Dead on Her Feet (An Antonia Blakeley Tango Mystery Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

they finally buried you.
    But the Marine in him could never let it go.
    Morrow stood up. The rain was coming down hard now. Pretty soon they’d both be soaked.
    “I’ll find out,” he promised.
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER 5
    Humiliation
     
    CHRISTIAN COOKERLY LOOKED OUT of his remaining good eye at the campus security officer and willed himself not to cry. His interrogator had been trying to get him to “own up to his offenses,” while they contacted his “responsible party.” Crap. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
    They were holding him in the basement of the administration building which stank like some animal had died and been left to putrefy. They’d parked him at a metal table for over two hours in the most uncomfortable chair imaginable. The officer, some crosswalk-checking, parking ticket–giving punk in a pseudo cop uniform, was downing a Coke. The only thing they’d given him was a cup of water from the drinking fountain and a paper towel so he could put something cold on his face. Massively unfair.
    He’d just wanted to be near her. She’d been at lunch in the cafeteria. Normally she was surrounded and he kept his distance but summer finals had just ended and some of the students had gone home. This time he’d sat just a few tables away, pretending to study, but really watching her. What would she do if she caught him looking at her? Maybe she’d smile. Say hello. The last thing he remembered was some neanderthal in a Yellow Jackets jersey yelling what are you staring at, you little prick, and a fist the size of a bowling ball coming straight at him.
    When Ant finally blew in to the room like some human weather front, he tried to smile, but it hurt his jaw.
    She marched over, took one look at him, and cocked her head. “Are you okay, honey?”
    The campus security officer didn’t even give him a chance to answer. “Your nephew was involved in an altercation.”
    Ant pressed her palm to his forehead like he was some kid with a fever. Embarrassing beyond belief. “Any vomiting? Dizziness?”
    “Ms. Blakeley, I’m afraid your nephew’s been stalking one of our female students—”
     “Officer, I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” Ant said it in the sugary way that meant she was getting POed, but the officer was too dense to notice.
    “Turner, ma’am.”
     “I know you have your job to do but I’m sure you’ll agree our first priority should be to make sure Christian doesn’t have a concussion.”
    “I’m fine,” Christian mumbled, trying to ignore the throbbing in his temples. Normally he enjoyed having Ant fuss over him; nobody else ever paid him any attention. But the last thing he wanted right now was to look weak in front of some asshole with a fake military badge.
    Officer Turner said, “He broke into the registrar’s computer system to find out her schedule for the fall session. He’s admitted to following her on several occasions.”
    Christian muttered, “I just said I sometimes went to her classes.”
    Ant straightened up and addressed Turner directly. “There’s a big difference between hovering and harassing. Believe me, I know, I was married. What about this girl, what’s her name? What does she have to say?”
    He’d just wanted to get to know her a little first before he talked to her, that’s all. Courtenay Augenbroe came from Seal Beach, California and her birthday was November 27. She had signed up to take Construction Technology and Design Integration, French Literature, Medieval Architecture, and Introduction to Design Computing, which he wouldn’t be able to go to since it conflicted with his schedule, but sounded interesting. She liked fantasy novels and poetry, just like he did. Sometimes she wore flowing dresses that reminded him of Arwen in Lord of the Rings .
     Ant made herself at home in one the metal chairs at the table, crossed her legs, and started to play with her ponytail, a sign Christian knew from experience meant she was going to blow