She struggled to put the handsome interloper out of her head; however, faithless memory lingered on a rakish face softened for a moment with an insolent grin.

When she caught her hand on its way to her mouth, Erin wrenched her focus back to the present, but traitorous flutters trembled in her belly.

This is nonsense, she lectured herself sternly. A strange man lurking in the back of her classroom should not be so … affecting. She’d seen attractive men before.

Gorgeous, a traitorous voice countered. The reason heaven gave us denim.

Muffling a sigh of appreciation for the artisans who first made jeans, Erin returned her attention to her students. With a concerted effort, she finished her final lecture for Murder 101. After two more classes and an exam period, the summer would begin.

She absently nodded to the students as they filed past, turning in take-home tests. Rather than the quiet murmurs that usually greeted the end of class, pleased chatter filled the room. And they’d wildly applauded her announcement that final papers weren’t due until the last day of final exams. Though the semester ended on Friday, she understood students enough to know that most hadn’t started their projects and would need the extra time to finish. But with other, more disturbing matters on her mind, she wasn’t in a hurry to read amateur rationales for criminal behavior.

Not when she had a real mystery in her briefcase. Standing at her desk, she quickly accepted the exams, half listening to the sounds of students in the background as they talked about the evil of finals, summer break plans, and the welcome passage of another school year. As they had all morning, the voices faded in and out, replaced by memories she’d sworn to forget.

“Dr. Abbott?”

Jolted from her reverie, Erin turned her attention to the student waiting for her. She banished the envelope and her past from her mind. “Yes, Ms. Turner?”

Harmony Turner chose a bright, wheedling voice with the honeysuckle tones native to every New Orleans citizen and launched into her spiel. “See, my boyfriend’s computer died last night and he had all of my research on his hard drive and I promise I can finish my paper, but between pledging and my other classes, it’ll be impossible to meet the deadline and I really need to get a good grade, so I was wondering…”

While Harmony streamed through her speech, Erin peeked at the utilitarian clock that hung on the back wall of the lecture hall. She had an appointment at noon. Turning her attention back to Harmony, Erin asked mildly, “Are you requesting an extension on your paper, Ms. Turner?” In notable contrast to the dulcet tones of Ms. Turner, Erin’s voice was low and solid.