by Eryn Scott
Rolling my eyes at her, I said, “Pull it together, lady. I didn’t mean my decision about my major. I’m talking about the investigation.”
Liv straightened up. “Oh my gosh. I’m so glad. I don’t think I could handle listening to anymore of your complaining about this.”
I picked up a pen sitting next to me on the counter and threw it at her. “Like I haven’t sat through countless hours listening to you lament about everyone’s lack of conference call etiquette.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and I washed my hands so I could help.
“So what about the investigation?” she asked, blowing on a spoonful of sauce and then tasting it.
“Well, I had decided to stay out of it.” I sighed, pulling a large glass baking dish out of the cupboard for the lasagna. “But Fergie is the main suspect and I hate to think of her imprisoned in the viewless winds and blown with restless violence round about the pendant world.”
My roommate arched an eyebrow. “Yeah, if they find her guilty, those winds aren’t going to be the only place she’ll be imprisoned.”
I rolled my eyes at her.
“But seriously,” she said after a moment. “Romeo aside, you’ve got a point.”
“Claudio.” I cleared my throat.
“Whatever. If the police already have her in mind, maybe they’re missing other suspects.”
I washed the dishes as Liv layered the noodles, ricotta, sauce, and meat into the dish. We talked about our classes while Hammy sniffed around at our feet hoping for rogue ingredients. Doubts swam around in my brain and I realized I’d gotten out of one “To be or not to be” dilemma only to get stuck in a new one.
“To be involved in the investigation or not to be involved in the investigation. That is the new question,” I said, mumbling the last part.
Liv elbowed me. “Oh please, this one’s even less of a question than the last. Of course you’re gonna be involved.”
Squinting at her, I said, “How are you so sure?”
“You always say how you wish you could do something on your own, apart from your family. Here’s your chance. Not to mention you could save a life or at least your favorite professor’s reputation if you succeed.” She shrugged as she slid the lasagna into the oven.
Motioning over to the table, she grabbed one of the pads of paper we used to write down grocery lists.
“Let’s write down what you know.” Liv popped off the lid to a pen and scrawled The Case of the Shakespeare Nerd across the top line.
I smirked. “Okay. Well, I found him at six thirty. Fergie and Stephanie had passed me in the hallway a few minutes before.”
Nodding, Liv wrote “Suspects” under the time 6:30 and listed Dr. Ferguson and Stephanie underneath in her computer-like perfect printing.
“Whoa, whoa. Wait. Those two aren’t suspects. That’s why I’m doing this in the first place, to stop the police from arresting Fergie.”
Liv tipped her head to the side. “Peps, if you’re going to be serious about this, you have to be able to rule Fergie out using facts instead of feelings. We’re only putting her on the list to be thorough.”
I nodded. Nancy Drew would’ve done the same. “Okay. Put Naked Newt and Evilsworth next.”
Liv eyed me. “Naked Newt? What does he have to do with it?”
“I saw him right before on campus, by the English building. Plus he said something about the scent of blood being on the wind.” I cringed, replaying his words in my head.
“When does anything Newt does make sense? Plus, he talks about blood all the time. Come to think of it, he mentioned it this morning when I was getting a mocha before class.” Liv waved a hand toward me, trying to dismiss my fears.
I scrunched my nose. “I guess…”
“Well, it can’t hurt to write him on the list.” She shrugged and added the other two names. “Now we have to look at motives.”
“Well, Evilsworth had the best one. Apparently Dr. C had ripped his new book apart in an article. That’s enough reason to be mad at someone, to try to get revenge.” I recounted what I’d heard from my classmates in the library.
“Yeah,” Liv tipped her head to the side. “Killing someone over a book seems a little intense, even for Evilsworth, but I’ll write it down.”
Scrunching up my nose, I scoffed. “Maybe that wasn’t the only article, though. Maybe it was only the first of many reviews Dr. Campbell planned on writing. This was Evilsworth’s chance to stop him from doing so.”
