“I’d wager that you run regularly. Take pride in being in good shape.” He paused a beat. “So why the unflattering work attire?”

Abruptly, she remembered anew why she couldn’t let him inside. Reporter. She ignored the stab of disappointment, dismissed the sensation of loss. Gabriel Moss might be gorgeous, charming, and oddly appealing, but she barely knew him. “You have quite an imagination, Mr. Moss. You’ve got four minutes left. Want to spend it talking about my wardrobe?”

“Not this time.” When she gave him a stony look, he added quickly, “I want to talk about murder.”

“Who died?”

“You tell me. I want to see the note, Erin.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Erin reached for the doorknob at her back. “Three minutes.”

“You’re counting too fast.” Gabriel let the charming grin drop. “I overheard you at the station. Calypso dancers and serial killers. Isn’t that what you told Sylvie?”

“You’re mistaken.”

“No, I’m not. And neither are you, I think. Detective Iberville didn’t believe you, but I’m willing to listen. Even help.”

“I didn’t ask for your help. Two minutes.”

“From what I can tell, I doubt you’d ever ask for help—especially from a guy like me.”

“So I’m a misandrist?”

“No. You’re cautious and self-protective. Smart. And I can be overbearing, which is why I brought the flowers. You aren’t afraid of me. Your instincts are telling you I’m annoying but safe.”

She deliberately held his gaze. “My instincts aren’t at issue. Nor is my conversation with the NOPD.”

At that moment, the buzzer mercifully sounded again, and Erin leaned inside to verify her visitor. Pao, the deliveryman, waved into the camera. “Come on up.”

Gabriel straightened from his position on the wall. “I guess my five minutes are up.”

“My dinner is here. And we’ve already had that discussion.”

“I know I’m not joining you for dinner, but be warned, I’m not going anywhere, Professor.” Gabriel gave her a slight bow. “Just so there’s no confusion about why I’m hanging around, here’s where we are: One, you’ve discovered a possible serial killer in New Orleans and you’re the only one who knows. That’s fair game. Two, I am clearly attracted to you, but you’ve told me no. I hear you, and I’ll respect your boundaries. But, let me state for the record, I think there’s a spark between us, even if you don’t agree.”

“There’s nothing between us but murder.” Erin schooled her features into cool disinterest, ignoring the drumming of her heartbeat. “And I don’t need your help. I thought I made myself clear.”

“You have. But you gave yourself away.”

Erin steeled herself against asking the question. Instead, she thinned her mouth into a firm line of disapproval. It normally quelled the most fractious student.