Still, it was reassuring to look out and see nothing that caused concern.
He sighed. Important aspects of this job had changed in the past few hours. When he’d accepted the assignment, he hadn’t really thought of Olivia as a target of the Reunion Class Killer, as he now dubbed the murderer. But seeing the former classmates at the meeting had made him consider everyone as a target, including Olivia. And the attack tonight had reinforced that conviction.
Before tonight, he’d assumed that he could leave her here alone while he went out and did some poking around. Now he was thinking that he’d better stick with her—or, more likely, keep her with him when he went out, although he was sure she wasn’t going to like that. He didn’t like it, actually. He was used to having time alone. Even with Jack and Shane, he wanted his own space, but he’d have to put his own needs on hold until he found out who had killed Angela Dawson, Patrick Morris, and Gary Anderson. There were some other deaths he’d like to investigate as well, but right now he was focused on the most recent.
Of course, he could get Shane or Jack to come over here while he went out investigating. But he wasn’t going to call in his partners every two seconds. They’d been outside checking the area around the restaurant tonight. That was enough for now.
Was he rationalizing? Maybe he wanted an excuse to tell Olivia she’d better stick with him. He snorted, annoyed that he was second-guessing his motives the way he’d try to second-guess a suspect.
Dropping the shade back into place, he brought his laptop over to one of the easy chairs and sat down. There were a lot of problems with this assignment, including the large number of suspects. The killer could be anyone in the reunion class or anyone from the school who had something against the class members. Like what if they’d been involved in a prank that had pissed off a janitor or a teacher? And, of course, it could turn out to be someone from a rival school, although that would mean they’d been involved enough with Olivia’s reunion class to go after a lot of the people. It was a possibility, but he’d bet it was closer to home. Which led him back to the idea of a homicidal janitor or teacher running around. He’d get a line on as many of them as possible and have Jack and Shane check them out. There would surely already be some evidence.
He returned to his laptop and accessed the files that Jack and Shane had already compiled, looking at some of the material they’d entered. One of their jobs was to see which class members were living in the area. He scrolled down, counting the names, and found more than two hundred. Great! A lot of suspects that the other guys were going to have to check out while he was working from this end. He sent an email telling them what had happened tonight, then knew he’d better turn in if he was going to be any good in the morning.
Still, he sat for long moments on the sofa with the computer in his lap. He and Olivia had been sitting here before the attack, and his mind went back to that domestic scene. They were playing an engaged couple—a role he’d never expected to fill. Not that he thought marriage was a bad idea for his two Rockfort partners. But they hadn’t lived with the turmoil in his parents’ apartment. The yelling. The slamming doors. The late-night beatings. He’d decided long ago that a kid who’d been through that was doomed to repeat his parents’ mistakes. And he’d figured that the best way to avoid it was to steer clear of the institution of marriage.
He laughed. And now here he was playing at being engaged and enjoying it on a certain level.
Well, don’t start trying to decide whether Shane or Jack should be your best man, he cautioned himself. A few days with a gorgeous model shouldn’t change the convictions you’ve built up over a lifetime.
It was good advice. The question was, could he follow it? Or was he already getting sucked in over his head? He looked toward the ceiling. He and Olivia had been uncomfortable with each other from the start—partly because of the attraction simmering between them. In the bathroom when she’d been tending his wounds, he’d felt like they were two cats, a female in heat and a tom, thrown into a burlap bag where they couldn’t escape from each other. He knew she’d felt the same sexual pull. He’d seen it in the brightness of her eyes, smelled it in the scent of her body. They’d both fought the attraction—and managed to cool themselves down.
But they’d also gotten to know each other a little better. Some of it was from observing her behavior at the reunion meeting, and some of it was from their conversation. Which was good for the working relationship, he told himself.