FIRST ENCOUNTERS
Oh my God. He couldn't believe it. He had heard that the university president had hired a new instructor. A new one. President Metzger should have been falling all over himself to hire him back. Instead, he brought in a new guy. Damn it. It was simply one more name to be added to his list. Mittel Föderativ. What the hell kind of name was that? He would have to sniff around a bit and check him out. He couldn't just walk up there in broad daylight; he didn't want Loralei Donovan to see him in a school-type situation just yet. Her time would come soon enough. However, the temptation was too great. He went back to his apartment just long enough to dress down. He didn't think anyone would recognize him. He would look like a 'mature' student, nothing more. He left his apartment and made his way back to campus. Casually he strolled toward the Arts and Sciences building and took the front steps two at a time. He pulled his hat over his eyes and moved down the hall. He ducked by Donovan's office, but it was obvious she hadn't come in yet. Good. He moved down the hall and peeked into the offices with opened doors. He saw a man gazing blankly at a notebook. He walked past the room, but double backed. He wanted to get a better look at him. At first, he thought Nick Fehr's ghost had come back to haunt him. Like Fehr, he was tall with black hair. Unlike Fehr, this man had a dusting of gray at the temples. He was wearing a pair of thin-framed gold-rimmed reading glasses. The fellow was dressed in blue jeans, a button down shirt, and a tan sports coat. Damn. How could one man look so much like another? Screwy. There was no nameplate on the door, but this man was most obviously Föderativ. He again puckered his face in disgust. What the hell kind of name is that? He moved quickly before he was spotted.
He didn't realize that he was spotted. Donovan had felt a pair of eyes on him. From the corner of his eye, he saw an odd-looking man slip past the office before rebounding and walking back. Instantly suspicious, he had wanted to follow this man, to find out if he was the one stalking his wife at the public library. There would be more time for that, more time to dig once he had his hands on Fehr's files. Until then, he would have to wait. He wouldn't have a report from Alex or Jake until later, but he had heard some talk on campus. There were several students who hadn't bothered to return because of the murders, but for the majority of the university population, it was business as usual. He glanced down at his wristwatch. In another hour and a half, the president intended to 'introduce' him to the remaining faculty and graduate students. He simply hoped he could pull off this teaching thing.
Although utterly dying to see her husband, Loralei acted moderately annoyed when she was interrupted and told about a surprise faculty meeting. She sighed, exasperated, as she stood and followed Reed down the hall and into a conference room in the late dean's office. Loralei was completely aware of Donovan seated at the far end of the conference table. She purposely sat on the other end. She had very few problems pretending that her husband was a rank stranger, but if he laid his eyes on her for one solid minute, her act just might fly out the window. She wondered almost vaguely how he had come up with the glasses, the jeans, and the jacket. He did look hot. Of course, Donovan noticed her, but he kept his poker face in tune. He was so much better than her. It had been several days and she missed the hell out of him. He sat back quietly and waited for the president to begin his speech and the introductions. Of course, Metzger had noted that his and Loralei's last names were the same, but he hadn't elaborated. The fewer people who knew they were married, the better. If it got around to the killer [Dannon], they would lose whatever ground they had gained.
"Considering the tragic circumstances surrounding the deaths of Fehr, Combs, and Simons, I'm glad the rest of you came back," Metzger began [Could his opening line be any worse, Donovan thought distastefully]. "Unfortunately, this means all your work loads will increase, but not to the point we first thought. Mittel Föderativ comes to us from Germany as a loaner so to speak." [Your skills of articulation are severely lacking, Loralei thought]. "Mittel, I'd like for you to meet Jack Reed; he's our resident statistician, Marvin Zimmerman; he teaches most of our sociology courses, and finally, Loralei Donovan; she's our criminal justice expert." They all exchanged brief, cursory chitchat before Metzger introduced Mittel to the dozen or so graduate students standing around the conference table. After the bustle and bullshit was over, Metzger cleared his throat. "Any volunteers willing to show Mittel around?" No one volunteered, all of them begging off for other 'duties.' "How about you, Donovan," he said suddenly.
She wondered if he knew she was married to "Mittel." Oh this is entirely too convenient. "I really need to prepare for class," Loralei said. "Perhaps one of the graduate students could…"
"No, Donovan, you'll do fine. Please, show him around, get him acquainted with the department."
