Particles of Murder (A Shadow of Death Romantic Suspense Series Book 1) by Charlotte Raine Read Free Book Online Page B

say. “But I just can’t.”
    He forces a smile before turning and leaving the store.
    Who needs magic when I can make men disappear just by speaking?

    * * *
    W hen I was a child , my father told me that success was composed of three elements: luck/circumstances, hard work, and the ability to focus on one goal until it was accomplished. In my life experience, I found his belief to be true. I had the circumstances of being raised in a family that put my studies first and also offered me a job that could help me pay for my education, but also work around tests and other important events. I worked hard through school and had an internship with a forensic scientist. I focused on this goal of becoming a trace evidence analyst, forgoing many of the expected social engagements other people my age were involved in.
    But now that my goal is accomplished, I’m not sure if it’s what I should have spent so much time focusing on.
    It’s not that I think I should have focused on having a family or friends. It’s that when I’m confronted with this death of a student and it’s being ignored because of time constraints and the murders of people who are considered more important, it feels like I haven’t succeeded. It feels like my life is a complete and utter failure.
    “There was also an incident at Tuskmirth College,” the radio hosts says.
    I turn up my radio as I stop at an intersection. I’ve just begun driving to my lab and the caffeine from my coffee hadn’t kicked in yet, but the mention of Tuskmirth College has jolted me a bit.
    The radio host continues, “A professor’s office had been ransacked. Nothing was reported stolen, but the campus police are looking into the incident since the door had been locked and it appeared that the office had been purposely turned into a mess. I’m pretty sure there are some college movies about this. It may not look like anything was stolen, but a student could have stolen some test answers or something to blackmail the professor.”
    “Wasn’t the professor in the English department?” the female co-host asks. “I’m fairly certain they don’t have tests in most English classes.”
    “Of course, they do,” he says. “With questions like, Who are two characters in Romeo and Juliet? But, yeah, it was from the English department, so at least we know it wasn’t from some important field of study that was going to cure cancer or create some new technology.”
    “Campus police also noted that this was an interesting occurrence because it’s the same office that a student died in a couple of days ago. You remember the one—Victoria Glassman. The police never released her cause of death.”
    I flip on my turn signal. They haven’t said anything about John, but there’s always the possibility that we tipped off a killer while we were questioning people. The last thing I need is his murder on my hands.

    * * *
    J ohn isn’t in his office, but after asking another professor next door, I find the English building and walk down the hallway until I hear his voice. I stop right outside the doorway, seeing him lean against his desk with a small stack of paper in his hand, talking to his students.
    “…and if you just clarify what you’re talking about a bit more, I think it would improve the story. Your metaphors are beautiful—I love the comparison between the ritual of communion and falling in love—but in some parts, it takes away from what’s actually happening in the story. You also tend to fill your stories with facts. I think you just become so involved in what you’re researching that you feel the need to put it all in the story, but it’s unnecessary. Seriously, though, Amanda. It’s a great story. I’m only critiquing it this way because I know you and I know you can make it better.”
    “Thank you so much, Dr. Zimmer,” a petite brunette in the second row of desks murmurs.
    His eyes flicker up as he notices me. “Uh, one minute, class. I need to talk to a