“I suffer from migraines,” he said, “and this stuff seems to help.”
I gave him my clerk smile in response. In the back of my mind, his explanation sounded like a lie. But, why would he lie? Even if he was, what business was it of mine anyway?
“You’re in my video editing class,” said Professor Vincent.
I thought it odd that he’d ask such a question. He knew I was in his class. I sat right in front of him. “Yes,” I replied.
“I thought so,” he said, “I liked that last assignment you handed in. You have an artistic eye for things. I think you ought to consider signing up for my advanced filmmaking class next semester.”
His statement sounded reasonable, but I started to feel uncomfortable around him. Especially since his eyes darted down my blouse.
“I’ll think about it,” I replied.
“Do that.” Professor Vincent left. He gave me a lustful look, but did a good job at concealing it.
“Creepy bastard,” said Jackie. She had observed the entire proceeding. “I’d drop his class.”
“Except, I need the credits,” I said.
“I guess the world is full of creeps like him,” she said.
“I’ll make certain to sit in the back of the class from now on,” I told her.
“Do that.”
Luckily, the rest of the day at work passed without incident. Things had quieted down considerably. Seven pm rolled around and Jackie and I had the honor of locking up. One of the things I liked about the Candle Shoppe was that is closed early.
Greg arrived right on time with flowers. Jackie beamed and nudged me when she saw him. “Flowers! How nice,” she said. “Have fun.” She greeted Greg and ran off.
Greg handed me the flowers and I accepted them graciously. He took me to an Italian restaurant for dinner. As I ate the delicious food, I knew it headed straight to my thighs. All that creamy, buttery pasta was too good to resist. We chit chatted at dinner, but I was so hungry, that I stuffed my face more than talk. Greg chuckled. At least my tendency to eat didn’t scare him away.
The play started at nine and we had seats in the front. It gave us a perfect view of the stage. The moment the curtain went up, the actors and story enthralled me. Like I said, I love Shakespeare. Hamlet had always been one of my favorites. I don’t know why. But who wouldn’t like a story about a guy who seeks revenge for his father’s death, and pretends to go crazy while he’s at it? Though you could argue that Hamlet really was nuts. I understood how he felt. Ever since I met Rachel, I felt a little nutty myself. Hopefully, no one tried to put me in a padded cell.
The play ended at midnight and a giant yawn gave away my tiredness. It had been a long day and I looked forward to actually getting a good night’s sleep. “Thanks for a wonderful night,” I said to Greg.
He opened the door to his car for me. What a gentleman. I’ll admit, that meant bonus points in my book. He drove me home. We didn’t say much during the car ride. My eyelids kept drooping and he must have noticed. Afterward, he walked around the car to open my door for me. More bonus points. Some girls didn’t like it when guys opened doors for them, but I didn’t mind it once in a while.
“You make sure to go to bed,” he said, dropping me off at my door.
“Don’t worry,” I said.
Then, he did it. Kissed me goodnight. It was one of those foot popping kisses that gave me butterflies. The kiss ended too quickly for me. I had to hide my girlish giggles as butterflies swirled in my stomach.
“Night,” I said as I closed the door.
I dumped my things on a nearby chair.
“How was your date?” asked Jackie. She sat cross legged on the couch with a book in her hands. The eagerness in her voice tipped me off that she had been spying. That, and the fact that the book in her hands was upside down.
“You were watching through the peephole, weren’t you?” I said.
“No… Me?” I didn’t buy the forced innocence of her voice.
“I’ve never known anyone who could read upside down,” I said.
Jackie slammed the book shut and hopped off the couch. “OK, so maybe I was being a little nosy.”
“You’re worse than my mother.”
“Am not. So you kissed. Good news. You like him?”
“Of course I like him,” I said. “He’s a bit of a gentleman. He doesn’t like to party, or smoke. And that cake he gave us was delicious.”
“So he can cook. If he does his own laundry, and starches his clothes, I’d say he’s a keeper.”
“I’m sure he’s house trained,” I said. “Now, I have an early class tomorrow, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.”
Chapter 6
I strolled toward the building where my first class of the day was. October hit and with it came chilly weather. I knew I’d have to start searching for my winter coat soon, but kept putting it off. Despite being a warm weather type of gal, I relished in the cold breeze. Somehow, it made you feel alive.
I pulled the heavy door to the building open and enjoyed the warm air that engulfed me. For once, I felt good about going to class. No Rachel today, and I actually got some sleep.
I started to walk through the doorway to my video editing class when a hand seized my arm and yanked me away. I found myself being shoved and pushed down the hall toward the water fountains. It was Sara. She shoved me against the wall and motioned for me to be quiet.
“What the—”
“SHH!” Sara looked around making certain no one was watching. She relaxed and let me go. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just I don’t want anyone to know that I talked to you.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. I really didn’t want to be late for my class.
“When you asked me about Rachel the other night, I was afraid that I was being set up.”
“Set up?”
“Look, when the cops focused on Tom as Rachel’s killer, I knew they were going in the wrong direction,” said Sara. “Tom wasn’t the type. There was this one cop who was intent on nailing him. He didn’t want to hear about anything else. His name was Detective Reiss. The thing is, the guy made me nervous. There was just something about him. You know how it is when you get a bad vibe about someone? That’s what I got from that Reiss character.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked.
