Laurie hadn't moved. There was an expression in her eyes and around her mouth that I didn't immediately fathom, a curious tension. But the brutal announcement about Lois had been shocking. Small wonder that Laurie would be upset.
"Thanks, Laurie," I said. "You got me out of a spot."
"Happy to oblige," she said coldly.
I regarded her in blank surprise. "What's the matter?"
She swung off the couch and moved toward me, her walk unconsciously sensuous, "I really had you figured wrong, didn't I?" she said, her voice strangely sharp.
"Laurie, you don't think I had anything to do with—"
"No. No, I don't think you killed her. But you fooled me once, Professor, so I could be wrong again. I had you typed as the lonely professor. I bet you really got a hoot out of that behind that smug face of yours, didn't you?"
"You're wrong, Laurie."
"I'll say! What were you going to do, anyway? Have a little roll on the couch with the eager student, send her on her way, and then trot along to meet your little waitress? You must be quite a guy, Professor. I should have known from the way you kissed me, shouldn't I? You didn't learn that in a book."
She was clearly hurt, a stung pride firing the bitterness of her words, and I knew she wasn't going to listen to me.