“That’s a good question, Jeff. Whenever there is a crime against another individual, I think it is standard practice to talk to all the people the victim socialized with or worked with. So, initially at least, probably everyone who knew Dr. Millberg, including all of us, probably were potential suspects,” I explained, purposefully emphasizing the ‘potential’. I continued, “At this point, I would imagine the police have eliminated most if not all of us from the initial list. Obviously, they haven’t arrested anyone as yet.”
Another hand shot up, this time from a freshman whose name I didn’t remember. She commented, “I know television shows aren’t real, but they always indicate the longer before an arrest the less likely it is they will catch the guy. How accurate is that?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer. Television and movies have to tie everything up quickly. I am not sure that is always the case in real life. Even lab results, which are very quick on all the crime related shows, would take much longer,” I answered.
“Anyone else?” I asked. No one else raised their hands, so I put in a plug about the availability of faculty for counseling if anyone was distressed. I also added the suggestions to try to travel in pairs or groups. I thought about bringing up sexual harassment, but I changed my mind. I wasn’t ready to go there, and I wasn’t sure it was a problem. I decided to put in a plug about psychology’s involvement in the criminal justice system and forensic psychology instead. No one had any questions, though some nodded and looked interested. I dismissed class and was walking back to my office when I collided with Joe on the stairs. My sheaf of papers fell to the floor.
“Hi, Sheridan. I hoped to run into you, but not quite literally,” he joked. He had a look of anticipation and determination on his face.
“Sorry, Joe. How’s it going? Anything new on the murder?” I asked as he helped me collect all my papers.
“Nope. Nothing. Nada. It is very frustrating. This is the most exciting thing that has ever happened in Cold Creek. I could possibly get a great story out of it, but it seems to have stalled,” he answered, obviously dismayed.
“Afraid I can’t help much,” I said, fully intending to escape without further comment.
“Come on, Sheridan. Can’t you tell me anything? How are the students reacting? I covered the memorial a week ago, and some of them seemed pretty upset,” he prompted.
I smiled, and said, “Of course students are upset. Faculty members are upset, too. So are administrators. A violent death of someone you know is upsetting. Mitch and I have been available to students. Last week some students came by, but that seems to be tapering off. With the structure of classes, a sense of normalcy is probably helping to alleviate some of the distress.” It dawned on me Jim still hadn’t told us the advising assignments for Adam’s students and I hadn’t run into Rachel in a few days.
I must have looked perplexed because Joe asked, “What? Tell me!”
I responded with a laugh, “Sorry, Joe, I only right this minute remembered Adam’s advisees hadn’t been reassigned yet. Nothing to get excited about, honest.” Still chuckling, I walked up the stairs and back to my office. I put everything down on the nearest chair. Then I went to the main office to find Ali and attack Adam’s office. I saw Max talking to Priscilla in the distance and hoped he didn’t come to help. They seemed very involved in discussion and I figured that was a good thing.
I helped Ali carry some of the boxes paper comes in and she unlocked the door. She had a clipboard and a listing of specific items to remain in the office. When we walked into the office, we looked at each other and gasped. The office was a disaster area. It looked like someone had taken books off the bookcases randomly and thrown them on the floor. There was trash on the floor, as well as part of what had likely been on or in the desk. It was a mess. A whirlwind or tornado would have created less of a mess than what we found. I wondered if the police had made this mess or someone else. Some of the papers looked to be torn and I couldn’t quite see the police destroying papers.
Ali spoke first, her eyes wide. “I’ll go get the trash bin from the custodial closet. It looks like we’ll need it.”
I stood there and stared, and then pulled out my phone and called Terra’s number. “Terra, can you check with Chief Pfeiffe and make sure they are through in here before we start. It looks like someone trashed Adam’s office. I don’t want to touch anything until we’re sure the police are through here,” I explained.
She said she would. I hung up and then I used the camera on my phone to take pictures. First of a global view, then the floor at the doorway, the desk from the doorway, the bookcases and piles of books on the floor, the torn papers, and the overturned chair.
