A Profiler's Case for Seduction(71)

It would be so easy if she could see Mark as the enemy, a man attempting to destroy the sister she loved. But Dora had no real depth of feeling toward Melinda other than gratitude. In the very depths of her heart, she couldn’t get past the fact that while Melinda was kidnapped three men had been murdered, and since her miraculous release from her captives, nobody else had died.

* * *

Mark knew that Melinda had an afternoon lecture and that probably her two assistants would be in their usual seats in the front row. That worked fine with him. In fact, he was counting on that very scenario.

He’d lain awake for half the night, most of his thoughts filled with Dora. His heart had ached for the little girl who’d suffered so much and had sought escape first in the arms of a physical abuser and then with a man who’d emotionally stabbed the last of her life out of her.

As a profiler, he understood very well the forces that drove people onto different, varying paths of life. It was little wonder that Dora had found solace in the bottle. He had no doubt that her unconscious desire had been to drink herself to death, to disappear from the pain.

He’d seen her pain the night before, had felt it radiating so strongly from her it had made him almost physically ill. He’d wanted to sweep her into his arms, hold her tight and assure her of her value as a woman, as a person. He wanted to give to her the validation and love she’d never received as a child.

But he hadn’t. She hadn’t given him any opening to offer solace and in that he’d seen her strength, a strength that would see her well through the rest of her life.

He probably shouldn’t have asked that they spend the homecoming celebration together. It had been a selfish request. He wasn’t ready to tell her goodbye just yet.

He’d finally fallen asleep and had immediately drifted into the same nightmare about Melinda. The weight of her on his chest, the laughter of male and female mingling into a sound of horror and the slow cutting off of his air supply, had finally jerked him awake, sweating and cursing.

It was only then, as he sat up in bed waiting for the nightmare’s hold to release him, that he realized he wanted to get into Melinda Grayson’s office.

First thing that morning Mark had obtained reluctant permission from the dean of the college to do a search of Melinda’s office, which was deemed to be a public place with no expectancy of privacy.

However, Mark knew the permission would not include searching any of Melinda’s personal belongings, including any laptop she might possess.

As he made his way across the campus, he felt the wildness in the air, but for him it wasn’t just the antics of the students winding up for homecoming, it was the thrum of anticipation that something bad was going to happen.

Whoever had killed those men definitely already had or had instantly acquired a taste for murder. Mark had interviewed too many killers to not know that in most cases a taste of murder quickly became an insatiable appetite.

He was surprised there hadn’t been any more murders. As he thought of the note that had been left on his windshield, he wondered if he was Melinda and her partner’s next intended victim?

Amanda certainly hadn’t told him all that she might know about her boss. She hadn’t even admitted that she had been the one to leave the note of warning for him.

It was probably a simple matter of no opportunity that had kept any more deaths from occurring. Melinda and everyone in her intimate sphere had to know they were under his microscope.

As he reached the building where Melinda’s next lecture would occur, he sat on the familiar bench outside and checked his watch. He had about ten minutes before he’d feel secure in sneaking into Melinda’s office and trying to find something, anything that might point a finger of guilt in her direction.

He had no idea what he was looking for, but knew he’d recognize anything that might tie into his theory of the case. He also didn’t know what the other agents were assigned to do today, as he’d skipped the morning briefing.

Patting his jacket pocket, he assured himself that a pair of latex gloves and several evidence bags were still there. Just in case he found something to carry out.

When he was sure Melinda had begun her lecture, he went into the building and to the second floor where her office was located. He’d taken a chance, not bothering getting a key from the dean. If his instincts were correct about Melinda’s personality, then she wouldn’t bother locking her door because she knew nobody would dare breach her privacy without invitation.

When he reached her office door he was grateful to find himself alone in the hallway. He grabbed the knob and twisted, a sigh of satisfaction escaping him as it twisted easily beneath his grasp.