Free The Perfect Coed (Oak Grove Mysteries Book 1) by Judy Alter Page B

hoped she’d run into some student who didn’t know that. “I’ll find him some other way,” she said.
    “He’s Missy Jackson’s boyfriend,” Tina said. “You really think you should be talking to him?”
    Startled, Susan said, “Why shouldn’t I?”
    The girl shrugged. “Police might not like it. I mean, it’s none of my business, Dr. Hogan, but, aren’t you more mixed up in this already than you should be?”
    “Yeah, Jamie, I am,” she said as she left the office.
    She couldn’t call Jake. He could probably find out the boy’s schedule, but he would forbid her to talk to him. Besides, he was probably furious at her now for sneaking out of the house. Discouraged already at eight-thirty, Susan went back to her office.
    Jake called almost the minute she got in the door. “That wasn’t funny, Susan. Dammit, how can a person protect you when you’re so goddamned stubborn?”
    “I’m sorry,” she said and really meant it. “But, Jake, I can’t have a bodyguard every minute—even if he is the most handsome man in Oak Grove and the best lover and—”
    “Cut it out, Susan. I’m serious.”
    “So am I. Jake, I watched to see that I wasn’t followed”—she didn’t say that she didn’t know what she’d have done if someone followed her—“and I checked out the house carefully before I went in.”
    “I’m going to get you a gun,” he said.
    “I’m scared of guns.”
    “I don’t care. You’ll have to take a class and after that, you won’t be scared.”
    “I don’t have time to take a class,” she protested.
    “You’ll make time,” he said, his voice grim. “This morning I’ll send someone over to take that cat to Jordan.”
    “It deserves to be buried, Jake, not thrown into a Dumpster. Jordan doesn’t need the box and the cat—he just needs the note.”
    “He needs to see the whole thing. Then, by God, I’ll bury it. But Susan, you try a man’s patience.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said again.
    She longed for coffee but was reluctant to face the lounge. While she contemplated that dilemma, Ellen appeared at her door.
    “You need coffee,” she said, and there was no question in her voice. Ellen had apparently decided to go casual this day too, for she wore denim pants and a denim shirt, a concho belt looped below her waist—very southwestern looking. Her hair was in a ponytail—well, not in the teenage style but one of those that sat low at the neck.
    “Yeah,” Susan said, “I do.”
    “If I go get you some and bring it back here, will you listen to something weird that happened to me?”
    “Sure.” Susan’s attention perked up a bit. Something weird happening to someone else would be a relief.
    Ellen was back in minutes. “You could have gone yourself. Place is deserted. Ever since the, ah, the murder, no one seems to hang out at the department lounge.”
    “It’s because they don’t want to meet me,” Susan said.
    “Oh, go feel sorry for yourself, why don’t you?”
    It was enough to startle Susan. “Okay, what weird happened to you?”
    “Well, yesterday, I just couldn’t face the faculty center—okay, okay, I feel the same way you do, I just usually don’t admit it. Anyway, I went to the cafeteria in the Union, got my salad, and decided to eat it right there. Found a table in the corner and thought it was great. I’d eat in peaceful solitude, even in the midst of all those noisy students.”
    “Sounds good,” Susan said. “So what’s weird?”
    “Well, I’m sitting there, and this guy comes up and says, ‘You really remind me of someone.’ I wanted to say, ‘Listen, sonny, that’s the oldest line in the world and you’re ten years too young.’”
    “He couldn’t tell that by looking at you,” Susan said.
    “Is that a slap because I dress like the kids?” Ellen was just the least bit indignant.
    Susan laughed a little. “No, it’s an honest compliment. Nobody will mistake me for twenty-one ever again.”
    “You laughed,” Ellen