“I thought maybe you were sent by Reiss to spy on me. He did that for a while after the investigation closed. I freaked. But when you called me a ‘fat chick’, I knew you couldn’t be from him. Where did you hear that term?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.
“Try me,” Sara pushed.
I exhaled deeply. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“Ghosts?”
“I told you, you wouldn’t believe me,” I said.
“You see ghosts?”
“Only one,” I said. I knew she’d think I was definitely crazy for telling her this, but she asked. She made it evident that she wasn’t going to let it go. “I’ve seen Rachel.”
Sara’s lips pursed. “I don’t know if you’re crazy, or lying, but I do know that there isn’t any way you could have known that phrase.”
“Rachel told it to me,” I said.
“Fat chick. We used to say that to each other when we went out. It was our code for drop dead gorgeous. Seems stupid I know.”
“Not at all,” I said. “Sara, do you have any idea why Rachel was so scared that night? Or why she went to the computer lab so late?”
“I’ve no idea what could have scared her,” replied Sara. “All I know is she called me saying something about taping something on her camera. Something horrible. She wouldn’t give any details. She wanted me and Tom to meet her at the computer lab, which was open 24/7.”
“She obviously needed a computer for something,” I said more to myself than to Sara. “Why would she need a computer here on campus? Didn’t she have her own?”
“Her computer was at a rep
air shop. It stopped working one day and she wasn’t going to get it back for another week. Tom didn’t own one and I didn’t have internet at my place.”
“But if she filmed some kind of crime, why wouldn’t she go to the cops?”
“Maybe she felt she couldn’t trust them. I know I didn’t trust that Detective Reiss,” said Sara. “Why do you want to know?”
“I made a promise to a friend,” I said, “and I find it odd that it was closed so quickly and no one’s given it much thought since. This happened on campus. That means the murderer could still be here.” I immediately regretted saying that last bit. Sara’s face filled with shock. She covered it up well.
“You’re probably right,” she said, “Listen, I came to the computer lab soon after getting her call. When I got here, it was empty, except for one person.”
“Who?”
Sara glanced over and did a double take. Greg stood in the hallway watching us. “Him,” she said, pointing to him. “Just find who did this. And be careful of Professor Vincent.”
Sara left, leaving Greg and I alone in the empty hallway. “Greg,” I said. He walked off. “Greg!” I yelled.
“What?” he said.
“You didn’t tell me everything,” I accused. “You told me that you last saw Rachel at her apartment, but the truth is you went to the computer lab. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“What does it matter?”
“Why, Greg? If you can’t be honest with me about that, how can I believe if anything you tell me is the truth?”
“Honesty,” said Greg, “You want honesty? Why don’t you tell me why you really want to know?”
“I don’t like injustice,” I said. It sounded stupid, even to my ears.
“There’s more to it than that.” Greg sauntered away.
“Why were you at the computer lab?” I demanded. “And why didn’t you tell me?”
“I followed her, okay? Rachel was so frightened that night, that I was afraid for her. Afraid of what she might do. So I followed her. By the time I reached the computer lab, she had left. I noticed her leaving through the exit with someone, but before I could catch up with her, Sara arrived. When I did make it outside, she, and whoever she was with, had gone.
“I told the cops that. They just assumed the guy was Tom. Why do you keep pushing?”
“Because I’ve talked to Rachel. She asked my help in finding her killer and I agreed.”
“Mel, just don’t get involved. They didn’t care then and they don’t care now. You’re just going to stir up a bunch of trouble and open old wounds.”
“And maybe solve a murder while I’m at it.” I left Greg standing there and went to my class. I knew I was late, but didn’t care. I just walked in and took the closest available seat, ignoring the stares I got from those around me.
I barely paid attention in class. The teacher droned on and on about film technique and use of colors. My mind, however, lay elsewhere. All I thought about was what Sara told me, and later, Greg. I understood why he didn’t tell me that last bit about following Rachel. It just hurt that he skewed the truth a bit. Didn’t he trust me? Did I trust him?
The movement of people told me that class had ended. I grabbed my book bag and stood up to leave.
“Miss Summers,” said Professor Vincent.
I approached the desk.
“I noticed you were late,” he said, “I do not appreciate tardiness.”
“Sorry, professor,” I said, “It won’t happen again.”
“I’m sure it won’t.” Professor Vincent placed his smooth hand on my shoulder. I thought his eyes flickered toward my bosom. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. “Be on time next time.” His grin possessed a lustfulness.
“I have to go,” I said and left.
The rest of my classes went quickly. I headed straight home. I didn’t even remember the drive back to the apartment. I burst through the door actually hoping to see Rachel. She wasn’t there.
“Rachel!” I yelled. “Rachel!”
“What,” said Rachel from behind me.
“Can’t you remember anything that happened to you that night? I feel like I’m going in circles.”
“I’m sorry,” said Rachel. “It’s all fuzzy.”