“I’m not adding that until we know for sure.” Liv shook her head.
Inwardly grumbling, I seceded. “Okay. Fergie and Dr. C used to date, but I’m not so sure that’s a motive. She still seemed in love with the guy.”
Liv scoffed. “Are you serious? Tons of people kill people they’re in love with. I mean, he was married, right? To someone other than Fergie? I’d say if she was in love with him, that’s even more reason to kill him.”
“Not anymore,” I said, shaking my head. “Dr. C’s wife died about six months ago. Cancer. Fergie told me.”
My brain zoomed in on the memory of my talk with Fergie in her office when she’d mentioned having a history with Dr. Campbell. Had she said they were an item off and on? How long had they been off if his wife had died six months ago?
What if this was some kind of jealous revenge from a decidedly dramatic scorned lover? Was it possible my favorite teacher could’ve done this?
Not privy to my frantic thoughts, Liv “hmmm”ed for a moment, then said, “Yeah, I suppose that weakens the motive. What about Stephanie?”
I waved a hand, shaking my head. “It was her mother who died, since Dr. C was her stepdad. She had a good, friendly relationship with him, though, so I really don’t see a motive there.”
Liv nodded. “Why would she kill another parent after recently losing one?” She stared at her list a little longer. “So it looks like Evilsworth is our best guess at this point.”
I gulped down my worries about Fergie.
“Nancy would find out if he had the opportunity and a weapon next.” I pointed to the pad of paper.
“So if he wasn’t killed by the pills, how did he die?” Liv asked.
“I think he was poisoned.”
“Very Shakespeare.” Liv clicked her tongue.
I nodded. “Which fits with the quotes from the different plays.”
“But Evilsworth hates Shakespeare. Why would he quote The Bard?”
“Exactly. No one would suspect him.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “Plus, that would make sense. Only someone who didn’t care about Shakespeare or wasn’t well versed in it would get that line wrong.”
Liv sighed. “Okay. I guess the next step would be to find out where he was right before you found the body.”
Nodding, I realized I was actually looking forward to Evilsworth’s class tomorrow.
9
Normally, on the days I had Evilsworth’s class, my shoulders grew tenser the closer I got to setting foot in the classroom. But that afternoon, I had an excited skip to my step and couldn’t wait to take my seat in his stuffy, creativity-stifling classroom. I was even early, something I’d not been since the very first day of my freshman year.
The door opened and I nearly shivered with anticipation as Evilsworth strode into the room. Could I get him to confess? Could I trip him up and make him spill the whole thing to me like villains did in movies? Murderers were always waiting for a chance to tell someone about the exact way they killed someone… right?
“Let’s get started,” Evilsworth’s low voice boomed around the room as he towered over us.
I hated how he used his size to intimidate people. I mean, the man had to be close to six foot seven, the only hair left on his head was concentrated into two dark, furrowed eyebrows, and his hands were so big he could probably palm the bottom of a gallon of milk without stretching a finger. Come to think of it, they were the perfect mitts for wrapping around some unsuspecting person’s throat and squeezing —
tight.
I shook my head. No. Dr. Campbell hadn’t been strangled. My eyes narrowed and my lips curled into a grin. Ahh, yet another way to throw the police off his scent. Smart man. Shakespeare at the crime scene? Why, I hate Shakespeare! Poison, you say? I could’ve squashed the man’s skull with one hand. Why in the world would I have poisoned him? Luckily, I saw through such obfuscation.
After listening to the man drone on about Steinbeck for the better part of the hour — even though the course was Literary Criticism and Theory, not American Literature, the man had a way of working in Steinbeck wherever he could — he finally let us go for the day. I bit my bottom lip as I packed up my things. Holding my fat textbook in front of me since it wouldn’t quite squeeze into my already-full messenger bag, I walked up to the front of the room. My fingers gripped the edges of the book like a shield.
“Excuse me, professor.” I cleared my throat.
The man’s face tightened, the muscles in his jaw taut as he looked down on me. “Ms. Brooks, what is it?”
