Murder is Academic

by Lesley A. Diehl

  “Where’s your car parked?” I couldn’t see another vehicle in the driveway.

  “Oh, just on the other side of yours.”

  I was thinking something small and low like a Mazda Miata. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be so bad after all. Ride in a fancy car, wind in my hair, come home and eat chocolate.

  “Oh, my God!” My hand flew up to cover my mouth.

  Parked next to my Toyota was the biggest motorcycle I’d ever seen.

  “Yep, isn’t she the most beautiful machine? A 1989 Honda Gold Wing with 40,000 miles on her.” There was the pride of a parent in his voice and his hands ran lovingly over the front fender. Those hands. Strong looking, long fingers. Sensitive? I shook myself free of my musings.

  “You don’t really expect that I’ll ride on that thing, do you?”

  “I thought you wouldn’t mind the wind blowing through your hair. Anyway, you need to wear this helmet. It’s the law.” He handed me a helmet of the same turquoise color as the bike.

  “Color-coordinated. What other surprises do you have in store for me?”

  “Ride on my bike, and I’ll tell you over dinner.” He moved close enough to me that I could smell his clean, masculine scent.

  *

  The night was full of surprises. I rode on his motorcycle, and I liked it. The wind caressed my face, bringing with its coolness the smells of the evening rising from the countryside.

  “Whee!” I lifted my arms like a child on a carnival ride as we sped down a hill.

  “Hold on tight,” he warned me.

  I could do that too.

  I was pleased he already knew my name and that I was a member of the psychology department at the college in Onondaga Falls. I didn’t ask him how or why he found out about me. It was enough that he took the trouble to do his homework. My mistrust of him lessened as the night air caressed our senses in a way that made me forget he was anyone other than the most desirable man I had met in a good while. Best of all, I liked how the summer moon shone through my bedroom skylight that very night, reflecting the light from his blue eyes. The man had killer eyes.

  *

  The phone by the bed rang. I pulled the pillow over my head. It kept ringing.

  “Maybe you should answer that while I pop into the shower.”

  I rolled over toward the voice. No, it wasn’t a dream. I was in bed with a biker. The two main suspects in the murder of my college’s president had spent the night together, not suspicious enough of one another to keep their clothes on and their hands off one another. I reached for the phone and caught a fleeting view of a naked derriere heading toward the bathroom.

  I looked at the caller ID. Damn. It was Der. “This better be important. It’s only seven am. Hang up and bother someone else.”

  “How was your date with our suspect last night?”

  “A suspect with an alibi. Guy told me over dinner that you checked with his landlady, and she alibied him for the time of the murder.”

  There was hesitation on the line for a moment. “Well, then. I could use a cup of coffee, unless I’m intruding. I’m in your drive.” He pronounced the word “coffee” with his soft, island accent, making it sound more like “café”.

  “You’re here?” I sat up in bed. The sight of my clothes in a trail from the hallway like Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs didn’t help pull me together.

  “Okay, come on in. Door’s open.”

  “Right then. Annie just drove up, and she’s carrying a pastry box. I’ve got some information about your president. Unless you’re not interested.”

  I heard a chuckle from the other end of the line, and then it went dead.

  I flew out of bed and banged on the bathroom door. “I need to get in to brush my teeth.”

  “Come.”

  Guy was in the shower, putting forth a cloud of steam and a pretty good rendition of “Sloop John B.” I wiped a small circle of steam off the mirror to look at my reflection. That was a mistake. My heavy blond hair no longer hung in waves down my back. Instead it was scrunched down on one side and sticking straight up on the other. Some women looked tousled after a night of sex. I wasn’t one of them. I looked messy. I turned sideways as I brushed my teeth examining my stomach in the mirror. Was it getting plumper? At least my boobs still looked great. Well, maybe the left one drooped a little more than the right one.

  Guy’s hand shoved back the shower curtain, grabbed me and tried to pull me into the shower with him.

  “Hey, I’ve got my robe on.”

