Unfortunately, as a four-year college, faculty didn’t have a lot of time for research. Most of us really weren’t interested. Tall, thin, balding, and very quiet described Doug. I don’t remember ever hearing Doug speak a full sentence unless it was part of a lecture. Doug was not particularly social. He was fairly predictable, right down to his khaki pants and polo shirt. Today he wore pale blue.
I nodded and then checked the next open door. Unfortunately, it was Max’s office. I knocked. He swiveled around, his black hair somewhat uncontrolled and in need of a cut. I must have startled him. His brown eyes opened wide.
“Sheridan, you wouldn’t believe. I‘m ready to get this experiment going, and somehow the materials I ordered haven’t come in. Terra told me I didn’t have enough money in my account, and that’s not right! I don’t know what her problem is,” was his opening tirade. Max was the other experimental psychologist in the department. He was by far the one most interested in research.
“Yeah, well, Terra and Ali do the books. They would know. Maybe you didn’t figure right what you had in your lab account. I bet they can give you a full accounting,” I suggested. Max tended to have these tantrums a lot. He was relatively young and had come to Cold Creek straight from graduation the year after me. He had big dreams of doing enough research to get to a better university.
“You doing okay otherwise – you know with the rec center and all,” I asked.
“Oh, I gave up on the rec center last year. Too crowded. I joined a private club where I don’t have to deal with the students. At the rec center, they always tried to talk to me. Are you looking for a place to work out?” he asked, oblivious to the excitement on campus. But that was not unusual for Max. Unless it was going to directly affect him, he didn’t seem to know about it. Now, if he had wanted to work out today, he might have been more interested.
“Uh, Max, someone died at the rec center this morning,” I offered as gently as I could.
Jumping out of his seat, he proclaimed, “I knew it, I knew there were safety problems. I knew those students would wreck something! See what I mean?”
“Max, someone was murdered. It wasn’t an accident,” I added. I wondered at the fact that he hadn’t asked the obvious question of who? It was certainly the question I wanted answered.
“Oh. Well, it better not get in the way of my lab work. I’d love to chat with you Sheridan, but I have work to do,” he responded. With that, he sat back down and turned back to his computer. Good thing or he would have seen me shake my head in disbelief. It was also probably a good thing that he did research with rats or mice, examining their use of cues, learning, and such. He sure didn’t seem interested in people and didn’t always pick up on social cues. I made my way back to my office with a wave at Kim. I also quickly let her know that it wasn’t Jim, Doug or Max who was murdered.
Chapter 2
I got back to work. The next thing I heard was the knock on my door and I looked up. I was a bit taken aback by the officer, as well as Joe, waiting for my attention. Joe looked excited and reminded me of a live wire. He about bounced around the 6-foot plus man in my door.
The man sported a badge, but not one I recognized. He was not part of college security or Cold Creek police. Before I could register which branch he was, he filled in some of the details for me.
“Ms. Hendley?” he asked, with a glance at the name plate on my door. “I’m Detective McMann with the State Police, ma’am. If I could have a few minutes of your time, it would be appreciated. The Department Head, uh,” he paused looking at his note paid. He continued, “Jim Grant, said you would help me with speaking with the faculty and the rest of the staff. Before Mr. Janis, here, interviews them.” This last part was said with some disdain and directed more at Joe Janis than at me. I suspected Joe was used to the man’s attitude toward reporters.
“Uh, certainly. Glad to help. What can I do?” I asked, not sure what I could offer. But I wasn’t surprised that Jim pawned him off on me. It happened a lot.
“Do you mind if I come in and ask a few basic questions, as a start?” he answered. He glanced around my office. I immediately jumped up and moved my bag off one of the two chairs in my office. I always dropped whatever I had in my hands on the closest chair when I came in and then had to move it.
“Sure, have a seat,” I answered having cleared off the seat. He came in, and with a look at Joe, emphatically closed the door.
