Murder at Cold Creek College

by Christa Nardi

  I nodded, but still didn’t say anything. I still couldn’t tell where he was going or what the ‘something’ was about to be dumped on me.

  “So, Sheridan, why didn’t anyone report this? Are any of the other faculty being inappropriate? The college could be sued you know,” he ranted.

  I shrugged and didn’t have any answers for him.

  “I’m sure you appreciate my position. This whole thing is making me look bad. So, I am making you the sexual harassment officer for the department. Your first task will be to identify some training program or create one for the faculty and for the students,” he said, and then sat back as if he had done his job and no longer had responsibility for the problem.

  “Sir, I understand your position. I am not an ‘officer’ and have no desire to be designated as such. All of us should be aware of the potential harm and issues surrounding sexual harassment, or any other form of harassment. I will be glad to identify some programs and to oversee the dissemination of the information. And I do agree it might be appropriate for one faculty member to be identified as a ‘mediator’ for students if they have a problem with a faculty member.” I spoke very slowly and very carefully. I could tell he was listening by the rising color in his face.

  “Sheridan, I need someone – I need you – to take control of this. If you would rather be called a mediator, so be it. Give me something for training. The plan will be to implement it once things calm down. After they figure out who killed the idiot!”

  With that, he got up from the table and moved to his desk. I was obviously dismissed, but as I got up to leave, he added, “I told the Chancellor I was putting you on this, so don’t be surprised if he calls you.”

  I was dismissed. And dismayed. And a bit angry. I was angry at Max for shooting off his mouth, and then at Jim for saddling this on me, instead of taking responsibility to begin with. Not to mention all the male faculty who couldn’t seem to keep it in their pants. And the last thing I wanted to do was hear from the Chancellor. I shook my head at Terra but did not answer her raised brows. I was still befuddled, about to blow, and definitely not quite grounded when I ran into Brett outside my office.

  “You okay? Lunch?” he asked, his smile fading as he caught my expression.

  “No, I don’t think I’m okay. Lunch would be good. I’m hungry,” I answered in clipped speech, struggling to maintain control. Part of me wanted to scream and the other part wanted to cry.

  “Okay. I have an idea. How about if we grab sandwiches and go eat at the arboretum, and you can tell me what has you all out of sorts and your face all scrunched up,” he suggested gently.

  I nodded, and we went and got our sandwiches. As we walked toward the arboretum, Brett commented on the fountains. I didn’t say another word. We found the same bench we had sat on last week. I was working on getting myself under control. Eating my sandwich, I regained at least some of my manners, and offered, “I’m sorry. I never asked how you were.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder, and smiled. “Not a problem, I am going to make a wild guess I had a better morning than you did.”

  That seemed to be my opening, and I related my conversation with Jim. I also related my frustration and anger at Jim’s unwillingness to deal with this himself or with any other conflict. I vented for a few minutes and then stopped.

  “Okay, I feel a little better now,” I said with a smile.

  Brett gave me a squeeze, and then said, “Okay, can you explain what the jobs are of all these officials – the Chancellor, the President, the Provost, and the Board of Trustees? Seems like a lot of “chiefs” for a small private college.” I wasn’t sure if he was interested for some reason, just curious, or trying to redirect my focus.

  I did my best to explain. “In most cases a Chancellor would be the financial CEO for several campuses, say for a university system. We’re only one campus, but we have a Chancellor and he is still the financial CEO who answers to the Board of Trustees, which in turn provides the financial backing for the college. Basically, he is appointed by the trustees to keep an eye on the monies they invest. Keep in mind that because we are private, we are not funded by tax dollars.” I paused and he nodded.

  I continued, “The President answers to the Chancellor, but retains some of the financial decision-making and is also involved in fund raising, public relations, and such. He may have pet projects that are not under the purview of the Chancellor if he brings in the money for them. If there weren’t trustees, he would be the CEO. The Provost is the easiest one. He is in charge of the academic side of the college and has nothing to do with finance.”

