Twisted (Burbank and Parker 1)

“Better listen to her,” Mark Donaldson chimed in. “She’s ex-FBI. And if you think Tina’s tough, Ms. Burbank will body-slam you out the door.”

With grimaces and under-the-breath comments, the press filed out, followed by the stream of curious students.

Sloane waited until the crowd had dissipated. She then gestured to Mark that she’d be out in a minute, and retreated into the office, where she and Tina were now alone. Shutting the door behind her, she walked over to Tina, who was sitting stiffly at her desk, and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “How are you holding up?”

“Okay, I guess.” Tina forced a smile, but Sloane could see right through it. The poor girl was still shaky. “I’m a little overwhelmed by all this craziness. And I still feel like the whole thing was an out-of-body experience.”

“What about physically?”

“Physically, I’m fine, other than a minor flesh wound on my left shoulder. It happened when he first grabbed me and put that mega-knife across my throat. The cut stings like hell, but it’s not serious. The college medical center treated it, bandaged it up, and sent me home with some painkillers.”

“Mark said this happened yesterday.” Sloane stuck with the basics, until she could decide if Tina was ready to supply details. “Were you at your dorm?”

“No. I was out running. I do laps around Lake Ceva every morning at five-thirty. The guy came out of nowhere. He put that serious-looking blade across my throat, muttered something I couldn’t understand, then told me to shut up and come with him or he’d slit my throat.”

Tina proceeded to fill Sloane in on the next thirty seconds of self-defense, a spark of pride flashing in her eyes when she described the Krav Maga techniques she’d used to disarm her attacker and put him out of commission.

“Nice job,” Sloane commended. “I couldn’t have done it better.”

“Thanks. Anyway, I took off as soon as I knocked him off his feet,” Tina concluded. “I never knew I could run that fast.”

“Adrenaline. It’s a powerful tool when your life’s at stake.” Sloane was pleased to see Tina’s color coming back. “So you got back to your room and called the campus police?”

“The second I locked my door. Two armed cops came ASAP. So did three campus security officers—and half the students who live in my hall. My room was like a three-ring circus. I had my parents on the phone, pretty hysterical, and wall-to-wall people asking me for details. One of the security officers took me to the medical center so my wound could be treated, and so I could set up a counseling appointment for this morning. I was pretty freaked out. Then the security guy took me back to my dorm, where I answered as many of their questions as I could. Half of what I said is a blur. The whole day seemed surreal. Honestly? I just wanted the whole thing to go away.”

“That’s perfectly natural,” Sloane murmured. “You’d just gone through a traumatic experience.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t help when the news spread all over campus and suddenly reporters appeared and students I didn’t even know started coming up to me to get the gory details. I tried to duck everyone, but it was impossible. I came to the academy tonight hoping to get away from the mass pandemonium, and to have some normalcy and peace. Guess that wasn’t in the cards.” Tina dragged her fingers through her hair. “It’s weird. When I drove away from campus tonight, I looked over at Lake Ceva. The area where I was attacked is roped off. It looks more like an official crime scene on CSI than like real life.”

“It is an official crime scene,” Sloane reminded her. “Just because you were smart enough and skilled enough to get away doesn’t make the attack any less of a crime.” A careful pause. “Did you see the man who attacked you?”

Tina shook her head. “Not really. He was wearing a ski mask. I saw his build, his height, even a slit of his eyes. But not enough to identify him. And he only said a handful of words, all of them in a low, raspy voice. I couldn’t even make out a few of them.”

“Do you think he might have been another student?” Sloane asked.

“I don’t think so. He seemed older. His physique, his voice, even the way he moved. It wasn’t like he was a young guy. I could be wrong. But that was the impression I got.”

“You said you delivered a knee strike to his face, and that you connected with his nose. Was it bleeding badly?”

“Yeah, all over the place. It soaked through his mask and dripped onto the ground.”

“Good. Then there’ll be DNA evidence.”

“I can’t imagine otherwise.” Tina blew out a slow, calming breath. “The police did one of those mouth swabs on me for a DNA sample. This way, they’ll be able to differentiate his blood from mine. Although most of the blood was his. I only had blood on my shirt from where the cut oozed through, and a little bit on my hair clip.”

“Your hair clip?”

Tina nodded. “It came loose when we were struggling. It slid out of my hair, and bounced across my shirt as it fell. I remember noticing the bloodstain on it when it was lying on the grass.”

Sloane went very still as the commonalities clicked into place.

Two attempted kidnappings—one successful, one not. Both on college campuses. Both leaving behind either a bloodstained hair band or hair clip at the crime scenes. Both within a few weeks of each other. Both in the New York/New Jersey area.

Coincidence?

No way.

“He planned on drugging me,” Tina was continuing. “A hypodermic needle fell out of his pocket when I knocked him down. That and something else. I saw it go flying off into the woods.”