She caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke and guessed he was the man in the shadows. So, he’d just happened to decide to walk his dog right now? Or did he have some other reason to want to approach her?

The dog whined and strained against the leash, and the man pulled him back a few inches.

“Hooch, no.”

She smiled at the dog, trying to appear calmer than she felt.

“I’m a friend of Cooper’s,” she lied. “You happen to know where he is?”

“Haven’t seen him in a couple days. You try his work?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Then I don’t know. Could be at the lab.”

“The lab?”

“The physics lab. Sometimes he gets in the zone and camps out there for days.”

“Oh. Good point.”

She felt her shoulders loosen a bit at the evidence that this guy did, in fact, know Cooper Collins at least enough to know that he was a graduate student.

She blew out a sigh, like she was merely inconvenienced and not frightened to be standing out here in the dark with a strange man. Usually, she wasn’t so paranoid with people, but yesterday had made her skittish. “Guess I’ll give him another call.”

She walked around Hooch and his owner, giving them both plenty of space. She returned to her car, glancing over her shoulder to make sure she was wasn’t being followed. She slid behind the wheel, locked the doors, and took a deep breath.

Well, that had been a waste of time.

Probably.

She’d learned that Cooper hadn’t been seen in a few days, and also that he sometimes got immersed in his work and didn’t come up for air.

So, maybe that explained why he was ducking her calls.

She should let it go. Or share her hunch with Brandon and then let it go. He was the detective, after all. But he’d probably give her a lecture for coming out here.

No, he’d definitely give her a lecture.

Leigh dropped her pepper spray into the cup holder and started the car. She was done playing detective, at least for now. She didn’t need any more hunches to follow or mysteries to unravel. What she needed was a long, hot bath and a good night’s sleep.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Brandon followed the sound of slack key guitar music into the crime lab. No sign of Jane, but the CSI he’d seen earlier in the week was crouched beside a mangled black bicycle collecting something with tweezers.

“Hey, is Jane around?”

The guy looked up from his work. “In the fume room,” he said, nodding toward a door behind him.

Brandon set down the cup of coffee he’d brought with him and took a minute to pull paper covers over his shoes so he wouldn’t get an earful about tracking debris. Then he crossed the garage, pausing to watch the CSI.