A Face to Die For (Forensic Instincts 6)

Three sessions were enough for her to go for it.

Right after Wednesday evening’s class, Emma walked up to Hanover’s desk and, with feigned nervousness, admitted that she was struggling with the coursework.

“That’s quite clear, Miss Lowe,” he’d replied in an icy tone.

Emma wanted to smack that smug look off his face. Instead she stayed on track. “I was hoping I could set up a meeting with you—at your convenience, of course—to help me catch up. I’m afraid I’m not up to your course expectations.”

“Correct.” His bold stare strayed up and down her body, after which he nodded. “Very well.” He checked his electronic schedule, then began packing up his briefcase. “I teach on Saturday mornings. I have an opening during my office hours this Saturday at noon. Be there.”

“Oh, yes, I will.” No hesitation on Emma’s part, although she was beginning to regret her promise to Ryan about no balls kicking. “I really appreciate it. I’ll be there.”

“Make sure you’re prompt.” With that, he strode out of the room.

“Prick,” Emma muttered under her breath.

“Emma,” Casey cautioned in her ear. “Cool it and keep doing your job. You’re almost there. With any luck, you can drop the course next week.”

“Can I drop Hanover on his head? Or better yet, on his dick? Hopefully, a good fall would snap it off.”

Casey couldn’t choke back her laughter. “Not to worry. I’m sure his fellow prisoners will be happy to oblige. Keep focusing on the end goal. Brianna will be safe, and Hanover will be behind bars.”

“You’re right.” Emma gathered up her things. “I’m getting something to eat. I’m starving. I’ll go to one of the local hangouts and check out the hot guys. Looking at eye candy will cheer me up. So will tomorrow, when I’ll go buy a new outfit for my Saturday meeting.”

“Nothing too revealing,” Casey cautioned her. She was still protective of Emma after the outcome of her femme fatale role in their last case. “Just something… nice.”

Emma well understood Casey’s concern. “Not to worry, boss. I promise to stay away from stuff that makes me look like I’ve been poured into it. All I need is something that will capture the scumbag’s attention—like a short skirt and a top that shows a little cleavage.”

“Not too much cleavage.”

“Yes, boss.” Emma grinned. “Why don’t you come shopping with me? It’ll make you feel better and it’ll be fun. I’ll even buy you lunch. Hey, it’s all going on the FI credit card. So the sky’s the limit.”

“Good night, Emma.”

“Is it a date?”

Casey found herself grinning again. “Yeah, it’s a date.”

* * *

At precisely twelve noon on Saturday, Emma stood in front of Hanover’s office door. She ran her fingers through her hair, simultaneously inspecting her appearance. A pale blue V-neck top and a matching flair skirt that showed just enough leg, along with heels that were high enough to draw attention to her exposed skin. A tote bag rather than a backpack. Definitely a soft, feminine package.

“Ready for action,” she muttered to Casey and Ryan.

“Piece of cake, Kate,” Ryan replied in her ear. “Just find some target items and then get the hell out of there.”

“Believe me, I’m not planning on hanging around.”

She switched into Kate mode and knocked.

“Yes?” Hanover’s cold response could have iced over the hallway.

Pasting a nervous expression on her face, Emma slowly opened the door, pausing before taking a step inside. “Dr. Hanover?” The jerk was sitting behind his desk, wearing a sports coat and dress shirt, sitting as regally as if he were a king on his throne, and writing notes on students’ papers as if he were issuing edicts. “I’m here for our appointment.”

He put down his work and turned his stare on Emma, swiftly eyeing her from head to toe—lingering a second or two on her breasts—in a way that made her want to take a shower.

“Come in and shut the door,” he said. “Standing there like a terrified child won’t get you a passing grade.”

Yeah, but unzipping your fly and taking care of you will, Emma thought with an internal shudder of revulsion.