As Marlee let herself in the gate to Stella’s back yard, she observed one of her least favorite people from campus: Asshat. Professor Bob Ashman was a long time academic at Midwestern State University and an expert on all topics. His nickname, Asshat, was derived from a bastardization of his surname and the fact that he liked to wear all kinds of hats. Today, Asshat sported a sea-captain’s hat and looked very nautical in his blue and white striped t-shirt and khaki shorts.
Observing Asshat talking to a new professor with glazed-over eyes, she moved around them and greeted the host. Stella DeVry was dressed in sporty jean capris and a white blouse. She gave Marlee a warm welcome and placed her pie on the table along with the salads, casseroles, chips, dips, and desserts brought by the other party goers.
“Thanks so much for coming!” Stella exclaimed. Where she found the enthusiasm at the end of the spring semester, Marlee had no idea. Stella, in her late fifties, taught chemistry and was only a few years from retirement, so that explained the upbeat mood. Then Marlee observed a clear plastic glass with a red substance within. She guessed it was some sort of vodka cranberry concoction, thus giving further explanation of Stella’s effervescent attitude.
“Sure. Thanks for inviting me.” Marlee looked around the back yard to see who she wanted to talk with and who she wanted to avoid.
“You sure have a bad sunburn,” Stella stated, as she reached for her class of red liquid and took a mighty slug. How she managed to keep her scarlet colored drink from dribbling on her white shirt was a mystery to Marlee.
“Yep, fell asleep outside grading exams yesterday.” Marlee was already losing interest in the conversation and surveying the crowd to see who she could talk to once she broke away from her hostess. She knew Stella probably had less information than she did about Dean Green. Marlee had a limited amount of energy and patience that afternoon and decided to maximize her time by only associating with those who would know the scoop.
“That’s too bad…” Stella’s voice trailed off as soon as she realized she no longer had an audience. Marlee walked over to Amos Sharp a professor from the English Department. Amos was a long-time fixture in the MSU English Department and taught creative writing. He was also an incurable gossip. With him was his student muse, Grayson, which most people suspected was the undergraduate the professor was sleeping with that semester. Amos always called them his muses, but they were really nothing more for him than the flavor of the week. Grayson would be gone soon and replaced by another new, shiny, adoring student.
“Marlee, you survived the end of the semester,” called out Amos as she approached him. He wrinkled his nose as she came closer. “Do you smell pickles?”
“Nope.” Marlee knew he caught a whiff of her vinegar sunburn tonic but was not going to get into that discussion with him.
“I don’t suppose you’ve heard the big news?” Amos was ready to dish, as were most faculty members, but Amos took it to a higher degree. In addition to digging for information and passing it on to whoever would listen, Marlee suspected he added his own juicy details, just to add some creative flair to the story.
“Are you talking about our illustrious dean?”
“Ah, you have heard.” Amos was disappointed and it showed on his face. He immediately perked up, however, when Marlee began to ask questions.
“Amos, why was Dean Green terminated? I heard it was for something other than the sexual harassment of somebody at the library.”
“Yes, it was for something much more scandalous than that. He lied on his application,” the gossipy prof said with smug satisfaction.
Marlee was puzzled. What could the dean have lied about that would result in immediate suspension? “Did he kill someone?”
“Puh-lease,” Amos said with a flourish of his hand. “This is South Dakota. You don’t lose your job just for killing someone. It was much more devious.”
Knowing Amos was waiting for more questions before he would continue, Marlee asked, “Well, what was it? What did he lie about?”
“Several things. First, his name is not Ira Green, it’s Reuben Ira Green. He went by his middle name here so his background could not be traced as easily. Reuben Green was not just a professor of biochemistry and then an associate dean before he came to MSU. He was the president of Keystone State University in Pennsylvania for three years before he was charged with sexual harassment and demoted back to professor status. When Green interviewed here he told us he was interviewing because he wanted to move to a smaller school where he could make a bigger impact on the faculty and students. I was on the search committee and talked to him myself. What he failed to mention was that he had been terminated at Keystone State due to several separate instances of sexual harassment. He’s being sued by at least three different women right now.”
“What the hell! How did this all come to light?”
“Somebody who knew Green from his tenure as president at Keystone State notified the MSU president and it took off from there,” Amos said.
“How was this not discovered during the interview process? Didn’t anybody check his references before he was hired?” Marlee couldn’t believe someone with this type of a past could just waltz into Elmwood, South Dakota and begin a career as a university administrator.
“We dropped the ball on that,” Amos said, taking partial ownership of the debacle. “The members of the search committee contacted his references, but as you know, supervisors cannot tell the whole story for fear of being sued by the applicant. Everyone we talked to gave him a glowing reference. There was no hint of impropriety on Green’s part.”
“Didn’t anyone on the search committee know someone at Keystone State that they could unofficially ask about him?”
Amos shook his head. “Like I said, we dropped the ball. We were trying to fill the position in a limited amount of time. When Green came to campus, he made a great first impression. We thought we’d be lucky to have him here. Of course, that all changed once he revealed his true vulgar personality.”