  “Take it off.”

  I did, and we showered until my fingertips got all pruney.

  Someone knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Use the john downstairs. We’ll be right out.” I punctuated my sentence with a giggle of delight as Guy slid his arms around me.

  It was Annie. “That’s not the problem. Der’s got to get going and he wants to know if you’re interested in the details of the president’s death.”

  “Oh my God, I forgot all about Der.” I turned off the shower, grabbed a towel and headed for the bedroom. Guy followed, toweling off his shoulders. I couldn’t help but turn and stare at his tan chest.

  “You seem to have a full house downstairs. Is it this way every morning around here or only when a murder has been committed?” He dressed, winked at me and headed down the stairs.

  Pulling myself together took a little more time than Guy needed. On my way down the stairs, my body began to overheat. Sweat erupted from my brow. Oh, damn. Not now. When I entered the kitchen I noticed that everyone was drinking coffee, and pastries sat in a box on the table. I bypassed both offerings, opened the freezer door and inserted my head.

  “What’re you doing?” asked Annie.

  “I’m just looking for something.” That was better. I was careful not to lay my sweaty brow on the ice trays for fear they would freeze fast to my face. Then I turned and smiled at everyone and took a seat at the table.

  “What did I miss?”

  Der, his black eyes registering nothing that I could read, were intent upon Guy. Guy seemed unbothered by the scrutiny. He appeared more interested in my performance at the refrigerator, but, since I said nothing, he didn’t ask.

  “Someone left the keys to the road grading machine in the ignition,” Der continued to eye Guy.

  “Where I found them.” Guy’s gaze remained steady. “Most likely the foreman who’s forever moving equipment around and then forgetting to put the keys in the site trailer for lock-up at night. I think he feels frustrated that he no longer is doing the hands-on work and likes to play with the machinery after hours.”

  “Well, your foreman didn’t murder the president. He went directly from work to the Hard as Nails bar, downed three shots in a row, and picked a fight with the bartender. He was in our jail sobering up by five o’clock. If you hadn’t removed the keys from the machine, we might have gotten some usable prints off them.” Der paused and his scrutiny of Guy hardened. Guy met his stare.

  I decided to butt in. “Boys, let’s play nice here. You know Guy didn’t off the president, so what gives?”

  “Man’s got a job to do. I don’t mind at all answering a few more questions.” Guy shoved the kitchen chair onto its back legs and balanced there while he continued to sip his coffee.

  Then it hit me. Der wanted me to find out what I could about Guy, but that didn’t mean jumping into bed with him. He was jealous or protective or some guy thing. Who knew what went on in their testosterone addled brains.

  Both men continued to stare at each other in silence. My thoughts journeyed back to last night and the way Guy’s hair fell forward on his forehead to give him a boyish look when he bent over to kiss me. My attention was not on the case.

  I extracted a chocolate-covered donut from the pastry box and bit into it. There. That was better. My mind slid into drive, and I changed the focus to our recently departed president.

  “President Talbot was not well liked. The faculty found him insensitive to clas
sroom issues since he had little experience teaching. And as for students, well, he’s backed the tuition hike for the college for the last four years, not a popular move with them or their parents.” I took a quick breath.

  “Who had most reason to want this guy dead?” Der asked.

  “Take a look at the members of his cabinet, his vice presidents. He just recently fired the VP for Student Affairs. Some fiscal mismanagement issue, I hear.”

  “Anyone else in the cabinet?”

  I held up a finger as I swallowed another sip of coffee. “Uh, I don’t mean to mislead. I mean, no one liked him much.”

  “I’ve got to get to work.” Guy stood and reached for his motorcycle helmet.

  “How about dinner tonight? Everyone.” I produced my best hostess smile.

  Der looked surprised, but pleased at being included.

  “We can continue our discussion. I’ll fill you in on more campus intrigue that might be helpful.” My smile broadened. A working dinner.

