“You tossed her out?” Phil set his Coke can on the desk and frowned.

“Damn right I did.” Sam tucked his thumbs in the pockets of his lab coat as he paced Phil’s office. “You tell me how someone other than the police and you knew I had the cauldron. Jenna was the only one in and out of the lab who wasn’t an employee. She had to have mentioned it. Remember she works at an occult store. Perhaps she recognized the cauldron and is here to find out what we know.”

Phil appeared to ponder his comment. “A student could have seen the cops drag in a pink shrink wrapped pot.”

“Even if someone had noticed the cauldron being delivered, a casual passerby wouldn’t put a curse on me, and a casual passerby wouldn’t know I’d be the one assigned to check out the cauldron.” Sam couldn’t stop pacing.

“Do you have any proof of Jenna’s involvement?”

Before Sam could come up with a good response, Gina breezed in. “Dinner.”

Phil’s face brightened. “Thanks.” He took the plate of meats and fruits and placed it on his lap. The tempting aroma reminded Sam he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Gina stood behind Phil. The two looked like a solid team, but they couldn’t have been more different. Phil had on his pale blue buttoned down shirt with the HOPEFAL logo and beige slacks that blended in with pasty white skin. Gina wore skin-tight black pants and a low cut red top that contrasted well with her ebony skin.

Sam still hadn’t figured out their relationship. He’d heard Gina’s dad had been Phil’s captain when he worked at the sheriff’s department, and Gina had confided in Sam that she’d been a history teacher before deciding she wanted to be a cop. After Phil was shot apprehending a killer, she gave up her aspirations to go into law enforcement and agreed to help Phil run this lab.

Phil looked up at Gina and smiled, and a small surge of envy surfaced at their tight relationship. He thought he and Tammy had been tight too, until she turned on him with no apparent remorse. He’d been used, plain and simple.

“I hear you have a new girlfriend,” Gina said.

Not again. “Hardly a girlfriend, or even a friend. I think she’s a plant, though I don’t know her agenda.”

Her brows creased. “What happened?” Gina stepped from behind Phil and perched a hip on the edge of Phil’s desk, showing off a long, lean leg.

“Ask Phil, who hopefully will find out what he can about this chick. She’s dangerous.”

Sam knew his response was rude, but he wasn’t very rational when it came to women.

Carla leaned over the bathroom sink and wiped her mouth with a rough paper towel. She’d vomited every day for the last week and knew why after last night’s test. She grabbed her stomach. The bastard who’d raped had gotten her pregnant. While having a child was a dream come true, she didn’t want to have a baby under these circumstances. She was single, only twenty-three, and had dreamed of falling in love with Mr. Right.

Her parents had drilled into her that Catholics didn’t get abortions. To make matters worse, her attacker had been black. That alone would kill her folks when or if they ever found out. Her older sister went missing six months ago, and Carla doubted they could handle any more grief.

She’d have to keep her problem from them until after the baby was born, and then give the child up for adoption. She sniffled and swiped a tissue across her nose. Enough. Suck it up, Carla. What’s past is past.

She peered into the mirror to see if any telltale sign of her vomit episode showed. Other than her red eyes, she appeared normal—well as normal as she could be. Once she redid her ponytail, she headed out of the bathroom.

As she turned right to head back to her office, she bumped into a wall of a man. He grabbed her upper arms, probably to steady her, but the restriction caused a need-to-flee so strong her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. She pushed away from her attacker and nearly tumbled on her butt. Somehow, the man managed to catch her before she hit the floor.

“Excuse me,” the mystery man said in an unexpectedly soothing voice. His tone didn’t sound anything like the man who’d attacked her, nor was he an African American, but that didn’t matter. Her distrust of men had hit a high a few months ago.

He searched her face. “Are you okay?”

Carla took a deep breath. “I think so.” Stupid. All men weren’t bad, just the one who’d violated her.

“You look pale,” he said. “I’ll walk you back to your office.”

Carla couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bothered to help her. Most people called her four eyes, geeky, or gawky. She couldn’t help it if she was good at math and computer science.

“Sure. Okay.” She didn’t need help finding her way down the hall, but she’d been stupid to turn down his offer. He was a hunk with a capital H. “My office is the last one on the right.”

He walked close beside her, acting as though she might stumble at any moment. They stopped at the office entrance, and she turned to face him. It was almost like a date. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Her door nameplate was glued next to the door. “Carla Pendowski.”

“That’s me.” She smiled and waited for him to say something inappropriate about her nationality since she’d spent her childhood being the butt of Polish jokes.

Instead, he smiled back. “Chance Tavares. Nice to meet you.”

“Chance. What a wonderful name.” Maybe she’d get lucky. Ha. Ha. Not going to happen.

For a moment, he almost looked uncomfortable. They shook hands, hands that were warm with slightly callused palms and strong fingers. He was definitely all male.

Before Carla could come up with something pithy to say, the tall stud placed a hand on the small of her back, and she nearly swooned from the intimate contact. It must be the dehydration or the ranging hormones that were affecting her equilibrium.

He led her over to her desk and pulled out her chair. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” While she wanted to say something smart sounding, her mind came up blanker than a zero megabit file. “So what brings you here to the lab?” Oh, that was exciting.

“I just started working here with Dr. Eric Markowitz.”

