The wind whistled loudly outside and a clump of snow fell off the roof to the frozen grass, jerking Gemma back to the present. She shook off the past and tipped back her glass, finishing off the wine. The liquid splashed into her stomach, swirling around.
Turned out perfection was deadly. Who knew?
* * * *
Jethro’s neck prickled as he walked toward his SUV after classes had concluded. His second day of the semester had involved spirited debates with several intelligent students, and he had high hopes for his classes, providing his brother didn’t shoot him. He looked around at the motionless cars and softly falling snow, noting several decent vantage points in the surrounding trees.
His phone buzzed and he absently answered it. “Hanson.”
“Hi Jethro, it’s Alison. We met at Blarney’s Bar?” a smooth voice said.
Yes. Pretty blonde who worked as a nurse practitioner in the middle of the city. “Hi,” he said, pausing. “What canI do for you?”
“I thought we could meet up,” she said, a smile in her voice.
He winced. His track record with women wasn’t good, most likely because he was a killer trying to be a professor to find redemption, which wasn’t truly possible. Plus, now his sociopathic brother was on the loose. It was rare he’d spend more than one night with any woman, no matter how wonderful she might be. “Sorry. I can’t make it.” He kept his voice kind but ended the call, figuring it was easier that way. For both of them.
Roscoe paused by his side, lifted his head, and sniffed the air.
Jethro looked down at the dangerous German shepherd and tucked his phone back in his pocket. “What is it?” He stared back at the large oak and pine trees. “Whatdo you smell?”
Roscoe barked, bunched his muscles, and took off at a dead run through the lot.
“Hey,” Jethro yelled, angling his backpack over his shoulder and lunging into pursuit. “Roscoe, stop.Knock it off.”
The dog changed direction, still in the massive parking lot that took up the west and north sides of the campus, his legs sliding out from under him. He yipped several times, regained his balance, and ran full-on between parked vehicles toward the trees.
Jethro slipped on the ice but kept going. “You’re going to get hit,” he snapped as a truck swervedout of the way.
Roscoe barked and ran onto the sidewalk near the day care. Then he rammed full force into a wool coat. A scream echoed and a box of candy flew up into the air.
Jethro recognized the voice immediately, even before he looked up into Ms. Falls’s startled face. Trudy held her hand and peered around her coat to watch Roscoe plowing through the candy. “Bad doggy,” she murmured, tilting her head.
“Damn it.” Jethro grasped Roscoe’s collar and yanked him away from the round chocolates. “Don’t tellme. Rum balls?”
Ms. Falls nodded and pushed her daughter behind her, watchingthe crazy mutt.
Jethro sighed. “I’m sorry. He has a slight alcohol problem and must have smelled the rum all the way around thefar building.”
She blinked. “Alcohol?Not chocolate?”
Roscoe whined and pawed at the mangled mess on the ice.
“Yes,” Jethro said, pulling the dog away and then smashing the balls into the icy snowwith his boot.
Roscoe whimpered.
Ms. Falls’s face softened and she crouched down. “You poor baby. Come here.”
Hanging his head, Roscoe went into full-on pathetic mode, slinking toward her to bury his nose in her neck. She wrapped both arms around him and crooned into his snowy fur, telling him it was okay.
Jethro’s mouth almost dropped open. Who was this woman? Where was the ice queen with the flat eyes? “He’s working you,” he managed to get out.
She looked up, a smile of pure delight on her face. Her suddenly lovely face. “I know.” Leaning back, she scrubbed both hands behind the dog’s ears. “Even so, I can tell he’s sorry.”
That smile hit him right in the chest. Square on and hard.
Trudy toddled up and patted the dog’s head. “Yeah. Him’s sorry.” She looked up at Jethro, her eyes wide. “Don’t be mad at him. Him’s a good boy.”