  As Guy turned to go out the door, he hesitated, walked back into the kitchen, grabbed me about the waist, and pressed his mouth to mine. I couldn’t help myself. I giggled like a teenager.

  Through the window, I saw Guy encounter Frank coming up the drive, carrying several canoe paddles.

  “Quick, Annie. Hide the donuts. Frank’s here for our canoe practice.” She shoved them into the fridge just as Frank opened the kitchen door.

  Outside, Guy straddled the bike, rocked it up off the kickstand, punched the starter and rumbled off. I waved like a silly school girl from the kitchen window. Der watched me with something like skepticism in his eyes, while Frank, peering into my face, looked puzzled.

  “Isn’t that the guy from last night?” Frank’s confusion turned to disgust as he reached out and wiped a piece of donut crumb from my face. “If you’re not going to take this thing seriously, we can forget it.”

  “Sorry, Frank, but today’s not a good day. I need to get into town. I’ve got a bit of snooping to do. We can practice this afternoon if you like. Or better yet, Annie will paddle with you now.”

  Before she could protest, Frank grabbed her arm and the two of them headed down the path to the water.

  “I thought you didn’t like male chauvinists.” Der was still seated at the table, coffee mug in front of him. I knew he wasn’t referring to Frank. “For myself, I find him kind of interesting.”

  “What do you mean, ‘interesting?’”

  “Most men treat you like they’re slipping past a sleeping tiger. He acts as if you’re as harmless as a pussycat. I like that in a chap.”

  Der arose from the table, gave me a peck on the cheek and left, promising to return that evening.

  “Chicken,” I said to his retreating back.

  Annie slammed back into the house and headed for the storage room off the kitchen.

  “Flotation vests. And Der’s no chicken.” She grabbed the vests off a hook and ran back toward the door.

  “No, not him. I mean I think I’ll cook chicken for tonight. I can cook it on the barbecue grill. That should be simple enough.”

  “You’d better make a trip to the store. You never have anything edible in your fridge.”

  “No problem. I’ll stop on my way back from campus. I want to hear what the faculty and administration are saying about the murder anyway. I’m sure there’ll be an announcement soon about an interim appointment for president. I’m dying to know who it’ll be.”

  Annie looked at me and rolled her eyes. “One dead body around here is enough.”

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  Chapter 3

  The Upstate College campus sat on a hill overlooking the town of Onondaga Falls. In the summer, while the town sweltered in the valley mugginess, mountain breezes blew across the wooded campus center. After parking my car in the faculty lot, I began the trek to my office. Students and faculty stood or sat in small gatherings beneath the large maple trees in the center of campus. I strode past the groups and caught snatches of conversations about the president’s death. Most of my colleagues seemed to think someone killed the president because of some real or imagined academic malfeasance, making each one of us a prime suspect.

  My office, which I seldom frequented in the summer months, was located on the second floor on the afternoon sun side of one of the classroom buildings. Faculty offices were stifling because each one contained only a small window sealed in preparation for the arrival of air conditioning. We’d been waiting for twenty years. Many faculty members, me included, broke the seals to open their windows only to find that the lack of screens let in a swarm of insects, but little cool air.

  I swatted flies in my tiny space and started to create a list in my head of everyone who disliked President Talbot. Too long. Who liked him? Jeanette Longs, his administrative assistant, came to mind first. Jeanette and I became friends years ago when we attended League of Women Voters meetings together. While I slept late and worked at home in the afternoon yesterday, the state crime lab must have been all over President Talbot’s office, creating chaos in Jeanette’s usually orderly space. How insensitive of me to sit here sweating and chasing insects when I could be taking Jeanette to lunch. It would give her a break from the snooping eyes of the investigators, and provide her a sympathetic audience for sharing events in the president’s office the day of his death. I turned off my computer, took aim at a fly, missed and left.

