“Malloy, the campus security man,” she hissed. Then she turned and stormed off in a huff.
Brett looked at me and shook his head. We drove to the College and headed toward the Humanities Building. As I moved toward the door, Brett looked toward the Arboretum. “Hold on. We still have a little light. Show me where you ran into those guys.”
I know “they” say you need to get over your fear. If you fall off a horse, you need to get back on, and all those other sayings. It didn’t help to know that in my brain. I felt my blood pressure rise as we approached the entrance and started down the path. Brett put his arm around me. I took a deep breath as the path turned to the cut out area where they had been.
“It was here. The beady eyed guy was over there, and the other three men, here, and the woman here.” I pointed to the locations and my eyes returned of their own accord to where the leader had stood.
Flashlight out, Brett covered the area carefully. He reached into another pocket and pulled out a baggie. I watched him put a couple of cigarette butts in it. Then the baggie went in his shirt pocket. Not for the first time, I reflected that doing Brett’s laundry could be disastrous if the person didn’t check each and every pocket. He always seemed to pull things out of his pockets, almost reminiscent of a very male version of Mary Poppins’ big bag. He went through the same process of bagging stuff from the ground a couple of more times.
As he stood, back to me, in the same place as the leader, he asked, “Sher, did you notice if these branches were damaged? It almost looks like there was a tussle of sorts and someone landed in the azalea here.” He turned and looked at me, waiting for my answer.
“Sorry, that was where beady eyes stood and I tried real hard not to make eye contact or look around. I just kept looking over there where the path continues,” I said as I shifted my gaze to the path.
Brett walked over toward there, then stopped and picked up something else and put it in a baggie. It looked like a piece of cloth. He shrugged as he turned back to me. “Okay, now let’s check out your office.”
We went back to the Humanities Building. It was somewhat comforting that the door was closed and locked. I used my key and in we went. Brett looked thoughtful as he asked, “Do you think Priscilla could have trashed your office? It sounds like it was more malicious than anything else. It would explain why nothing was stolen. And her comment about minding your business? Could she have written that note?”
I sighed, dismayed to even consider Priscilla. “Based on that interaction, yeah, I guess both are possible. I never realized she resented me that much. I never did anything to her – at least not that I know of.”
I shared with him her reactions to the boxes on Thursday. Shaking my head again, I added, “But does she know how to pop a lock? I know it’s not rocket science but she doesn’t strike me as someone into breaking and entering. Besides, this was very neat, Brett.”
About then we approached my office. Kneeling down to look at the hole where the knob had been at eye level, he pulled the flashlight out of his pocket and checked both sides. Then he was the one looking stymied. “This is pretty clean. Barely a scratch around the edges and no damage to the door at all.”
Opening the door, Brett asked me to describe what the office had looked like before we cleaned it up. He asked if Kim or I had taken a picture. I told him we didn’t but that when Officer Matthews came out, he had taken pictures. I also told him that Matthews took the knob.
Always the Detective, Brett then asked lots of questions about Malloy, why he hadn’t already called Cold Creek Police, and so on. His last question was, “So what’s the relationship between Priscilla and Malloy? He probably has the know how to pop the lock.”
My mouth dropped and I didn’t have anything to say. Priscilla had said that she heard about the break in from Malloy. She didn’t strike me as the “work on Sunday” type of faculty member. On the other hand, she was in charge of the College Help Line. I guessed that if the students working there had a problem, she might have to come on campus. She could have run into Malloy while she was over at the Student Union and Student Counseling Center. Perfectly innocent. I shared these thoughts with Brett. He didn’t agree or disagree.
“Another person I wouldn’t mind arresting and you say she’s innocent. Too bad.” He barely skipped a beat before continuing, “So you and Kim got here, had words with Malloy, and then Matthews came by. Try and recall what happened.”
I did the best I could to tell him everything that went down, including how Matthews was the one who sent Malloy to check the box downstairs and the boxes in the other buildings. I could tell from his expression that Brett was trying to get his head around something. I just waited.
“Okay, so I can see if someone is worried about what the notes said, stealing the boxes, or tearing them off the wall. Why destroy them? Obviously it wasn’t the same person who left the warning unless she or he changed her or his mind about leaving it. But why destroy the ones in all the buildings? Any thoughts, Sher?”
I could see his point. “My thought when I saw the office was that someone found the boxes empty and got mad. He or she then trashed the place. I didn’t give much thought about the ones in the other buildings. But you’re right. The person who left the ‘Dr. H’ note would know exactly which building he or she left it in. No need to go to other buildings. He might have gone to other buildings to be sure we didn’t know which building that note was left in?”
“Yeah, that makes sense. Just try to make all the boxes the same,” Brett said, still deep in thought. “Okay, so show me where the box was left in this building.”
We closed my door, not that it would stop anyone who wanted to get in my office, and went back downstairs. I showed him where the box had been. I explained to Brett where and how we had attached the box to the bulletin board. As intended, it was on a main hallway. It was pretty clear that whoever trashed the box did it after the faculty and the custodial staff had left.