“Um…” The word echoed in the now-empty room. Suddenly, confronting a possible murderer seemed like a terrible idea.
He leaned forward. I took a step back.
“I was thinking of doing my paper on the theory Steinbeck’s writing was directly influenced by Shakespeare.”
Evilsworth pulled in a deep, tortured breath. “And what similarities, besides sharing the initial consonant in their surnames, could you possibly think would show that?” his normally pink head almost glowed red.
I blinked. “There are marked similarities between Lady Macbeth and Curley’s wife in Of Mice and Men and I was thinking —”
“Ms. Brooks, there is about as much evidence of that as there is Hemingway was writing about his cats instead of love and war.”
Which was false — the evidence part, not the thing about the cats — because I’d finished my paper last night and had found plenty of evidence. I swallowed and tried to delicately side-step his comment.
“I’m not the only one who thought so. I had heard Dr. Campbell was going to talk about something similar in his lecture and I was really looking forward to it.” Okay, that was a lie, but one I needed to bring the late professor into this conversation.
Evilsworth’s spine straightened.
“He sounded like such a brilliant man. Did you get a chance to talk with him before he… died?”
“I — um — we chatted briefly, yes.” He dipped his head in a stiff nod. “Excuse me, Pepper, I need to — go,” he stammered and then spun out of the room.
My mouth hung open in surprise.
“Why do you do it, Pepper?” A voice asked from behind me.
Whirling around, I saw the tall, lumpy form of Destiny, Evilsworth’s TA. The girl was actually quite thin, but whether from ill-fitting clothing or her interesting physique, she always seemed to bulge under and out of her clothes.
I cleared my throat. “Doing what, exactly?”
“Writing term papers on topics you know he’ll hate. He’s going to count you down for ineffective evidence.” She rolled her eyes.
“Actually, I believe it’s you who does most of the grading, isn’t it?”
Her eyes shifted to the ground for a moment. “He checks over them.”
In the elite and cut-throat world of English department TAs, I was somewhat infamous. While I wasn’t technically a TA in the sense I would teach classes and grade papers, I helped Fergie out where I could. This usually meant tackling mundane tasks which should make me want to shout with boredom, but with her by my side we always managed to get deep into a conversation until, eventually, we would move to the small couch outside her office, chatting and sipping on tea.
I took this chance to see if I could catch Destiny off guard.
“Where was Evensworth on Tuesday night between six and seven?” I watched her face like Hammy watched mine whenever I ate.
Her features froze. “Pepper, do you promise not to tell anyone?” She rushed forward, linking her arm through mine and pulling me close, her eyes slid across the empty room and landed on the door.
Gulping, I nodded. “Of course.”
“Tuesday night, Dr. Evensworth was in a terrible rage over what Dr. Campbell had written about his book.” Her eyes were wide and rimmed in white, her nostrils flared. “He was pacing in his office, knocking things over right and left, and then…” She glanced to the door again.
“And then…?” I prompted, heart pounding, head light.
“He punched the wall and said he was going to find that little British man and show him what ‘unsubstantiated drivel’ he was. I followed him, afraid he was going to hurt someone, but he didn’t seem to care if there was a witness. We found the professor in Dr. Ferguson’s office and he grabbed the poor guy’s neck then started squeezing.”
My thoughts raced as Destiny let go of my arm… But I hadn’t seen any marks on Dr. C’s neck… My eyes shifted to the ceiling as I thought through the evidence. It didn’t make sense. I looked back at Destiny, a million questions on my lips, and I caught the ill-intent shimmering in her eyes.
Oh. Destiny was messing with me. I should’ve expected as much from a person who would willingly spend more time than they had to with Evilsworth.
“Haha. Okay, thanks for nothing.” I headed for the door, shaking my head.
Destiny broke into a fit of snorting giggles. “Oh, Pepper. That was — hehe — you should’ve seen — ha — I’ve never had so much —”
I didn’t wait to hear the rest, letting the door close behind me.
