Formula for Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

silence as the music absorbed them, playing a soothing preface to a harrowing and hectic day.
     
    Chapter 4
     
    To see yourself as others do, study your handwriting. Your weaknesses are revealed; your strengths become evident.
                                                          “Graphic Insight”
     
    The chocolate slid down her throat, eliciting an adrenaline rush before it hit bottom. Kat moaned with pleasure and deftly secured the second section in a safe corner of her bag. Hearing a slight sound behind her, she licked her lips and swallowed before someone could catch her. Closet chocoholics had it tough.
    “Would you like to be left alone,” Nick ventured as he lounged in the doorway behind her, listening to the exultation.
    She turned around abruptly but only spied the corner of a smile and shuttered eyes. Since she hadn’t caught him mocking her she ignored the issue and settled for lofty aplomb.
    “Alone? Nick we need to plan. Now.” Kat crossed her legs, dangled her Prada buckle pump in bouncing concentration, and pulled out the first samples of handwriting she’d scrounged, staring intently at the various scripts. She didn’t notice the return twinkle.
    “It’s a paltry few, but a start,” she admitted, finally, but this time captured him in an unguarded moment and realized he was still inwardly laughing.
    “What’s so funny?”
    His husky voice attempted a disguise but could barely conceal the glee. “Funny? What? Your sensual addiction or the fact that you hope to solve this case by studying the killer’s signature? It would help if it followed a confession.”
    Kat reeled in the pain. She’d hoped for better from Nick. But education was the answer. He would soon see that handwriting analysis presents a key to unlock the secrets of personality. She’d studied her own handwriting and knew her weaknesses. She swallowed her impatience and smiled. Her time would come.
    For now they moved to Nick’s new office for a quick preliminary meeting. At dawn the president had called an emergency meeting with his administrative staff members for 10 a.m. They wanted to be prepared for any publicity problems that might be posed and to present a plan of action.
    Kat gave Nick detailed background on the long-tenured chemistry professor who died. Charlie had led a shallow life, if one judged by the information at hand. His research plumbed the only depths he had.
    “You’ll probably hear a lot of bad rumors about Charlie. Some of them are definitely true. Facts about him you might need to know—he has a Ph.D. in chemistry from Penn State . One professor said he’d aspired to do his graduate work at Wisconsin but hadn’t made the grade and was bitter ever since.
    Nick took notes as she spoke and Kat discreetly inched her chair sideways to glance at his writing. She hoped to glean a few key points but her skills didn’t lend themselves well to upside-down scrutiny.
    She gave up for now, crossing her long legs and momentarily distracting him. Her harsh assessment quickly brought his mind back to the topic, “He was narrow-minded, worshipped the test tube, and had some irritating habits. He’s been called disrespectful of his so-called underlings, pigheaded and self-serving.”
    “Was he all of that?”
    She wandered the room, thinking of a way to explain the solitary professor from the dedicated one, the quiet from the rude. Academia carried endless invisible lines. The unwary inevitably tripped.
    “He was, to a point, but there are different perspectives on it. For instance, yes, his experiments were his whole life. He even continued working while talking with people. I noticed he never looked directly at the person he was speaking with even when he wasn’t in the lab. It left a sour impression for many that they never had his full attention.”
    Kat had seen Charlie’s handwriting enough times to know of his weaknesses, though they were often