"Very well," she said before fixing her eyes on the gorgeous bespectacled man. "Mr. Föderativ…if you'll follow me," she said blandly.
He nodded toward her. "Please, it's Mittel," he said, affecting a German accent.
Dear God. She was thrown back to the night of the fake party, the one that got her severely chewed out. Agent Kadin at your service. Two years. Jesus. "Fine," she said with little interest. "Mittel it is. I'm Loralei." She stuck her hand out and waited patiently for him to shake it.
Oh she is really reaching, isn't she, Donovan thought. If he touched her, he was certain his cover would be blown to bits. However, he was up to the challenge. They had had to play act before, hadn't they? He took her hand into his briefly. "Very nice to meet you…Loralei was it?"
She nodded. "Yes, Loralei. If you'll follow me," she repeated.
I'd gladly follow you to hell if it meant you'd kiss me just once, he thought as he followed her out of the conference room. The two of them walked sedately down the hall and Donovan kept his hands folded behind his back. He stood so very close to her and listened as she spoke softly about the department, where he could find things, and which classroom was which. He could smell her wonderful strawberry scent radiating directly from her hair, and he longed to touch it, to plunge his hands into the thick fall of her beautiful auburn locks. However, he played his role and kept his hands to himself. It wasn't easy. It wasn't any easier for Loralei. She hadn't seen or heard from him in four days. It killed her to be away from him. What made it worse was that Rachel watched for her father every night and had a hard time going to sleep without Donovan's presence. Even Tristan's schedule seemed out of whack. There was little else she could do. She couldn't risk bringing the kids to him as he had done for her, because if Rachel saw him, she'd scream "Daddy" at the top of her lungs, effectively blowing his cover. Yet, she did have an idea or two floating through her mind, a way to repay another debt owed.
At the end of the 'tour,' Loralei walked him back toward his office and lingered only for a moment. Any longer than that, and she'd thoroughly lose it. However, in that moment, they exchanged a knowing gaze, transmitting every thought and emotion rushing through them. "So, Mittel, this is it," Loralei said through a little sigh. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."
"Yes," he said, "I do." Betraying his cover for the slightest bit, he gazed her. He presented his hand to her. "Thank you."
She took it very briefly. "No problem."
He didn't linger or watch her leave. Instead, he turned and entered the stuffy confines of his office. He was completely horrified at the thought of teaching, but he was pretty sure he could pull it off. He should know a few things here and there about criminal justice. He wasn't altogether certain what he had actually gotten himself into. Before he delved too far into this new and confusing world, Donovan dug around in the desk drawer for the key to the dean's office that Metzger had provided earlier. He needed to get in there and snoop around before Loralei went off to confront Andy Dannon again. Casually, he left the office [longing to go to Loralei] and walked down the hallway toward the former dean's quarters. Looking around cautiously and seeing no one, he slid the key into the lock and opened the door. He slipped inside the office as quickly and as lithely as possible. He didn't want to garner the attention of anyone. However, he had chosen the perfect time to explore. The halls were relatively clear because many students had refused to return. He actually couldn't blame them. He went over to the low filing cabinet and was forced to go through five or six keys before he found the one he needed. There were several files inside and he flipped through them impatiently. All of them were alphabetically arranged and "Dannon" should have been fairly close to "Donovan," but irritatingly enough, it wasn't. He went through the hundreds of files again, thinking he might have skipped over it. No damn such luck. He leaned back a little and let out a low growl of frustration. He shook his head in disbelief as he experienced one of Loralei's patented 'duh' moments. There is more than one drawer, you dumb ass. Of course, it didn't dawn on him that there could be a separate drawer for closed files. Think Donovan. He slid open another drawer and was faced with yet more dark brown six-part folders. He thumbed through them with the same impatience he had displayed with the other drawer. Nothing. Damn it. Where the hell had he hidden the file? If Dannon were an instructor here, there had to be a file somewhere. He straightened his body from its cramped kneeling position and turned to the expensive executive desk. The drawers had locks and he would have bet his ass that none of them were open. What the hell. He tried one anyway, and as he expected, found it locked. He sighed in exasperation and hoped there was a key on the ring that would unlock them. He tried them all. Nothing. Shit. He had the greatest urge to throw the keys across the room. He leaned back in the equally expensive executive chair and stared balefully down at the desk. His eyes spotted another drawer in the middle. Frustrated, he reached over to it and pulled, never expecting it to come open, which was what happened. Inside was a lovely gold toned key that would fit beautifully into the drawer locks. He took the key and tried the first drawer. His eyes beheld yet more folders, lo and behold, "Dannon" was right there. What a sneaky fellow that Fehr was.
