Murder on Lovers' Lane (Brody and Hannigan Mysteries) by Paula Graves Read Free Book Online Page B

to gauge whether or not he was trying to tease her.  He looked deadly serious.  "What did she do?"
    "Nothing overt, exactly.  But I wasn't born yesterday."
    "You probably think every woman wants you, Brody."  
    And he wouldn't be entirely wrong.
    Brody slanted a look her way.  "Not every woman."
    Heat rose up her neck. She had to clear the lump from her throat before she could speak.  "What exactly did Dr. Flanders say or do that convinced you she was hitting on you?"
    "Well, for one thing, she spoke in pretty blatant sexual innuendo."  He told her what the professor had said about coming prepared to participate next time.  
    "That sounds innocent enough," Hannigan disagreed.
    "You didn't hear her tone.  You didn't see the look in her eyes."
    "And maybe you were prone to reading sexual innuendo into her words," Hannigan pointed out, trying not to sound waspish.  "You clearly find her attractive.  Any man would."
    "I wasn't looking for a come on," Brody protested.  "There's a difference between seeing a woman's sexual attractiveness and wanting that sexuality focused on you."
    She lifted one eyebrow. "Did you feel violated, Brody?  Should we file a harassment charge?"
    "I'm serious.  Think about how she dresses, Hannigan.  How she sits.  How she crosses her leg, so slowly.  So deliberately."
    " You've noticed it, certainly."  She sounded more snappish than she'd intended, earning another glance from her partner.
    "There are such things as female serial killers," he said.  "I know they're rarer than men, but—"
    "A woman hit on you—ergo she must be a serial killer?"
    "The hitting on me is just a symptom," he said, sounding frustrated by her skepticism.  "She sexualizes everything. Have you ever had an American Lit teacher bring Fanny Hill into her discussion of Puritan literature?"
    She thought back to her college days.  "Um, no."
    "She dresses provocatively.  She speaks provocatively.  She enjoys the sexual attentions of her male students."
    "Some of the females seem to think she's hot, too," Hannigan drawled.
    "Exactly."
    "But how does that make her a potential serial killer?"
    "The people who are dead are people who skipped her class to go make out with other people.   I checked—all the murders took place on nights the class was in session, except Morehead's.  And they all took place after the class would have been over."  Brody turned toward her, vibrating with restless energy.  "What if she can't bear the thought that someone would choose another person over time spent in her class with her?  What if she considers it a personal rejection?"
    Hannigan tried to follow his train of thought, but she couldn't get past how attentively he seemed to have watched the professor crossing and uncrossing her legs.  "Why is Morehead the exception, then?  Why go after him if he wasn't skipping class?"
    "I don't know. It's something to think about, anyway."  Brody sat back against his seat with a sigh.  A few minutes later, he turned and looked at her again.  "Did you ever skip class for a guy, Hannigan?"
    "I've made my share of bad choices for the sake of a guy," she said.
    "Were they really bad choices?"  In the darkness, Brody's voice took on a seductive edge.  She tried not to look at him, but she couldn't help herself.
    He was watching her, his eyes dark and glittering in the pale blue moonlight drifting through the Chevy's windshield.  With no floor console between them to pose a barrier, he was closer to her than she expected.
    Was that why she'd wanted to take her car this time?  To remove the barriers between them?
    "You have to have priorities."  The lack of conviction in her voice made her want to go hide. 
    "All work and no play make Hannigan a dull girl."
    She looked at him again, tension knotting so tightly in her belly that it ached.  "Do you think I'm dull?"
    He held her gaze with the ferocity of his regard.  "No."
    "I've heard it said I'm a humorless automaton."
    "Not