Murder is Academic (9 page)

“Did you ask Withers why they met out at the lake?”

“Sure,” he said. His tone of voice told me he thought I was accusing him of being stupid.

“And what did he say?”

“That’s two questions.” He paused for a moment then answered. “He said Talbot didn’t want to meet on campus. Talbot wanted to keep up the illusion that Withers was out of favor on campus because it was winning Talbot a few accolades from the faculty for firing him, I mean, for accepting his retirement notice.”

“Oh.”

“You sound disappointed. What’s up?” Der sounded his old cheery self at my depression.

“I thought maybe it was Withers’ idea to meet at the lake.”

“Well, it was, according to Withers.”

“But you just said…” I was beginning to get frustrated.

“I said that Talbot didn’t want the meeting on campus. Withers suggested meeting at the lake. He told me the most preposterous story. You know how he dresses and his style, well…”

“He told you he was going fishing, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Well, it’s a really long story.”

“Cut it short. I have to make a statement to the newspapers.” I could just picture the thin line his lips were taking on for the second time that day.

“I was shopping at the outlet stores, you know the ones north of here, and I ran into Withers’ wife. This was about two or more weeks ago. She’s kind of effusive, and I tend to tune her out most of the time, so it took me a while to remember our conversation that day. She said that Withers was with her, but they had separated to do their own shopping. She mentioned that he was intent on taking up a new hobby now that he was between positions. He decided they lived in just the right location for fishing. She wasn’t surprised, but I was. I couldn’t imagine Withers fishing, but sure enough, he came up to us at that point in the conversation carrying newly purchased fishing equipment including an expensive rod and reel. Annie was with me and commented later that she thought the fishing gig was simply a cover for other activities, if you know what I mean.”

“Go on.”

“So I expect that he’s caught between a rock and a hard place. If he were out there at the lake, he probably had someone with him, and I don’t mean a fish or two. She would be a good alibi except that he can’t use her because then his wife would know what he was doing, not fishing, I mean.”

“You think his wife would prefer to think of him as a murderer than as an adulterer?” Der seemed to think this was absurd.

“Oh, yes, I do. You’ve never met Margo. She’s Italian and acts like Tony Soprano’s sister, you know, the one who shot her husband. She’s scary.”

“I hope you’re not serious. Do you have any idea who the other woman could be?”

“None whatsoever, but I can try to find out from my sources. All ‘amateur detectives’ have sources, you know. I’ll get back to you.” I hung up before he could say another word through those thin lips of his.

I returned to my colleagues still sipping coffees in the snack bar, then trekked across campus center to talk with those gathered under the maples. I hoped someone might know more about Withers than I knew. I got lucky. In less than half an hour, I knew the name of the student with whom Withers was linked and had been, I learned, for the past year. It was the first I heard of it.
Too much serious work, not enough smoozing with my colleagues. I gotta get out more.

Chapter 8

Returning to my hothouse office once more to tackle a paper that was not developing well did not appeal. I decided to give Beth a call to see if she was interested in stopping by the house for dinner on the weekend when I planned to have Annie, Guy and Der, assuming we were still speaking to each other. Beth picked up on the second ring and agreed that Saturday night would fit her schedule well. I told her the menu would be simple and confirmed that she was a red meat eater. She offered to bring wine, and I accepted.

“Listen, I hope this is not awkward for you. I mean, I certainly can extend the invitation to Will if you wish to include him.” I hoped she would refuse this offer. She did.

“We’re not on the best of terms right now. I made an appointment with the counselor, but Will is refusing to come with me. He says the affair is over, that I should forget about it, and that there is absolutely nothing to talk about with a counselor. He had the audacity to tell me I was being childish about a little indiscretion. I’m still going to go anyway. I’ve been picturing myself shoving him into the lake after I’ve had a go at his head with a pickax. That can’t be healthy thinking, can it?”