He then must have had second thoughts, and asked, “Do you mind that I closed the door?” It occurred to me that detectives had as much trouble balancing the need for private conversations and the potential risk of being accused of inappropriate behavior as psychologists.
“Not a problem, Detective,” I responded.
“Okay, Ms. Hendley, about what time did you come on campus this morning? What did you observe?” he asked as he flipped the page of his notebook and began writing.
I told him what I could, but I hadn’t been near the rec center. I didn’t think it would help much. As he made notes, I noticed that he had good penmanship for a man. His nails looked almost manicured. This was a sharp contrast to my image of law enforcement as macho types.
On the other hand, he was tall and muscular, obviously was someone who worked at staying in shape. That was much more in line with my mental image. He wasn’t in uniform, other than his badge and gun that is. I assumed that he had a sports coat somewhere that normally would have hidden the gun.
As I ended with finding Terra and Ali in my office, he looked up. I noticed that he had hazel eyes with long lashes. I held his gaze for what seemed like forever. Such nice eyes, I almost had to shake myself. This man was definitely hot.
“So, you came in and they were looking out the window?” he asked as he stood and moved toward the window. “You do have an unblocked view of the rec center here. Did you notice anything else?”
“Nothing other than there were emergency vehicles over there. We assumed there had been an accident,” I answered with a shrug. It didn’t seem to me that I could help much. I smoothed out my slacks and straightened my top. I was suddenly a bit self-conscious about my appearance.
“Okay, so you saw Terra Janis. That would be the wife of Mr. Janis, correct? And Ali Bough, correct? Who else have you seen this morning?” he asked.
I had nodded to the first two questions. I responded to the next, first with Kim’s arrival from the rec center. Then I told him about my checking and finding that Jim, Doug and Max were in their respective offices. He asked more specific questions. I assumed he was trying to get a timeline or confirmation of a timeline for when each of us had first been seen.
“Thank you, Ms. Hendley. This is helpful. Mr. Grant said you could take me around to each of the faculty offices. He said you would make introductions and generally help me out. Would you mind?” he asked, making eye contact again. He had beautiful eyes.
“No problem. Let me save my work here. It’ll only take a second.” I clicked and saved, and then stood up. I should have been irritated, but I was also very curious. Besides he was good looking and pleasant. “Did you have any order in mind?”
“Whatever works. I’ll have to talk to each of you sooner or later,” he said.
It occurred to me this was likely the more tedious and boring aspect of his job. As I opened the door, Joe about fell in. I had to smile. He looked embarrassed, and the detective looked a bit perturbed. He shook his head at Joe as we left my office.
I went down the hall and figured that I would take him along the hall. We stopped first at Kim’s office. She wasn’t there, so we continued to Max’s office. Unrelenting, Joe trailed behind us.
I knocked on the now closed door. Through the window in the door, I could tell he had two students in there with him. One of them opened the door.
Max bellowed, “How dare you interrupt me! This is an important meeting regarding my research! Whatever you want will have to wait.” He then turned and signaled to the student to close the door.
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nbsp; The detective managed to slip his arm around me and blocked the door from closing. I slid over and out of the way, but not before I noticed that he smelled good. His arm had been warm as it moved past my shoulder. The brief contact aroused feelings I hadn’t felt in some time.
“Mr. Bentler, this will not wait,” stated the detective with emphasis. His jaw tensed and his back seemed to straighten if that was even possible.
“It is DOCTOR Bentler, I’ll have you know. And I have important work going on here,” Max stated in his usual emphatic tone.
“Dr. Bentler, then. I am DETECTIVE McMann with the State Police. I don’t care how important your work is. I need a few minutes of your time and of theirs as well.” His tone did not brook any argument or sway from my perspective.
In a final effort to assert himself, Max stood and tried to look impressive. His effort was somewhat futile given that he was obviously shorter and less in shape than the detective. “Fine, detective. Our meeting should be over in about 30 minutes.”