Ali came back with the bin. I let her know we weren’t touching anything until the Chief said it was okay. We discussed the possibility that this may be the mess they made searching, but it looked pretty random and almost personal. As we waited to hear from Terra, I scanned the room. Obviously Ali was doing the same thing.
“Eeeeuuuu…” came out of her mouth. She pointed to the floor a few feet from us to a box of condoms. I grimaced and realized that condoms in Adam’s office definitely didn’t need to be public knowledge. I sure hoped that Joe was long gone. Too bad Mitch hadn’t come to help.
Terra came down the hall and looked into the office. Her eyes registered shock. She related, “Officer Hirsch will be here in a minute. The Chief didn’t seem to think there was any problem cleaning this out since they know the body wasn’t moved. It isn’t a crime scene, he said. But he wanted Officer Hirsch to be here to oversee in case you found something.” She turned around and left.
“Dr. Hendley, I think I’m going to go get us some gloves out of the closet. Be right back,” Ali commented, looking pretty disgusted. I couldn’t blame her. I decided to take a few more pictures, being sure to get the box of condoms while we waited. At least they weren’t used.
In short order, Officer Hirsch arrived and Ali came back with gloves. The way he looked at Ali had ‘puppy love’ written all over his face. I had trouble suppressing a giggle. He was not bad looking at all, but didn’t look old enough to shave. That might have to do with his being blonde, but he truly had a baby face. It again occurred to me he would look older if he had a moustache, that is, assuming he could grow one. Ali rolled her eyes at me, but Officer Hirsch didn’t seem to notice.
I suggested we start where we were and work our way in. Most of what was on the floor was going straight into the trash bin, and until we cleared it, the trash bin wouldn’t fit in the office. Besides, I wanted to get the box of condoms off the radar in case anyone else stopped by to watch. I hoped Terra didn’t encourage Joe to stop by to see the mess.
Gloves on, I picked up papers. As I determined they weren’t important or student work, I tossed them. As I got closer to the box of condoms, I signaled Hirsch and he reluctantly left Ali’s side. I gave him a questioning look, pointed to the box. He blushed and told me to hold up and not touch it. He asked us if there were any small trash bags and Ali nodded. She went to get him one. She also got him gloves. He was disgusted and embarrassed as he picked up the box. He opened it and found it about half empty. He shook his head and put it in the bag. Better him than me.
We went back to work and in short order had most of the floor near the door cleaned up. We found a few photos and they went into the bag Officer Hirsch was holding. I recognized one as Katie, and one looked familiar, but was obviously of a much younger girl.
She looked to be about 18 or 20, but wasn’t a student I remembered. I also noticed the style of dress wasn’t current. Although fashion was a bit retro these days, plaid and denim hadn’t made a comeback recently. Maybe it was a picture of a sister, if he had one, when she was younger, like 20 years ago.
Most of the papers were pages from journal articles that had been scattered and went into the trash bin. There were also remnants of lunches, almost as disgusting as the box of condoms. Finding the leftover food reminded me I
needed to grab lunch before my next class.
Ali and I agreed to meet back there after my next class to see if we could make more progress. Needless to say, Officer Hirsch said he would be there as well. We left the trash bin inside with our gloves on the desk and Ali locked up. Hirsch left with his goody bag and said he was taking the stuff to the station. From there, the Chief would decide if anything else needed to be done with the contents.
I went back to my office, but made a point to swing past Mitch’s door on my way. There was a note on his door saying he was out sick, and I made a mental note to call and check on him later. He was not one to call in sick.
I checked my office, but no notes or messages. I went to Georg’s to get a sandwich though I was getting pretty tired of Georg’s fare already. I made a mental note to bring my lunch in the future, at least a couple of days a week. Back in my office I ate while I checked my email. Nothing of interest, I set about making sure I had everything ready for research design, and finished eating.
