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Here is a short sample from the book:
I swallowed my nerves and approached the table. Some computer hacker who ran
a detective agency out of a corner of the college library? That screamed dork. I’d figured
I’d be meeting the King of the Nerds. And that was fine. I was a nerd, too. It was just a
bit of a jolt to walk over here expecting one thing and find a chiseled six-foot-something
gorgeous specimen of man. Or as Audrey would have said, a total panty-dropper.
He had to have heard my footsteps, but he didn’t look up. I cleared my throat.
That didn’t help either. Might as well dive right in then.
“Hi, um, I heard that you—”
“No fake IDs,” he said, still not looking up.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I don’t make fake IDs.”
“Good, because I don’t want that,” I said in the best bitch tone I could muster.
He put the book down on his lap and looked up at me. His eyes gave me a quick
once-over. Then he slightly raised one eyebrow. “You.”
“What do you want?”
“I heard that you…help people.”
He raised his left shoulder slightly, like he couldn’t be bothered to complete a full
I suppressed a groan. He really wasn’t making this easy, and I didn’t have much
patience. I snapped, “So are you in the mood to help people tonight, or are you just going
A small smirk. “That depends on what you need. I’m not going to help you stalk
“Good. Because I’m not interested in stalking anyone. I’m interested in stopping a
He pulled his legs down off the table and sat straight up. Apparently that had
gotten his attention. He steepled his fingers. “Someone is stalking you?”
“No, my roommate. Threatening notes, a text.”
His dark eyes seemed to grow even darker. “Saying what?”
“Whore, slut—the usual vocabulary of society’s lowest common denominator.”
He picked his book back up and flipped to the end. Then he tore out a page.
I shuddered my disapproval at his book violence.
Noticing my disgusted expression, he said, “Don’t worry. It was a blank page and
the book didn’t feel a thing.” He scribbled something on the paper and passed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked before looking down.
“My room number and a time for our meeting. Bring your roommate.”
With that, he stood, book under his arm, and walked past me like it was the most
natural way to end a conversation.
“You’re taking our case?” I yelled at his back.
He didn’t stop. He just called over his shoulder, “Don’t be late.”