was nothing important or ominous about the initial. There couldn’t be. Magnolia College was a safe haven and always had been. She’d stake her life on it.
The frightening incident prior to the reunion gala flashed into her mind and made her reconsider. She’d been unusually jumpy ever since that night and nothing she did seemed to erase her lingering, prickling sense of dread.
The more Trevor thought about Steff’s notion that the letter scrawled inside the wall might have a sinister origin, the more the whole idea bothered him. It was probably ridiculous to take her suggestion seriously, but if he didn’t at least look into the possibility of foul play, he’d always wonder. Once he had a chance to sort through the rubble in private, he’d locate the supposedly bloody writing and put it aside until he could decide what to do with it—if anything. If he did take it to the cops, not only might the job be stopped, he might also have to tear up more of Steff’s office looking for further clues. And for what? A silly suspicion of foul play? The idea was ludicrous.
He made several trips out to a Dumpster he’d placed nearby for construction waste, then began to roll up the tarp containing the bulk of the chalky dust.
“Can I help you with that?” Steff asked.
Trevor laughed as he eyed her. “I think your main job should be cleaning yourself up. You’re a mess, Princess.”
“I wouldn’t talk if I were you.” She dusted her hands together before she took off her mask and handed it to him. “At least I’m a blond to start with. Your dark hair is practically white.”
“I probably turned gray because you were trying to help me,” Trevor quipped. He was growing more and more aware that they were both beginning to engage in the witty verbal sparring that had been such a big part of their relationship many years ago and it pleased him.
“Oh, thanks a lot. I sacrifice my manicure for you and what do I get? Sarcasm.”
“Sorry about your nail polish. You should have taken my advice and stood back where you weren’t in the way.”
“I wasn’t in the way. Even if you’re not willing to admit it, I helped you a lot.”
“Yes, you did.” He laughed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m offering you a job on one of my crews.”
“I don’t need another job. I have plenty to do already,” Steff replied. Looking at her dust-coated desk and chair she shook her head and sighed. “I knew remodeling would be messy but I had no idea it would be this bad.”
“I warned you.”
“Yes, you did. I thought just putting my files away, clearing off my desk and covering my computer would suffice, but I can see I underestimated the problem.” She started brushing off her slacks, then stopped. “I’m just making things worse. I’d better go outside to do this. Excuse me?”
As she sidled past, Trevor gave her as much room as possible and finished gathering up the folded tarp. It amused him to see the perfect Ms. Stephanie Kessler as dirty as a common worker, yet, even covered with dust, she was elegant and graceful.
“Get a grip, Whittaker,” he muttered to himself. “You have no business even noticing that woman, let alone wasting energy thinking about her.”
For the first time since he’d accepted this job he wondered if it was actually a gift from God or a test of his faith instead. He supposed it could be either, or even both, although at that moment it felt more like a big, big mistake than anything else.
Steff rejoined Trevor as he disposed of the last of the refuse. “In case I haven’t already said so, thanks for agreeing to do my little job,” she said. “I know it’s too small to be worth much to you and I do appreciate it.”
“No problem. My sister would have had my hide if I’d turned you down.”
She stifled her urge to snap at him. Not only did Southern manners preclude taking offense at his implication, her pride refused to allow her to express hurt feelings.
“Then I shall definitely have to thank Alicia,” she said sweetly.
If Trevor sensed anything insincere in Steff’s words he gave no indication of it. “You’d better get whatever you need moved out of your office before tomorrow morning,” he said. “I intend to start back to work very early.”
“Then you’ll want keys to the building. I have an extra set in my desk, but…”
“But what?”
“I need to ask you something first. It’s been bothering me ever since the night of the reunion. It’s about your shoes.”
“My shoes?” He began to scowl. “I rented the monkey suit so Alicia wouldn’t be embarrassed. Wasn’t I well-dressed enough for you, Princess?”
“It’s not that. It was the mud on your heel.” She hesitated, nervous, then blurted, “Were you poking around outside the library earlier in the evening?”
“Me?” Trevor’s frown deepened. “No. Of course not. Ask Alicia. She was with me the whole time.”
“I won’t need to ask anyone else. Your word is good enough for me. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
When she returned, he thanked her for the keys, then climbed into his pickup and drove away without further small talk.
Steff stood in the shade of the oaks and watched him disappear into the distance. What was it about Trevor that made her feel so unsure of herself? He was the only person she knew who could fluster her all the way to her toes, the only one who could rattle her with a simple arch of his eyebrow.
And those dark, brooding eyes. She took a deep breath and released it as a sigh, relieved that he hadn’t been the man she’d encountered near the library.
Penitent, she realized she should have known that without asking. Granted, when Trevor looked at her she still got the same chills she’d felt when she was in her late teens, but there was nothing malicious or frightening in his gaze. Quite the contrary.
Nevertheless, she was grateful for her ability to hide her innermost feelings, to behave as if she didn’t care what he, or anyone else, thought of her.
The only thing better would be if it were true.
THREE
Trevor ended up at Burt’s Pizza for supper. The brick oven pizzeria on Main Street had been a local hangout for as long as he could recall and stepping inside always reminded him of his college days.
His favorite booth in the back corner had been removed but Trevor could still picture the cracked, red, leatherlike seats and the marred tabletop. He had never taken Steff anywhere on a date but he had managed to catch her and Alicia at Burt’s quite often.
He’d sauntered up to their booth one day, years ago, when he’d spotted them dining there. Giving his best impression of a notorious bad boy, he had been greeted by an exaggerated roll of Steff’s beautiful eyes.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” she had drawled.
Trevor
