“Oh, like a guy?” Randa drew a breath now. The tears were drying up as her mind became occupied. “She dated around. She didn’t sleep around. She was really firm about not giving it out until she was good and ready. If a guy pushed, she’d turn it around into a joke until they got to be friends, or if that didn’t work, she’d walk away.”
“She ever mention somebody named Diego?”
“Oh, him.” Randa wrinkled her nose. “God’s gift, Latino type, hooked onto her at the club. She went to dinner with him once, some Mex restaurant he said he owned. He tried to put the moves on her, wasn’t too happy when she deflected. Came by campus once and got a little hot because she laughed him off. That was a few months ago, I guess.”
“Got a last name for him?”
“No. Um, short guy, too much hair, soul patch. Always wearing those cow-kicker boots with little heels. But he could dance.”
“Anybody else try to put the moves on her?”
“Well, there was Hoop. Jackson Hooper. He’s a TA, a teacher assistant—English Lit. Another one of those God’s gifts, but whitebread style. He racks girls up like pool balls, and Rachel wouldn’t play. He came on pretty strong, following her around. Not stalking her,” Randa qualified. “Just being where she was a lot, and making plays. We all figured it was because she was the first girl to turn him down in his life, and he didn’t want to spoil his streak.”
“Did he end up where she was just on campus, or did it happen elsewhere?”
“She said he came into the store where she works a couple times. Just hanging around and being charming. She got a kick out of it, actually.”
“When did you see her last, Randa?”
“I didn’t make dinner, had to study. She was talking about bunking here after class. She did that sometimes on her evening classes. She’s not really supposed to, but nobody cared. Everyone liked having her around. But when she didn’t show, we just figured she’d gone home. I didn’t even think about it.”
Two fresh tears trickled down her cheeks. “I didn’t think about her at all. Charlie was out, and I had the room to myself. All I thought was, how nice and quiet it was so I could study. And when I was thinking that, somebody killed Rachel.”
They tracked down Jackson Hooper at another dorm. The minute he opened the door, Eve knew word had spread. His face was a bit pale, and his lips trembled once before he firmed them into a thin line.
“You’re the cops.”
“Jackson Hooper? We’d like to come in and speak with you for a few minutes.”
“Yeah.” He dragged his hand through a tousled mop of sun-streaked hair as he stepped back.
He was tall, and he was built. The kind of body created through regular workouts or through stiff fees for body sculpting treatments. Since he was a teaching assistant, his quarters were even smaller than the ones she’d just come from, and he was probably strapped for cash, she opted for workouts.
That meant he was strong, disciplined, and motivated.
He had chiseled looks—the All-American boy—clear skin, blue eyes, firm jaw. It was easy enough to see why he’d rack up available coeds.
He dropped into the spindly chair at his desk, and gestured vaguely toward the bed. “I just heard about ten minutes ago. I was heading to class and somebody told me. I couldn’t go to class.”
“You dated Rachel.”
“We went out a couple times.” He hesitated, then rubbed his face as if coming out of a long sleep. “Somebody’s already told you. Somebody’s always hot to talk. I wanted to go out with her again, and yeah, I wanted her in the sack. She wasn’t having any.”
“That must’ve irritated you,” Eve commented and wandered over to the framed photographs grouped on his wall. They were all of him, in various poses. A nice little pile of vanity, she thought.
“Yeah, it did. I don’t have any trouble getting girls in bed. I’m good at it,” he said with a shrug. “So I was a little steamed when she wouldn’t go for it, then kept turning me down when I asked her out. More, I was like, well, baffled. Hey.” He flashed a white, straight-toothed smile as he gestured toward the photographs. “Prime merchandise.”
“But Rachel wasn’t buying it.”
“Nope. So I was steamed, and I was baffled. But then, you know, I was interested. Like, what was it going to take. And what was it with this girl anyway? So I got hooked.” He lowered his head into his hands. “Fuck.”
“You followed her around.”
“Like a pet droid. I’d find out she was going to a club, or heading to the library, whatever, and I’d be there. I trotted over to the place she worked just to talk to her. Borrowed my roommate’s scooter so I could talk her into letting me take her home a couple times. She’d let me. I didn’t worry her one damn bit.”
“Did you fight with her?”
“I shot off my mouth a few times. She’d just laugh, then what could you do? Another girl would’ve told me to screw myself, but she’d just laugh. I think maybe I was in love with her.” He dropped his hands. “I think maybe I was. How do you know?”