By the time I had to go teach, I still hadn’t seen Brett and wasn’t sure if he was back in Cold Creek yet. In class, most of the students in this section had completed the assignment, and I managed to get a few to share their research ideas. At this point, these were ideas or interests, and some were a little less realistic than others. Ultimately, it didn’t matter as the ideas would be honed and shaped, sometimes completely altered, by the end of the semester. For many students, coming up with an idea and writing it down was the hardest part.
Class over, I gathered my papers and realized I would be spending part of my long weekend reading and grading their assignments. Although tedious and sometimes boring, the grading would provide some normal structure to the weekend after the stress of the last week or so.
I went back to my office. Brett was waiting for me, cup of coffee in hand. He looked serious, but his expression softened in response to my smile. After exchanging pleasantries, I told him about Adam’s office. He looked fit to be tied that the Chief hadn’t interceded. I handed him my phone with the pictures I had taken. From his expression, I knew when he hit the package of condoms. He was going back through the pictures when Ali came to the door.
“We still doing this, Dr. Hendley? Officer Hirsch is waiting at Dr. Millberg’s office,” she said. She looked about as enthusiastic about this chore as I did.
I looked to Brett for direction, and he shrugged and said, “Let’s go. And let’s keep a photo journal on your phone, Sheridan, if you don’t mind.”
I nodded, and off we went. This time, we focused on getting some of the books off the floor. I tried to decide which ones could get tossed and which might be useful to someone. They were boxed accordingly, but, at Brett’s suggestion, only after we shook each one in case any thing was left inside them. The shaking yielded a few more photos and a rather passionate note from someone named Cara. Brett took pictures of each with my phone before giving them to Hirsch. I mentioned there had been a couple photos earlier that Hirsch had taken to the station. Brett made a note.
We worked for about an hour, and most of the books were off the floor. The trash and papers under the books had been taken care of as well. We weren’t done but we had made a dent. We still needed to finish going through the books still on the shelves and the desk. Luckily no more condoms were found in the afternoon. With the boxes and trash bin inside, we called it quits and Ali locked up. She went back to her office and Hirsch followed behind her. It looked like he had it bad.
Brett looked at me with raised eyebrows as they left. I told him about Hirsch’s crush and he smiled. I noted he didn’t look old enough to shave, vote or drink and asked Brett if he had any idea how old Hirsch was. Brett laughed and assured me Hirsch was old enough for all three. He didn’t answer my question though. Instead he asked, “So how old are you, Sheridan?”
“Old enough to know better, but still young enough not to care?” I answered with a smile. He chuckled and repeated the question. He obviously wanted a specific number.
“Turned 45 last April. And yourself?” I countered. I guessed him to be about the same age, but with a 12-year-old daughter, he could be younger.
“I’ll be hitting the big 5-0 come next July,” he answered. Once back to my office, he said, “Looks like I am going to have to hunt down Chief Pfeiffe again to get a look at the pictures Hirsch collected. It may be best if I come by your place when I’m done and then we can go get something to eat.”
It wasn’t a question really, but I answered, “Sounds good.”
“In the meantime, can you send all those photos to my email, please,” he asked, eyebrows raised. I nodded and he was gone.
I thought of Mitch, and concerned, called his house. His wife, Dora, answered and explained he had what seemed to be a 24-hour bug of sorts. He came on the phone, and sounded tired. He began by apologizing. I related my interaction with the Chancellor and he confirmed Oakland was definitely a bit on the sexist side and known to use his position and power to get his way. I couldn’t tell if that included sexual harassment or typical politics. I told Mitch he missed helping with cleaning out Adam’s office. He chuckled, and commented that maybe he wasn’t feeling up to working tomorrow either.
It was a short call, and I moved on to archive the photos from Adam’s office. I took care of the photo transfer and walked to the parking lot. As I approached my car, I felt the hair on the back of my neck rising, and realized, a little too late, someone was behind me. He or she grabbed my arms, pulled them behind me, and caused me to drop everything. When the person spoke, I could tell it was a female. I didn’t recognize the voice.
