CHAPTER FOUR

Hannah didn't like how things were going.

As she studied herself in the women's room of the UC Irvine Student Center, she couldn't help but notice the dark shadows under her green eyes, which were the same shade as her sister, Jessie's. No amount of makeup seemed to help.

Despite that hint of distress, she still thought she looked good. At five foot nine, she was only an inch shorter than Jessie. Her blonde hair rested below her shoulders, vibrant and bouncy. Her daily workout routine had replaced the waifishness of high school with lean, sinewy strength. Those green eyes still flashed with confidence that some people claimed bordered on cockiness. But if anyone here at college knew her as well as her sister did, they'd pick up on the signs that something wasn't quite right.

Yes, she was doing great in her classes. She'd also made several friends, including her new roommate, Eliza, or Lizzie, as she preferred. And generally speaking, she'd avoided any unnecessary conflicts. But even before school started, and especially in the last few weeks, she'd felt a familiar restlessness in her chest. She knew the source of it, and she didn't like it.

A petite young woman with an oversized backpack almost half her size walked into the restroom and Hannah snapped out of her reverie. She smiled blandly at the girl who returned it before disappearing into a stall. Hannah gave herself one last once-over, then left.

She got into line at the Student Center's Starbucks to order a coffee she probably didn't need. She was already amped up for the day. As she waited for her turn, she thought back to the origin point of her edginess. It had really escalated two weeks ago, after she helped Lizzie, who was getting nasty, threatening anonymous letters.

Lizzie knew who Hannah's profiler older sister was. She also knew that Hannah had worked over the summer at a detective agency and had asked for her help unearthing who was leaving the letters. Hannah eventually uncovered that it was Lizzie's own roommate, Bellamy. And not wanting her friend to deal with the painful fact that her emotional torturer had slept in the bed across from her for two months, Hannah blackmailed the offending girl into leaving school.

But ever since then, Hannah had retained the bitter aftertaste of the incident. She felt like Bellamy had gotten off easy. Some part of her regretted not making her pay a more substantial price for her cruelty. She'd had more than a few daydreams in which she waited until Bellamy was comfortably ensconced at her new college before sending the school's newspaper a copy of the recording she'd secretly made of Bellamy confessing to what she'd done.

Of course, that would mean unwanted, embarrassing attention for Lizzie. So Hannah reluctantly began looking for other ways to sate her desire for righteous vengeance against other wrongdoers. It was a dangerous road she had travelled down before, one that led to danger for others, and often herself. She knew she had to get a handle on it before it spiraled out of control again.

"You don't strike me as the type who needs caffeine to stay alert," someone said from right behind her, making her jump slightly.

Hannah turned around to find herself facing Finn Anderton. The guy was smiling at her cockily. He'd clearly just come inside as his dirty blond hair was casually windswept, and his cheeks were ruddy. His crooked grin highlighted his dimples. He shifted his feet, adjusting his wiry but powerfully built frame.

"I'm not sure you know me well enough to draw any conclusions about what ‘type' I am," she replied coolly. "I mean, I believe this is the second time we've spoken."

"But the first time was so memorable, it's fixed in my brain," he said. "It's not everyday that some random gal comes to a party at my fraternity, fake flirts with me to get me alone, then proceeds to accuse me of leaving cruel, anonymous messages outside the dorm room of a girl I hardly know. It left an impression."

Finn was still smiling enthusiastically, so it was apparent that he didn't hold much of a grudge, although he probably had a right to. When she'd initially investigated the notes left for Lizzie and discovered that Finn went to her high school and was on the lacrosse team with her ex-boyfriend, she jumped to the conclusion that he might be targeting her on behalf of his old teammate.

In retrospect, cornering him in the laundry room of the frat house and alleging that he was terrorizing Lizzie was not the most well-thought-out plan. And as it turned out, Finn didn't fit her preconception of the rowdy, party guy who would do something that cruel and not think twice about it. Now that she thought about it, she'd never really apologized to him.

"I might have been a little rash," she conceded reluctantly.

"Keep going," he said, with a wave of his hand.

"What exactly do you want me to say?" she demanded, unwilling to go beyond that.

"No, I mean, keep going forward. You're next in line."

She turned around and saw that she was almost next up to order. Feeling her cheeks redden, she took several steps forward. Finn moved forward too and leaned close so that only she could hear what he said next.

"How are you doing?" he asked quietly. His voice was laced with concern.

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning around halfway.

"No offense, but you look a little tired."

