Free Alpha Me Not by Jianne Carlo Page A

Charlene’s forehead. “There was a major pileup on the interstate, and it took them three hours to attend to her. She never cried. Not a single tear. The bone was sticking out of her flesh, and she’d not had even a single painkiller. She was in terrible pain and bore it like a trooper.”
    “I wanted to impress him, and I guess I did.” Charlene ducked her head.
    Hard to reconcile this shy, lovey-dovey Charlene with the caustic woman who relished tearing her classmates’ papers apart. Maybe she had misjudged Charlene.
    “It’s a good thing I made reservations for next Friday. With all these newbies in town, every restaurant will be packed to the gills. Want to join us, Susie? We’re hosting Vance’s formal appointment as head coach at Chez Pierre’s.”
    Vance Ellison, the Ruffians new football coach, had the town by the short and curlies. He’d stepped into the hallowed shoes of the former head coach, Tommy Sloan, after the man’s massive stroke last spring, and led the team to their second championship victory the past year.
    Ellison had been the Ruffians’ second-string coach for decades, but most people had never heard of him, as the media limelight had always shone on Tommy Sloan. Coach Tommy, as he was affectionately known, had won more championships than any other coach in college football history. Hallowed couldn’t begin to describe how the citizens of Hallie, who treated football as religion, viewed Coach Tommy. After the Ruffians massive victory, Ellison had become the new media beacon, and the man appeared to savor the attention and adoration.
    She’d met Ellison and his wife at a get-together hosted by Dr. Surgue to introduce all the new graduate students. She had asked Dr. Surgue to chair her thesis committee, and planned to broach Coach Ellison to be the sports advisor for the committee.
    “Can I get back to you on that one? I’ll give you a call later in the week.”
    “Sure. This isn’t a party I’d miss if I were you.” Charlene had recently finalized her thesis committee and her subject for the exam—sports nutrition.
    The noise level in the cafeteria escalated as hordes poured through the main doors. The frenzied shouts, greetings, and high-pitched squeals and laughter of boisterous recent high-school graduates and proud parents echoed and bounced off the walls.
    Susie watched the newcomers through a veil of wistful envy. Had she ever been that innocent? That carefree? Did it matter? She’d long ago decided what she didn’t want out of life. No one was ever going to control her or her future.
    After her master’s, she hoped to land a job in a test kitchen, preferably Cook’s Illustrated , make the necessary contacts, and then wrangle her way into a cooking show on the Food Network or maybe the Travel Channel. She’d become a force in the industry and, more importantly, be financially independent.
    “Whew. I don’t think we were ever that noisy.” Charlene scrunched her nose.
    Grant rolled his eyes. “On a good day we’d have made them sound like a library. Did you know this woman can level a room with one whistle?”
    Susie blinked. Charlene? Whistle? Miss Lace and Petticoats? Not in this lifetime.
    “Grant. Stop spilling all my tomboy secrets.” Charlene cupped a hand over her mouth and tittered. Actually tittered.
    Susie near gagged.
    Gathering her purse and a binder together, Charlene stood. “We should get going. Don’t forget, Susie, if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.”
    Grant lurched to his feet, eased the chair out of his wife’s way, and gripped Charlene’s shoulders. “Hang on. Here’s the news.”
    Susie followed Grant’s gaze to the large television hanging in the corner, and frowned when she read the caption rolling across the bottom of the screen. “They haven’t found him?”
    Peter Flanagan, a third-grader at a local school, had gone missing three days before. Search parties had been formed, and teams of volunteers had been