by Eryn Scott
“Okay… but I’ve gotta warn you, she’s a complete flirt. All over any guy she sees.”
His mouth pulled into a smirk. “I think I can handle it.”
A shiver danced up my spine. I blinked, getting my thoughts straight. He was absolutely the kind of guy I didn’t want to find myself falling for: a university student, a book strangler, seemingly mad at the world, and on his way out of town after graduation.
You wanted him to kiss you, though. What was that about? My unhelpful mind chose this moment to be coherent enough to analyze the situation.
I haven’t kissed anyone in a while and I got confused…
“You coming?” Alex asked as he started walking up the small slope to the concrete path. I grabbed my bag and followed the guy, repeating affirmations in my head as I did.
Alex wasn’t about to kiss me.
And I wouldn’t have wanted him to, if he had been.
Which he wasn’t.
Because he finds me annoying.
As I do him.
And gruff… brusque… ill-tempered… churlish.
A peace settled over me as I returned to my love of vocabulary, a mental sanctuary in my time of need.
Our shoes scraped and crunched across the concrete pathway which snaked through campus. Pulling my jacket tighter, I gestured to a walkway that would take us to the cafeteria where Katie worked. She normally covered dinner hours. I knew because I avoided the building during those times so I wouldn’t run into her. The sun was setting, as it was late fall in the northwest which meant sunsets at dinnertime. Bright oranges and pinks splashed the sky, making the campus look like it was being shot through one of those perfume-commercial filters, soft and dreamy. I peeked at Alex. His face was tipped up as he took in the same beautiful, slow-burning sky I was.
“It’s really pretty around here,” he said, after a moment.
I nodded. “Where are you from originally?” I asked.
“California.”
“Do you miss it?” I watched him.
He sighed, then shook his head. “It’s a different kind of beauty down there, but it also holds a few too many painful memories for me to appreciate it. At least for now.”
That was when I remembered the “was” he’d used the other day when talking about his mom. And this new mention of pain only added to my list of evidence she had, in fact, passed away.
Swallowing, I curled my fingers into fists. I got the pain Alex was talking about, even though he didn’t know how well I could relate.
The bright lights of the dining hall shone brightly in front of us as we came to the end of the path. A grassy hill was dotted with laughing students, hanging out on the cool lawn after dinner. We reached the large double doors of the dining hall and Alex held one open for me.
Once inside, I led the way to a table by the window where I spotted Katie cleaning up trays of dishes that’d been left behind. There were only a few students eating and the place was fairly quiet. We must’ve just missed the big rush. Katie’s long blond hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun and her apron was spotted with food stains.
Glancing up as we approached, Katie’s face lit up.
“Oh, hey Pepper!” She smiled, placing the tray of dishes on the nearest table. Her eyes landed on Alex behind me and I could see her blue eyes focus in on him, like lasers, ignoring me after that. “And who do we have here?”
Alex held his right hand out to shake hers. At the same time he wrapped his left arm around my shoulders.
“Hey, I’m Alex.”
I tensed up when he squeezed me close. Okay, vocabulary was definitely not going to help me out of this one. Mostly because the only words that came to mind were ones like solid, strong, and handsome.
Like me, Katie seemed to be going through her own list of adjectives. She blushed as she shook his hand. Her focus moved to Alex’s arm wrapped around me. The guy was clutching me to him like a signed first edition at a used book sale.
“Pepper, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone new.” She let go of his hand. “I was telling you all about seeing Michael yesterday and you didn’t even hint that you’d moved on.”
“Oh, I — uh —,” I stammered, looking at Alex for help.
“It’s pretty recent,” Alex said. He snaked his other arm around my waist and pulled me closer, looking at me like Liv and I look at chocolate during finals week, like we look at coffee after late nights studying.
“Extremely,” I croaked out.
Katie’s eyes played Follow the Leader with Alex’s hands. Finally, they snapped back to my face. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Liv got a place off campus.”
I hadn’t eaten a meal at the dining hall in two years, actually. But I couldn’t seem to answer or get my brain to focus on the questions I’d needed to ask her. It was too busy cataloging everywhere Alex was touching me: stomach, waist, shoulder, lower back, ribs. My thoughts were officially thirteen all over again, giggly and crushing hard. If I’d had any Lisa Frank stationary, his name would’ve been scribbled all over it, complete with hearts and “4eva”s.
“Mi pimienta, didn’t you have something you wanted to ask?” Alex gestured toward Katie, as if he knew I’d forgotten she was there.
And now a sweet nickname, too? I had no clue what it meant, but that didn’t stop me from almost melting to the floor. Alex held me up.
I cleared my throat. “Oh, right. Uh, Katie, Trish and Heather told me you saw Evensworth fighting with Dr. Campbell the other day, before he…” my voice cut out.
Katie nodded. “Yeah, they were yelling at each other in the hallway and I turned the corner and stumbled into the middle of it. But I turned and left right away. They looked pretty mad.”
“You left right away? You didn’t hear anything they said?” Alex asked, his sweet, fake boyfriend persona replaced by his police officer training.
Katie shook her head. “I heard Evensworth yell how Dr. Campbell wasn’t going to get away with this and then they stopped yelling when I walked up. That’s all I heard.”