“How about an internet search? Did anybody do that?” Marlee continued, gob-smacked at how Green was able to slip into a deanship at MSU.
“Look, I don’t know why that wasn’t checked.” Amos was becoming defensive, assuming Marlee was judging him for the failures of the whole search committee.
“It could’ve happened to any of us on a search committee,” Marlee lied to smooth Amos’ ruffled feathers. She had a background in criminal justice, both educationally and professionally, so this type of boondoggle would not have occurred had she been on the committee.
Amos nodded at her concession and Grayson nodded as well, ready to mimic the English professor’s every thought and action.
“Where’s Dean Green—um, I mean former-Dean Green—at now?” Marlee asked. After all the trouble Green had caused her over the years, she was secretly enjoying his fall from grace.
“I heard he was going to Florida. He and his wife already vacated their apartment and left town,” Amos reported.
That must have been why he had all those maps on his desk when I met with him yesterday to get my papers signed. He knew the cat was out of the bag and he was planning his departure to Florida, Marlee thought as she finished up the conversation with Amos Sharp and his adoring student, Grayson. The sun was peeking through the clouds now and it was causing Marlee’s skin to sting. After chatting with a few more people and not uncovering any additional information, she thanked the hostess and went home to think about all she learned about Dean Reuben Ira Green that day.
Education and knowledge are not the same thing. One can be purchased.
Chapter 5
The remainder of the weekend was without drama. Marlee finished her grading and submitted the final grades to the registrar’s office. Let the bitching begin, she thought, as this was typically the time when a student with a low final grade would contact her to express utter shock that they failed the class. Then Marlee would need to launch into a detailed email explanation of h
ow the grades were calculated and that no matter how the test scores were added up, the student still failed the course.
Vince Chipperton called twice, both times suggesting he come over to her house. Marlee lied and told him she needed to rest before she embarked on her week long Criminal Justice To Go class. The real truth was that she did not want him to see her looking as she did. What started as a small fever blister had fortunately been stopped with the aid of generous applications of some left over prescription cold sore gel found in the back of a bathroom drawer. That, however; was the end of Marlee’s good luck.
Her face was still bright red and swollen. The skin was pulled tight from the sunburn, giving her the appearance of someone who just underwent an aggressive facelift. Marlee’s arms, neck, lower legs, and feet were tomato red and still felt hot to the touch. The last thing she wanted was hunky Vince Chipperton getting an eye full of her sunburned self. She wouldn’t see him all week while she was on the road, and her sunburn would be healed up by the time she returned to Elmwood.
By the time the sun came up on Monday morning, Marlee had her bags packed for the week-long Criminal Justice To Go. Pippa, her gray Persian kitty, would be cared for by her friend, Diane Frasier. Marlee would return Friday evening, ready to have absolutely no contact with any students until the start of the fall semester. One week on the road with students became tiring after about three hours. There were constant student questions, behavioral issues to address, timing snafus, and a host of other expected and unpredictable problems.
Stopping by the donut shop before her initial meeting with the students on campus, Marlee procured a selection of rolls and donuts for the students. By Wednesday she would hate most of them, but today she was full of energy and good will toward those she taught.
Ten students were enrolled in the course and Marlee was allowed an assistant to help her control the herd. Marlee’s assistant was Marcus Johansen, a criminal justice major who just graduated the week prior. He had taken Criminal Justice To Go two years earlier, so he knew what to expect. Marcus already had full-time professional employment lined up, but he would not begin until mid-June; thus, he had some free time, and was willing to help Marlee with her class. Plus, he knew it would look good on his resume when he applied for other jobs in the criminal justice field. Marcus was mature and Marlee knew she could count on him to assist her with the class while they were on the road.
The ten students in the class were comprised of six traditional aged students from MSU, one non-trad from MSU, and three students from the University of South Dakota in Vermillion, who were interested in the class but had nothing similar at their home institution. Marlee was familiar, to some degree, with all seven of the MSU students. The six students in their early twenties were all criminal justice majors and had taken two or more classes with Marlee in the past few years. Some had taken every single class she taught up to that point. The non-trad was none other than Roxie Harper, the work-study student from the library who was sexually harassed by Mean Dean Green. This would be only the second class Roxie had taken with Marlee. The three students from USD were unknown, but they all appeared to be in their early twenties.
“Okay, I think we’ll get started. We have a lot to do,” Marlee said as she moved to the front of the classroom to talk to the students. She passed the box of rolls around the room, encouraging students to partake. Marlee had already been over the rules, obligations, and expectations of the class with each student, either in person or through email, yet she knew the importance of reiterating them.
“So everyone has their rooming situation figured out, right?” No one spoke to the contrary, so Marlee took that as an affirmation. The class would be on the road for five days, thus they would be staying in motels in various towns for four nights. Most students preferred to share a room with one or more students to cut costs, although there were some who insisted on single rooms. The rooming situation for each town had been figured out ahead of time and reservations made at the motels. Luckily, Marlee was able to secure her own room since she was the professor. She had no intention of sharing a room with students only to find that she drooled, snored, and talked in her sleep.
