After a moment, Mary Alice excused herself, and her admirer turned anxiously to follow her with his gaze. Behind his thick, bottlelike glasses, his eyes looked dazed and slightly guilty, like a kid who’d purloined his father’s Penthouse.
“Dr. Quay?”
He turned, startled, as if he hadn’t seen Erin standing there. His face flushed a deep, mottled red, and he muttered something under his breath, quickly whirling away to run headlong into a uniformed server carrying a heavy, silver tray of canapés. Somehow the young woman managed to keep her balance, and after a bit of two-stepping, Russell darted around her and disappeared into the crowd.
“The poor man is obviously sexually deprived,” Lois Childers, an archaeology professor, commented wryly as she ambled up beside Erin. “That’s the kind you have to watch out for, you know. Their frustrations sometimes manifest themselves in very disturbing ways.”
“You sound as if you’ve had some experience,” Erin remarked mildly. Lois was a tall woman, in her early forties, with handsome features and a raspy, sexy voice deepened even more so by her chain smoking. Her auburn hair was shoulder length and blunt cut in a Cleopatra style that highlighted her angular cheekbones. Tonight she wore a gold brocade suit that made her seem positively regal as she gazed upon the proceedings with airy disdain.
“I’ve known my share of head cases,” she blithely admitted. “I’d watch out for Russell if I were you.”
Erin glanced at her in surprise. “Why?”
Lois shrugged. “He thought he would be the one put in charge of FAHIL. Dean Stanton gave him every indication that he would be, then suddenly—” she snapped her fingers “—here you are.”
“I didn’t know,” Erin said, although it was hardly a surprise. Universities were as competitive as multinational corporations. Her appointment was bound to cause some hostility. “I don’t know Dr. Quay all that well, but he doesn’t seem threatening.”
“Well, hell,” Lois said, eyeing Erin over the rim of her wineglass. “Neither do many serial killers.” She paused. “I’ll lay you two to one odds that the little general is still a virgin. His mommy keeps him on too tight a leash.”
“His mommy?”
Lois snorted. “Didn’t you know? Russell still lives with his mother. He asked me to dinner once and the old bag had to come along with us. Do you remember the mother in Throw Momma from the Train?” When Erin admitted she did, Lois nodded grimly. “Well, then, you’ve got the picture.”
“You’ve dated Russell Quay?” Erin hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous, but a more unlikely couple she couldn’t imagine.
“Well, hell,” Lois said. “I’m not getting any younger, and besides, in case you haven’t noticed, the pickings on campus aren’t exactly prime. We can’t all have tall, dark, handsome detectives traipsing through our offices.”
Erin froze. How had Lois known about Detective Gallagher?
Almost casually, she said, “So, who have you been talking to?”
Lois smiled mysteriously. “I have my sources.”
“This is serious, Lois. If there’s a leak at FAHIL—” Lois rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. Lighten up, Erin. A good-looking man causes talk. I saw him coming out of your office and I asked Gloria who he was. She obviously had the hots for him herself.”
Gloria Maynard hadn’t exactly overwhelmed Erin with her competence and trustworthiness, and now to hear that she’d been talking about a visitor to the lab, even to Lois, did not bode well for their future working relationship. Erin would have to speak to her secretary at once, warn her to be especially discreet where FAHIL was concerned.
Still, Lois was right. A good-looking man did cause talk, and Nick Gallagher was nothing if not good-looking. An image of him flashed through Erin’s mind, and she felt that same flutter of nerves in her stomach that she’d experienced upon meeting him. She told herself again it wasn’t attraction. She had some sort of sixth sense about the man. Some internal alarm warning her that he meant trouble.
Lois gave her a smug look. “I’ll lay you ten to one odds that man doesn’t live with his mother.”
No, Erin thought. For all she knew, he lived with his wife. Or his lover.
That notion gave her another odd feeling, making her stomach tremble even more, and she took a sip of her wine, trying to chase away the unfamiliar sensation.
“And I can tell you without a doubt, he’s no virgin,” Lois declared.
Erin gave her an amused glance. “Without a doubt? You know, of course, that implies a certain knowledge of the fact.”
Lois gave a sensual wince. “Don’t I wish. That dark hair with those blue eyes…that body…” She shuddered. “He’d be an incredible lover.”
Erin’s amusement evaporated, and she became annoyed with the conversation, although she couldn’t say why exactly. “Just because he’s good-looking—”
“It’s more than that,” Lois declared. “When you get to be my age, you have a certain instinct for men. It’s like a radar. You know almost immediately the ones who’ll remember your birthday, the ones who’ll be nice to your mother. The ones who’ll be good in bed,” she added with a sly smile.
“And you think Detective Gallagher would be nice to your mother?” Erin couldn’t help asking.
“Honey chile, my dear ole mother would drool all over him,” Lois drawled, mimicking Erin’s Southern accent.
“Would he remember your birthday?”
Lois gave that a moment’s consideration. “No,” she said finally. “He’s not the type of man who would remember a woman’s birthday. But he’d sure as hell know how to make it up to her.”
ERIN STEPPED OUT onto the portico of the dean’s house a few minutes later, breathing a sigh of relief that she’d finally made good her escape. Then she paused as her gaze lit on a man lurking on the sidewalk across the street. He stood beneath the limbs of a giant elm, his face filtered from the streetlight, and for a moment, Erin’s heart started to race. Had he followed her here? Had he been standing there all evening, waiting for her to come out? If so, why?
An image of the skeletal remains of Case 00-03, locked tight in her lab, flashed through Erin’s head, and panic bloomed inside her. Just as she turned to go back inside the house, the man stepped into the street, leaving the shadows behind, and Erin recognized him. She felt relief and anxiety all at once, and her heart continued to pound as she watched Detective Gallagher cross the street and head up the flower-lined walkway.
He’d be an incredible lover.
Erin cursed herself for lingering as long as she had over that conversation with Lois, because now she couldn’t get the woman’s observations concerning Detective Gallagher out of her head.
Honestly, Erin told herself irritably. Whether the man was Don Juan himself had no bearing on her dealings with him.
And I can tell you without a doubt, he’s no virgin.