“You’re working for Eric, huh. I’m sorry.”

He laughed, and then pulled up a chair. “Why do you say that?” He winked. “Give me some dirt.”

Her heart beat faster. Why was he bothering with her? He was so cute. “He’s a stickler about everything.”

“Cool. He’ll help make me be a better pathologist.”

What a great attitude. Carla wanted to tell him he had the most beautiful dark brown eyes, but she wasn’t good talking to drop dead gorgeous men—especially ones with fit bodies. She wished her body didn’t have all those bumps and lumps, but that’s what she deserved from sitting at a computer all day.

Feet pounded outside her office and Sam rushed in. Chance jumped up. “What’s wrong, Sam?”

“Carla, who gave you the letter?”

“I told you I saw it on the front desk. Harold was somewhere else, so I picked it up. Why?” Surely he wasn’t freaked out over the note now.

“I went out to the parking lot to retrieve something from my car, and I found my car windshield broken.”

She gasped. “It’s the curse.”

Carla and Chance rushed after Sam as he sped outside. Both acted as though he might punch out someone—and he’d been tempted. Actually, he’d been more tempted to yell at Harold for leaving his station.

Two cops were stationed next to his car, filling out paperwork. Fixing the windshield would put a strain on his already tight budget, and he needed his car in case Mrs. Delansky had a doctor’s appointment or required her prescription to be refilled.

“You have any idea who would do this?” one of the officers asked. “An aggravated student perhaps?”

Sam ran through the list of names in his class. “No.” He was damned if he was going to mention the cursed note. After the cops copied down his insurance information, they told him they’d follow up.

“That’s all?” Sam wanted the perpetrator caught—now.

“Sir, we’ll let you know when we find out something. The rock on the seat looks like it came from that flowerbed over there. We won’t be able to get prints off a surface that rough.”

Same lame excuse they gave him when his wife called to complain about someone trying to break into their house.

Carla touched his shoulder. “Come on. There’s nothing more you can do out here. The vandal isn’t going to walk up and admit he did this.” She looked around the campus, acting as if the window smasher was hiding in the bushes. Her eyes watered and she swallowed hard.

“You nervous about something?” Sam asked. He shouldn’t have freaked over a broken window. Sheesh Carla seemed to be the one chasing a bigger demon.

“Heck yes, I’m nervous.” She turned to Chance. “I want to go back inside. Curses are bad things.” She whispered the last sentence.

For a scientist, she believed in this New Age stuff a little too much. To make matters worse, Chance seemed to side with Carla. He and his friend needed to have a talk.

The moment his two cohorts disappeared, Jenna stepped out from behind the bushes, as if she’d been lying in wait. “Hey.”

“Jenna, what are you doing here?”

Her bottom chin wobbled a little. “I go to school here, remember?”

She wasn’t studying botany. “Someone broke my car windshield. You know anything about that?” He hated himself for his cruel tone, but she always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Her brow furrowed. “No. Why would I?”

“You’ve been here a while, right?”

A genuine look of surprise crossed her face. “Not really.”

Jenna was involved somehow; he could sense it. “Didn’t you tell me you used to play softball in high school?” When he’d walked her out of the lab, the topic of her high school athletic career had popped up.

“Yeah, so?”

“Someone just threw an ace shot through my window with a big fat rock.”

Her mouth dropped opened. “And you think I would do that to you? You’re shittin’ me, right?” He winced at her foul language.

“I’m deadly serious.”

“What’s my motivation?” She held out very clean hands. His pulse lowered, but she could have used some wipes to clean off the dirt.

“How the hell should I know?” She planted her hands on her hips, and then lowered her arms just as suddenly. “Look, I’m sorry someone harmed your property. I have a cousin who does real good car window repair work. Would you like me to call him?”

“No.” He did, but he didn’t want to be indebted to her.

“Did you call the sheriff’s department at least?”

“The campus police are taking care of it.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Do? Wait for the cops to find out who did this.” If history meant anything, he’d be waiting a long time.

Jenna smiled. “Have you eaten?”

Sam couldn’t believe her moxie. He was about to say no, when his traitorous stomach growled. Again.

She tugged his arm. “Come on. My treat.”

The word treat enticed him, but he wanted to investigate Jenna more thoroughly before he gave into her sexy ways. “Another time.” He pulled out of her grasp.

She cast her gaze downward. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot. I need to talk to you about something.”

“I’m not interested in what you have to say.” With that he strode toward HOPEFAL’s entrance and disappeared inside.

“You’ll be sorry,” she called after him as the door clicked close.

Sam’s back stiffened. He wanted to believe she was the innocent woman she portrayed, but his sixth sense told him she was up to something. Instead of heading to his office, he went to speak with Carla. When he reached her office, Chance wasn’t around. Good. Her pale skin didn’t look healthy. “You okay?”

“Oh, hi, Sam. Sure thing.”

Liar, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss her issues today. He had his hands full with Jenna. He pulled up a chair. “Do me a favor?”

“You know I will.”

He needed to buy her something special to thank her for helping him so often. “I want all the information you can dig up on Deidra Willows, the store in Ybor called Botanica, as well as Jenna Richman.”

Her fingers stopped typing and she looked up at him. “Jenna? You want me to spy on your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Carla winked. “Oh. Okay. But it’s going to cost you.”