“And everyone knows how they’re getting from point A to point B, right?” Again, no answers from the students, so Marlee assumed it meant everything was under control. The class operated with students taking their own transportation since accessing a university bus was out of the question. Marlee and her student assistant would ride together in Marlee’s vehicle while the other students made arrangements regarding who would drive and who would be a passenger.
“Okay, with those two things out of the way, I just want to go over a few ground rules which will make the whole week a lot easier on everybody. First, be on time. We are on a strict schedule and don’t have time to wait for someone to get breakfast because they overslept. You can get wake up calls to your motel rooms if you think getting up on time might be a problem. We are scheduled at specific times for the tours at each of the facilities we will be visiting. The people there have taken time out of their schedules to give us the tours and answer our questions. Let’s do our best to get to our locations on time. If someone is late then they may miss the tour of a particular facility, which will negatively impact their grade.”
With no interruption for clarification, Marlee continued. “Second, be respectful to the people working at the facilities. You don’t have to agree with everything you see and hear while on the tours, but you do need to show respect. Again, the people working there are under no obligation to show us around and answer your questions. If you make rude comments or act disrespectfully then they probably won’t let us do tours next year. You’ll have ruined the experience for future classes.”
The donut box was picked up from a desk top in the back of the classroom and began to circulate again as some students were making their second selections. Marlee was starting to wish she had taken one before they were all gone.
“And finally,” she continued, “be respectful of the people who are held at the facilities. Yes, I know they have committed crimes and done some terrible things, but they are still people and deserve respect. They are not animals in a zoo just to be stared at and mocked. If any of them try talk to you or harass you, don’t say anything. Just ignore them or move away. No good will come of you shouting back insults if they’re rude to you. Most will just watch you walk by and you’ll be safe, but there may be some catcalling, especially at the State Penitentiary.”
“Are there guards around to protect us?” asked one of the USD students.
“We aren’t taken into dangerous areas. If there’s a problem, then the warden will cancel the tour or reschedule it. If a problem does arise, follow the directions given by myself, my student assistant Marcus Johansen, and the staff at the facility. I’ve never had a situation arise before and I don’t believe the man who taught this class before me did either. The worst that’s ever happened were some lewd comments.” Marlee wanted the students to be aware that there was always a possibility of danger, but not to be so consumed with it that they forgot to observe and ask questions.
The student who asked the question nodded her head and Marlee continued. “The last thing to keep in mind is that this is the time to ask questions about employment and internships. You might make a connection now with a staff member that can help you get an internship or even a job later on.” Marlee had several former students working at the prisons, jails, treatment centers, and juvenile facilities throughout the state. Many of them found the career they loved, while some used the job as a means of gaining experience so they would be seen as more valuable when applying for the job they really wanted, like probation officer or FBI agent.
After a few more directives and responding to questions, Marlee passed out the syllabus which detailed the class’s schedule for the next week. Students had specific directions, so there should be no chance of one or more student cars getting lost. The class drove nearly a thousand mi
les during the week, so it was essential that everyone know how to get to the facilities in the shortest amount of time.
“Our first stop today is in Huron, to visit juvenile inpatient treatment programs, then we go to Pierre to tour the women’s prison. We’ll leave Pierre when we’re finished at the women’s prison and stay overnight in Chamberlain,” Marlee reported. “Let’s go. We have to be in Huron at 1:00 to start the tours. You’re on your own for lunch before the tour. We’ll be eating supper at the women’s prison tonight. And by the way, the food at some of the facilities is pretty bad. You don’t have to eat it, but just don’t make rude comments. You can always hit a Burger King drive-thru when we’re done with the tours if you don’t want to eat the food that’s served.” Marlee knew food was of utmost importance to the students. They weren’t so much concerned with quality as they were with volume. She did her best to keep them informed of tours that included meals.
As they walked out of the building, Marlee noticed the t-shirt worn by the male from USD. “Um, you’ll have to change before you go into any of the facilities today.”
He looked at her blankly. “Why?”
“Look at the picture. It’s not appropriate to wear that in any of the facilities, but especially not to the program that helps kids with sexual adjustment issues,” Marlee said pointing to his shirt which featured a cartoon depiction of a man having sex with a horse.
Before you can trust the message, you have to trust the messenger.
Chapter 6
The class was on the road. As Marlee drove her vehicle out of town, Marcus talked about his student experiences in taking Criminal Justice To Go a previous year. They were both excited about what the students would learn during this week, as most of them had never toured a prison or treatment facility. The prisons completed a criminal background check on all the students in the class to ensure no one had a prior record. A student with a criminal history was probably not going to be employable in the criminal justice field; plus, officials at the facilities did not want “past customers” touring the facilities and learning about the security measures.
Murder to Go Page 3