Brett continued to be thoughtful as we left the campus and drove back to my house. Back at home, we went out back with Charlie and then watched some television. He explained that on Monday he would need to go a bit past North Shore, but if it was okay with me he’d commute from my house. I knew I was smiling and blushing when he chuckled and leaned in to kiss me.
Chapter 16
Monday morning started the same as most Mondays. That is if I ignored the questioning glances as Terra and Ali looked at my door. I barely had a chance to ask Ali how her dinner with Officer Hirsch played out. She said it went fine, no big deal. Of course, meanwhile she blushed even worse than I do. Terra laughed and then followed Ali back to the office area. Then Jim came by and checked out the door just as I headed off to class.
By the time I got back from teaching, someone from maintenance was working on the door. He assured me a new lock would be found and installed by the end of the day. In the meantime, my office door had a gaping hole where the knob should be.
Coffee on my desk, I started to work on my email and prep for the rest of the week. Inevitably, I discovered which of the trashed documents were most important when I needed them. Although it was irritating, between the Internet and the backup saved to an external hard drive, I was able to get some work done. I needed a break and was about to go down to Georg’s for another coffee, when Mitch knocked on the door as he bent to look at the hole.
I laughed at him as he shook his head. “I heard. So I guess you aren’t doing anything private in your office today, huh?”
“Not hardly. Maintenance said they’ll have it finished by the end of the day.”
Mitch came in and sat down, still shaking his head. “You can hope. College maintenance isn’t as efficient these days now that they contract out. Kim said you and she got some of the notes before the boxes were trashed. Anything interesting? I gather the idea has now been trashed?”
“You could say that,” I answered. I realized that was what we had decided, mostly by default.
Mitch shook his head and asked, “Kim told me about the note to you directly. So have you figured out who calls you “Dr. H”? Do you think it was just a warning or what?”
“No and I don’t know. I don’t know that anyone has ever called me ‘Dr. H’, at least not to my face. The note was vague and didn’t make any threats – just MYOB. That was the second warning of sorts. Whoever it is didn’t include an ‘or else’ so it’s hard to consider it as a threat. It is still disconcerting though.”
With a nod, Mitch shifted the conversation to the other notes and a focus on student thoughts about safety on campus. We discussed the need for a self-defense class for the umpteenth time. That had come up in the fall as well. Kim and I had been talking about taking self-defense classes all year. We just hadn’t figured out who could teach it or when.
As with so many things, once the crisis passed, the class was put on a back burner. Now, it needed to move back to a front burner. At the same time, we had managed to get training modules set up for faculty and students on sexual harassment in the fall. I felt good about that at least.
We joked a bit about the artwork and focus on basketballs. As a small private college, Cold Creek never had a competitive sports program, though there were some intramural activities associated with the Rec Center. Mitch recalled one time there had been a student-faculty softball game. Neither of us knew if there was a group of students who played basketball. The major universities and some other colleges in Virginia certainly had basketball, but not all Division I.
Still, thanks to the media, most everyone was aware of the tournaments and March Madness, whether they were interested or not. Although it wasn’t clear if it was that Cold Creek College didn’t have a basketball team or that gambling was pretty much limited in Virginia to the horse track, neither of us had heard a lot of talk about bracketology on campus.
I brought up the comments from Officer Matthews and Brett about the buildings being unlocked. Mitch didn’t have much to add. With no obvious threat and security checks, upgrading the locks or putting in security cameras had not been a priority. Perhaps the Cold Creek College community needed to be a bit more mindful of security and safety measures.
After we ruminated on security for a while, we chatted about the upcoming awards dinner and other end-of-year activities. Not surprisingly, our conversation returned to Justin Blake’s murder. I told Mitch what Marty Cohn had shared with us about the support Clive was getting. I also asked Mitch if he knew any good character witnesses. He gave me a few names to pass on to Cohn. We walked down the hall together, Mitch off to his office, and me to grab a quick lunch before my next class.
The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Each time I went back to my office, I hoped to see a door with a lock. I was about to call maintenance for a status check when Max came by.
“Sheridan, I just heard about your office! Why would they break into your office? Did they take your computer?” he rattled from the doorway, arms waving.
“Max, they didn’t steal anything. Maintenance is working on replacing the lock, though I don’t know why it’s taking all day,” I explained, my impatience coming through.
“You know this is your own fault. It’s your involvement with that detective. That’s what I think, Sheridan. And these murders, who is going to want to work here? But I think your detective needs to be looking at that Todd Flatts. You agree, right? He’s the right demographic to have friends like Justin Blake. I mean, he’s the same age and he hangs out with students.”
When Max finished, I hesitated before answering to gain control. I opted to let his references to Brett just slide over me. “Max, I’m not sure anyone knows why Justin was here. Did you ever see him with Todd?”
“Well, no, but …”
“Max, I haven’t spent much time with Todd this semester. He’s only been here since January. I’ll agree that he’s young. There are a lot of people in that age range, you know.”
“I just have a feeling. You know I never liked him. I just don’t trust him, Sheridan,” Max sputtered. Then he turned and walked away. I placed the call to maintenance to check the status of my door and of course I got voice mail. I left a message.