  “So, Sheridan, why would the Chancellor and not the President want to talk to you about sexual harassment? Seems like it would be a public relations issue or a legal issue, not a financial issue,” Brett suggested.

  “I don’t know. Unless somehow the trustees got wind of the issues with Adam and students, and they are putting pressure on the Chancellor,” I countered. “The Chancellor is more or less their eyes and ears on the campus. And the pressure is getting passed right on down to me.”

  “Which one would deal with complaints of sexual harassment, aside from a murder?” he asked.

  “Hmmm. Actually that would be the Dean of Faculties in most institutions. Our Dean of Faculties is also the Provost, so I would think it would be the Provost’s office, not the Chancellor. I only hope I don’t hear from any of them. I certainly don’t want to hear from all of them!” I answered.

  “One more question. How often does a faculty member interact professionally with any of these administrators other than your Dean or Department Head now?” he asked. His questions were making me uncomfortable. Well, actually it was my answer.

  “We sit on the stage with them at graduation. We get policy updates once in a while. A meeting with one of them? Not unless you are in deep trouble, like you are being fired. And even then I suspect they still have a Dean or Head deal with a single faculty member,” I answered.

  “Well, don’t go borrowing trouble and think positive. You haven’t heard from anyone yet other than Jim. You are not in any trouble, so if you do, maybe it is to commend you and Mitch for your efforts?” he offered.

  He pulled me close and that helped. A lot. “I had a good time last night, you know, so I am not letting anything bad happen to you,” he added softly.

  “I had a good time too,” I answered. I leaned in and kissed him. I had intended it to be ‘just a kiss’, but he had other ideas. The kiss certainly put me in a better mood.

  As we walked back to the building, he told me he had a meeting with the Chief Pfeiffe and then he was going to stop by the Rec center. He said he would check back before he left for home. I went back to my office and before I had a chance to even think about checking my email, Mitch came in and shut the door.

  “So, I heard through the grapevine Jim dumped sexual harassment issues on you. Sorry,” he said shaking his head.

  In response to my puzzled expression, he explained, “Max was telling Jack and me about all the students he thinks Adam was messing around with. He said he was the only one to have the balls to let Jim know about it. Jim assured him he was going to put you to work on it right away. Thankfully, this was in the men’s room and not the hallway.” Mitch sighed and rolled his eyes.

  “Trust Max to blow everything out of proportion. But, it’s true. I am supposed to identify or create training materials for students and for faculty, and provide Jim with a plan of action. But I shouldn’t plan on doing anything until this whole thing has gone away,” I explained with a shrug.

  “That’s crap and he knows it. The policy is in the faculty handbook. This isn’t exactly the first time a faculty member has been involved with a student. Not even the first time for this faculty member if the truth were known. Hell, in a few other cases over the years, the faculty member married the student,” was his response, along with more head shaking. He leaned back and asked, “So what are you going to do?”

&nbs
p; “I haven’t figured it out yet. For now I will at least look and see if there is some modular training online he can require everyone to do. You know like the other useless ones on safety, security, and not using college vehicles or property for personal use,” I answered with a smirk. “The ones we all page through and then take the quiz to find out the answers and then take it again.”

  He chuckled and asked, “So how was your dinner last night?”

  I hadn’t told him about dinner, so I was a bit surprised at the question. I also could feel my face getting hot. I hesitated a nanosecond, and countered with, “Who was there and saw us? I know it wasn’t Wayne this time.”

  “No, it was Katie. She was almost as paranoid as Max this morning with thinking you were in bed with the enemy,” he answered. At my expression, he added, chuckling again, “Not literally, figuratively.”

  I sighed, realizing once again, the downside to a small town. “Yeah, well, Max seems to be the one talking to everyone and anyone. Jim basically told me to expect a call from the Chancellor on the sexual harassment stuff.” Seeing Mitch’s facial expression made me add, “I guess that doesn’t make any more sense to you than it did to me.”

