Allie shouldn’t care what he did with his dating life, but all the same, her heart blossomed with hope that Sam hadn’t been seduced by Meredith’s charms—not then and not now. “I’m sure you can figure out something.” She smiled brightly. “Think about all the inside information you could get for your book.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
…
After Sam left Allie in the newsroom, he headed back to his own classroom, bemused by his discovery. How had he never realized that the bright, shining expression fifteen year old Allie—or had she been sixteen by then?—had worn on her young face whenever she greeted him that last year on the school paper was…love?
He wouldn’t be a man if hearing that tidbit didn’t stroke his ego just a bit. He’d been blind, evidently. But he had also been caught up in his own issues back then—his parents’ cold, unhappy marriage and his desire to get away from them, everything pinned on his acceptance to his dream college—UC Berkeley.
Hearing Allie’s description of herself really angered him. Her skewed perception likely had everything to do with how the people around her treated her, made her see herself. People who should have loved her, nurtured her. God, it was a miracle that she had grown up to be the sexy, smart, and confident woman she was now.
A woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.
Even with all the other pressing concerns involving his mother’s health, finding out who was behind Mr. Williams’s murder, and the recent spate of “accidents,” Allie was still uppermost on his mind.
And to discover that, once upon a time, she’d had a huge crush on him, gave him a deeper satisfaction than he would have expected. She’d been in love him. Her first?
A strange wave of possession swept over him. Maybe it had always been there, but he recognized it more firmly now. He wanted to protect her from further hurt.
He’d better get busy then. He slipped his cell phone from his back pocket and, despite his dread, dialed the number.
“Sam, I was just thinking of you,” Meredith’s confident, sexy voice greeted him.
Damn, talking to this woman was the last thing he wanted to be doing right now. Or ever, really.
But he would.
For Allie.
Chapter Twelve
Hail peppered her classroom windows, joining the rain pounding against them. It made for a grim Tuesday afternoon. This weather had better not last through the rest of the week, or Allie was going to have a miserable Sunday entertaining the whole clan for Vi’s birthday barbecue inside her small house.
She was grading essay papers when a masculine voice came from the doorway.
“Ahem.”
It irked her how quickly her day went from dreary to bright by Sam’s appearance. He was carrying a large FedEx box. How long has he been standing there?
Damn. There was that fluttering in her stomach again. From the dark shadow on his chin, he didn’t look like he’d shaved. Didn’t he know there was a dress code here? Sheesh.
“This was at the office for you when I stopped for my mail,” he said and gestured towards the box. “Ohio?”
“No way.” She jumped to her feet and dug around her top desk drawer until she found a pair of scissors and cut the tape. “It’s got to be from Jackson Williams’s sister.”
His brows shot up, and he looked at the box with curiosity. “Yeah?”
“The police had looked through everything before it was sent to her, so she didn’t see why I shouldn’t have it. Provided I send her one of the first videos.”
She pulled out the items lying on top. Pictures of Mr. Williams. One looked like a college graduation photo and another showed him teaching in front of a class.
Just as she remembered him.
Even from these two-dimensional pictures, she could see how the kids were engaged by the energy and passion on his young face. He’d only been thirty-one when he disappeared. The same age Allie was now.
Her stomach dropped when she saw the old coffee mug that Mr. Williams had carried everywhere, earning laughter from the students when they saw what was printed on it: World’s Goodest Teacher. She set that aside and saw mounds of papers, not in any type of order. She’d have to look at those later. There was a VHS tape, too, and she picked it up. The label on the side read, Crimson Press Outtakes. Anticipation coursed through her as she thought of the gold mine this might turn out to be. Actual video of Mr. Williams.
“I feel like a kid in a candy store.” She glanced up at Sam, who was still looking at the picture she’d handed him of Mr. Williams teaching in front of the class. “What do you think?”