yet. It was like hiking in the dark through a field littered with land mines. He needed to tread carefully, or he would blow the whole thing and his career would tank.
With a sigh, he stepped back into the hall and made his way toward the ME’s office, his mind already focused on the questions he wanted to ask. He had to be careful to set the right tone, or the company would throw up so many roadblocks he’d never be able to get close again.
The hum of feminine voices drifted out of the office, and he paused, considering the best way to ensure Hannah Baker cooperated. She’d sounded distinctly unhappy about the need to visit the company this afternoon. Was she worried about her former coworkers’ possible involvement in these murders? Or had her departure not been as amicable as she’d indicated yesterday?
“You need to stop touching your neck.” Dr. Whitman’s voice was firm but kind. “I know you don’t always realize you’re doing it, but it’s making him suspicious.”
“Do you think he’s noticed?” Hannah sounded faintly alarmed. Owen took a step closer, straining to hear. She had been hiding something after all. But what?
“It’s hard not to, the way you’re constantly tugging at your shirt.”
“I can’t help it. I’m just nervous.”
“I know,” Dr. Whitman said. “But I promise, no one can see anything.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Her admission sounded reluctant, as if she didn’t really believe her friend but was simply playing along to avoid an argument.
“Just try to relax,” Dr. Whitman suggested. “I know he’s a bit...intense, but he is a good guy.” Owen felt the tips of his ears warm at her pronouncement, and he resisted the urge to hang his head and shuffle his feet. Coming from any other person, the observation would have filled him with pride. He was a detective—intensity was part of the package. But the idea that his attitude scared Hannah Baker gave him pause.
“I know,” Hannah replied. “He’s just a tough person to read. I can’t figure out what he’s thinking, and it makes me nervous.”
“I understand. Just be yourself. You’ll get to know him in time, as you two work together. And if you decide to have a little fun while you’re at it...”
Was it warm in here? He tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling hot.
“Gabby!”
The reproach in Hannah’s voice cooled him off somewhat, but he had to admit, he liked the idea of the buttoned-up professor having some fun with him. And as much as he hated to admit it, Nate might be onto something. He’d felt so disconnected from everything and everyone since John’s death. Maybe a fling, however brief, was just what he needed to start feeling again. After John’s shooting, Owen had welcomed the numbness that exhaustion and grief had brought. Now, in his darker moments, he wondered if that numbness was becoming a permanent part of him, a cancer growing and spreading, destroying him in the process. Would he wake up one day to find he could feel nothing?
“I just hope you don’t let the accident keep you from enjoying the rest of your life. You lost so much time to recovering, it would be a shame for you to lose any more to fear.”
“I know. But even though he’s attractive, it wouldn’t be right for me to try to start something while he’s working on this case.”
A surge of respect flowed through him, and Owen found himself nodding in agreement. Exactly. Good to know they were on the same page. And since both of them had no intention of being anything other than professional, it was time for him to stop eavesdropping.
Even though he was more curious than ever when it came to Hannah Baker.
Moving quietly, he retreated a few steps down the hall, then turned and walked heavily toward the office, making noise so the women would know he was coming. They both looked at him when he stepped into the room. Hannah’s cheeks were the light pink of a fading blush, while Dr. Whitman had a knowing look in her eyes. Did she realize he’d been eavesdropping? He gave a mental shrug, dismissing the question. It didn’t matter—if she knew, she didn’t look inclined to share the information, and if she didn’t know, he didn’t want to raise her suspicions by acting guilty. Better to act as if everything was normal.
He offered Hannah a small smile. “Nate, my partner, is following up some leads at a medical clinic this afternoon. That means it’s just going to be you and me heading over to ChemCure Industries.”
“Okay.” She nodded and reached for her bag, then stood. “Do you want to go now?”
“That would be great,” he said, a little surprised by her apparent change of heart. Just a few minutes ago she’d seemed reluctant to go back to ChemCure Industries, but now she was practically running for the door. Had she gotten over her initial shock at the company’s apparent involvement? Or was she just eager to get this over with so she could return to her normal life?
He pushed the thought aside and nodded at Dr. Whitman. “Please call me if you find anything else on the victims.”
“Of course.” She stood as they moved toward the door, but didn’t come out from behind her desk. “Good luck at ChemCure. I’ll talk to you later, Hannah?”
“Yeah.”
He led her to his car, trying not to read too much into her silence. Focus on the case. Nothing else mattered. Later, when he’d solved these murders, he could relax and indulge in an exploration of his attraction for the professor. Maybe he could even talk her into a fun, no-strings-attached celebration. But for now, it was strictly business between them.
She climbed into the front seat of the car, and he caught a whiff of lavender as she moved to fasten her seat belt. He closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the soft scent that was filling the small space of the car. Of course she smelled good. How could she not? With a quiet sigh of resignation, Owen twisted the key in the ignition.
It was going to be a long ride.
He was quiet as they started out for ChemCure Industries. It was a quality that Hannah appreciated, as she wasn’t much of a talker herself. Over the years, she’d learned that most people weren’t comfortable with silence, and would chatter on about anything and everything in an attempt to fill the void. Very rarely, she would come across another person who didn’t mind the quiet, and she always enjoyed spending time with them. It was exhausting trying to come up with small talk with someone she didn’t know very well. Apparently, Detective Randall felt the same way, and her estimation of him went up a notch or two.
What made it even better was the quality of the silence. It wasn’t the cold, closed-off sensation that came from being ignored. Nor was it the awkward, prickly feeling she got when there were things to be said but neither person knew how to start. This was the cozy, peaceful silence of familiarity, which was strange, seeing as how they’d just met yesterday.
It was odd, feeling so comfortable around a relative stranger. It usually took Hannah weeks, if not months, to let down her guard after meeting someone new. But there was something about him that made her feel safe and secure, protected even. It was a comforting sensation, and it gave her the courage to consider approaching him when his case was resolved. He didn’t seem the type to be put off by a smart
