Splintered by SJD Peterson Page A

not too early. I’m kind of a night owl.”
    “Okay.” This time Kegan didn’t step in front of him, and Noah sighed in relief, both at being free of Kegan and his table still being available.
    He rushed to it, choosing a chair that faced the door and sliding his backpack under it as he sat. He wasn’t normally rude, but he tended to be socially awkward—at least face to face—and he was nervous as hell. Noah did his best to smooth down his wrinkled shirt and ran his hands through his wayward curls. It was the best he could do in an attempt to look presentable. He bounced his knee nervously and thrummed his fingers on the tabletop. Patience had never been one of his virtues.
    Noah’s pulse was racing in anticipation, and the urge to pace was strong. He was debating if he had enough time to run to the bathroom, but Hutchinson and his partner pushing through the door made the decision for him. The bouncing quickened, as did his heart rate, as Noah watched the agents make their way toward him.
    Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Please don’t embarrass yourself , he silently begged.
    “Mr. Walker,” Special Agent Hutchinson said by way of greeting.
    Noah didn’t dare stand. He’d have to forego manners as there was a very real possibility his trembling legs wouldn’t hold him up.
    “Have—” Noah’s voice came out like a squeak, and he had to clear it before trying to speak again. “Have a seat. Can I order you two a cup of coffee?”
    “None for me, thank you,” the other agent—Noah couldn’t remember his name—replied.
    Special Agent Hutchinson shook his head, and Noah was stuck where he was, although he really would have preferred another moment to compose himself or at the very least a glass of water to help soothe his suddenly dry throat.
    “Thank you for agreeing to meet us,” Hutchinson said as his amazingly beautiful dark blue eyes scanned the area around them. “I was hoping we could do this in a bit more private setting.”
    Noah was confused. He didn’t understand why they would need to be in a private setting. “Why?”
    The two agents stared at each other for a moment, and Noah felt a stirring of unease tickle along his spine. He’d assumed they wanted to talk to him about his research, possibly his presentation on being a victim, as Noah was aware Hutchinson had been called in on the most recent murders. Noah had spotted him at the last crime scene. Noah’s unease grew when the other agent gave a curt nod to Hutchinson and left the table.
    “Where’s he going?” Noah asked in confusion.
    “He’ll be right back,” Hutchinson assured him.
    Noah tilted his head and studied the agent. Even with the skittering of unease buzzing along his nerve endings, Noah couldn’t help the way his body responded to Hutchinson. He’d never seen anyone as attractive as the agent, with his nearly black hair, dark midnight blue eyes, and strong jaw. Oh and Lord, the way the man filled out his dark suit was enough to set any man, or woman for that matter, on fire. However, it was the neutral expression on Hutchinson’s face that had Noah perplexed. He’d always been really good at picking up other people’s emotions, yet he couldn’t quite get a reading on what Hutchinson was feeling. His eyes were intense as he looked back at Noah, full of…. Noah wasn’t sure, but the first thought that popped into his head was suspicion.
    “I understand you have quite the interest in serial killers,” Hutchinson said casually.
    “You could say that. Some might even call it an obsession,” Noah said with a shrug.
    “When did it begin?”
    “When I was a youngster.”
    “Any particular reason for your… obsession?” Hutchinson asked.
    He was definitely being interrogated. Noah laid his forearms on the table and entwined his fingers, leaning forward as he met the agent’s eyes. “Look, Special Agent Hutchinson—”
    “Call me Hutch,” he said with a charming smile.
    “Okay, Hutch, please don’t insult my