“Dr. Bentler, we will speak now. If you decline to speak now, I will consider obstruction of justice charges. Do you get my point, SIR?” the detective added as he stepped a bit closer to Max, who immediately sat back down. It would have been somewhat comical if not for the seriousness of the situation. The two students sitting there now looked quite terrified.
“Janet, Wesley, why don’t you come out in the hall with me for a few minutes? Let the Detective here speak with Dr. Bentler,” I suggested with a quick glance to the detective.
The detective moved slightly to allow them out. He stated more softly, “Please do not discuss the situation or allow Mr. Janis to speak with them” as he closed the door.
The three of us, and Joe, stood in the hall. The two students still looked terrified. They muttered about how mad Dr. Bentler was going to be with the delay. They were both seniors and Max was their thesis advisor. It was pretty clear they were intimidated by him. Sometimes it seemed that Max pushed the envelope with the students. We each had our own style and he was more bluster than bite. As we stood in the hall, at least once I heard Max’s voice raised in indignation. I imagined he was being his usual arrogant and hot-tempered self. His voice got so loud at one point that Janet blanched.
I suggested to the two students they might want to have a seat in the break room. I wasn’t even sure they knew anything had happened. I didn’t know if they knew why a detective was here and would be questioning them. The break room was catty-corner from Max’s office. They could at least sit down while they waited. And maybe not hear Max.
Joe asked me if McMann had told me anything. I shook my head to the negative. Joe and Terra were good people. I liked them, especially Terra. She sometimes made me laugh.
The door opened and McMann came out. He looked in my direction and I pointed to the break room. He went in there and closed the door. He still looked a bit irritated. That is often the case after an interaction with Max.
Max shut his door forcefully with a scowl on his face without saying a word to Joe or me. Joe and I waited. I hoped the detective would be a bit more subdued with Janet and Wesley.
Janet and Wesley came back out, McMann behind them. They were smiling and so was he. I found myself relaxing a bit. I also noted that he had a great smile to go with those hazel eyes. The students went back into Max’s office. McMann looked at me, pointedly ignoring Joe, and said, “Where next?”
I decided we should go see if Kim was back in her office. That interview was likely to take the longest since she had in fact been at the rec center. As we approached her office, I saw her flit out. She looked at me with a puzzled expression and said, “Be right back. Gotta grab something off the copier!”
“That’s Kim Pennzel. She was at the rec center this morning,” I offered to McMann.
“And would that be Dr. Pennzel? And should it have been Dr. Hendley?” he asked looking sheepish.
“Yes to both, but please, call me Sheridan. I’m not as hung up on the “Dr” thing as Max is,” I added.
“Sheridan, huh. Irish?” he asked. He let some of the official demeanor drop while we waited for Kim to return. His expression softened with a hint of a smile. I was a little surprised at his interest. It was usually Kim with her long red tresses and cute figure that garnered men’s attention.
“Aye, it is.” I answered with a smile. I considered asking about the ‘McMann’, but Kim came back. The light mood seemed to disappear almost as quickly as it had appeared.
“Kim, this is Detective McMann. He needs to talk to you,” I offered by introduction. Kim looked taken aback and very wary. I wasn’t sure if she was thinking about the murder or if she was remembering every speeding ticket she had ever gotten. She definitely paled, every freckle on her face standing out in contrast.
“Dr. Pennzel, this will only take a few minutes. Can we talk in your office please?” McMann said as he moved along with her into her office and shut the door. I sighed as I realized that I would be spending the rest of my morning waiting on him while he talked to everyone and anyone who was around.
While McMann was in with Kim, Joe took off down the hall. He probably went to hang with Terra and Ali. He’d probably get more from them than from McMann. The hall was pretty quiet for approaching mid-day. That wasn’t all that surprising considering the semester hadn’t started. I also suspected that word had spread quickly that McMann was going to talk to all of us. That meant anyone who was around probably was trying to be invisible.
