lead has come to light.”
“We don’t know how good this lead might be,” he replied in an attempt to temper her enthusiasm. “The odds that we’re going to solve these crimes tonight by attending a college bookstore autographing session are pretty minimal.”
“True, but at least it’s a place to start.” She shifted positions to face him more fully. “We’ll solve this one, Alex. We’ll solve it and save every single one of those people.”
The diminutive use of his name felt both familiar and intimate and he shoved away the wave of warmth that suffused him as he heard it. She was the only person in his life who had called him Alex. Both professionally and personally he’d always been Alexander.
“We’re a long way from a solve, but I hope your optimism plays out,” he said gruffly.
Damn her green dress and her use of Alex. The last thing he needed was to get lost in memories, in questions from the past that would splinter his attention. He needed to remain focused on the case and nothing else.
The Baton Rouge College campus was both huge and beautiful. Stately stone buildings were linked together by tree-lined sidewalks, and courtyards with benches invited students to gather for impromptu study sessions or social activities.
The bookstore was along a side street, and Alexander was surprised to discover the parking lot next to it full. He found an open curbside space about a block away and he and Georgina got out of the car to walk in the sultry evening air. “Feels more like early August than September,” Alexander said.
“It is warm. Looks like she’s drawn quite a crowd,” Georgina said.
“Murder and mayhem always sell well,” Alexander replied with a touch of disgust.
Georgina shot him a quick smile. “You can’t blame people for being interested in the same things we are. If the readers who buy these kinds of books are freaks, then that makes you and me super freaks.”
Alexander laughed, knowing that she was right. Neither of them would be where they were if they weren’t drawn to the dark side of humanity.
He fought the impulse to place his hand at the center of her back as they walked side by side, as he used to do. It had always been a proprietary touch and he hadn’t had that right for two years.
Focus, he thought as they entered the door to the busy bookstore. This job was his chance to stanch the nightmares of failure that played over and over again in his head. He was haunted by a single dead young woman; he couldn’t imagine seven people haunting him if he didn’t get this job done right.
Alexander estimated Michelle Davison to be in her mid-thirties. She was an attractive blonde with blue eyes and appeared to be greeting her fans with genuine warmth and friendliness.
There was a long line before her, and as he and Georgina fell into the line, he also noted the man who stood just behind the table where Michelle sat.
Tall and muscular, although he was neatly dressed in slacks and a short-sleeved white shirt, he looked like a thug. A tattoo rode the side of his neck and others crept up his muscled arms. Boyfriend? Bodyguard? Partner in crime?
Alexander couldn’t help the suppositions that raced through his mind. His plan was to buy a book, chat like a customer and then once the signing was over have a more in-depth discussion with the author.
“I didn’t expect this kind of crowd,” he said, leaning closer to Georgina.
“I checked her out before you picked me up. This is her fifth crime book and she’s grown quite popular,” Georgina replied. “You think the guy behind her is her agent?” she asked dryly.
Alexander flashed a tight smile. “I’ve heard that literary agents are tough, especially those from New York City.”
A small laugh escaped Georgina and the sound pooled warmth in the pit of his stomach. It had been over two years since he’d heard the sound of her husky laugh.
He averted his gaze from her and instead focused on the other people