Feeling the heft of the file as he grasped it, he pulled it out and laid it on top of the desk. Taking off the hindering eyeglasses, he cracked the file open and began the tedious process of digging for information. He flipped through page after page until his arms grew tired. For a moment, he didn't think he would find anything. Another dead lead and more time away from my wife and children. He turned to another section, this one thicker than the rest of the folder. He hit pay dirt after a few arm exhausting turns. The first document that drew his attention was a disciplinary write-up. Fehr [he assumed] had written: Dannon was teaching a Criminal Procedure class and brought in a fully loaded handgun. He claimed that he was using it as a visual aid. When I tried to explain to him that it was dangerous, he laughed. The next few turns revealed several photocopied progress reports. Most of them were glowing reviews of a brilliant professor. However, they had revealed a slow decline dated up until about two months ago. Fehr had scrawled: Dannon's mental stability is questionable. A student saw him standing stark naked before a blackboard writing gibberish. His history denotes the loss of a wife and child. Recommend for immediate sabbatical or termination. Was this enough? He needed to get the file to Cody and Monica so they could decimate it. Donovan searched around for a portfolio folder and luckily found one in another drawer. He emptied its contents and stuffed the thick file inside. Moving with the same litheness, he left the dean's office and went back to his own. He realized with something close to a pang of horror that he had a class in thirty minutes. Somehow, some way, he would have to warn Loralei, but he had no time.
* * *
Although she wasn't hungry, Loralei wandered into the cafeteria with a bag of carrots. She snagged a bottle of water, paid for it, and walked toward the little table that she had selected as her very own territory. As she seated herself, her eyes scanned through the crowd and she spotted Donovan four tables over to the right. She remembered having lunch with him on her first day and smiled a little. His bravery must have increased tenfold for him to ever enter this place again. She settled back, trying not to draw attention to herself and absently began munching on a carrot stick. She tried, but failed, to keep her eyes off him. She was willing him to look her way, but knew it wasn't a good idea for him to do so. She focused her eyes downward and tried to concentrate on her carrots. Slight movement toward his table forced her to look up. Curiously, she watched as a super model'esque blonde approached his table [ugh…it almost brought back images of Ennui Principio]. He looked up at her as if he recognized her from somewhere. The blonde joined him at his table, doing all the little flirty things women did to get a man's attention: a subtle toss of the hair, a smile, and a coquettish giggle. And of course, her husband was taking it all in stride. Loralei felt two ways at once, amused and jealous. Part of her wanted to laugh it off as a 'who could blame her' stray thought. Yet, another part wanted to smack the giggling blonde twit. Back off, Claudia, she thought, he's a married man. After boring her eyes into the woman for a couple of minutes, she realized that she was a graduate student in the CJ department. She's all touchy feely, isn't she, Loralei thought as she watched the blonde put her hand comfortably on Donovan's arm. Okay, you turd, tell her to go away and leave you alone. I'll snatch the bitch bald if you don't. When she realized that "Claudia" wasn't going anywhere, she decided to split. She didn't want to watch the display. She wasn't afraid her husband would attack the blonde or anything, but it showed her what she was missing. Her eyes spied a tall wastebasket near their table. Hmmm. She gathered up her carrot bag and bottle and moved toward them. As she came closer, she could hear bits and pieces of their conversation. Oh yes, I consider myself a great cook. French cuisine is my specialty, "Claudia" cooed. Uh huh. I'll bet you cook really well, don't you sweetness, Loralei thought as she drew nearer still. Loralei couldn't see, but Donovan's attention became focused on her as she strolled casually behind the blonde. No, baby, don't, Donovan thought. Loralei's elbow hit the back of the blonde's head. SMACK. It's too late for don't.