Not at all healthy, I thought to myself as I drove home. I pictured the president’s death at the hands of someone wielding a shovel. My cell rang just as I turned into my drive. It was Guy.

“How about a ride on the bike and dinner somewhere?” It sounded wonderful after my frustrating day in my hot office.

“Good idea. I have a lot to tell you. Come on by. The door’s open. I’m just going to jump in the shower.”

“I’ll join you. I’m just leaving work.”

I ran up the stairs and turned on the water in the shower so it could warm up. The screen door slammed, and I realized that Guy was only a few short steps behind me. We both threw off our clothes and headed for the shower. This time he was reasonably well behaved, and we still had at least a half-cup of warm water remaining in the shower before we stepped out and began to dry off.

“I’m a little surprised at your good behavior. Too tired, or are my charms beginning to wear thin?”

“Not in the least. I’m just hungry as hell. How about we eat first and play later?”

Guy obviously planned ahead as he carried with him an overnight bag with a clean pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt that fit over his chest muscles very nicely.

“What if I’m not hungry yet?” I teased him as I watched him remove socks from his bag, admiring the way he moved, like a sleek, large cat.
Oh, boy. I’m losing my concentration here.
I feel like a teenager. This relationship is beginning to concern me. It’s all about sex, sex, sex. Is that so bad, bad, bad?

“Suddenly you’re somewhere else. What’s up?”

“I don’t know. I was just thinking. Is this relationship all about sex? Is that so bad?” I looked at him hoping he would reassure me it was much more than that.

“I don’t know. It seems as if we haven’t had time for much else. My work schedule is brutal. Besides, I don’t know what there is to do around here in the summer.” It wasn’t really the answer I counted on, but it was truthful. Guy picked up on my disappointment and took my hand gently in his.

“I don’t know what we have here. But I have a strong sense it could be much more than a romp in the hay. We need to give it some time, get to know one another, take it a little slower, maybe.”

“We only have the summer.” My lip began to quiver. I was torn between hating it when men said “take it slow” and wanting to slow down myself.

“Yeah, I know that, so I guess we’ll have to pack a lot of getting to know one another into a short period of time and then we’ll just have to see what happens by the end of the summer.” Guy’s eyes twinkled. “In less than a week we know a lot about this relationship. The sex is great and…,” he paused as if searching for his next words, “And you like the bike…”

“That’s pretty lame. You don’t like to be too serious for long, do you?” I turned away from him and began to apply make-up in the bathroom mirror.

“To tell you the truth, the serious stuff scares the hell out of me.”

“Would you prefer we not get to know each other better, that this remain only a good hop in the sack?” This conversation was silly. I didn’t want to be serious, not me. I barely knew the guy.

“A couple of days ago I would have said yes to that, but things kind of got out of hand somehow. There’s something I should have told you…” The sound of the screen door slamming and Annie’s voice carrying up the stairs cut off Guy’s words.

“Did you hear, you two, that Orin Withers was called in for questioning?”

Guy eyes locked with mine for a moment, then I turned away and called down to her. “That’s old news.”

“I didn’t hear it,” Guy said. Guy and I descended the stairs together to greet Annie who stood in the kitchen with her hands full of grocery bags. She felt guilty, she said, for coming over only with pastries most mornings, so she brought supplies for a dinner on the grill.

“I thought steaks, and I figured Guy would be here so I brought enough for everyone.” When she paused to catch her breath, she seemed to pick up on the discomfort between Guy and me, and ended with, “But if this isn’t a good idea, I’ll…”

“It’s a great idea.” I was glad to see Annie. Whatever it was Guy was going to tell me would wait and, a tiny voice in my head said I didn’t want to know what it was at that moment.

“So tell me about this Orin Withers affair,” Guy said.

“Boy you hit the nail on the head when you said ‘affair’.” I proceeded to share what I learned about Orin’s extracurricular activities.

