Charlie barked as we turned the corner. We walked into a small clearing, one of the cut-outs, and stumbled on a group. All conversation stopped, replaced with intense silence. Four males and one female stared at us. The way they stood, they effectively blocked the path ahead. They looked a bit tense and that tension was contagious.
“Hi! Nice day for a walk, don’t you think?” I offered as a friendly gesture though the tension wasn’t exactly conducive to friendliness.
The others looked to the oldest looking male who responded with a glare and snarled, “What are you doing here?” His snarl and tone drew growls from Charlie.
Soothing Charlie, I answered, “Just taking my dog for a run and checking out the flowers. With all the excitement this week, I didn’t get to come see what was blooming.”
I hoped that my increased discomfort and distrust of this group wasn’t obvious. I concentrated on appearing calm. I soothed Charlie some more rather than make eye contact. I certainly didn’t want to appear to be a threat. Besides, while I soothed Charlie, I could observe them without being obvious.
The leader of the pack looked to be in his early thirties, average height, on the muscular side. He had a heavy beard. His hair was long and messy, falling into his face. It looked coarse and he was definitely in need of a good barber. All in all his piercing blue eyes amidst all the dark hair were intimidating. There was some kind of tattoo on his arm, but I couldn’t tell what it was.
The other three men seemed younger, maybe mid-twenties. Still, none of them looked like the typical Cold Creek students I saw every day. They were a little too rough around the edges for the private college set, even for the scholarship students. They didn’t look quite as rough and scruffy as the leader though. They stayed quiet, fidgeted some, and kept their eyes down.
Only the female, also probably in her twenties, made even fleeting eye contact with me. She had a tattoo of a rose on her wrist and her cropped black hair was frosted with hot pink and chartreuse stripes. Not the norm at this college for sure. She shifted her weight from one foot to another, the only sign that she too was nervous.
I didn’t know what I walked in on, but I was terrified. I did my best to keep calm and show a non-threatening expression as I stepped forward. “Well, Charlie and I are going to be on our way. I hope you enjoy your visit to the Arboretum.”
I held my breath and focused on the trail straight ahead. The two guys blocking it moved slightly and I rushed Charlie through. She still emitted a low growl and I kept up comforting words. I never looked back, but Charlie did a couple times. That and the occasional twig snap suggested to me that one of them followed us at least for a few minutes.
Thankfully, there was another curve in the path and another cutout about ten minutes later. I sat down on the bench and pulled Charlie into my lap. Although she’s a miniature Sheltie, Charlie weighs about 35 pounds. She’s not usually a lap dog. I held her in my arms and took some deep breaths. I was aware that my heart raced. I was drenched from sweat and Charlie licked the sweat from my neck. Realizing now how scared I was, I was glad I hadn’t wet my pants.
Charlie panted and I pulled out my water bottle and her collapsible bowl. We both drank and I tried to calm down. I didn’t hear any noises to suggest anyone was on the trail behind us. The silence made me feel better. Unfortunately, I had to figure out how to get back to the quad without using the path we’d just come down.
After a few minutes, Charlie and I walked a little further and found a place where the black and red paths intersected. We headed down the red trail, which I knew to be a more direct path back to the quad. I’m sure the flowers were still blooming and beautiful, but I didn’t see them.
I breathed with relief when we reached the quad. The open space and relaxed faces on the quad were the best things I’d ever seen. Students were still playing ball and lounging in the grass. I drove home. I thought about calling Brett or the Cold Creek Police or College security. But what would I say? I was intimidated by some tense, rough looking people? They scared me, but they hadn’t done anything. Maybe it was all my imagination, fired up from the murder on Monday. Maybe I just interrupted a private conversation. I decided to let it go.
I showered and changed my clothes. I felt a little better, though in the back of my mind I imagined I had interrupted a drug deal. The scene matched my internal, somewhat stereotypical picture of what a drug deal would look like.
