up because of the flu .”
“Gavin, why do you keep saying it that way?”
“What way?”
“As if they don’t really have the flu.”
“I ain’t saying nothing,” Gavin says. “I ain’t no narc.”
“Gavin,” I say. “You grew up in the suburbs and now attend a major private nonsectarian American college in New York City. It doesn’t sound natural when you use double negatives.”
“Harsh,” Gavin responds.
A knock sounds on Jasmine’s door.
“I have to go,” I say, getting up to answer it. “Send the group text. And tell them if I hear about any RA faking sick, there’s going to be major trouble.”
“Oh, trust me,” Gavin says. “They ain’t faking.” He hangs up.
So do I, then open Jasmine’s door. I expect to see men and women in blue from the Sixth Precinct standing in the hallway.
But that’s not who it is.
6
Five Tips for Writing Your Wedding Vows
Waiting till the last minute to write those vows? Don’t panic! Answer these questions and you’ll come up with the perfect thing to say to that special someone on your special day:
How did you two meet?
I was his brother’s fiancée.
What hobbies do the two of you share?
Solving murders.
How does he react in times of crisis?
He shoots someone.
What made you fall in love in the first place?
He’s hot and makes me laugh.
What do you plan to name your children?
Who wrote this stupid quiz?
I got your boss to her apartment,” Cooper says gruffly by way of greeting. He immediately fills the small room with his strong masculine energy. “And that dog of hers too. I left her on her couch with her phone and a couple of bottles of ginger ale. You should call her husband to let him know how sick she is. I doubt she’s told him.”
He goes straight to Jasmine’s bed to peer down at the dead girl. “Christ, Heather. Are they getting younger or are we getting older? This one looks like she’s barely twelve years old. Are you sure she isn’t sleeping?”
“I’m sure,” I say. “Cooper, thanks for coming up to check on me, but the police are going to get here any minute. You’re probably getting DNA all over the place. And you know not everyone on campus likes you as much as I do, especially since you shot that guy over the summer.”
He looks hurt. “I got named Hot Stud of the Week by New York College Express, the daily student news blog, for doing that.”
“I know,” I say sympathetically. “And while they and I personally appreciated it very much, especially since you saved my life, I still think you’d better go. There’s that anti-gun-violence group on campus. They complain anytime anyone uses a gun, even against someone who deserves it.”
He ignores me, looking around Jasmine’s room. “Any sign that someone was in here last night when she died?”
I shake my head. “Sarah says everything was exactly like this when she arrived—and I want to keep it that way, so don’t touch anything.”
He gives me a sour look. “Who do you think you’re dealing with here? This is what I do for a living.”
“I thought you make your living sneaking into hotel rooms and planting hidden cameras to take pictures of people cheating on their spouses.”
“Well, that too,” he says, with a shrug of his big shoulders.
“Everything was exactly like this except that her computer was on—” I point to a laptop on Jasmine’s desk. “It was playing a song list set on repeat. Sarah switched it off in order to call the office, so she could hear me. That’s it.”
Cooper walks over to the desk, leaning down to look at the computer. “Weird that someone would have music playing when they’re trying to fall asleep.”
“Weird for you,” I say. “You live in your own multimillion-dollar brownstone. Try living in a noisy dorm, especially on a floor with a lot of new students across the hall, away from home for the first time. Lots of people in that situation can’t sleep without music playing. It drowns
“Gavin, why do you keep saying it that way?”
“What way?”
“As if they don’t really have the flu.”
“I ain’t saying nothing,” Gavin says. “I ain’t no narc.”
“Gavin,” I say. “You grew up in the suburbs and now attend a major private nonsectarian American college in New York City. It doesn’t sound natural when you use double negatives.”
“Harsh,” Gavin responds.
A knock sounds on Jasmine’s door.
“I have to go,” I say, getting up to answer it. “Send the group text. And tell them if I hear about any RA faking sick, there’s going to be major trouble.”
“Oh, trust me,” Gavin says. “They ain’t faking.” He hangs up.
So do I, then open Jasmine’s door. I expect to see men and women in blue from the Sixth Precinct standing in the hallway.
But that’s not who it is.
6
Five Tips for Writing Your Wedding Vows
Waiting till the last minute to write those vows? Don’t panic! Answer these questions and you’ll come up with the perfect thing to say to that special someone on your special day:
How did you two meet?
I was his brother’s fiancée.
What hobbies do the two of you share?
Solving murders.
How does he react in times of crisis?
He shoots someone.
What made you fall in love in the first place?
He’s hot and makes me laugh.
What do you plan to name your children?
Who wrote this stupid quiz?
I got your boss to her apartment,” Cooper says gruffly by way of greeting. He immediately fills the small room with his strong masculine energy. “And that dog of hers too. I left her on her couch with her phone and a couple of bottles of ginger ale. You should call her husband to let him know how sick she is. I doubt she’s told him.”
He goes straight to Jasmine’s bed to peer down at the dead girl. “Christ, Heather. Are they getting younger or are we getting older? This one looks like she’s barely twelve years old. Are you sure she isn’t sleeping?”
“I’m sure,” I say. “Cooper, thanks for coming up to check on me, but the police are going to get here any minute. You’re probably getting DNA all over the place. And you know not everyone on campus likes you as much as I do, especially since you shot that guy over the summer.”
He looks hurt. “I got named Hot Stud of the Week by New York College Express, the daily student news blog, for doing that.”
“I know,” I say sympathetically. “And while they and I personally appreciated it very much, especially since you saved my life, I still think you’d better go. There’s that anti-gun-violence group on campus. They complain anytime anyone uses a gun, even against someone who deserves it.”
He ignores me, looking around Jasmine’s room. “Any sign that someone was in here last night when she died?”
I shake my head. “Sarah says everything was exactly like this when she arrived—and I want to keep it that way, so don’t touch anything.”
He gives me a sour look. “Who do you think you’re dealing with here? This is what I do for a living.”
“I thought you make your living sneaking into hotel rooms and planting hidden cameras to take pictures of people cheating on their spouses.”
“Well, that too,” he says, with a shrug of his big shoulders.
“Everything was exactly like this except that her computer was on—” I point to a laptop on Jasmine’s desk. “It was playing a song list set on repeat. Sarah switched it off in order to call the office, so she could hear me. That’s it.”
Cooper walks over to the desk, leaning down to look at the computer. “Weird that someone would have music playing when they’re trying to fall asleep.”
“Weird for you,” I say. “You live in your own multimillion-dollar brownstone. Try living in a noisy dorm, especially on a floor with a lot of new students across the hall, away from home for the first time. Lots of people in that situation can’t sleep without music playing. It drowns
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