A piece of cake, Micki thought when she saw her. Let the spell casting begin.
“Good morning,” the brunette said as they approached the desk, attention fully on Zach. “How can I help you this morning?”
“Detectives Dare and Harris,” Micki said, holding up her shield. “We—”
“—hope you can help us,” Zach jumped in, tone silken. “We’re looking for one of your graduate students.”
Her eyes opened a little wider. “Oh.”
“He’s not in any trouble. We just need to talk to him.”
Zach smiled. Obviously drawing her into his web. It was all Micki could do not to roll her eyes.
“What’s his name?” she asked.
“That’s the problem. We only have a first name. Elijah.” He leaned a bit closer, charm oozing from every pore. “But I was certain, if you just searched your database—”
“What’s his discipline?”
“We don’t know that either.”
They’d caught the attention of another woman behind the desk. She had the look of someone who had eaten a very large, very sour pickle for breakfast.
She marched over to the counter. “Jeanette, I’ll take care of this. I’m Mary Maripaus, the Registrar. How can I be of assistance?”
Zach had his work cut out for him. To his credit, he didn’t even blink. “Detective Harris, my partner Detective Dare. How are you today?”
“Identification, please.”
They obliged and she studied them as if she was an expert in forgeries. Satisfied, she nodded. “You’re here why?”
“We’re trying to locate one of your graduate students. Name’s Elijah, goes by Eli. Unfortunately that’s all the information we have on him.”
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I can’t help you.”
“Mrs. Maripaus, Mary,” he said, looking directly into her eyes, “I understand our request is out of the ordinary, but I’m sure you can help us. I’m certain you want to.”
She gazed at him. He had her, Micki thought. In the next moment, that pickle mouth pursed. “I’m certain I do not. Those eyes and smile might work on a young lass like Jeanette, but they’re not going to work on me. You’re asking me to access our student database, essentially giving free reign to harass any student named Elijah. As the registrar, I can assure you we have a number of them.”
Zach’s surprise was almost comical. Micki quickly stepped in. “Mrs. Maripaus, Detective Harris meant no disrespect.” She lowered her voice. “We need to question this Eli in regard to the two coeds who have gone missing, one of them, as I’m certain you know, a Tulane student. It’s our belief this Elijah’s path crossed one of theirs. Any information he could share might lead us to them.”
Her mouth softened slightly, but she shook her head in refusal. “If you really are detectives, I’m sure you know the university is legally bound to protect the privacy of our students. That said, we will, of course, follow the letter of the law. If the court requests the information, we will provide it.”
“Time’s of the essence. Anything you could do—”
“There’s nothing I can do. But it’s been my experience the legal system moves quickly when there’s more than just speculation involved.”
“Ouch,” Micki muttered as they cleared the office, casting a glance at Zach.
He didn’t reply and she forced back a grin. “Welcome to the world of ordinary humans, partner. Sucks, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Sure, I miss the magic making my life easier, but just witnessing someone resisting your charms—”
“Detective Harris!”
Pretty Jeanette from the Registrar’s office hurried after them. When she reached them, she was slightly out of breath. She handed Zach a folded piece of paper. “I know one Eli on campus. He’s one of Professor Truebell’s graduate assistants, the Philosophy Department. I thought of him right off because you remind me of him a little. Your eyes.”
She smiled, an adorable dimple appearing in her right cheek. Micki decided she hated her—and all girls with adorable dimples and to-die-for-smiles. Life just wasn’t fair.
“I better go before Mrs. Grumpy-pants realizes I didn’t run to the restroom.”
She started off, then looked back. “Oh, and that’s my phone number. Call me!”
Zach smiled. “You were saying, partner?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure Mrs. Grumpy-pants liked you more.”
“Shut up, Harris. We have a lead, let’s follow it.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were standing outside Professor Lester Truebell’s office. Luckily, they’d caught him during his regular office hours; unfortunately, a student was with him.
They didn’t have long to wait. The student exited and the man greeted them. He was a cross between Santa and one of his elves—spritely, with a full white beard, but small, slim and wiry.