I grabbed the envelope with the notes, and headed to Kim’s for dinner. She didn’t live far but on the other side of Cold Creek in an established gated town home community. I thought about buying in the same development when I moved here, but there were no town homes available. Kim had bought early, when the town homes were first built and she liked the security.
Kim opened the door before I even knocked. She was bubbling with excitement and I just followed her into her home. I chuckled as she talked about her day and the webinar she watched. She talked as she set the table and brought me up to date on her mother and her brother.
As we ate, she asked about my day. I opted to focus conversation on getting my house clean until after we ate. She obviously sensed something was up. As she cleared the table and brought coffees to the table, she said, “Okay, Sheridan, what are you not telling me? Did something happen with Brett?”
I tried to talk and the panic I’d felt on the trail flooded back. I knew my eyes were watering. Kim came over and tried to soothe me. She still seemed to think the problem was with Brett.
I finally managed to say, “Everything with Brett is fine. Well, other than that he wants me to meet Madison ...”
“What? Oh my gosh! So why are you all upset? You’re shaking.”
“It’s probably just the murder and my imagination. It’s probably nothing,” I said quietly as I took a few deep breaths. I wasn’t sure which of us I was trying to convince.
“You’re making me crazy Sher! What are you talking about?” Kim asked, her voice raised a bit. She looked about to shake me or slap me.
“I took Charlie for a run in the Arboretum today. There was a group of people that we ran into. They weren’t exactly friendly,” I explained. “Something was just off and I was scared. I’m sure it was just my overactive imagination. You know, watching too many episodes of crime shows on television. The murder and all.”
I went on to describe the group focusing in on the inane rather than my fear. We talked about the trends in men sporting facial hair. Somehow, the long hair and beard of the older man just made him seem all the more threatening, less civilized. But that certainly was a popular trend these days. More and more men seemed to have parted ways with their razor. More and more they also seemed at odds with a barber.
We both knew the whole discussion of facial hair was a diversion, but it did the trick. Kim agreed that if they weren’t doing anything obvious, I didn’t have anything to report to the police or College security. That topic about exhausted and calm returned, it was time to go through the notes and see if we had any clues.
We moved into Kim’s living room and I grabbed the envelope as my cell phone rang. I looked at Kim in alarm as caller ID indicated it was College security. The security office apologized for calling on a Saturday. The dispatcher went on to say that on a routine check of the Humanities Building, it appeared that my office had been broken into. The officer at the College needed me to come in and determine what if anything was missing. The dispatcher said the officer’s name was Malloy. I assured him I would be there in ten minutes.
When I told Kim what he said, she insisted on driving me to campus. We were both pretty dumbfounded. On the short ride, Kim kept checking her phone to be sure she hadn’t missed a similar call. The security car was in the parking lot and the security officer was waiting for us. I recognized him as the one I had seen on the quad several times since the murder. I introduced myself, showed my ID, and introduced Kim.
He didn’t introduce himself but his name badge read “Malloy.” The picture on the badge match
ed the middle-aged man in front of us. My initial impression was not positive. He seemed irritated and not particularly sympathetic or friendly. He was probably our age and didn’t seem to be in great physical shape, but he was built like a football player. He seemed put out by the situation rather than empathic or helpful.
We walked around to the front entrance and I asked him about the doors to the building. He said it looked like someone propped the front door open. Seeing the door open was what had prompted him to go inside.
Kim asked if any other offices had been broken into. He said no, only mine. That was not a good sign. We reached my office and the door was partly open, a hole where the knob should be. Whoever it was, they knew what they were doing.
I looked at Malloy and asked if the Cold Creek Police had been notified. He gave me a disgusted look. Mumbled something about waiting to see if anything was missing. I didn’t quite understand his reasoning. As he opened the door, he commented, “With this mess, it’s kind of hard to tell.”
Kim and I gasped in unison. Anything that had been on my desk was now on the floor. The boxes that had been stacked on the table were completely destroyed, torn in pieces all over my office. The parts to the knob were on the floor as well. To call it a mess was an understatement.
