Hidden in the Wall. Valerie Hansen

      “I’m not a bit surprised,” her friend answered. “After the storms we had the last few days the whole campus is pretty soggy.” She pointed. “See? Half the men in the room have traces of mud on their shoes, even some of our illustrious professors.”

      Although Cassie’s assessment was clearly correct, it did nothing to calm Steff’s jangled nerves. Surely, Trevor wouldn’t have run from her, she reasoned, yet if it wasn’t him messing around by the library, then who was it? And why had the shadowy figure frightened her so?

      She huffed in self-disgust. From the looks of it, the nameless trespasser could be almost any man in the room.

      That realization brought another shiver and a feeling of unidentifiable dread she couldn’t seem to dispel. An evening that should have been filled with joy and celebration was turning out to be a lot more disconcerting than she’d imagined.

      Shivering, Steff wrapped her arms around herself. The most sensible thing to do would be to simply ask Trevor how he’d gotten his shoes dirty.

      Yes, she countered, but what if it was him by the library? What then? Would I have to ask him what he was up to? Suppose I didn’t like his answer?

      Entertaining the mere notion that Trevor had been skulking around campus was unacceptable. Not knowing, one way or the other, seemed infinitely better than having to face the unpleasant possibility that he might have been the one who had frightened her out of her wits.

      TWO

      Trevor arrived on campus the following Monday, as planned. He was far from overjoyed, however, at the prospect of having to return to Magnolia College for even a short period of time.

      He certainly didn’t have many pleasant memories of his younger days here, nor did he view the place with the affection and reverence Steff always had. The university had her family’s influence stamped all over it. Some of the massive live oaks even bore plaques giving credit for their planting to a long-dead Kessler.

      He muttered under his breath as he parked and climbed out of his truck, then was immediately penitent. “Sorry, Father,” he prayed quietly as he walked toward the offices. “I know I should be thankful for every job You give me and I did ask for more work, it’s just that I hadn’t counted on having it be here.”

      The one aspect of Magnolia College that he did miss was the Campus Christian Fellowship. Some of the friends he had made while attending those CCF meetings were still close and many had gone on to join the nearby Magnolia Christian Church where he also worshipped.

      Finding faith on the road to maturity had given Trevor a purpose and had helped straighten him out. How anybody managed to cope day-to-day, let alone face trauma, without an abiding belief in God amazed him. Personally, he didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have his strong beliefs to fall back on when the going got tough.

      And speaking of tough going, he mused, it was time to enter the lion’s den. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed open the main door to the Administration building, strode in and proceeded directly to Alumni Relations.

      Stephanie was seated behind a desk piled high with stacks of paper and files when he knocked and entered.

      She stood and extended her hand in greeting. “You’re prompt. I like that.”

      Trevor considered making a wisecrack, then stifled the urge. This was business, not playtime in the quad. “I take my work seriously.”

      He shook her hand as briefly as he dared. He didn’t want to offend her, but he also didn’t want to be tempted to stand here holding her hand and gazing into her beautiful, violet-blue eyes like a lovesick teenager. It was bad enough that she was wearing a pale silk blouse that enhanced those eyes and tailored slacks that looked as if they’d been made just for her—which they probably had, he added, disgusted with himself for noticing.

      “So, show me the wall you want remodeled,” he said, taking a pencil and pad from his shirt pocket and unclipping a tape measure from the waist of his jeans.

      “Sure. Over here.” Steff pointed. “See all the wasted space? I thought, if there was a bookcase recessed into the wall behind the door, I could take advantage of every inch of this cramped little office.”

      “You probably grew up with clothes closets that were bigger,” he said wryly.

      “As a matter of fact, I did.” She watched him measuring and making notes. “What do you think? Can it be done?”

      “Anything can be done,” Trevor said. “It’s a question of how difficult or expensive it may be. I can have an estimate for you in a few minutes. There’s no obligation. If you decide you want the work done, I can start right away. If you put it off and call me later, I’ll do my best to squeeze you in, but I can’t guarantee when.”

      “Fair enough. How long to you think the whole job will take?”

      “If I can have access to the office day and night, probably less than a week. If I can only work while you’re here, it’ll take longer. You won’t like being around during the sanding or varnishing, believe me.”

      She reached for the scratch paper he held out to her. “Wow. Is that all? I’m amazed. Okay. Let’s do it.”

      “Don’t you have to get approval from higher up?” Trevor asked, frowning.

      “Actually, this is one of the perks of being a Kessler. If I don’t exceed my budget, I can do whatever I please.”

      “Okay. I’ll write up a formal agreement for you to sign and bring it with me when I come back this afternoon. Might as well get started while I’m waiting for some back-ordered materials for another job.”

      “You won’t quit halfway through my bookcases and leave a mess, will you? I really need my office. The new quarter starts soon.”

      “No, I won’t quit until this job is finished. When I make a commitment, I keep it. You can count on me.”

      When Steff sobered and quietly said, “I know,” the sound of her voice and the suddenly charged atmosphere within the cramped office made the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end.

      It looked as though working when she wasn’t present was going to be more than advantageous, it was going to be critical. Especially if he hoped to finish the job and also keep what little was left of his sanity.

      Stephanie had cleaned off her desk and draped a sheet of plastic over her computer station by the time Trevor returned.

      “Do you want me to get lost or stay here?” she asked. “I’m curious to see what it looks like inside a wall, if you don’t think I’ll be in the way.”

      “Suit yourself. Just don’t breathe the dust. I remember you used to have allergies.”

      “I still do.”

      “Then you’d better wear a disposable mask so you don’t sneeze yourself to death. There are extras in my toolbox. Help yourself. And hand me one, too, will you?”

      He began spreading a tarp on the floor. “I doubt this will be very interesting. About all I usually find is abandoned wasp nests and dead mice.”

      “Terrific.”

      “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the vermin. That’s what this tarp is for, to catch all the dirt.”

      He put on one of the masks, took a pry bar and popped the baseboard off as if it were a toothpick. The wall itself proved more stubborn. Finally, he worked an opening large enough for a handhold, grabbed the plasterboard and gave it a yank. White powder filled the nearby air and made a cloud around his head.

      Stephanie retreated. She’d never noticed how cramped her office was until she’d been shut in there with Trevor. She would have left then if he hadn’t had to close the door to gain access to the wall he was demolishing.

      Trapped by