“What were you doing in Adam’s office? What did you find?” she demanded. She virtually hissed the words. I couldn’t tell but it seemed like she was very angry about something, possibly his death.
“I was told to clean out his office. Papers and books, what you’d expect in an office. What should I have found?” I tried to sound calm, wondering at her behavior. I didn’t try to resist so I couldn’t tell how strong she was. Since she surprised me, she probably didn’t have to be that strong, but at that minute I wasn’t feeling threatened. I didn’t want to be the one to elevate this situation to a more physical interchange.
“Did you find any pictures or letters or personal papers?” she hissed. I decided then she was obviously worried we had uncovered something.
I didn’t want to lie and I didn’t want to answer her. I must have hesitated because she jerked her grip on my arms. That was enough to tell me she was strong and I would have very sore shoulders.
I answered, “We found some photos, probably of family or friends. The police have them now.” I added so she would know I didn’t have them and they weren’t in the office any more. I tried to figure out how old she was from her voice and she didn’t sound young enough to be a student.
“Did you recognize any of the people in the pictures?” she asked. Her tone switched from anger to anxiety and concern. I still couldn’t recognize the voice but I got the feeling she was worried there was something incriminating in Adam’s office.
“No, I didn’t,” I answered with conviction. She must have believed me. The next thing I knew she shoved my back and pushed the back of my knees at the same time and I was on the ground. I turned and saw someone with a hooded jacket running toward the dormitory area. I hadn’t had a chance to move, when Kim came running from the other direction.
“Sheridan, are you alright? Who was that? One minute you were standing with someone behind you and then you were gone and they were running away. Did you get mugged? Oh, my god. First, Adam is killed, and now you’ve been mugged! Are you alright?” she was screaming.
I sighed and tried to right myself, I said, “Kim, chill. I’m okay. A little dirty, and I’ll probably be a little sore in spots later. I think my knees are skinned. But I’m okay.”
I was trying to be calm, but I was shaking and Kim noticed it. “Sheridan, you have to call the Chief or Brett. Right now! You’re sha
king and there’s blood seeping through your pants at the knees, so don’t tell me it’s no big deal.” She had calmed down a bit and took stock of the situation.
“Okay, okay.” I pulled out my phone and called the number I had for Brett from when he had called me.
He answered, “I’m in a meeting, can this wait?”
I answered, “I’m not sure. I was accosted in the parking lot. I think you better identify the women in those photos.”
“What? What do you mean ‘accosted’?” he asked, his voice a bit louder this time.
“Some woman. In the parking lot. Wanted to know why I was in Adam’s office. Wanted to know if I found any pictures. Then if I recognized any of the people in the pictures. Then she took off,” I explained as concisely as I could. “No big deal…” I started to say, but Kim grabbed the phone.
“This is Kim, and yes, big deal. She assaulted Sheridan, whoever she is,” she said. She sounded very calm and there was a pause before she continued
“No, I didn’t get a good look. I saw Sheridan standing at her car with someone very close to her. Sheridan looked awkward one minute, then she disappeared. This other woman ran away and I found Sheridan on the ground. The woman had on a hooded jacket and it happened so fast. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman, but Sheridan said it was a woman.” Kim explained.
Brett must have asked her about me, because then Kim said, “She was on the ground. Her knees must be cut or scraped. There’s some blood on her pants, but not much. The bimbo knocked her to the ground. Sheridan said she was going to be sore, but I don’t know anything else.”
Then another pause, and Kim said, “Okay, I’ll follow her home and stay with her until you get there. Here’s Sheridan.” Kim handed me back my phone.
“I’m really okay. A little shook, but okay, honest,” I told him. I looked at my pants and there was some blood but not a lot. My knees burned, but what pissed me off was that I liked these pants and now they were ruined.
Murder at Cold Creek College Page 17