Page 159 of Vacancy

Dr. Thornburg glanced up as I approached. “You can go ahead and head up to my office right upstairs,” he said, as he accepted my stapled papers and filed them into a folder. “I’ll meet you as soon as I get the last one of these.”

“Okay.” I nodded and pulled up my phone as I left the room. Shaking off the heebie-jeebies, I told myself I was in public. Nothing was going to happen.

Change of plans,

I texted Damien, knowing he was going to shit bricks if I wasn’t waiting right at the front door when he got here after his own class.

Dr. Thornburg wanted to talk to me, so I’m going to be just upstairs in his office. But I’ll still meet you at the front door as soon as I’m done.

I tucked my phone away before he responded, knowing he’d see it soon enough with how often he kept contacting me. Then, I hooked my book bag strap over my shoulder as I found the stairs and hiked up to Dr. Thornburg’s office.

I didn’t know which one was his, but the assistant pointed the way and told me it was okay to go on in and have a seat.

I nodded and bit my lip as I approached the door. A sign hung from the wall next to the entrance, congratulating him for ten years of service at the university.Ten years, I paused before forcing myself to step inside, feeling as if I were infiltrating a murderer’s lair.

I sat uneasily in the chair in front of his desk, hoping he’d arrive soon, so we could get this over with. Tapping my knee, I glanced around and settled my gaze on the picture on his desk. It was of him with two young kids and what looked like a wife.

Pretty family.

Didn’t answer what he wanted to talk to me about, though.

Gaze moving on, I paused at the nameplate next to the photograph and immediately sat upright in alarm.

His name was Dr. J. T. Thornburg.

Starting to think my paranoia might be warranted, I pressed a hand to my chest as my heartbeat sped up. My attention started to dart everywhere.

The first initial of his first name was J. He was married. He’d worked here for exactly ten years. And he wanted me to stay late after class totalk.

That’s when something Thalia had said the very first time I’d met her filtered back through my memory.

You know, there’s a hot, young professor that just started this year, teaching Technical Writing.

I bet she’d been talking about Thornburg.

Had she actuallyknownhim, though? Or started an affair with him? Then been murdered by him?

I wasn’t sure. But I was starting to really freak out.

Surging to my feet, I decided I didn’t need to know why he wanted to speak with me. But when I whirled around to leave, there he was, right in the doorway, stepping inside.

I gasped and pulled up short.

He didn’t notice, his attention was down as he flipped through some files.

“Thanks so much for staying behind,” he started before he even glanced up. When he did, he only sucked in a sympathetic breath and added, “Ouch. That’s a nasty scrape you have there.”

I froze and touched my cheek as he walked past me to sit behind his desk.

Feeling like I couldn’t leave now unless I wanted to look like a freak, I slowly sank back into my chair. “Uh, yes, sir. I…I tripped. Over a shoe. Got some major carpet burn.”

“I’ll say.” He sat down the file, plus his briefcase satchel, on his desk before pointing at his own eyes. “I whipped up a neat little shiner myself. Was playing ball with my kid last night, and he got me right here.”

I blinked, focusing on the spot he pointed to. I never would've noticed it before, but yeah… He did have a slight bruise…right where someone might’ve kicked him when he was trying to drag them out from under a bed.

Fear skated up the back of my spine, and I silently tried to ease my phone from my pocket so I could text an SOS to Damien.

“So have you ever considered tutoring?” he asked, jarring me from my spiraling thoughts.

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