On the plus side, the computer and monitors were still there and not trashed. On the downside, my plant had been upended, dumped on the floor, and dirt was everywhere. I gasped. Kim asked again about notifying the police.
“Look ma’am. It seems to me that you must have gotten some student riled up, maybe you gave him an F. The stuff that would make for a burglary, like the computer there, he didn’t take them now did he? This is just plain vandalism. If you know who did it, then we’ll investigate. We don’t need the police.” He glared at Kim, obviously angry.
Kim and I exchanged glances. Stepping toward him, I stated very emphatically, “Mr. Malloy, I agree this is vandalism. I have no idea who would have done this.”
I continued, “Perhaps the police could help the investigation unless Cold Creek College security can dust for fingerprints? If this is just a student, don’t you think it’s possible that he or she left fingerprints on the door or the doorknob or the pot the plant was in? Are you going to make the call or shall I?”
He huffed a bit and pulled out his phone. He walked down the hall presumably to call the Cold Creek Police Department. Kim tapped my shoulder and whispered, “Do you think a student would do this? It had to be planned, Sher. Who carries around the tools to take apart a door knob or pop a lock?”
I sighed, irritated with Malloy’s logic. With a quick glance to see where Malloy was, I added, “I bet you can find out how to get past the door knob on the Internet. And it probably doesn’t take very sophisticated tools. On the other hand, the information boxes were destroyed, but not books or the computer? Something doesn’t seem right here.”
We stood there and looked at the mess until Malloy came back. He told us that Officer Matthews would be along directly. Then Malloy left to meet him in the parking lot. Kim and I walked back to her office. She opened her door cautiously and we sat down to wait. Neither of us said much other than establishing that we weren’t thrilled with Malloy.
We figured Matthews got the call because Hirsch was on his date with Ali. We talked about the possibilities there. Ali also was divorced, and other than the colleague who’d been murdered last fall, she rarely dated. Hirsch seemed like a good man and a lot smarter than Chief Pfeiffe.
After a few minutes, we heard Malloy and Matthews coming up the stairs. We left the comfort of Kim’s office to meet them at my office. Matthews greeted us and immediately bagged the parts of the knob. He made notes about the pieces of cardboard from the boxes. We explained what the boxes were for and he became a little more alert. “So someone may have wanted to know what was written on the notes?”
I quickly explained that the boxes were empty, that we had switched them out for the ones currently in various buildings. Kim nodded and I didn’t bother to add that the notes from those were now at her house. I trusted Matthews, but I wasn’t so sure about Malloy.
“Dr. Hendley, what buildings were the boxes put in?” he asked. I answered and Kim nodded in agreement. Then she added one I forgot. Then I remembered the one on the first floor of our building by the bulletin boards.
“Malloy, did you check the first floor? Have you checked all those buildings yet?” Matthews asked. At Malloy’s dropped jaw, Matthews added, “Could you do that now please?”
Malloy stomped off and Matthews cleared his throat. “Dr. Hendley, Dr. Pennzel, it’s quite possible those boxes are what whoever did this was after. Dr. Pennzel is your office okay?”
Kim explained that her door wasn’t touched and nothing in her office seemed to have been moved or taken. Matthews asked, “So how did he know the boxes were in your office, Dr. Hendley?”
Before I could answer, Malloy appeared with pieces of another box in his hands. He dropped the pieces in the trashcan. With a groan, he said he’d go check the other buildings. Matthews bagged the pieces from the trash and some from the floor.
“Okay, there is no point in dusting your door for prints, Dr. Hendley. I doubt anyone wipes down the door so there would just be too many. I don’t think it makes sense to bag every piece of paper on the floor either. I’m going to bag some larger and smaller pieces from the boxes. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” Matthews shook his head as he went about it.