  “That is odd. To say the least.” He shook his head. “So have you heard from him?”

  “Not by phone, for sure. But I haven’t checked my email since I spoke with Jim,” I answered.

  Mitch looked from me to the computer, and taking the hint, I brought up my email and scanned the list. There was one email from a name I didn’t recognize. An email from a Janice Wickson with a college email tag. I clicked on it and moved to the side so Mitch could read it as well.

  ‘Dr. Hendley, Chancellor Oakland asked me to contact you to arrange for a meeting with him. Can you be available at 10:30 on Wednesday? His office is on the third floor of the Administration building. Please advise if there is a conflict. Thank you. Janice Wickson, Administrative Assistant’

  That made it official. I had been summoned, with no apparent reason for the meeting. Mitch looked at me and shrugged. We spent some time discussing whether I should have someone go with me. In the long run, we decided that unless it looked like I was about to be fired, I probably should go to the meeting, and not offer any information.

  We also discussed if it would be a good idea to suggest his Admin Assistant sit in to take notes. We decided that might be tacky. Mitch shook his head and then he left. I stared at the screen, and took the message to mean I didn’t need to respond unless I couldn’t make the appointment. The Chancellor, or Janice most likely, had access to my teaching schedule.

  In between her classes, Kim came in to vent. She seemed like she was getting a better handle on the temporary overload. When I told her about my meeting with Jim and my summons from the Chancellor’s office, she was sympathetic. I worked on getting everything ready for both classes on Wednesday, and got started on Thursday. At least today, there was no seminar.

  Late in the afternoon, Brett came by. “It’s almost 4 o’clock and you’re not ready to go yet. What’s happening?” he teased.

  I answered, “Oh, I am ready, only I haven’t closed down the computer yet. Come on in, if you have a few minutes.”

  He did and as he shut the door, I asked, “Did I ever tell you I ran into the Chancellor’s wife when I went running with Charlie on Sunday?”

  “No, you didn’t mention it. Tell me about it,” he asked, looking a little concerned.

  “It was probably coincidence, but I took Charlie for a run in the park. We usually run about a mile and stop at the benches near the playground and people watch. Then we run the mile back to the car. On Sunday, when I sat down on a bench, this woman came and sat down as well. I recognized her from the memorial. She was the one crying a bit.” I paused and Brett nodded and motioned with his hand for me to continue.

  “I didn’t say anything to her at all until she asked what kind of dog Charlie was. We exchanged a few words about Charlie. Something seemed off, and so I cut our rest stop short and we left. It may have been a coincidence…” I added.

  “But something didn’t hit you right or you wouldn’t be mentioning it now. Can you identify anything? Had you ever seen her at the park before? Is there any way she would have known you ran in the park? Or you would rest right about there?” he asked.

  “I am a creature of habit and always stop at the same place and turn around. But no, I don’t think there’s any way she would know that I would be at the park at all. And no, I don’t ever remember seeing her at the park. I might not have placed who she was before, but someone in a designer jogging suit would stand out. I think her clothes were what seemed out of place. Most of us in the park either are in sweats, shorts, or jeans and a t-shirt.” I answered him as best I could.

  “Sheridan, is there anyone who knows your routine there? Or when you go?” he asked more directly.

  I shook my head and answered, “Maybe. Maybe if Kim was looking for me, stopped at the house, and noticed that Charlie wasn’t there. Then maybe it would occur to her to head over to the park. She went with us a couple times last spring when the rec center was closed for renovations. But, I don’t go every weekend on the same day, or even every weekend, or at the same time. That’s why I decided it was a coincidence.”

  “And you’re bringing it up now because?” he asked, his brows knitting and set of his chin firm.

  “Because I got this email from the Chancellor’s Admin Assistant to meet with him tomorrow morning and I’m not real big on coincidences?” I offered with a shrug.

  Brett shrugged back, and suggested, “It doesn’t seem likely his wife followed you to the park or even knew you would be there. It is certainly possible that without Millberg’s murder none of this would have come out or only the sexual harassment issues would have surfaced.”

