The Professor's Predicament

by Dianne Harman

  "To be honest, Neal, I was hoping to ask you for some insights into a few of the faculty members here at the university."

  Neal raised his eyebrows, causing lines to appear on his forehead. "Like who?"

  "Do you know Deborah White, the dean of the Department of Sex Therapy?" Kat asked.

  "I've met her a few times at faculty functions, because her husband is in my department, but I can't say I know her all that well personally," Neal responded.

  "Deborah is a friend of mine, and she's concerned about the recent murder of a university student, Courtney Adams. Have you heard about it?"

  "Of course. Yes, I'm well aware of it. In fact, just about everyone on the campus has been talking about the murder nonstop since it happened. The university has beefed up security and has implemented a number of safety drills. Coming on the heels of when another coed was murdered a few months ago, everyone's a little edgy, as you can imagine. The administration is taking extra precautions to make sure that nothing else happens here. There could be lasting negative repercussions if the number of applications is affected and students decide to apply elsewhere to study."

  "That makes sense, I suppose," Kat said. "How well do you know Geoffrey White? Do you know anything about his so-called special assignments?"

  Neal hesitated, clearly conflicted about how he should respond to Kat's question. Finally, he sighed and said, "Yes, Geoff's special assignments are common knowledge. The university has a policy that professors are only to meet with students for academic-related reasons, but the bottom line is that it's not an uncommon occurrence. Geoff had always been discreet about it, though apparently not discreet enough."

  Neal paused for a moment, and Kat could tell he had more to say.

  "What is it, Neal? Why do you say Geoffrey White hasn't been discreet enough?"

  "Another one of our English professors, Dr. Jodie Morris, came to speak to me not long ago. She claimed it was common knowledge that Geoff was having affairs with his students and that it reflected poorly on the English Department. I'd almost forgotten about our conversation until you brought this up. Now I'm remembering how Jodie also said that if I didn't do something about the situation, she would take matters into her own hands."

  "What do you think she meant by that?" Kat asked.

  "I didn't think much of it at the time. I assured her I'd take care of it, but I haven't called to talk to Geoff yet." Neal looked at her sheepishly. "I had planned to do that soon, but maybe I didn't do it soon enough."

  "Why does this Jodie Morris care what Geoffrey White is doing if none of the other professors have complained about it?" Kat asked. "Don't you think it's strange that she would be the only one concerned with his behavior?"

  "I have no idea, and yes, it probably is strange."

  "Is she married?"

  "No, she isn't," replied Neal.

  Kat thought about what Nick had told her the night before. "Do you think there's a chance Dr. Morris is interested in Professor White? I'm going out on a limb here, but perhaps she told you about his affairs because she's jealous?"

  Neal was quiet for a moment as he considered what Kat had said. "I really can't even comment on that, but I do know someone who might have some insights into it. Do you remember Jane Larson?"

  "Yes. I remember Jane. She used to work for Greg when he was dean."

  "Well, she's still here, and believe me, she stays on top of all the nitty gritty politics around the department. If anyone would know what was going on with Jodie and Geoff, she's the one who would."

  Neal reached for his phone and made a quick phone call. Moments later, Jane walked into the room.

  "Kat, it's so good to see you. It's been far too long," Jane said. Kat stood up to greet her and was enveloped in a warm hug.

  "It's good to see you too, Jane," Kat replied.

  "Jane, have a seat," Neal said. "What you're about to hear is quite confidential, and I need you to assure me you won't repeat this conversation to anyone."

  "You have my word," Jane said, leaning forward expectantly.

  "I don't know if you know this," began Neal, "but Kat is now married to the district attorney, Blaine Evans. I'm sure you've heard the news about the young student who was murdered recently. Kat's looking into that incident on behalf of one of her friends, the dean of the Department of Sex Therapy here at the university, Deborah White. Kat heard that the young woman who was killed and Geoffrey White may have been involved in a personal relationship. Do you know anything about that?"

