Amanda Stevens

Forbidden Lover


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raw energy flowing almost like a drug through his veins. They had to get moving on this, he kept thinking over and over. There was no time to waste.

      “Tell me about the remains you’ve found.” Her soft, southern accent was discordant with the topic of their conversation. Her voice came straight from the pages of Gone with the Wind. But there was nothing fragile or coy about Erin Casey.

      “A hunter found the bones yesterday morning,” he told her. “In a remote, wooded area in Wisconsin.”

      Her brows lifted slightly over the rim of her glasses. “Hardly CPD’s jurisdiction, is it?”

      “No, but I know the county sheriff in that area. He called me when the remains were discovered.”

      “Why?” Her blue eyes behind the glasses were gently probing.

      Nick frowned at her persistence. “He doesn’t want any publicity until he has a handle on what he’s dealing with.”

      “You mean until he learns whether the bones are forensic or archaeological?”

      “Yes, but his concern is even more basic than that. It looks like a human skeleton, but who knows?” Nick shrugged. “Remember that case down south a few years ago where a man digging in a flower bed in his backyard uncovered several coffinlike boxes that contained what the local authorities thought were the skeletal remains of infants? The sheriff even went so far as to call in the FBI, thinking he had some kind of gruesome serial killer on his hands. Turned out the previous owners of the house had used that spot for their pet cemetery. The remains were a dog, two cats, and a canary. The media had a field day with that poor sheriff and his deputies.”

      “Actually, I do remember that case,” Erin said. “I’m the one who examined the bones.”

      “No kidding?” Nick had already known that, of course, but he thought it was a good way to make his point. “Anyway, my friend would like you to come up and take a look at the remains, see what you think.”

      “Where is the skeleton now?”

      “Exactly where it was found. We want you to oversee the excavation.”

      “I see.” She was intrigued by the prospect, Nick could tell. Too often, remains were sent prematurely to the pathology lab or to the morgue before a proper excavation and search of the area were conducted.

      “The sooner you excavate, the better,” she murmured, glancing at the calendar on her desk. “If it rains, crucial evidence could be washed away, but unfortunately, I’m completely tied up until Wednesday.”

      Two days away, Nick calculated. And the weather service predicted a major rainstorm in the next twenty-four hours.

      “Can’t you rearrange your schedule?” he urged. “The time factor could be critical here.”

      “But you don’t even know whether the remains are human or not.”

      He met her gaze. “They’re human.”

      “But you just said—”

      “I said the sheriff up there doesn’t want to come off looking like some kind of fool, which is true. He’s not sure the remains are human, but I am.”

      “You’ve seen them?”

      “I drove up yesterday as soon as he called me. We’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible, but in case word leaks out, a couple of deputies are patrolling the area. Just between you and me, though, I’m not sure how effective that precaution will be. They were all pretty spooked by the discovery, and I doubt any of them were willing to spend the night in those woods last night.”

      “I understand.” She frowned at her calendar, as if mentally juggling her schedule. “But I’m afraid there’s no way I can get up there before tomorrow. I have classes the rest of the day, and…” her frown deepened momentarily “…an engagement tonight that I can’t possibly get out of…”

      Her words trailed off, and Nick wondered if the engagement she couldn’t get out of tonight was a social one. Did she have a date? If so, she didn’t look all that keen on going, so what was the problem?

      “I could wait around and drive you up as soon as you’re finished,” he suggested. “We could start the excavation at first light tomorrow.”

      “If you’re in that much of a hurry, perhaps you should try someone else. Who did CPD use before I moved to Chicago?”

      “Dr. Bernard Rosenbaum, but he’s laid up with a broken leg. Dr. Ernesto Gonzalez occasionally backs up Rosenbaum, but he lives over two hundred miles away, and besides, he’s working in Bosnia right now. There’s no one else available, Dr. Casey. And it’s going to rain tomorrow afternoon,” he stressed. “I need you up there as soon as possible.”

      Something in his tone must have conveyed his urgency, because she looked up, letting her blue gaze rest on him for the longest moment before she nodded almost imperceptibly. “All right. I’ll see if I can rearrange my schedule. But you don’t have to wait around for me. Just leave me your number and I’ll call you tonight when I’m finished.”

      He stood, fishing a card from his pocket and dropping it on her desk. “If it’s all the same with you, I think I’ll hang around campus for a while anyway.”

      “That really isn’t necessary—”

      “Look…” He shot a glance toward the door. “I’m a little concerned about security. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take a look at your facility.”

      “Security? For remains that haven’t yet been identified as human?”

      When he said nothing, her gaze grew mildly reproachful. “There’s something you’re not telling me about this case.”

      “I’ve told you everything I know about the remains.”

      “Then why are you so concerned about security?”

      “Security is my job. In case you haven’t thought about it before, you’ve got a murder victim lying in your lab downstairs. Someone out there isn’t going to be too thrilled when you ID her.”

      She didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his words. “This building is equipped with a sophisticated security system, including highly sensitive motion detectors. A special lock was designed for the lab doors, and only a few of the FAHIL staff have been issued keys. The doors to the FAHIL facilities are kept locked at night, and the building has its own security guard. Does that sound satisfactory to you?”

      Her thoroughness impressed him once more. “You would have made a very good detective, Dr. Casey.”

      Again, she gave him a slight smile, but her tone was deadly serious. “But I am a detective. I’m a bone detective. I just don’t carry a gun.”

      And if she did carry a gun, Nick had no doubt she would be a crack shot. He had a feeling there were very few things Dr. Erin Casey didn’t do well.

      The possibilities, he decided, were pretty damn intriguing.

      “DR. CASEY! Wait up!”

      Erin, balancing her briefcase, an armload of books and papers, and a can of highly caffeinated soda, turned at the sound of her name. Ross Calvert, her research assistant, hurried up the sidewalk toward her.

      “I’m glad I caught you, Dr. Casey,” Ross said breathlessly as he drew alongside her.

      “I’m in a bit of a hurry, Ross, so whatever this is about, can it wait?” He looked instantly crestfallen, and Erin cursed herself for her curt tone. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have that reception tonight at the dean’s house, and you know how much I hate those things.”

      Ross nodded sympathetically, his normal good humor somewhat restored. He wore baggy black jeans, a black Primus T-shirt, and his dyed hair had been gelled into orangy-red spikes. The grunge look, including the eyebrow ring and chin stud, belied his keen intelligence.