She sent a look around, checking for something that didn’t belong…someone whose gaze seemed furtive or triumphant, someone watching her reaction. She recognized all of the people standing nearby; she worked with them, or taught them, or had seen them on campus. No one looked out of place.
Her gaze settled on her teaching assistant, Clancy Weston, a doctoral student at the university. His expression was neither friendly nor concerned. While he had the potential to be a great sociologist, the chip on his shoulder weighed him down. He’d been unhappy when the university hired her; he didn’t seem to think she was the best candidate for the position.
When the police were finished with their questions, she went straight to her office. She’d been feeling a strange, ungrounded anxiety for a while now—a tension which the graffiti only deepened. It was comforting to fill her mind with other thoughts.
The university would be back in session in a few weeks. She had to get her syllabus and everything for her class finished up today so Clancy could post the info online before the semester began. Then she could spend the rest of the summer coding her field notes and interviews—and make another visit to the Friends before the summer ended.
Chapter Two
“Dr. Chase?”
Remi looked up from her desk to see a tall man filling the entire space of her office door. Words failed her as her eyes traveled the hard edges of his face. He was clean-shaven. His short brown hair was longer on top than on the sides. It was a little curly and uncombed and sexy as hell. His neck was as wide as his square chin, corded and lean. Her gaze lifted then locked on to his light brown eyes, eyes of a warrior—sharp, clear, direct. She had a lot of students like him.
Sometimes, though, eyes like his were hard to look at.
“Nice billboard out there.” He nodded in the direction of the front of the building.
Remi felt heat slip up her neck and into her cheeks. From embarrassment or just a reaction to him, she couldn’t tell. Deciding it was the latter, she ignored it. This was not a good day to run into strangers.
“I’m sorry…do I know you?”
“No. And I apologize for interrupting. I was hoping you could help me. If you’d rather I made an appointment, I can do that.”
“Are you a student here, Mr.—?”
He stepped into her office. “Greer Dawson.” He held a hand out to her.
She stood and took his hand, then lost herself in the feel of it against hers, warm, slightly callused, and big. He didn’t crush her fingers, though he could have easily. “I’m a special consultant to the Department of Homeland Security.” He handed her his card.
She lifted her gaze to his eyes, a good eight inches above hers. He wasn’t the first handsome man she’d run into, but he probably was the hottest. All her senses fired off the same warning: This guy’s trouble.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Dawson?” she asked.
“Greer’s fine. My research indicates you’re an expert on cults. I understand you’re focused on the Friendship Community right now.”
She stayed silent, waiting for his question even as she took a read on his intent.
“I’m hoping you can help me find a young girl I believe is living with the people you’re studying.”
“Was she born in their community?”
“I don’t know.”
“If not, it’s unlikely she’s with the Friends. They don’t have an open-door policy to outsiders. If she wasn’t born into the group, I doubt they’d let her in or allow her to hang out with them. It’s taken me years to build rapport with them—not an easy thing to do.” He seemed unconvinced. “What makes you think she’s in the Friendship Community?”
“I was with her at the clinic in Wolf Creek Bend. Her ‘family’”—he made the sign for air quotes—“took her away in their black buggy. I know she’s with them.”
Remi folded her arms. “What caused her to go to Wolf Creek Bend? The Friends rarely leave their community.”
“She came to kill my team lead.”
Stunned, Remi couldn’t look away. He was deadly serious. “Greer, you do understand that the Friends are pacifists. Committing murder goes against everything their community has stood for nearly two centuries.”
“It happened. I have a lot of questions I’d like answered.” He made a face, tightening his lips as he frowned. “Look, it’s not a quick story.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, up to the thin black leather and silver cords wrapped around his right wrist and the heavy tactical watch on his left. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked.
Remi glanced down to her laptop. She’d submitted the files Clancy needed to get her course up online. She was working on an outline for her article on social cohesion within the Friendship Community. She could take a break. And reluctantly, she had to admit his problem piqued her interest.
“All right. Let’s go over to the coffee shop.”
He gave her a small smile. “Thanks.”
She nodded, then saved her files and shut down her laptop. She put it in her desk drawer and locked it.
Greer waited at her door, letting her exit first. The school was quiet now that they were between summer and fall sessions, but most of the staff were on site gearing up for the fall semester. Clancy Weston passed them in the hall, giving Greer a once-over that made Remi smile.
“Friend of yours?” Greer asked with a lift of his left brow. And damn if she didn’t trace that whole dark line with her eyes before she answered.
“My teaching assistant.”
When they got to the stairwell, he held the door for her. Someone somewhere had taught him manners. Outside, the heat of the August day wrapped the sweet scent of freshly cut grass around her.
She didn’t open their discussion until they were fully in the anonymity of the outdoors. “So, tell me about this girl.”
“Unfortunately, there’s not much I know. Her name’s Sally. She’s blond, average height, somewhere between sixteen and eighteen years old.”