  "Honestly, Neal, it was common knowledge that Geoffrey liked young women, but I have no personal knowledge of it. All I know is what I've heard from the rumor mill," Jane answered. "You know what rumors can be like. First, it's one student, then it's every woman who wears a skirt."

  "Do you know why there might be some animosity between Geoffrey and Dr. Jodie Morris?" Neal asked.

  "Neal, I really don't like to participate in departmental gossip," Jane stammered, her cheeks flushing.

  "I understand, Jane, but what you consider gossip might turn out to be something very important," Neal said.

  Jane looked at Neal and Kat for a moment and then sighed. "About a week ago, I was in the staff restroom down the hall, and I heard someone crying in the stall next to mine. The person was talking to someone. She must have been on her cell phone, and she hadn't heard me come in.

  "She was saying things like, 'He wouldn't admit it outright, but I know he thinks I'm too old for him. He has a thing for younger women, so at my age I must be a crone.' She went on to say that he'd be sorry he'd ever treated her that way. She'd make sure he'd pay for it, and she knew just how she could do it."

  "Could you tell if it was Dr. Morris just from her voice?" Kat asked.

  "I had a suspicion it was her, though I've never heard her so weepy or upset before," Jane replied. "After she ended the call, she left the stall, and walked over to the sink to wash her hands. I could see the person through the crack in my stall door, and it was definitely Dr. Morris. I waited for several minutes after she'd left the restroom before I came out of my stall. I didn't want her to realize anyone had been listening to her phone conversation, to spare her embarrassment."

  Kat and Neal exchanged a glance.

  "I didn't mention this before," Jane continued, "because I didn't know what it meant. But now that the young woman has been murdered, do you think Dr. Morris might have had something to do with it?"

  "There's no telling at this point," Kat said. "We'll just have to follow the trail and see where it leads."

  Jane stood up to leave.

  "Jane, thanks for your help," Neal said. "Kat, I hope this has been helpful."

  "Yes, thank you, Jane. It was great seeing you again," Kat said. After Jane had left the room, she turned back to Neal and said, "I really appreciate your taking time out of your day for me. I'll leave now and let you get back to work."

  "Feel free to call if you need anything else," Neal said. "And I enjoyed meeting Rudy."

  Kat waved goodbye, left his office, and then she and Rudy walked out of the building.

  CHAPTER 16

  With Rudy beside her, Kat walked down the set of stone steps outside the building that housed the English Department. At the base of the steps, she paused for a moment on the sidewalk, wondering where to go next. Nick had given her Dylan's address, which was a relatively short walk across the campus. Kat looked at the address on the piece of paper in her hand, debating whether she should go there. Even if she managed to find Dylan at home, she had no idea what she'd say to him.

  Nick had also given her Dr. Jodie Morris's class schedule and office hours, but after everything Jane Larson had just told Neal and her, Kat felt uneasy going to visit her, even with Rudy by her side. She decided it would be best to give her a call once she was home and see about setting up a meeting in some public place.

  As Kat and Rudy strolled along a campus lane that wound between the various academic buildings, she noticed the Student Center t
hat was situated in the heart of the campus. Though the interior had recently been renovated to provide students with fresh, modern amenities, the exterior of the building remained stately with red brick peeking out from huge swaths of green ivy clinging to the walls. Seeing the flow of students and faculty going in and out of the building, Kat decided a cup of coffee sounded like just what she needed.

  It took her longer than usual to make her way inside because nearly every student who passed her stopped and asked if they could pet Rudy. Kat obliged them all, and Rudy basked in the attention. Kat bought a cafe latte from a barista at a small kiosk inside the Student Center and then walked back outside to a patio area. Although it was crisp and cool outside, the bright sunlight had warmed the black cast-iron patio furniture. Kat sat down in one of the chairs near the edge of the patio, so that Rudy would be less conspicuous.

