Free Nobody's Angel by Stacy Gail

outfit. “Professor Carmichael’s files have already been turned over to the police, but I can assure you nothing untoward will be uncovered there. He was as clean as a whistle, with nothing but commendations in his record.”
    “He sounds like a good man. But even good men can have bad days and take it out on the people around them.”
    “Every witness present that day insists Professor Carmichael was in a good mood, laughing and joking around as usual.” Dean Pringle’s mouth twitched like he was having a seizure even as he blew by the restraints he’d put on the interview. “I had invited one of those witnesses in for this discussion to tell you as much, but unfortunately she had a schedule conflict. Whatever happened that day, the problem didn’t lie in something our security could have done. I believe the explanation will prove to be much more complex than that.”
    He didn’t know the half of it. Kendall sighed as the interview came to a less-than-satisfying end. She pushed through the glass door leading out into the late afternoon sunshine, the scent of freshly mown grass emanating from the tree-shaded quad that separated the faculty building from the main parking lot. She suspected she had an explanation for Professor Carmichael’s fatal burst of violence—albeit a fantastic one Dean Pringle would never be able to swallow—but when it came to information-gathering for her own purposes, she had come away with zilch. This had been nothing more than a wild goose chase, a distraction hardly strong enough to pull her thoughts from her ever-growing obsession with Zeke Reece.
    Her brows drew together as she dug in her purse for her sunglasses. Heaven knew she wasn’t a prude, but blurting out that she’d found him delicious wasn’t one of her smoother moves. It was just so out of character for her; she’d always been cautious in building her relationships, moving with great care from that getting-to-know-you awkwardness to more intimate waters.
    But it was different with Zeke. It was as though she already knew him. Maybe when you allowed a man to wipe arterial blood-spray off your face, there was no way to escape the bonding.
    Now, if she could only figure out which man attracted her more—the sexy-as-hell Zeke, or the man she knew only as The Guardian Angel.
    “Excuse me. Are you the reporter from KPOW?”
    Kendall swung around, her attention swerving from her convoluted man trouble to the cheerleader-type approaching her. The young brunette had her hair tied back in a casual ponytail, a jaunty quilted satchel slanted across her body, and an incongruous expression of stress etched into her face.
    Hastily she checked the girl’s eyes for the cataract-whiteness of the geist, then put a shaky hand to her heart when she saw clear eyes staring back at her. If something wasn’t done about this geist soon, she was going to have a nervous breakdown. “Yes, I’m Kendall Glynn. Who are you?”
    “Krista Townley, Denise Draper’s best friend.”
    Her internal radar pinged. “Denise Draper was the student murdered here on campus this past week, yes? I’m sorry for your loss.”
    Krista shrugged, as if she didn’t know what to do with that. “Dean Pringle asked me to come and talk to you about the drama, but I knew he just wanted me to whitewash the whole deal, so I blew him off. What I really wanted to do was talk to you in private.”
    “I would love to hear what you have to say.” Hiding her delight at this lucky turn of events, Kendall gestured to a nearby bench in the quad. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, and you can tell me about Denise. What was she like?”
    “She was the sweetest girl you’d ever want to meet.” They settled on the bench under a eucalyptus tree, with Krista darting wary glances at the faculty building’s front doors, as if she expected Eustace Pringle III to come out brandishing his teeny letter-opening rapier in protest. “I was there that morning when Professor