“Or, you don’t want to remember.” I regretted that statement the moment it exited my mouth.
“Don’t want to? Do you think I like being here not knowing why or how I died?” Rachel glared at me. “Do you think this is fun for me?
“I was always told that when a person died they met God, or at least saw their loved ones again, but instead of any of that, I found myself back here. At first I didn’t know I was dead, but I figured it out quickly when everyone I tried to talk to couldn’t see, or hear, me. Those that did, ran away screaming.
“All I asked from you is a little help. And all you have done is complain.”
“I am trying to help you, but everyone I talk to thinks I’m either crazy or nosy. And now my boyfriend has basically left me because I had to tell him why I am so interested in finding out what happened to you; and why I was upset that he didn’t mention following you to the college.”
“He what?” said Rachel.
“He followed you and saw you leaving with someone, but he doesn’t know who. But it doesn’t matter. He’ll probably never speak to me again.”
“Is that so?” Rachel vanished.
“Mel?” Jackie appeared in the doorway. She had a concerned look on her face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said.
“Nothing?” Jackie’s stance told me she didn’t believe me. “Nothing. Ever since we moved here, you have acted strangely. Constantly late for things. Going out and staying out until all hours in the morning. Getting in a bar fight. And talking to yourself. Something is going on and I want to know what it is.”
I stood awkwardly. I didn’t want Jackie to think I had lost my mind, yet, I wanted her to know the truth. “You want the truth?”
“Mel, you can tell me anything.”
“When we moved here, I met a ghost. But not any ghost. It’s the spirit of the girl who lived here before us.”
Jackie stared at me in disbelief. She didn’t believe me. “A ghost. Mel, if you don’t—”
A loud crash echoed across the hall. Jackie and I both ran to the hallway. More thumps and bangs sounded. We eyed each other, wondering what was happening. Greg’s door opened. Out came Rachel, dragging Greg into our apartment. She stopped in our entrance. “Does this belong to you?”
I bursted out laughing. Jackie glanced from me to Rachel. Even Greg seemed uneasy. They saw Rachel too. Relief swept over me as now they had to believe me.
“I guess you were telling the truth about seeing a ghost,” said Greg. Rachel dumped him on the floor.
“Rachel, why—”
“I can’t have them putting you in a padded cell when I still need your help,” Rachel said interrupting me.
“You mean,” said Jackie, “that you weren’t kidding?”
“No, she wasn’t,” said Rachel. “Now, I don’t want to sit here answering questions. Mel agreed to help me find my murderer.”
“I didn’t… Rachel,” said Greg.
“Relax,” said Rachel. “I know it wasn’t you.”
“Do you know what could have been on that camera, or what you did with it?” I asked.
“No,” said Rachel, exasperated.
“It’s too bad we can’t get a look at the police report,” said Jackie.
Greg pulled out his cell phone. “I can help with that,” he said. “I have a cousin who works at the local police department. He’s a file clerk, but great at hacking.” Greg dialed a number and put his phone on speaker.
“Hello,” came a male voice on the line.
“Jack,” said Greg, “I need a favor.”
“No,” said Jack. “No more favors. I can’t. I could lose my job.”
“Jack,” Greg said, “you are indebted to me for life.”
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br /> “Will you stop that?” The line went dead a moment. “Am I on speaker?”
“Yes,” replied Greg, “and I still need that favor. Or do I need to tell your mother why you missed church last Sunday?”
“You wouldn’t,” came Jack’s panicked voice.
“That favor?”
“Oh, all right,” said Jack, “What do you need?”
“I need you to look up the file on that college girl who was murdered last year,” said Greg.
A bunch of coughing filled the line. Jack must have choked when he heard Greg’s request. “That case is closed.”
“Jack, I have your mother on speed dial,” threatened Greg.
“Okay. Okay. Give me a moment.” A series of taps echoed through the line as Jack typed on the keyboard. “You realize I can get in a lot of trouble for this. Okay. Got it.”
“What does it say? Is there an autopsy report?”
“She was found around dawn,” said Jack. “She died from a blow to the head by a blunt object. The coroner figured it was made of wood because he pulled splinters from the wound. There were also signs of strangulation. DNA was pulled from under the fingernails, but was ruled inconclusive.”
“Inconclusive?” I asked.
“Something about it being contaminated. The report is a bit mute on that,” said Jack. “But there were rumors around the station that the detective in charge accidentally touched the body without gloves on, so the coroner was forced to rule out any DNA evidence. It’s a rookie mistake, but does happen.”
“What items were with the body when the cops arrived?” asked Greg.
“Uh, there was a purse with a wallet, keys, ChapStick, jewelry…that’s about it.”
“Was there a camera, or a phone, there?” I asked.
“No,” replied Jack. “No phone or camera of any kind.”
“That’s odd,” I said. “You said Rachel mentioned a camera.”
“Anything else?” said Jack.
“No, thanks,” replied Greg. He hung up.
Rachel sat beside us unusually quiet. I could only imagine what she thought about us talking about her as though she wasn’t there. “I’m sorry…” I began.
Janet McNulty - Mellow Summers 01 - Sugar And Spice and Not So Nice Page 4