Good, Clean Murder by Traci Tyne Hilton Page B

her
Birkenstocks, and one pair of high heels. She ran her pencil down the list.
That looked exhaustive. And pathetic. But she had needed to keep her
possessions to a minimum. She did not need a bunch of first world baggage in
the 10/40 window.
    She was still
staring at her list, bouncing her thoughts between facing down the bully
landlord and what could be keeping Phoebe from coming to the house when Sarah
sat on the desk.
    “Earth to Jane.
You have a serious case of senior-itis.”
    “How can I? This
place doesn’t have ‘seniors.’”
    “It’s a great
mystery, but either way, our lecturer stares at you for hours at a time and you
ignore everything he says.”
    Heat rose to
Jane’s cheeks. She looked up to see if he was anywhere near them.
    “It’s okay, he
took a call in the hallway. What’s up with you two? The last two classes, you
two couldn’t keep your eyes off of each other and then tonight you hardly know
he’s alive.”
    “Nothing’s ‘up.’
I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”
    “What is so
important that you can’t make time for a hot guy like Mr. Daniels?”
    Jane tried to
suppress a smile. Mr. Daniels. She called him Isaac, herself. “Did I not
tell you that I was evicted because my roommate stole my rent money instead of
paying it and now the landlord has all of my worldly possessions under lock and
key?”
    “You are kidding!”
    “I’m not. It is
pretty bad. I have a place to stay right now—as a housekeeper, but I’d kind of
like to get all of my stuff back, you know?”
    “I can imagine, at
least.”
    Jane laid her hand
over her suspect notes. “I admit though, the attractive lecturer has distracted
me from making any progress.”
    Sarah’s eyes
popped open wide and her mouth made a little “o.” She shook her head in a tiny
motion. Jane’s heart dropped. It was that shocked-but-laughing look people get
when someone you are talking about is right behind you.
    Jane raised an
eyebrow.
    Sarah looked over
her shoulder, but turned her head as though following someone with her eyes.
Then she let out a long breath. “He passed. I don’t think he heard you.”
    “I’m probably a
really big idiot.” Jane picked up her pen and tapped it on her page of notes.
    “No, I can assure
you, as an expert at seeing who digs who, however attractive you find Mr.
Daniels, he thinks the same, but double, about you.”
    The smile snuck
back on Jane. Her heart did a little flip. She held the same opinion, after
their coffee earlier in the week, but they hadn’t been calling or texting or
any of the other things people do when they like each other, so she had begun
to think she was imagining it. Of course, they hadn’t exchanged phone numbers,
but that was a part of her disappointment.
    Sarah stood up.
“Stay at your desk after everyone leaves. He always walks out of class
immediately after you do. This time, just don’t leave.”
    Jane nodded.
    The rowdy
students, hopped up on coffee from the cart in the lounge, seemed like they’d
never leave at the end of lecture. Isaac had been in the middle of a lively
conversation with several of them. It didn’t seem to Jane that he had noticed
her waiting. While she debated on paper whether to call her parents over the
weekend, when she knew they’d be back from the cruise, Isaac and the students
she thought of as “kids” argued over the L in John Calvin’s TULIP. As far as
Jane was concerned John 3:16 said God so loved the world so there
couldn’t be any limit to his atonement. She was glad to hear that was the side
Isaac took as well.
    “You just believe
what your seminary taught you,” an eighteen-year-old Calvinist called Duncan
said. He thumped his Bible with his knuckles. “If you took the Bible literally
the way you claim you do, you couldn’t deny that Christ’s atonement isn’t for
everyone. Jeesh, all you have to do is look around and see that not everyone is
saved.”
    “You are confusing
your L and your U, Duncan.