Читать книгу The Case of the Confirmed Bachelor - Diana Palmer - Страница 9

Nick had always been fascinated by the forensics lab at FBI headquarters. It had a reputation second to none for being able to put together evidence from almost nothing. A human hair with its DNA structure could yield a pattern as individual as a fingerprint. The tread of a tennis shoe involved in a murder could be traced to the person who purchased it. A scrap of cloth could yield an incredible amount of information about its owner. And the FBI boasted the largest file of fingerprints on record anywhere. It was an agency to which Nick had been proud to belong. Leaving it had been a wrench, too. A woman with whom he’d been involved had been killed while he’d worked there. She, too, had been a special agent, infiltrating a counterfeiting ring. She’d been spotted and eliminated. That was how the supervisor had put it. Nick had been inconsolable and he’d quit the agency.

He wondered now if it hadn’t been a case of simple loneliness and pity. The woman had needed someone at a time in Nick’s life when he was feeling hopelessly alone. He’d almost turned to Tabby. But at that time, she’d been shy and introverted and he’d been sure that she would back away from any advance he made. She’d seemed to see him in only one light—that of a protective, affectionate older brother.

Obviously she hadn’t seen him like that at the New Year’s Eve party. His blood still ran hot at the memory of how eager she’d been for him. Now, having had time to adjust to seeing her in this unexpected way, he’d regretted pushing her away.

But years ago, he’d wanted Tabby. It had been because of that that he’d pursued the woman at work in the first place, out of a need to prove to himself that any woman would do. He didn’t need a shy, nervous young woman who didn’t even see him as a man.

Sometimes he thought Tabby was a bit afraid of him. The first move she’d ever made toward him had been at that party, when she’d had too much to drink. Apparently he was only palatable to her if she was too tipsy to think properly, and that was hardly flattering. If she’d ever wanted him in the old days, it had never shown. He was defensive toward her because it hurt his pride to think that he couldn’t even attract a backward egghead like Tabby. Good God, she wasn’t even pretty, and her figure left plenty to be desired. Why, then, he wondered angrily, did the memory of her body against his keep him awake at night? Why did her kisses haunt him?

Momentarily diverted when the elevator stopped, he strolled into one of the huge laboratories that peppered the building and grinned at the elderly form bent over a microscope. That familiar sight had greeted him every time he’d come here during his tenure as a special agent.

“Hello, Bartholomew,” he greeted.

The old man looked up, and smiled with delight. “Nick! How nice to see you! Can you stay a while?”

“At least long enough to let you identify something for me,” Nick teased. He shook hands with the amused laboratory chief. “How are you, Bart?”

“I’ve been better. When you get to my age, even arthritis is encouraging. It means you’re still alive enough to feel pain!” He chuckled. “Why are you in town? Come home, are you? We could use a good special agent…”

“No. I’m on vacation. I’m working as a private detective these days. It’s a little less fraught than working for the agency,” he added with a chuckle.

“You look as if it agrees with you. What can I detect for you?”

“This.” Nick pulled out the small plastic bag with the strand of hair. It looked odd now that he was out of the influence of Tabby and her snobbish boyfriend, and he scowled as he handed it over to Bart.

The older man lifted an eyebrow as he opened the bag and took out the sample. “Losing your touch, aren’t you?”

Nick let out a sharp breath. “I must be. My God, that isn’t human hair!”

“Bingo.” Bart studied it and shrugged. “Animal fur. Someone has a dog, right?”

He wasn’t sure if Tabby had one or not, but she’d mentioned going into the biology lab on the way over to the college. Probably she’d picked it up there, where they kept rats and mice and dogs and cats and such, and it had come off on her desk.

Nick took the sample back. “A dog or a rabbit or some such thing,” he agreed. “Funny I didn’t notice that it wasn’t human.”

“I can run it for you and tell you exactly what it is, if you like.”

He shook his head. “No need. I’m getting careless, I guess,” he said with a rueful smile.

“Something on your mind?”

“Yes. A lady,” Nick replied. His broad shoulders rose and fell. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. There’s been a theft. Nothing major, to my mind, but I’m trying to help a friend catch the culprit.”