The Select

spraying of the dorm. The second floor is scheduled

first on Friday morning, November 18. All rooms must

be vacated between 8 a.m. and noon. Please leave

your room unlocked and remove all articles from your

floors before leaving for morning classes that day.

Louis Verran

Chief of Campus Security

Something about the notice bothered Tim but for the life of him he couldn't nail down just what it was.

'Seen any bugs around your room, Quinn?' he said.

'Not a one,' she said as she left her door and came over to him. 'And I don't want to.'

'How about the other girls? Any of them mention being bothered by bugs?'

'Not that I recall. Why?'

'I don't know. Seems strange to start spraying on the second floor. I'd think if there was going to be an insect problem in the dorm it would start at ground level and work its way up.'

'You're an expert on bugs now?'

'No. But if nobody's seen any—'

'Sounds like preventive medicine to me,' Quinn said. 'If you spray on a regular basis, you won't develop a problem. Not a bad idea, really. Besides, the stuff they're using is supposed to be colorless and odorless and non- toxic to humans once it dries.' She tugged on his sleeve. 'Come on. We'll be late for Path.'

Tim took one last look at the notice. Maybe it was Louis Verran's name on the bottom that bothered him. He hadn't told Quinn about his little run-in with Verran in her room that night. She'd already been upset about her confrontation with Alston and he hadn't seen any purpose in bringing it up.

But something about Verran's demeanor that night had lingered with him like a bad aftertaste. Tim had had a vague impression then that the man was hiding something. He'd looked guilty. Over the following weeks Tim had written it off as a misread, but then this notice: the second floor was going to be empty, all the doors unlocked, with Louis Verran in charge.

Was something going on?

Nah.

He followed Quinn toward the stairs.

*

Louis Verran stood at the door to room 252 and glanced at his watch. 9:16. Plenty of time left. He stepped back into the suite and watched Elliot checking the SLI units in the headboards. All the works were exposed and he was running his check, his long fingers pulling, poking, and probing the tangled wires and circuit boards.

'How's it look?' Verran said.

'Perfect so far, chief. I'm about halfway through and haven't found a thing. I got a feeling I'm not going to.'

'Never mind your feelings,' Verran said. 'Just don't miss anything.'

There had to be something wrong with the unit, something mechanical, something electronic, something that could be fixed. But if the problem wasn't with the unit; if the SLI wasn't on the fritz, then it had to be Cleary. A malfunctioning unit was one thing, but a malfunctioning student...?

They'd had one of those two years ago. Please, God, never again.

He looked at his watch again.

'Don't rush, Elliot. Just do it right. Still plenty of time.'

*

Tim sensed rather than saw Quinn lean over his shoulder.

'I've got to get back to the dorm,' she whispered.

'Now?'

The clock on the auditorium wall said 9:30. Still ten minutes to go in Dr. Hager's pathology lecture on inflammation.

'I forgot my histo notes. I want to have them for the review.'

Staying low, she edged out of the row of seats and started up the steps to the exit. Tim hesitated a moment, then got up and trailed after her.

'Wait up,' he said in the hallway.

She turned, surprise in her eyes. 'Tim? Where are you going?'

'With you.'

'You forget something too?'

'No. I just...' How did he say this? He didn't want to tell her of his misgivings about Louis Verran. He was sure they'd sound pretty lame if he said them out loud. But he did not like the idea of her entering the empty dorm alone, even if it was a bright fall morning. 'I don't think you should go alone.'

She stopped and stared at him. 'What? You've got to be kidding.'

'No, I'm not kidding. They've got a bunch of outsiders wandering the halls.'

'Campus security is there.'

Tim was tempted to say that might be the problem, but resisted.

'Yeah, but even The Ingraham's crack SWAT team can't be everywhere. One of the bug men could be a nut case. All the rooms are unlocked. He could catch you when you step into yours and...well, who knows.'

'My hero,' she said. Then she touched his arm. 'Thanks for the thought, but I—'

'No arguments,' he said. 'I'm going with you and we haven't got much time. Besides, I'm not letting some creep who's been sniffing too much bug spray ruin my weekend in AC.'

'Some hero!' she said and laughed.

Tim loved the sound.

It took them less than five minutes to make it back to Women's Country. As Quinn pushed through the stairwell door ahead of him, she stopped and pointed down the hall.

'See? Nothing to worry about. You could have saved yourself the trip. There's the Chief of Security himself standing in my doorway.'

I knew it!

Tim squeezed past her into the hall. He saw Verran, but the security man was no longer in the doorway to Quinn's room. He had just pulled it closed and was bustling toward them, his jowls jiggling, an anxious look straining his features.

'What are you two doing here?' he said. 'You're supposed to be in class now.'

'We're going right back,' Quinn said.

'Didn't you read the notice? Rooms are to be vacated between eight and twelve.'

'I'll only be a second,' Quinn said, starting toward her room. 'I just have to pick up some—'

Verran stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

'You can't go in there right now. He's right in the middle of spraying.'

'Bullshit,' Tim said.

He stepped around Verran and headed for Quinn's door. He'd had enough. Too many screwy coincidences here: Fifty-two rooms on the floor and they just happen to be spraying 252 when he and Quinn arrive unannounced, Verran obviously upset at their surprise return, and the unsettling fact that Verran didn't have to ask Quinn who she was and which room was hers.

Something was going on.

'Hey! Come back here!'

Tim heard Verran hurrying after him but didn't slow. He had a good lead. He'd be in Quinn's room well ahead of him. But as he was reaching for the knob, the door opened.

A tall, dark-haired man in his early thirties stood there. He wore gray coveralls with an oval patch on the left breast that said A-Jacks Exterminating. He carried a toolbox in one hand and a two-gallon spray canister in the other.

He smiled easily at Tim. 'Hey. How's it going?' then looked past him. 'All set in here, Mr. Verran. Where to next?'

Verran hauled up next to Tim, puffing. 'What? Oh, yeah. Good. We'll go to 251 next.' He glared at Tim.