  He paused and looking at my dismayed expression, he added, “For the record, I don’t believe in coincidence either and I think you have good sense. If your gut says something is funky, it probably is. Maybe it will come together after the meeting with him, maybe not. Do me a favor, though, Sheridan? No more running unless Kim or someone else is with you? There is still a killer out there.” He ran his fingers through his hair, looking tired all of a sudden.

  I nodded and he stood, pulling me up and into his arms. He held me and kissed me. Then he held me for a few minutes.

  “If you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you out,” he said as he looked down into my eyes.

  I nodded, turned off the computer, and grabbed my bag. We walked out of the office, and about ran into Kim. She seemed all flustered, but smiled, winked and said she’d call me later. As we walked to the parking lot, Brett asked, “So how small a town is this anyway?”

  I laughed, guessing he’d seen Kim’s wink, and answered, “Very small. In fact, Katie apparently also had dinner at the Steak House last night. I didn’t see her, did you?”

  He laughed, and commented, “I didn’t see anyone but you.” He paused while he gave my shoulder a squeeze, and added, “I gather she saw us, though?” I nodded and smiled. I decided not to share the rest of her concerns.

  At my car, he said he would call me the next night to see how my meeting went, and he figured he would be back on Thursday. He suggested maybe we could catch dinner then, and I nodded. He kissed me and then prompted me to lock my doors.

  I stopped at the grocery store on my home and got a pre-cooked chicken and salad makings for dinner. I realized I was much more vigilant of my surroundings and told myself to relax. I was halfway home before it dawned on me that Brett’s suggestion I go running with Kim suggested she was no longer a suspect. At least she wasn’t in his book. Yippee!

  Once home, I took care of Charlie, ate my dinner, and turned on the television. Later on, on a whim, I went into my office. I hadn’t ever put away the papers or articles from teaching summer school, and it was a mess. That wasn’t my focus though.

  I turned on the computer and googled Kenneth Oakland. I didn’t remember when
he had become Chancellor or his background and figured it might be helpful to be in the know before I met with him. I pulled up the articles on when he was vetted for the position and was hired. He had been the CEO for Primrose Manufacturing, a company that produced garden and landscaping products. He was probably about my age, had a Master’s degree in Business Administration, and had been hired as Chancellor shortly before I came to Cold Creek.

  The major reason for his support was his business acumen and his prior experience as President of a small agricultural college in Indiana. The newspaper articles talked about how he was able to increase the financial backing of the college and improve their rankings as an agricultural college. He had cited the reason for his move as needing a new challenge, one that Cold Creek could provide. It sounded like political double speak. I stared at the screen thinking it made sense for someone who specialized in gardening and landscaping to head up an Ag college. I wasn’t sure that our horticulture program, though well known, was in the same league. I wondered if its current rising status was a reflection of his influence.

  I googled some more and from what I could tell, he had apparently continued on with Primrose while being the President of the other college. So, in effect, he had semi-retired when he came here. He might still be connected to Primrose, but certainly wasn’t still functioning as CEO from Virginia. I tried to find some more information, but nothing new came up.

  Charlie had been lying at my feet, but she suddenly started to growl. Now, Charlie is not the greatest watch dog, so this was not usual. I got up and walked toward the living room, and she started barking. My living room is next to the kitchen, so I walked into the kitchen.

  The lights were out, and I looked out the kitchen window to see if I could see anyone. Charlie was still barking at the front door, but I couldn’t see anything, and, of course, hadn’t turned the outside light on. I checked the back door. It was locked and deadbolted.

  I decided there was nothing else to do, but to go turn on the outside light. Charlie was lying in front of the door growling. That creeped me out. Avoiding any of the windows in the living room, I got to the switch and flipped it. I also checked to make sure the front door was locked and deadbolted. Then I sat on the floor and held Charlie. After a few minutes, she stopped barking and growling and lay down next to me. I sat there until the phone rang.