“Oh, my gosh. I forgot to tell Der about what I discovered. I should call him, but, better yet, I think I’ll let old Orin wriggle on the hook and call Der later. I owe him one.”

“What do you mean, you owe him one?” asked Annie.

I smiled. Annie looked concerned. Guy stared at the floor.

Since we all expressed hunger, Guy offered to hook up a new tank of propane and begin the rib-eyes. Annie volunteered to make a salad, and I started garlic bread in the oven. While Guy was off playing fire bug with the grill, Annie asked me whether something was wrong between Guy and me.

“Um, no, just a misunderstanding, I think.”

We carried the food out to the deck where Guy was taking the steaks off the grill. Conversation over dinner was minimal, whether due to continued tension between Guy and me or to everyone being famished, I didn’t know. We all finished the meal with groans of satisfaction.

As the sun began to go down over the lake, we sipped our after dinner coffees and finished off the last of the strawberries I’d served for dessert.

“A perfect ending for the day,” Guy said. We watched the last of the orange glow fade from the sky. A few mosquitoes buzzed around our heads, so I lit the citronella torches next to the deck. A bat flew from Frank’s attic vent toward the ponderosa pines near the water. Several more joined the flight pattern.
Oh, oh, I’d better let Frank know he has unwanted tenants.
Guy stood and stretched.

“I think I’ll just be moseying along. It’s been a long, hard day. We’re to begin laying asphalt tomorrow, and that’s one hot and heavy job. I think I need some rest, which I won’t get here in all likelihood.” Guy winked at Annie and kissed the top of my head. Annie chuckled and said goodnight to him. I continued to stare into the coming darkness after I said goodbye and heard his bike start up.

“Well, he seems his usual self,” Annie said.

“Just what is his ‘usual self’? You don’t know. I don’t know. No one really knows. He’s only been around here for less than a week.”

“Oh, boy.” Annie set her coffee mug with studied care on the table, pushed her glasses up on her nose and leaned forward, giving me her full attention. “Trouble in paradise. Come on, tell me. Something is going on.”

“I’m feeling more attached to him than I should be given the fact that I don’t know him. So when I tried to suggest we do more than hop in bed every night, he got kind of funny about it. The conversation got even more serious than I intended. He said there was something he should have told me.”

“Which was what?”

“I don’t know. With your impeccable sense of timing, you came in the door at just that moment.”

Annie hit herself on her forehead with her hand, and her glasses fell off the end of her nose onto the deck floor. “Dummy me.” She fumbled around in the dark, trying to find them.

“Don’t be silly. I was just kidding.” I found the glasses and handed them to her. “He sounded so serious that I was relieved he couldn’t finish what he was saying. I get nervous when a man says to me, ‘I should have told you.’”

I got up from my chair and began to pace the deck.

“I should have told you what? I should have told you that I’m on the FBI’s most wanted list? I should have mentioned that I just robbed a bank? Or worse yet, I should have told you that I’m married with six children?” By this time my pacing had become a summer storm. My feet slammed across the deck in hurried frustration, and I flailed my arms around my head and shouted out across the water, “No, no, I’m glad, glad, I don’t know what he was going to say. I don’t want to know.”

“Gee.” Annie twisted uncomfortably in her deck chair. “For someone who doesn’t want to know what he was going to say, you’re pretty worked up about it. A psychologist friend of mine would say you’re in denial.”

“I deny that. I’m simply and quite appropriately mad for getting involved with someone I don’t know.” I plopped into the lounge with a loud sigh. “I’m nuts, that’s all.”

“Go to bed.” Annie picked up her car keys and headed for the door. “Tomorrow is another day.”

“Thanks for the advice, Miss Scarlet.” After Annie left, I sat there for a few minutes longer listening to the frogs croaking and considered the evening’s events. I let the night breeze waft away my anger, hurt and fear until resolve took their place. I had choices. Yes, I did. I went to bed, setting my alarm for seven. I had a lot of work to do tomorrow.