She merely hung around the university campus at ten o’clock on a Tuesday morning, when the good professor made his way back to his department after giving a lecture. Ava had perused Taylor’s timetable the evening before, having requested information on his schedule from one of the English department administrators. “He usually stops at the Coffee Bean counter in the Oasis for a coffee on his way back,” the woman she spoke to on the phone had said, helpfully, allowing Ava to be at the cash till paying for her skinny latte, just as Taylor joined the queue. The Oasis was the university’s main eating area, a large open air space with different outlets selling a variety of foods. Most of the world’s cuisine seemed to be represented. Heads turned as Ava sashayed across the floor of the cafeteria in her killer heels. There was a pair of trainers in her bag and her ankle was aching, but it was worth the temporary discomfort, for a glance out of the corner of her eye confirmed that Christopher Taylor’s head was turning along with the rest.