Hannah stared at him, trying to hide her surprise. She was tired, mostly from a lack of sleep related to the restless pit she carried around in her gut, but she assumed that no one had noticed. She found herself mildly impressed.

"Too much late night studying, I guess," she lied.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for someone who needs to study that hard," he told her. "Or are you going to call me out for drawing conclusions again?"

She knew that he was flirting but wasn't sure how to respond. She'd bantered many a time to gain an advantage over someone she suspected of ill intent, but Finn seemed to be genuinely interested in chatting her up just for the pleasure of it. She was about to reply when she noticed an unusual absence. It occurred to her that during the course of their conversation, that restless pit inside her had temporarily melted away.

"You're up," he said, nodding ahead of her. "It seems like you keep losing track of things when I'm around."

Hannah offered him a smirk before turning back around and placing her order.

"And I'll have a large black coffee," he said, stepping next to her. "Both are on me."

"That's not necessary," Hannah told him. "I can pay for my own drink."

"Of course you can," he replied, flashing the crooked grin again, "but that's not the point. This is a gesture of friendship and human connection. Just say ‘thank you' like a normal person and step aside so the next customer can order. That's how things work in a civil society, Hannah."

It was the first time she could remember him saying her name, and she felt an unexpected charge at hearing it, though she kept her expression blank.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," he replied, before adding, "although I have to be honest. I have an ulterior motive with the coffee."

Hannah saw him suddenly stiffen nervously and waited silently for the follow-up, unsure where he was headed with this and unwilling to help him navigate his way out of whatever it was.

"So I heard through the grapevine that you solved your friend's problem with those anonymous notes," he continued awkwardly.

"Yes," Hannah said, offering nothing more.

"And I noted that you resolved it without anyone finding out who did it or letting word spread about the whole mess, which probably saved your friend a lot of embarrassment."

Hannah only nodded in response.

"And I also did a little research and found out that this isn't the first time you've been involved in investigations. I guess you worked for a private detective?"

"You guess?" Hannah repeated, on more familiar ground now that she was the one keeping the other person off balance.

"I know," he acknowledged. "I read about your involvement in a few cases in news reports. "Anyway, it seems like you have a real gift for this sort of thing and as it turns out, I have a friend who could use your help."

"So to be clear," Hannah teased, deciding to throw him a lifeline, "you thought that if you bought my coffee drink, I'd repay you by helping your friend?"

"Exactly," he said, seeming to find his verbal footing again. "I was hoping to bribe you with caffeine and sugar. How'd I do?"

"What's your friend's problem?" she asked, not answering his question.

"Maybe I'll let him tell you," Finn said. "It's kind of sensitive and I think he'd like to share it rather than going through a third party."

"Who is he?" Hannah pressed.

"His name is Reggie Calderone. He's one of my fraternity brothers, or will be, if I ever move beyond being a pledge."

Hannah felt the urge to say no flat out but managed to swallow the word.

"I'm not a fan of fraternities," she reminded him. "You may not know me well, but you should already know that by now."

"I do know that," he conceded. "But I also know that—and please don't take this the wrong way—you pre-judged me based on your personal bias and ended up kind of embarrassing yourself."

"I think that's overstating it a bit," Hannah insisted unconvincingly.

"I would just hate for you to make the same mistake twice and have that reflect poorly on your character," he said, now the one doing the teasing. "At least hear him out. You can always bail if you're not interested."

Hannah thought that was an eminently reasonable request, though she kept that to herself.

"When were you thinking?" she asked.

"It"s super time-sensitive, so preferably tonight," he said quickly. "I was hoping you could come to his room at the house."

"The fraternity house?" Hannah wanted to know.

"Yes, Hannah, that's where he lives."

Again, there was that little charge at hearing her name on his lips.

"I don't like the sound of that," she admitted.

"He just wants some privacy when he talks to you," Finn explained. "If it helps, I'll be there."

"That's supposed to be reassuring?"

"Yes," he said, grinning broadly, his dimples nearly blinding her.

Her cheeks flushed again, and she looked down so that her hair fell around her face, hiding it. "Fine, I'll go," she muttered, hoping she sounded put out.

"Thanks," he said. "Give me your number and I'll text you a specific time after I talk to Reggie."

Ignoring her reservations, Hannah pulled out her phone and exchanged contact information with him. Still, despite Finn's charm, she wasn't sure this was a good idea. The idea of going solo to a fraternity house on a Thursday night and hanging out with two guys in one of their bedrooms gave her real pause.

But she'd said yes. Backing out now would seem weak. So she ignored the little shiver running up her spine and said nothing.