Standing there waiting for McMann, I found myself thinking about him. He was definitely a nice looking man – tall, muscular, hazel eyes, dark curly hair, and great smile. Hmmm. He seemed pleasant enough, polite at least while doing his job. My mind started to conjure up other interactions.
Then I reminded myself of all the stereotypes and statistics related to police officers and military. I ticked them off – authority complexes, high divorce rates, high suicide rates, aggressive tendencies. I also reminded myself that he was probably married. Not to mention, I would probably never see him again. About then, the door opened and McMann came out.
“Thank you Dr. Pennzel,” he said to Kim. “Restroom around here?” he asked me. I pointed down the hall. With a “Be right back,” he walked off in that direction.
“You okay, Kim?” I asked. She still looked very pale.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’ve never been interrogated before and by so many different people in the same day. Why didn’t I pay more attention? I feel so bad,” she said. She was wringing her hands and biting her lip. I gave her a quick hug.
“Kim, you didn’t know what was going to happen. There’s nothing you could have done.” I tried to reassure her. She was very sensitive by nature.
“He wouldn’t tell me anything either. Does anyone know who it was? Was it random? Why are the State police involved?” she asked me.
“Don’t know, Kim. We might not know for some time. There’s nothing we can do. All I know is that Jim told him I would help,” I answered with a grimace. I glanced down the hall. McMann was on his way back.
McMann and I went around to Doug’s office. That interview lasted about five minutes if that. Knowing Doug, he may not have said more than five words. We moved down the hall and found Katie in her office. Katie’s interview took a little longer, but then she would enjoy the male attention. That was her style, a little flirty with the males. With McMann so good-looking, I was not surprised as the time ticked by.
As I waited on McMann, I realized I didn’t know much about Katie. I only saw her at department or college functions. She was probably my age and she had aged well. She was the petite athletic type who probably never saw a diet. She managed to have curves in all the right places. She also dressed to show off her curves, with her skirts a little short, her pants a little snug and her tops low cut and clingy. The thing was, on her it looked good. She had long blonde hair that always looked good.
She seemed to use her feminine wiles and the stereotypes of blond
es to her advantage with the men. But she was no ‘dumb blonde’ and seemed to hold her own on the academic side. She had received a number of awards for teaching and students seemed to like her.
I was getting hungry and I wondered how much longer I had to play ‘escort’. Coming out of Katie’s office, McMann thanked her and closed the door. Running his hand through his curly hair again, he asked, “Is there some place to grab a coffee and something to eat around here?” Obviously, he found this as tiring as I did, possibly more so.
With a smile, I explained there was a coffee shop on the first floor that had reasonable coffee and a light fare. He waved me forward and we made our way to Georg’s Café. The café was nothing fancy. It catered mostly to students and the occasional faculty member who didn’t leave campus to get something for lunch. Thankfully, the café reopened before classes started, but with lighter menus, shorter hours, and less staff. Once we got our beverages and sandwiches and sat down, McMann asked if I could describe the campus and its history for him. He explained that he was not very familiar with the college.
As I explained to him, the campus originally was home to a private school. It catered to the wealthy who wanted a boarding school for their children from kindergarten through high school. As the popularity of the ‘boarding school’ education declined, it was established first as a two-year college in the 1960s. It became a four-year college in the 1980s. With the cost of attending Cold Creek well above the state college or university, it still catered to those who could afford it. There were a few scholarships available for promising students who couldn’t afford the tuition. But not many.
Cold Creek College wasn’t a key player in any specific area, but prided itself on its offerings in technology and horticulture. The college hadn’t made it to the top 25 of private colleges, but the education students received was generally believed to be good. That was what the website and the administration boasted. From my experience it was true. Of the students I’d seen go through with a major in psychology, they usually were able to get into graduate school if they went in that direction. More importantly, they were admitted into competitive programs. The future goal of the trustees, though, was for the college to make it into that elite level.
Murder at Cold Creek College Page 2