  I peeked into the president’s suite and saw Der talking with Jeanette about Talbot’s schedule the day of the murder. Two uniformed police examined the contents of Talbot’s file drawers. Jeanette appeared her usual calm and organized self, sharing the president’s appointment book with Der while she kept an eye on the officers thumbing through the files

  “Please try to keep everything in order.” She turned her attention back to Der. “You will see that they don’t lose anything, won’t you?” Her voice quavered. She was either tired or tense. Either way, I arrived just in time to rescue her. When I tried to enter the office, an officer stopped me, but I caught Der’s eye.

  “Let her in. She’s my academic private eye,” Der said.

  “Nice of you.” I nodded to Der and gave Jeanette a hug, then asked her how she was holding up. She gave me a weak smile.

  When I told her I was here to take her to lunch, Jeanette retrieved her handbag out of her desk drawer and the two of us headed toward the door. Der grabbed my arm as I was leaving. “Try not to pump the poor woman dry. She’s been though a lot in the past two days.” That was sensitive of him.

  “And I may need to ask her more questions.” That was more like him. I knew that gentle exterior hid the sharp detective underneath.

  “You know, he wasn’t well liked on campus, but President Talbot was very good to me. With my husband so ill and at home, I needed to take off time, sometimes on short notice, and President Talbot never made a fuss about it.” She took a tiny sip of her drink.

  We sat in the back of The Purple Eggplant away from the customers lining up at the counter to place their orders. Most of the patrons took away their food, so we had the booth area to ourselves. Jeanette played with the sandwich on her plate while I wolfed down a large pastrami on rye with an extra-large helping of coleslaw. I told myself I was in training and needed the fuel for paddling.

  “For example, the day he was, well, you know, the other day, I let him know that I had to leave early to pick up a prescription for Carl. He said, ‘no problem,’ that he had two meetings across campus with some of the people in science and he didn’t need me for anything. I left around three.”

  “So you don’t know if he made it to his meetings with the science people? Who was he supposed to meet with?” I finished the last of my coleslaw and looked across the table at Jeanette’s uneaten food.

  “He set up a meeting with Rudolf Walter Pruitt, Chair of Earth Sciences for three-thirty. Just before I left for home, I stepped into his office to say goodbye. He was standing at the window. He looke
d as if he were deep in thought. I called to him not to forget his appointment with Dr. Pruitt. He seemed distracted, but thanked me and said good bye.” She dropped her fork and looked at me with concern in her eyes. “Oh dear. With all the confusion yesterday and this morning I just plain forgot to tell Detective Pasquis that I left early.”

  “Don’t worry about it. He or one of his team will be able to confirm or deny Talbot’s presence at those meetings. I’ll tell him we talked and you forgot about leaving early.”

  “Oh, thanks. I don’t want to appear uncooperative or as if I’m hiding anything.”

  I touched her hand. “Don’t be absurd. With your husband’s illness and your work schedule, you have a lot on your mind. Do you want that?” I pointed to her dill pickle. She waved it away. “Who was the other person in science he was meeting with?”

  “I don’t know. It was set up at the last minute through his private phone line. I didn’t take the request. He put it on the appointment calendar himself.”

  “Is that usual?”

  “Oh, yes. Some people on campus and off have his private number and call him directly for appointments. He’ll usually tell me the time and the person’s name after the phone call. I must have been out of the office after he took the call, and he merely wrote in “science”. I would have asked him the name if I hadn’t been so preoccupied with Carl’s new medication and leaving early.”

  “So the second meeting wasn’t put on the calendar until that day?”

  “That’s right. Until sometime after he came back from golfing, his calendar included only Dr. Pruitt.” Jeanette’s eyes filled up and she extracted a hanky from her purse, blew into it, then looked at her watch. “Oh, look at the time. I’d better get back.”

  I dropped Jeanette at the college and drove down the hill into Onondaga Falls only supermarket. When I arrived home with the groceries, Annie was already on the back deck drawing in her sketchbook. A stack of cookbooks lay on the table beside her.

  “Thinking of switching departments, are you? Leaving art and moving to the hospitality program?” I nodded my head toward the books.