Free Particles of Murder (A Shadow of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) by Charlotte Raine Page A

Andre asks, still skimming the first page of the manuscript. I lean against him to look closer at the manuscript. With his body heat so close to me, it reminds me of the dozens of times his toned body lingered right above mine and his dark eyes seemed to look into me until I was nothing but a soul.
    But that was in the past and it's time to move forward.
    “The first victim was Victoria, who had a fraternity boyfriend and we suspect she was sleeping with Dr. Pierce. The second guy wore plaid all of the time and, honestly, looked like a woodsman. He’s stealing his student’s lives for his stories…or warping them. He’s doing something with them.”
    “And they both happen to be dead now,” he says. “That’s quite the coincidence.”
    I grab the manuscript from him. “Where’s the other book?”
    He points to the bookshelf. I grab it.
    “We’re going to read these and see how similar they actually are to the students,” I say.
    He groans. “You know I am doing very important things outside of this.”
    I turn to face him. “Are you saying that you don’t want to do this with me?”
    He shrugs, but he follows me out, never letting more than a few inches come between us.

    * * *
    “ S arah’s hair made people do a double-take—even people who had known her for years. It was the shade of almonds, but as she walked, it moved like silk with the volume of a model in a shampoo commercial. She had the strong legs of a dancer—muscle etched in every inch—but most people never looked past her hair. Over time, she learned she could dissuade people’s obsession with her hair by tying it up in a bun, but it still drew people in and she didn’t appreciate people being in her private space, ” I quote. I flip forward a few pages. “Later, it says that Sarah has a scar above the right side of her lips and acne bumps on her chin. This is…like an exact description of Victoria. Did you find a description about his other protagonist?”
    “You mean Neil the woodsman, who enjoys plaid shirts and who is essentially described as a very tall, bald man?” Andre asks. “Yeah. I like this guy. He doesn’t give a shit about anything, but he’s still a decent guy. He reminds me of myself.”
    “When have you been decent?”
    “I still have all my clothes on while we’re alone in your apartment,” he mutters. “You should be impressed.”
    I set John’s book down and rub my temple. “What does this mean? Did he use them to write his stories and then kill them when they figured it out? Victoria was killed in his office.”
    “Seems like a pretty ridiculous reason to kill someone.”
    “Most reasons people kill each other are ridiculous,” I say. “Money, angry outbursts, jealousy, religion, drugs, revenge for petty things…”
    “Okay, you know what I mean,” he says. “It’s not like his students could claim that he had used their lives for his story and get anything out of it…neither of the students in the books are even English students. In fact, from what I’ve read of both books, most of it does come from a plot that couldn’t have happened in their own lives. He just used their physical appearance, maybe their personality, and a few parts of their lives. It may have angered them, but I don’t think they could have done anything about it, so there’s no reason to kill them.”
    “Maybe he’s crazy,” I say.
    “You said you had been hanging around with him a few times,” he says. “Do you think he’s crazy?”
    I shrug. “I think he’s a little…off,” I confess. “Not in the criminally insane way, but he does seem to adore his students and he became quickly attached to me.”
    “Do I need to kick his ass?”
    “Look who’s talking about asses now,” I remark. “No. We’re not involved. I don’t need you to defend me.”
    “I thought that’s why you came to me in the first place.” He tilts his head. “Is there something more going on between you and this professor? You seem