When someone dies mysteriously during a Psych experiment, Rhiannon becomes enmeshed in a conspiracy that includes both the survivors and the killer.
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Short on cash, Rhiannon...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
WATSON
( —united states psychologist considered the founder of behavioristic psychology. )
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CONNOR DUNCAN IS STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER. Better yet, he's standing on the front porch of the house that will be used for the lab rats, as Rhiannon has heard someone refer to them as (even though that's technically what they are), but his eyes find hers, in spite of the other people with frozen feet. The only person who doesn't seem a single bit bothered by the cold is Roman, holding his white cane in front of him with both hands in silence.
Rhiannon refuses to give Connor the satisfaction of ever seeing her break again. She's certain he knows the effect he left on her the last time they spoke, even after she had spent so much time trying to avoid him, and that only leaves her a lot more adamant to prove to him she's strong enough for this damn experiment. Jude's hand squeezes hers, nearly cutting off her circulation, but she barely feels it.
She raises her chin. On her left, Dimitri's shoulders look as stiff as iron boards, and she wonders if he'll ever relax, even if that's hard to do when your girlfriend has been missing for over a month and no one seems to give a damn anymore. Rhiannon wants to tell him she does, she cares, and there are several other people who feel the same way, but they had never said two words to each other (they still haven't), and God knows what he'd think if he knew she's been sticking her nose into the middle of the investigation.
She can only hope Rowan will keep his word by not mentioning a word about it to anyone, not even to Isla. If there's anyone she can't keep a secret from, besides Rhiannon herself, it's her father and Rowan is already too involved thanks to the book. Anything more than that going public would be a true scandal, making him lose his job, making Rhiannon lose her spot in the experiment and at Crowcrest and making Gabriel lose his credibility.
They've already lost too much. It wouldn't be fair to keep pouring salt on their wounds.
"Good afternoon," Connor cheerfully greets, hands hidden inside the pockets of his tweed jacket, an outfit that certainly doesn't match the chilly twilight. Purple and red hues tint the skies like bruises as night quickly approaches. "As you might have guessed, this is the house the experiment will be using and where you will spend some days of your week. My family was kind to provide it, as we have made several generous donations to Crowcrest University throughout the years, and we're always happy to help all investigations. Connor Duncan, at your service. At least during an hour or an hour and a half today. I have better things to do than pretend to be a real estate agent."
No one chuckles. No one even bothers throwing him a hesitant smile, as everyone is slowly freezing to death outside and the last thing they want to do is joke around when there's a perfectly good, warm two-story house standing in front of them. It's close to the campus, being only five minutes away by foot, and it easily goes by unnoticed in the middle of all the other houses in the neighborhood, similar to the Hamptons.
