Anya’s mouth dropped open and then shut quickly. She shook her head at Dingman’s questioning look. “It’s okay,” she mouthed.
Dingman lifted an eyebrow but remained in place.
Anya kept her face placid as fury flowed through her veins. How dare he just show up? “It’s nice you came, but I don’t want you here,” she said under her breath. “There are FBI agents everywhere, and if I throw a fuss, they’ll be on you in a second.”
Carl shook his head, standing straighter in his gray suit with a tailored overcoat. His blue eyes sizzled through the storm. “Listen, I know you’re angry, and I deserve that. But your sister has died, and I’m here to be with you. We dated for months, sweetheart.”
Yeah, they had. She looked up at his smooth shaven face, one she’d once thought was so handsome, and just felt sorrow for the time she’d wasted. “I’m not the nice person you thought I was, so let’s leave it at that. I’m happy to forgive you for cheating on me, but we’re over.” There weren’t many other ways to say those words. Plus, considering she now very publicly had a fiancé, Carl was only going to get in the way.
He tightened his hold until she had to bite back a wince from the pain. “Let go of me,” she hissed through gritted teeth.
His expression remained concerned, but he leaned in until his face was an inch from hers. “I’m in trouble, and I need your help.” Desperation darkened his eyes.
She frowned. “Trouble?”
“Yeah. Cathryn has filed a complaint with the dean.”
“Oh.” Anya pursed her lips, her attention already moving back to the serial killer case. “It’s a mistake to sleep with a student, Carl.”
“One mistake,” he almost whined.
What a jackass. She had to keep him from causing a scene. Agents and reporters were everywhere.
She shook her head. “You made your bed, buddy.”
“Please, just tell the dean that she’s lying.” He leaned in, his gaze intense.
“Excuse me.” Without warning, a rough hand ripped Carl’s grip away and then a muscled body stepped between them.
She swallowed. “Heath?” she whispered. Where had he come from? How had he moved so quickly? Glancing around, she took in several FBI agents suddenly looking her way. Oh man, she had to control this. She grasped Heath’s arm and tugged him to her side while plastering on a small smile. “Everyone is looking.”
Heath slid an arm around her shoulders and faced Carl directly, although Heath had at least four inches on the professor. “You touch her again and you lose a hand.” His voice was low and rough while a tension all but rolled off him that stopped Anya’s breath completely.
Carl looked down at Anya, his face turning red. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“I’d like an answer to that question as well.” Reese was immediately there, with Dingman right behind him. “Who are you people?”
Anya tried to answer, to defuse the situation, but Carl talked quickly. “I’m Professor Carl Sparks, and I was dating Anya until very recently.”
“I see.” Reese stepped even closer. “I’m glad you’re here. We’ve been meaning to discuss Special Agent Jackson’s visit to you.”
Carl paled.
Anya coughed. Apparently Loretta had informed Reese but not her about the little visit. God, she missed her sister.
Reese turned on Heath. “And you?”
Anya swallowed and tried unsuccessfully to step free of Heath’s protective hold. “Well, he’s, ah . . .”
Heath smiled, showing none of the tension he was communicating to Anya with his body. “I’m Heath Jones. Anya’s fiancé.”
Heath ignored the itch between his shoulder blades that warned of imminent trouble—he’d already jumped into the boiling pot of water. He’d avoided the law for more than fifteen years, and now here he was, surrounded by FBI agents.
All because one tiny redhead had looked frightened for a moment.
He’d seen the guy grab her, and he’d noticed the tightening around her eyes. At that point, the confrontation had become inevitable. For goodness’ sake, he was the calm brother. Ryker and Denver would be pacing with concern. Especially if they had just watched the train wreck Anya had created on the news.
He’d deal with her next.