My computer and phone alerts signaled incoming email and I was back at work. One email caught my eye with “Too bad Dr. H” in the subject line. A bit anxious, I opened the message. Although almost comical in the way the person had pasted photos of cut out words in the message, the intent was clear. I needed to mind my own business. This time there was an “or else”. A picture of shattered glass followed the message. I had to admit it was pretty impressive the way the pasted words on the email message looked about like I’d imagine they’d look on paper.
I stared at the message for a few seconds before I moved. I picked up my phone and called Brett.
“Hello? Sher? Are you there?”
“Oh, sorry, Brett. I got distracted for a minute,” I explained. I hesitated and told him I was forwarding him an email.
“Got it. Have you shared this with anyone else? Reported it?” he asked after a few seconds.
“Uh, not yet. Just you. Who should I report it to? Technology Services? College Security? Cold Creek Police? I assume someone can trace the IP address?”
“Not Malloy.” After a few seconds, he added, “Try calling Hirsch directly. He seems to have some brainpower. The Chief may not like it though.” I heard the sharp intake of breath as he spoke and knew he was still angry at the Chief.
“I agree on Hirsch. If Chief Pfeiffe gets upset, I’ll tell him I didn’t want to bother him when he has this big murder to solve,” I responded. I could tell Brett caught the sarcasm from his chuckle.
We talked a few minutes and then I called Cold Creek Police and asked for Officer Hirsch. The dispatcher took my name and number. When she asked what I was calling in reference to, I simply referred to Justin Blake’s murder. And then I waited.
I worked on some other stuff, but kept going back to the “Dr. H” email. I shook my head at the computer, so engrossed in thought I didn’t hear Kim at my door.
“What are you staring at Sher?” she asked. I just pointed to the screen and slid my chair out of the way. “Oh, my gosh! Sher, who is this? What’s with the broken glass? Why go to the trouble to do the newspaper word cuts on email? This is bizarre!”
I shook my head again. “My thoughts exactly. On all counts. I’m waiting on Hirsch to call me back to see if he can get someone to track down the account. I don’t understand how it all works but I’ve heard that there is a tag or something to the account.”
“And still no idea who calls you ‘Dr. H,’ huh?” Kim teased. It was obvious she knew the answer. “You’re not going to like this, but Marty – Marty Cohn, you know – he called. He asked his nephew if he knew of anyone who called you ‘Dr. H.’ His nephew told him it was pretty well known. The ‘H’ was for ‘hyperactive’ not ‘Hendley’, Sher.” I could tell she was trying real hard not to laugh, but she wasn’t very successful.
“Gee, Kim, did he ask his nephew what they called you?” I lobbed back at her. Pretty soon, we were both laughing. Nothing like a little laughter to cut through the tension.
We discussed the message a little bit more and then diverted to speculation about Hirsh and Ali. Kim described Ali as being very close-mouthed but turning various shades of pink when asked about the date. Pretty much my impression as well. We both decided that my call would probably warrant a visit from Officer Hirsch. If for no other reason, it would give him a good excuse to come by.
Kim mentioned that Marty said the Chief and District Attorney were pushing for an early trial date. Voices and dragging noises interrupted our conversation. Two maintenance men lumbered to the door to my office. A third followed behind and carried some tools. I was befuddled over how many maintenance men it took to replace a doorknob. I decided it was a good time to go visit Terra and Ali for a bit. Kim opted to go back to her office.
In the main office, Terra and Ali were working
on something but stopped when I walked up to their desks. We chatted a bit and I asked them if they’d ever heard any one refer to me as “Dr. H”. Ali smiled about as broad as I’d ever seen her smile and Terra just chuckled. Seems the “Dr. H” label was nothing new. Obviously it was not limited to a few students. We joked about it for a while. I knew when Officer Hirsch arrived by the expression on their faces.
“Dr. Hendley, you called? You have some information?” he asked. Then he smiled at Ali and she looked embarrassed. Once again, it was rewarding to know I wasn’t the only one who embarrassed easily.
“Yes, I need to talk with you and show you something. Can we go to my office?” I hoped my door was finished.
He nodded and with another look to Ali, followed me down the hall. The maintenance crew was still there, but the doorknob was in place. As they worked on the locking mechanism, I realized that my office door now had a deadbolt in addition to the usual knob lock. I must have stared at it for a bit. Security must have decided I had the Crown jewels or something else of value in my office. Hirsch calling my name brought me back to the present.
I walked into the office with him following behind me. I logged back in and pulled up the email. I backed away from the desk, and waved him over. He sat down, read the email, and then looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders and he turned back to the computer.
“Ma’am? Here are your keys. This one will work the knob. This one will work the dead bolt,” one of the maintenance men said. I took the keys and thanked them. I stepped out of the office and closed the door. I made sure both keys worked and the dead bolt worked. I thanked them again. They left and I went back in the office where Hirsch waited.
As I opened the door, he was talking to someone. He held up a finger and I waited. I started to put stuff away, filed papers, and walked around. He made a few more calls and then finally turned his attention to me.
Murder in the Arboretum (Cold Creek Book 2) Page 10