, a cute face, and her long brown hair had streaks with blond highlights. Her floral scent reminded him vaguely of Ann. She looked almost familiar, but he couldn’t place her.
“Maura, the class is full,” he said. “Dr. Bailey is a popular teacher, and this is the first time she’s taught a freshman class in five or six years.”
“Damn. Does she teach anything else?”
“We have other classes like that. I know the professors, and they’re decent instructors.”
“I’m sure they are. I really liked talking with Ann yesterday.”
He leaned forward. “She teaches a graduate class, but that’s not the place to start