Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(17)

“The event was posted on the university website.” He nodded toward the building. “I saw it when I googled your name.”

She smirked. “You were vetting my credentials.”

“I was.”

“Well, what’d you think?” She started walking, and he fell into step beside her.

“PhD in anthropology,” he recited. “Associate professor at American University, followed by a stint with the International Forensic Anthropology Foundation. Very impressive.”

“No, I meant the lecture. It’s part of our summer series. Dr. Filburn asked me to do it and left the topic up to me. I worried it was a little much.” She looked at him, and he was struck again by how green her eyes were. “What was your take?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I was pretty blown away.” And that was an understatement. He’d watched from the back of the room for forty minutes as she’d presented slides showing the mass graves she’d excavated down in Guatemala. Many of the victims were boys or young men who’d been caught up in gang violence. Some victims were killed simply because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and had witnessed the carnage. When Sara got to the picture of a toddler-size skeleton, her impassioned words had moved people to tears. Even Nolan had gotten a lump in his throat.

“I’d never heard about it,” he said. “And I keep up with stuff like that.”

“Stuff like . . . ?”

“Murder. Violence. The twisted shit people do to each other.”

They passed the admissions office and continued toward the parking lot.

“I’m not surprised you didn’t see it in the news,” she said. “Everything’s infotainment now. This happened in a foreign country, and there’s no celebrity connection.” She glanced up at him. “Not to get on a soapbox, but it’s something that bothers me.”

They reached the street, and he stopped walking. “I got your voice mail,” he said.

“I take it that’s why you came?”

“I figure I’m not going to like what you have to tell me. If it was easy, you would have said it over the phone.”

She sighed and looked out over the parking lot. Her honey-colored hair was smooth and shiny tonight, and she’d left it down. Last time he’d seen her, she’d been wearing a baseball cap and coveralls, and her nose was pink from the sun.

“There’s a lot we need to go over,” she said now. “We should sit down. How about somewhere close? Maybe Schmitt’s Beer Garden?”

“You bet.”

“I’ll meet you over there.”

? ? ?

Nolan insisted on paying for their beers, and they found an empty table outside under a giant oak. Strands of white lights wrapped the tree, casting a glow over the entire patio. With the misters going, it was almost pleasant outside.

Sara took a seat at the picnic table and shed her linen blazer. She wore a silk tank underneath, and the breeze felt good on her bare arms. She smoothed her hair self-consciously. She hadn’t planned on a date. She’d skipped makeup and only added a spritz of Chanel before leaving home tonight. She didn’t care for expensive clothes or makeup, but she spent a lot of time around bad smells, and French perfume was her one indulgence.

Nolan sat across from her. “You come here often?”

She smiled, and he shook his head.

“Sorry. That sounded like a line. I’m asking because the only time I’ve been here, I was with Alex and Nathan.”

“Alex from our cybercrimes unit?”

“Yeah. I worked with her husband up in Austin way back when.”

Alex’s husband was a detective with Austin PD, and he had a ton of connections in cop circles.

“So, you started your career with APD?” Sara asked.

“Yep.”

She squeezed a lemon wedge and dropped it into her glass. At Nolan’s suggestion, she was trying a wheat beer from a local brewery. “How come you left?” she asked.

“Thought I might like the job better in a smaller city. You know, make more of an impact.”

She sipped her beer, wondering whether that was the full story or if there was more to it. Some people joined a small department to rise through the ranks faster.

“And do you? Like it better?” she asked.

“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”

She looked at his fingers around the beer glass. He had capable-looking hands and a tan that suggested he spent a lot of time outside.

Sara’s nerves fluttered. This wasn’t a date. Not even close. But something about the way he watched her made her imagination take off. There was an undercurrent of attraction between them. Or maybe it was just her.

Her gaze met his, and he lifted an eyebrow. Okay, it wasn’t just her. He was definitely giving her a look.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he said, deflecting the conversation away from himself.

“No, I don’t come here much. Honestly, I don’t go out a lot. At least, not to bars.”

She’d just made herself sound like a nerd, but it was true.

“So what do you like to do for fun, Dr. Lockhart?” He smiled slyly and sipped his beer.

“When I get time—which isn’t often—I like outdoor activities,” she said. “Hiking, rappelling.”