"Shit," the blonde cried as her glass of iced tea spilled down the front of her pristine white shirt.
"Oh my gosh," Loralei uttered, horrified. "Oh darlin,' I didn't mean to bump into you like that. And your shirt. It's completely ruined!" Before she walked away, she focused her eyes on Donovan's face, noticing that he didn't know whether to laugh or choke her. "Oops. I suppose I ruined your nice lunch date. Sorry," she said as she left them.
* * *
That evening, Loralei lingered in her office. Angie wasn't expecting her to pick up the kids for another hour, and she took the time to catch up on a little paperwork. She was tempted to go to the library and search for Dannon again, but it would mean more aggravation and separation. She glanced up when she heard a soft rapping on her door. For the briefest of moments, she thought it might be Dannon, and a slice of fear entered her. Instead of calling out, she went over to the door and opened it. She smiled a little as she recognized her visitor.
"After hours, Mittel," she asked with a little smile.
He nodded. "Yeah." He had taken an incredible risk, but at the moment, he didn't give a damn.
She moved away from the door quickly so he could enter the room. When she had the door closed, she attempted to face him and made a fairly decent one eighty turn before she felt his hands on her arms. He pressed her body against the door, completing her turn for her. Before she had an opportunity to blink, speak, or breathe, he swooped in for a hungry kiss, effectively consuming her. Startled by the sudden move, she was immobile at first, but soon recovered enough to plunge her hands into his hair. A soft sound escaped her as his tongue entered her mouth to passionately plunder the inside of hers. After several breathtaking moments, he broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers.
"I've missed you so much," he whispered huskily, his eyes darkening with unrequited need.
"Have you," she asked with a smile. "Could have fooled me. You seemed pretty cozy with that blonde at lunch."
He chuckled. "You are evil, my love." He pulled back just a bit so he look down at her. "She was kind of hot," he said teasingly.
Loralei shook her head. Unbelievable. "Was she now?"
"Yeah, but she obviously had a drinking problem of some kind, didn't she," he asked with a mock accusatory tone tainting his voice. He sighed as if suddenly disinterested in her. "She was definitely a gorgeous, gorgeous woman, even with iced tea all over the front of her shirt. But you know," he said as his fingers began to work open the buttons on her blouse. "As hot as she was, there was only one woman on my mind, only one who I've wanted since first seeing her this morning." When the last button was undone, he drew the blouse off her shoulder. His lips and nibbling teeth found the delicate flesh at the side of her throat and down her shoulder.
"Really," she said as she closed her eyes tightly. "And who was that?"
"The blonde has a really hot friend," he said smiling against her skin.
She laughed. "You bastard."
"Thank you," he said.
"Frank," she whispered, "I want you."
"It's too risky," he said as his hand slid inside her opened blouse.
"I know," she moaned, "but I want you."
His lips switched sides. "I want you, too."
"You're right, though. It is too risky."
"No. I need you. I need you now."
The moment the words left his mouth, they worked furiously to rid their bodies of just enough clothing barriers to allow him to sink so very deeply inside her. Up against the door. Hard and heavy. Tremendous release.
* * *
Later, they sat together on the floor of Loralei's office as she silently thumbed through Dannon's personnel file. "Looks like he's our guy," she said.
"Exactly," he said, taking the file from her, "which means I don't want you near him, Loralei. You don't have to play detective any longer. Cody will dig around for everything he can. Jake and Alex have discovered that almost everybody heard about what happened to Dannon. He'll go after one of us, but I don't think it's you, not yet. Don't ask how I know that, because I can't explain it. The only thing I can say is that if he wanted you now, he would have struck already."
She nodded. "Okay. Are Jake and Alex going to watch Reed and Zimmerman?"
"Yes, but on the periphery. We don't want to scare him off. He has followed all of them home." He cupped her chin in his hand and gazed down into her eyes. "Keep your eyes and ears open."
"Always, my love," she whispered.
He kissed her gently and then drew her into his embrace. "I have to go. I love you, LD."
Without giving her a chance to reciprocate, he stood and left her. She sighed deeply and ran her fingers over her lips where his kiss still burned her. She wasn't quite finished playing detective just yet.