  Kat had only taken a few sips of her coffee when a group of four young men arrived and sat down at the table adjacent to hers. They piled dark-colored backpacks heavy with books on the table and then they pulled out their cell phones and started playing video games. The students laughed and chatted as they shared stories about different video games Kat had never heard of. She smiled and shook her head at how fast their fingers flew over the keys of their handheld devices.

  Kat sipped her coffee and diverted her gaze to the flow of students passing in and out of the Student Center. Then she heard a name she recognized spoken by one of the young men playing video games at the adjoining table, and her ears tuned into their conversation. She couldn't help but eavesdrop as they continued talking.

  "Hey guys, where's Dylan today? He never misses our weekly gaming gathering."

  "Didn't you hear?" another boy asked. "Dylan and a bunch of us cut classes and went to Kansas City for a couple of days for the music and gaming festival. Dude, it was awesome."

  "Yeah, until we got back and found out Courtney had been murdered," said another one of the young men. "Dylan's been in love with her since high school, and he was totally broken up when he found out someone had murdered her. You know how his dad owns that humongous farm in Western Kansas? His dad's got an airplane and he flew it here to get Dylan and take him home for a few days."

  "Cops know who did it?" the first young man asked.

  "Nah, but when we were in Kansas City, Dylan told us he was pretty sure Courtney had been seeing some old guy, her creative writing professor, who's got a thing for the girls in his classes. Dylan thought the old dude had busted a move on her, if you know what I mean. There were too many afternoons she wasn't at the library like when she'd told him she'd be there. Dylan said he was going to do something about it when he got back from the festival."

  "Sheesh, I guess he won't have to do anything now."

  "Yeah, you got that right. Too bad about Courtney though. It's pretty gruesome what happened to her."

  After the four young men started talking about the recent gaming festival, Kat drank the last of her coffee and walked Rudy back to her car. When she got in it, she called Blaine at work.

  "Hi, honey, how's your day going?" he asked.

  "It's been interesting," said Kat. She recapped her meeting with Neal Grant and Jane Larson and then told Blaine what she'd just overheard about Dylan Roberts.

  "Well, at least that's good news. It sounds like Dylan is no longer a suspect," Blaine said. "And if you feel confident that Deborah didn't kill Courtney, then that leaves Geoffrey and maybe this Dr. Jodie Morris. Why don't you call Nick back and see if he can find out anything else?"

  "That's a good idea. I'll call him as soon as we get off the phone," Kat said.

  "Listen, I'm going to be late tonight because Ryan wants to debrief me from his day in court. I know that's going to take us awhile, so I'll probably get home around seven thirty or so."

  "Do you have any idea how he's doing today?"

  "No, he left a message that he wanted to meet with me to debrief. That was it."

  "I'm sure he's doing fine. I'll plan on a late dinner, so it will be warm and fresh when you get home. Love you."

  "Love you, too," he said.

  As soon as they ended the call, she called Nick to tell him what Jane had told Neal and her about Dr. Morris.

  "Do you think you can find out anything else about this Jodie Morris woman, Nick? She sounds a little unhinged to me."

  "Let me look into it, and I'll get back to you," replied Nick. "You have Rudy with you, right?"

  "Yes, I do. I knew it was important to you and Blaine, so he's been with me all day. I think he's had a great time. He's gotten all kinds of attention since we've been on campus."

  "Good. It makes us feel better that you have some sort of security detail while you investigate this murder, even a lovable furry one," Nick said, before ending the call.

  "Let's go, my loveable furball," Kat said to Rudy, as she put the car in drive. "It's time to go home and see our other furry friend."

  CHAPTER 17

  As soon as Kat got home from the university, she let Rudy and Jazz out to play in the backyard and started prepping the dinner she was planning for Blaine that evening.

  She cut small pockets into two thick, boneless chicken breasts and stuffed them with a spinach and cheese filling and then set them aside to saute until Blaine got home from work. For side dishes, Kat put together a hollandaise sauce to drizzle over asparagus, and then she chopped a variety of vegetables to throw into a tossed salad.