His phone rang and he answered. We could hear but one side of the conversation. Then he told the person to collect it, whatever it was. He got off the phone and sighed. “That was Malloy, he found another destroyed box in the Tech Building. I get why the Rec Center and the Student Union aren’t locked up. Why aren’t these buildings locked up? Are there any classes at night?”
Kim and I shook our heads. Kim answered, “No night classes. The main doors have old automatic locks, but most times they don’t lock. Other than in offices and classrooms that do lock, there isn’t much of value. I mean, yeah, there are some sofas and chairs on the first floor, but all the electronics and the like are locked up in classrooms or offices. And I don’t think anyone has ever reported a theft before.”
“Most of us don’t even lock our offices during the day if we’re in and out. Mariana, our custodian, goes around before she leaves and checks all the classrooms on the first floor as she does her last rounds,” I added. I had been in one of the classrooms several times when she came by to lock up. She hadn’t been happy and insisted on waiting to be sure the door was locked when I left.
Matthews answered another buzz and after his “uh-huhs”, he looked at us and told us Malloy found the same thing at the next two buildings. Matthews grunted in disgust. He told us he was going to wait for Malloy and then take all the pieces he had collected in to be processed. He suggested I call someone to fix the lock in the morning and gave me the name of a locksmith. He left to wait for Malloy.
Kim and I looked at the mess. I just wanted to cry. She convinced me to wait until the morning to tackle the cleanup. We went back to her house. On the way we both wondered aloud about what the notes in the envelope would tell us, if anything. It was now getting late but Kim made fresh coffee. I emptied the envelope onto the table.
Most of the notes commented on security or feeling unsafe. A couple mentioned this was the second murder on campus. One said “Aliens did it.” A couple I had initially spotted as doodling were of basketballs and one included a prominent coke bottle. Obviously some hadn’t quite left March Madness behind yet. Another was just a list of curse words. A couple mentioned specific drugs like ecstasy or Molly and a few others not familiar to either Kim or me. One mentioned cocaine. Nothing about social networking. And then there was one that just said, “MYOB DR H.” Kim handed that one to me and we just stared at each other.
“Do you suppose Priscilla wrote that one?” I suggested after relating how Priscilla said this was such a bad idea. Neither of us could quite se
e her doing that.
“So Sher, who calls you ‘Dr. H’? And who knew the boxes would be in your office? If Priscilla figured that you must be behind this and you as much as told Jim and anyone in the hall, then it could be anyone. At least anyone in Psychology,” Kim offered.
“Anyone who saw any of us yesterday afternoon as we picked up the boxes could have followed us back to the building. They would have seen you and Mitch bring the boxes to my office. I didn’t leave with them, so the assumption would be that they were in my office,” I answered.
“So, once they figured out there was nothing in those boxes, where do you think they’re going to look next?” she asked as she popped to her feet. I stood at the same time, grabbed my bag and headed for my house. Kim followed. I was relieved when I pulled into my driveway and my front door was closed. I waited for Kim and then went to the door and unlocked it. I could hear Charlie and that made me feel better.
Once inside, we both looked around and checked the back door. Nothing seemed to have been touched. It was possible whoever it was didn’t know where I lived. My address wasn’t listed in the College directory and I wasn’t in the phone book. As a single female, I had opted out on such things.
Kim and I sat in the living room and tried to talk it out. She insisted on staying over. She also was even more convinced that Clive Johnson was innocent. She asked me again about the people I ran into at the park. After going through it again, we both decided that maybe I wasn’t imagining the hostility there. We had no idea how it fit with Justin Blake though. I got her towels and a pair of my pajamas and she crashed in the guest room.
I turned in as well, but it took a while for me to fall asleep. Part of me was disappointed that Brett hadn’t called. The other part was glad I didn’t have to tell him about my office or the creeps at the Arboretum just yet. I didn’t want to ruin his weekend with his daughter. A part of me also didn’t want to rely on him to fix things. I snuggled with Charlie and eventually fell asleep.
Murder in the Arboretum (Cold Creek Book 2) Page 8