“That’s acceptable. You first. Answer my question. I assume the study was performed as part of your doctorate in social and decision neuroscience.” Abigail had degrees in computation and neural systems, social and decision neuroscience, game theory, biochemistry, and philosophy with a practical ethics emphasis. The latter was an oddity.

She rubbed at a mark on her boot near her knee. “Of course. My contract with Tech requires me to publish, as I’m sure you’re aware. So I’ve been conducting said research. Davie actually was an interesting subject, and I would’ve preferred to keep him in the study. However . . . laws and rules and all of that.” She waved her hand in the air.

“Your study. Was the focus on simple choices, trial and error, harm or hurt?” Laurel leaned forward. “Or more complex issues such as the way the brain processes information or becomes influenced? Or did you zero in on biology and behavior?” There were so many different avenues of study, and Laurel was fascinated by them all.

Abigail straightened. “Dear sister, you’ve been looking into my discipline? One of them? I’m honored.”

Encouraging the woman would be a mistake. “No. You’re not the only person with multiple degrees. Please answer.”

“Oh no, not yet. It’s my turn. Tell me about the love kiss on your neck.” Abigail clasped her hands in her lap. “Is he the animal he appears? He did bite you.”

Any information Laurel gave to Abigail could and most likely would be used against her in the future. Even so, she needed answers as well. “I’m not willing to discuss personal matters with you.”

Abigail’s chin firmed. “It’s okay to like it rough. Some of us do.” Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “It’s not like we’re from pure stock. Daddy’s heart was black as the devil’s and twice as thick, and we do come from him. No matter what your earth-loving, moon-worshiping, mother has told you. Rough can be good. Very good.”

“Please focus on the matter at hand.” Laurel’s ears began to ring and her anxiety clicked up several heated measures.

“I am. If my baby sister is drawn to the dark side, I can only be of help.” She winked. “There’s a bruise on your left wrist. Did he pin you down?”

She’d gotten the bruise smashing her own arm against the wall when lost in the throes of an orgasm. Laurel flashed back to the passionate night, knowing the hint of violence between her and Huck had only increased her desire for the former soldier. “Do you think Davie could be a killer?” She might as well get down to business.