  Looks good. I think Blaine will be happy with this meal. Given that sweet tooth of his, I bet he'll love the dirt cake I made this morning, inspired by my luncheon with Deborah at the country club the other day.

  Once Kat had put her prepped dinner dishes into the refrigerator, she called in the dogs and scooped two cups of kibble into their dishes. While Jazz and Rudy happily munched away in the kitchen, Kat walked into the living room and turned on the television to watch the evening news and wait for Blaine.

  She was surprised to see that every news story seemed to be about the murder of Courtney Adams and the hunt for her killer. Kat hadn't watched any television or even read The Lindsay Daily News in several days, so she hadn't realized what a big story the press was making out of the murder. Reporters roamed the university campus interviewing willing students and faculty members about whether they'd known Courtney and their thoughts about having such a brutal crime happen so close to their campus.

  Kat immediately recognized one of the reporters as the newswoman who had made thinly veiled innuendos about Blaine and Ryan being possible suspects after Judge Dickerson was killed. Now, on the evening news report she was watching, the same woman was grilling her interview subjects on whether they had heard some of the unconfirmed rumors swirling around that Courtney Adams had been having an affair with one of her professors.

  Kat gasped, horrified by the woman's audacity. Not only was she dragging a murdered young woman's name through the mud, but she was broadcasting Courtney's illicit affair on live television, saying that she had heard the rumor from sources who chose not to have their names revealed.

  I know there's such a thing as the First Amendment, Kat thought, but this newswoman pushes it to the limit. What she's doing is just plain wrong. Some cultures respect the dead, but evidently that's not something she considers to be important. This is definitely not what I would call good journalism. The only saving grace is that she hasn't identified the professor. At least she didn't mention Geoffrey White by name.

  Kat hurt for her friend, Deborah, and could only imagine how much it must horrify her to hear snippets about her private life being aired so publicly. She wondered if she should call and check to see how she was doing. Just that moment, however, the phone rang. Kat put the television on mute and answered the call.

  "Hey, Kat, it's Nick. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

  "No, I was just catching up on some news. I can't believe how the media has made Courtney's murder their poster child story of the day," Kat said.

  "Couldn't agr
ee more. And on that subject, I've been doing some digging regarding our conversation earlier this afternoon, and I found out quite a bit about Dr. Jodie Morris. Turns out she's a wine connoisseur. She's a member of an exclusive wine club and often attends or hosts events centered on expensive wines from around the world."

  "That's interesting. Do you think she might have owned a wine saber?" asked Kat.

  "It's certainly possible. I also found out she's been seeing a psychiatrist about her rage and grief over a fellow professor who told her he didn't want to continue their relationship," Nick added.

  "How can you possibly find out something like that?" Kat asked. "You and I both know that whatever a patient tells her psychiatrist is privileged communication and is protected by law."

  "What can I say? I have my ways, Kat. Let's leave it at that."

  "Fine. Anyway, let me guess. I'm surmising that fellow professor is probably Geoffrey White."

  "That's right. Seems their mutual love of fine wines is what brought her and Professor White together initially. She invited him to her house to try a rare and precious vintage Burgundy wine, and one thing led to another. But much to her chagrin, he apparently didn't want to continue the liaison. You know Kat, if I were a gambling man, I'd bet this Jodie Morris is the one who murdered Courtney Adams."

  "I have a sinking feeling you're probably right." Kat had the fleeting thought that she was glad she'd decided not to visit Dr. Morris on campus earlier that day.

  "Listen, Kat, you really should talk to Blaine when he gets home and ask him for his help in deciding what is the wisest course of action for you to take at this point. Blaine is good friends with Frank Moore, the police chief. You also know him, right? You guys might want to call him in the morning and tell him what you've found out. Since you're my client, it's up to you to share the information that turned up today, not me."

  "Thanks, Nick. Blaine will be home around seven-thirty, so I'll see what he says. As always, what would I do without you?"