My sister, Maggie, snorted out a giggle in the same annoying way when I told her the story later that day.
“Oh, Peps,” Maggie said, covering her mouth with her hand, as if it might hide the laughter.
I sighed. “I know it’s Evilsworth. I just need the proof.”
She quirked an eyebrow at me. Maggie always had big sister advice in her back pocket, ready to help me see my misguided ways.
“I can’t imagine why you thought it would be as easy as asking his TA.”
“I know.” Little voice, little sister.
“Was the fight real or did she make that up, too?” Maggie placed her hands on her lower back and arched her spine, grimacing at the weight of her pregnant belly.
“That’s the thing. I don’t know. I heard about the fight from some of my classmates at the library, too.”
Maggie leaned forward and tapped her fingers on the granite countertops of her immaculate kitchen.
“Were they there?” Maggie asked.
“No. They’d only heard about the fight.”
Josh, my brother in law, walked into the room as I said that, carrying Brooklyn over his shoulder while she squirmed and squealed. His eyebrows lifted at the word “fight.”
“I don’t care what they’re saying, Danny didn’t do it.” Josh put Brooklyn down, tickling her as she raced over to me. Even through the playful gesture, Josh’s face remained serious.
Maggie and I glanced at each other.
“Do what?” I asked warily as Brooklyn ran off into the other room.
“You’re talking about the professor who died, right?” Josh worked in the IT department of the university, so even though he wasn’t a Pine Crest native, he still stayed pretty up-to-date on the local happenings.
I nodded.
“I know it wasn’t Danny,” he said again.
“Danny? As in the guy you hired despite the multiple assault charges on his record?” Maggie asked.
Josh rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that one. He’s also my best technician and is really trying to turn things around. He didn’t kill the guy.”
Maggie threw up a hand. “Who said he did?”
Josh’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Pepper just did.”
Maggie and I shook our heads slowly.
I pulled in a quick breath. “Wait, Dr. C got in another fight right before he died?”
“Another?” Josh scowled.
“
I wasn’t talking about Danny just now. Apparently Evilsworth also had it out with the man right before he wound up dead,” I explained. “And you said you know he didn’t do it. How?” I looked at my brother-in-law.
Josh said, “Danny’s got a hot temper, but who could blame him? That Campbell wouldn’t shut up about the sound until Danny blew up at him, but that’s all it was, a fight.”
“Were you with him the whole time?” I tried to picture who Danny was. I think he’d helped Fergie the other day when her speakers went out. Big guy. Scruffy. A little rough.
“No, he took a smoke break right after the fight, saying he needed to calm down a bit before the lecture started or…” Josh stopped, swallowing hard.
“Or what?” Maggie asked, hand on her hip.
“Or he was going to punch that damn doctor in the face the next time he saw him.” Creases formed on Josh’s forehead as he realized how incriminating it sounded.
I tapped the pen on the counter. “And how long was this smoke break?”
Josh shrugged. “I dunno, like ten minutes. He came back and got to work, but then we heard the news and — well — realized we no longer needed to set up for the lecture, so we made sure there wasn’t anything we could do to help and went home.”
My toes curled in my shoes as I thought. This was good information, but it didn’t make sense. Why would some random sound guy kill him after one fight, and why would he leave a Shakespeare quote behind?
“Have you ever seen Danny and Fergie together?” I asked, thinking of the second note, the one I’d found in her purse.
Josh nodded. “Yeah. He likes her. Thinks she’s hilarious.”
I smooshed my lips together. “I think you might be right, Josh. It doesn’t sound like Danny had enough of a motive to kill Dr. Campbell.”
“Right?” His shoulders relaxed as I said this.
By the time I left that night after dinner, I knew two things: I may not think Danny did it, but I was definitely adding him to the suspect list. Also, I needed to talk to the person my classmates claimed had told them about the fight between Evilsworth and Campbell. Maybe she’d seen something that could break this case wide open.
