Alone (Bone Secrets, #4)(13)

Seth smiled as if he’d recognized her tactic. “I’m usually walking by here about this time of night after using the pool. I live only a block away. I’ve seen you in here at late hours several times.”

He’d noticed her?

“Ah… I haven’t seen you.”

“That’s because you’ve always got your nose buried in a text. No wonder you ace every test.”

Elation bubbled in her chest. He’d noticed her and he’d noticed her scores. The look in his eyes was frank admiration. Was he flirting? Or was he just being polite? What had driven him to sit at her table? She tilted her head. Sincerity rang true in his voice and gaze.

He’s interested in me?

“Do you swim every day?” Victoria repeated rule number one, turning the conversation away from herself.

“Just about. I like to do it in the late evening. The pool isn’t crowded and I can focus and think about other things. Helps me sleep, too. I get a weird sort of energy that I need to burn off in the evenings or else I can’t sleep. It’s a nighttime ritual for me.”

“I like to read,” said Victoria. “I switch to fiction before I go to sleep, otherwise I lay awake thinking about what I was studying.”

Seth nodded. “But what do you like to do for fun?”

“That is fun. You’re not a reader? Fun doesn’t have to be physical.”

His eyes crinkled as his grin grew, and she winced at her words.

“That was funny.”

Victoria’s cheeks heated, but she kept her chin up. Seth continued to grin, and she felt her stomach do a quick series of flips.

“I guess I feel like I read so much for school, the last thing I want to do is read some more,” he said. “Usually I’m dying to get out the door and get moving. Apparently that isn’t a problem for you?”

She shook her head. “I take a yoga class twice a week, but I can’t say I go there with energy to burn.”

“I’d ask if you need any extra help in class, but it’s pretty apparent that you don’t. You could probably do my job.”

She studied his face and mentally dissected his last sentence. Why would he ask if she needed help in class? Because… “Are you asking me out?” she blurted.

“Yes,” he said calmly.

“Isn’t that against some sort of rule?”

“Only if I’m a professor.” He frowned lightly. “Or are you uncomfortable with the idea of going out with a teaching assistant? I’m not going to screw with your grades or help you out. You don’t need help anyway. I don’t know why you’ve asked me the questions you have during office hours. It was pretty clear that you knew the material inside and out.”

Victoria held her breath. And held his gaze.

“You’re smart, you’re gorgeous, you’re going places. Why wouldn’t I ask you out?”

He thought she was gorgeous? “How many other students from your classes have you asked out?” The question slipped through her lips. It was a bit rude, but she wanted to know. She wasn’t falling for the teacher-boinking-the-student scenario.

“None.”

“None? Really?”

She must have looked doubtful. He straightened in his chair and repeated firmly, “None. I dated someone back home for a couple of years. We ended it a while ago. I haven’t dated anyone else since I’ve been here at school.” His gaze touched her lips, then cheeks and went back to her eyes. “You’ve been stuck in my head for weeks. I think it started one of the rainy nights I was passing by here. You were studying at this same table, scowling at the text like you were furious with it, and chewing on your lower lip. Did you know you do that in class too? Mainly during tests but sometimes during the lectures. Anyway, I was passing by, considering grabbing a coffee for the cold walk home, and I recognized you from class. Since then…” He shook his head, that half smile curling up his right cheek. “Yeah, you stuck in my head.”

Victoria stared. If he’d said he was a time traveler, she wouldn’t have been more surprised.

In shock, she agreed to a date.





“What’s a psychological autopsy?” Mason asked as he avoided looking at the young girl on the metal table.

The medical examiner had just mentioned the possible need for an unfamiliar type of autopsy. Dr. Campbell stood back as he watched his assistant stitch together the gaping chest incision that the examiner had created an hour before.

“It’s an investigation to discover the state of mind of these girls before their death. Right now I can’t even classify these deaths. They could be accidental, suicide, or homicide. I know the results of the tox screen will indicate what stopped their hearts and respiration, but it’s not going to tell us how it got in their system. Did someone else put it there, or did they take it willingly?”

Mason was familiar with the NASH classification for deaths. Natural, accidental, suicide, or homicide. Natural was easy to rule out in this case, but the ME had a good point. They needed more information. As soon as these girls were identified, they’d have a place to start. Dr. Campbell had efficiently sped through the first girl’s autopsy, from the Y incision, to the tissue samples, to peeling back the scalp to remove part of her skull and examine the brain. When the doctor had moved down the table to take a vaginal swab, anger had burned through Mason. The girl was almost a child, defenseless on the metal table. He offered up a prayer that her soul had left the room and wouldn’t witness the indignities her body would suffer. Mason had stared at the light fixture and films through most of the procedure.