Free The Devil Makes Three by Julie Mangan

store room, just in case something went wrong. Then I examined my pajamas. They felt tainted with Corbin somehow, but I couldn’t help but like them.
    Putting the purchases aside I turned to my homework. Settling on the couch I opened the files of my class notes and began to read, paraphrasing in an adjacent window. When I got to Professor Cade’s notes I fell asleep.
    I woke to find my father peering at me.
    “I know the job bores you, but if you’re going to just fall asleep then there’s no point.”
    “What happened? Why are you here?”
    He pointed to the window. The sun shone brightly through the blind.
    “Oh. What time is it?”
    “Eight-thirty.”
    I’d slept for over nine hours. Grimacing I sat up and set my laptop on the coffee table. “Well then I only went to sleep about four hours ago.”
    “That doesn’t help me if there’s a break in.”
    “I know that. It won’t happen again.”
    I gathered my stuff together and hurried out into the hall. My mother stood arranging a spray of flowers on a table.
    “I can’t wait for spring. Then we could have some daisies around here. Maren always loved daisies,” she said as I passed. “Would you like me to cook you some breakfast, dear?” she asked as an afterthought.
    “No. I’ve got to go.”
    “Where? You never have class this early.”
    “I’ve got a paper to write.”
    #
    For a lack of anything better to do, I found myself in the library at the university once more. Entering the stacks I could hardly miss the large sign reminding students that climbing on shelves was against policy and that stools were provided for exactly this purpose.
    Provided, my foot.
    Settling down in a chair I pulled up my syllabus for Professor Cade’s class and read the requirements for the research paper. They were vague to the point of obnoxiousness, like most paper topics, and I found it little help.
    I decided to wander back to the Crim section and began browsing through books. Settling on the floor I pulled books at random and attempted to ascertain their topics. Many subjects presented themselves but I wasn’t sure if any of them could sustain a twenty-page paper, despite the voluminous books surrounding me.
    “I don’t recommend that one.”
    I looked up in resignation to find Mr. Multiple Personality leaning against a shelf. “Oh. Sorry. Am I in your way?” I asked, trying to determine to whom I spoke. His stance was casual, and he wore black slacks and a white button shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, leading me toward Professor or Agent Cade over Corbin.
    “We keep running into each other. Did you cognate your notes?”
    Professor then, I thought. “Better you than the other one, I suppose.”
    “Pardon?”
    I shook my head. “Never mind. Why not this book?”
    “It’s written by Norval Thomas. I find his analysis dry. Not to mention biased and not just a little bit bigoted.”
    “Well, tell me how you really feel, Professor.” I tossed the book aside.
    “That sounds so formal. I wish people would just call me by my name.”
    “You’ll have to refresh my memory.”
    “Collin.”
    “I’ll keep it in mind.”
    “I assume you’re looking for a paper topic.”
    “I’m not here for kicks, that’s for sure.”
    Crouching down he snagged a book from the bottom shelf. “You’ve got lots of time to worry about it. Try this one. If you don’t like it I could suggest something else.”
    I took the book and surveyed the title. “I don’t know if this is for me. White-collar crime really isn’t my thing.”
    “It doesn’t have to be your thing. If any of the paper topics were your thing, I’d worry. Do you give your other professors this much trouble?”
    “I’m not trouble. You’re the one who interrupted me.” I kicked the sassy tone up a notch, but somehow I didn’t think he’d mind. His smile proved me right. And it was just as enticing as Corbin’s. Of course, since they came from the same face that made sense. Feeling myself cringe