I heard the word professor and pictured some gray-haired woman in support hose. Know what I mean?”
Owen grunted again, refusing to engage.
“Do you think she’s seeing anyone?”
“How should I know?” He sounded sour, even to his own ears, but Nate carried on as if he hadn’t noticed.
“I think she likes me. It felt like we had a connection back there. Maybe I should ask her out.”
Owen’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “No,” he said quietly.
“What do you mean, no?”
He cut a glance over to his partner. “It wouldn’t be professional of you. Besides, she might somehow be involved in all this.”
“Oh, please,” Nate scoffed. “You and I both know that she’s not a suspect. There’s no conflict of interest here. Besides,” he added, his voice taking on a smug note, “I wasn’t the one daydreaming about her during the questioning.”
Damn. It had been obvious, then. Still, his pride wouldn’t let him admit his partner was right. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you do,” Nate said. “We’ve been partners now for over two months, and in all that time, you’ve never once mentioned a wife, a girlfriend or even a one-night stand. You’re lonely. Would it be so bad if you let your guard down and enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman?”
“There’s no time.”
“So multitask. Take the professor out for dinner and ask her about the chemicals. That’s got to be every woman’s dream date.”
Owen rolled his eyes. “I thought you were going to ask her out.”
“Nah. I was just trying to yank your chain. Besides, she’s not interested in me.”
“What makes you think she’s interested in me?” As soon as the words were out, Owen wished he could take them back. This wasn’t junior high, and he really shouldn’t care if Hannah Baker liked him.
But he did care. And he wanted to hear confirmation that his attraction to her wasn’t one-sided. It was juvenile of him, but he needed that reassurance. Nate was right—he was lonely. And even though he had no intention of starting anything with the woman, it would be nice to know he had the option.
“For starters, she kept watching you. You were too spaced out to notice, but the whole time she was talking to me, she was glancing at you, looking for your reaction to what she was saying. And she kept touching her neck.”
“You noticed that, too?”
He saw Nate nod out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. But what’s with the turtleneck? Kind of a strange choice, given the weather we’ve been having.”
Owen tapped his fingers against the wheel. “I was wondering that myself. Think she’s hiding something?”
Nate considered the question for a moment. “Could be. But I don’t see her being involved in these deaths. We’ve been fishing bodies out of the bayou every seven days like clockwork. And while she may have the upper-body strength to overpower the smaller victims, there’s no way she could have handled that bruiser we found two days ago.”
“Good point. But she could have had help.”
“Besides,” Nate went on, ignoring him, “what these victims went through after they died...” He shuddered briefly. “It takes a lot of isolated space to inflict that kind of damage. Not to mention time. And she hasn’t been missing work, or acting unusual.”
“Again, she could have a partner.” Owen didn’t believe it, either, but they did have to consider every possibility, no matter how remote.
Nate gave him a droll look. “Uh-huh. And I have a Lamborghini in the garage.”
Owen merely shrugged.
“You know as well as I do that she’s not involved. She doesn’t have it in her to do that to someone.”
“I hope you’re right. We still need to look into it though.”
His partner let out an inelegant snort. “Don’t sound so broken up about it.”
Owen ignored the gibe, but he didn’t try to hide the smile that curved his lips. The thought of seeing the lovely professor again gave him something to look forward to, and given the way this case was going, he’d take his pleasure where he could find it.
The Harris County Institute of Forensic Science was a six-story redbrick cube on a tree-lined street near the Medical City area of Houston. Hannah parked in one of the visitor spaces and made her way to Gabby’s office, where she found her friend typing madly and staring at her computer monitor wearing an expression of fierce concentration.
Hannah hovered in the doorway, waiting for a break to interrupt Gabby. It didn’t take long. With a few muttered curses, Gabby punched at the keyboard, then leaned back, her brows drawn down in a frown. Seeing her chance, Hannah coughed quietly.
Gabby looked up, her scowl melting into a smile when she saw Hannah. “Hey! Come on in.”
Hannah stepped into the small office and extended her arm, offering Gabby the extra cup of coffee she’d brought. “You sure I’m not interrupting?”
Her friend took the cup and gestured to a chair across from her desk. “Saving me, more like. I’m up to my eyeballs in reports.” She took a sip, closed her eyes in appreciation. “Thanks for this.”
“No problem. I figured you could use some caffeine.”
“You know it. So how’d it go yesterday?”
Hannah sat in the lumpy chair and shifted to find a comfortable position. “It would have gone a lot better if I’d listened to your message first. I was totally thrown by the whole thing.”
Gabby grimaced in sympathy. “Sorry about that. I should have texted you, too, but I didn’t have time. Were they at least nice to you?”
“I suppose. One more than the other.”
“Let me guess—Detective Gallagher was friendlier?”
“You got it.”
Gabby nodded and set her cup on the desk. “I figured. Detective Randall can be a little...intense.”
“That’s one way of putting it.” Goose bumps broke out on her arms as she recalled the feeling of his dark blue eyes on her. “What’s his story?” She tried to make the question sound casual, but she and Gabby had been friends for a long time, and the other woman didn’t miss a trick.
“Oh, so it’s like that?” she teased. Hannah rolled her eyes and looked away, shaking her head.
“Seriously, Hannah. I’m glad you’re showing some