If I had actually thought Katie could’ve given me important information about the case, this might’ve been a devastating blow to my investigation. But I had been expecting this to be a dead-end.
“You don’t think…?” Katie glanced down at her shoes for a moment and then back up at us.
“No. Just asking around,” he said and I could feel his body shift, ready to leave.
“I hope they catch the killer.” Katie shivered. “Sorry I didn’t hear more.” Her eyes lit up as she said this and then she added, “Hey, there was another lady in the hall with me. I think she heard a lot more of the argument. You should ask her.”
Alex and I straightened. “Who?” I asked.
“I didn’t recognize her,” Katie said. “She was tiny and had blond hair, looked like a little bird hiding behind Dr. Campbell.”
Eyes wide, I whispered, “Stephanie.”
12
At this newest piece of information, Alex’s arm tightened around me, in what seemed like an uncharacteristic physical expression of excitement.
“Nice meeting you, Katie,” he called over his shoulder as he maneuvered me out of the dining hall.
Between the shock of having Alex’s grabby hands all over me and the clue Katie had given us, I was most parts marionette puppet at that point. Alex had to pretty much carry me out of there.
Outside, Alex’s arm promptly left my body, the ruse officially at an end. I tugged at my light jacket and stepped away from him.
He winked. “Told you I could handle it.”
“Yeah.” The word came out breathier than I wanted. I cleared my throat. “I don’t see why you couldn’t have warned me you were going to get all handsy.”
“And miss the look on your face? Naw, that was priceless.” He chuckled.
“Rude,” I muttered. Luckily, the tip we’d learned from Katie had my head buzzing with more than just my frustration with Alex. “So if Stepha
nie saw the fight, too.” I thought aloud. “She might be able to tell us more about what happened next.”
He nodded. “So where to?”
I motioned to my right with a jerk of my head. “The Pine Crest Inn,” I answered cheerfully.
“You heard she was staying there?”
After a quick shrug, I said, “Not really, it’s just where everyone stays.”
“Wouldn’t the university put them up in one of the dorms?”
“Not when you’ve got the beautiful and relaxing Pine Crest Inn in which to house guests.”
Alex chuckled and we walked toward Main Street which acted as a border between the campus and the downtown section of Pine Crest. It was getting darker as the minutes ticked by. The streetlights of the university flicked on above us as we walked and I was secretly happy to have Alex along. Up until now, I’d always felt safe on campus and in our little town. But tonight, I felt the unmistakable tingle of fear distorting normal sights and sounds.
“You really don’t have to come with, you know. I could do this on my own,” I said, just making sure.
Alex dipped his head. “True, but I’m pretty sure your favorite professor is the killer, so I’d rather not leave you alone if it’s all the same to you.”
His words took me by surprise. I knew his dad suspected Fergie, but… “You said she might be in danger. She — someone left her that note as a threat.” Frustration tightened my chest.
He opened his palms. “That was before I learned more about the case. Look, I don’t want it to be true, but right now I haven’t heard anything that tells me otherwise. He was found in her office, no one can substantiate her claim she was ‘running about to prepare for the lecture,’ they have a romantic past, a note with the same handwriting was later found in her purse, and the poison used to kill Dr. Campbell sounds eerily similar to the one in Hamlet.” Alex paced while he rattled off the evidence.
My brain switched gears from frustration to interest as he confirmed my suspicions about the poison.
“Wait, he was for sure poisoned then?”
Alex’s face fell for a moment. He obviously wasn’t supposed to tell me that. With a sigh, he said, “Yes, but please don’t tell anyone, Pepper. This is an active investigation.”
I nodded, scrunching my forehead tight as I digested the new information. I mean, not new necessarily. Hearing it confirmed by Alex made more difference than I thought it would.
“It’s the same poison from Hamlet, then?” I asked, trying to remember the name of that deadly elixir. I was no Fergie and it took me a few seconds to locate the place where the name sat in my brain. “Hebanon? But it’s not real. He made it up.”
Pressing his lips together (maybe because he’d already told me too much and needed a physical reminder to keep his mouth shut), Alex nodded. “The poison that killed the professor is one of the few they think Shakespeare meant based on how it was administered and how quickly it killed the king.”
Contemplating where one might get such a poison around Pine Crest, I turned toward the inn. Alex kept pace next to me as I started walking again.
“I’m still kinda mad at you for thinking it’s Fergie,” I mumbled after a few blocks.
“I can live with that,” Alex replied.
We walked in silence the rest of the way. As we approached the inn, the yellow streetlights were replaced by the crisp, white shine from outdoor strings of Edison bulbs. They were strung together on the Wisteria covered lattice of the front trellis framed entry.
“Beautiful and relaxing.” Alex dipped his chin in appreciation.
Pulling open the large wood and glass front door, I led the way inside.
Betsy, a friend of my mom’s and the manager of the inn, sat behind the front desk. Her graying hair was pulled into a tight ponytail and she seemed wide awake despite the fact we were creeping steadily toward the “sober-suited matron” that was the night.
“Oh my goodness,” she crooned. “Aren’t you a sight, Pepper. I haven’t seen you since…” Betsy stopped at that point, realizing — as I already had — that the last time we saw each other was at my dad’s funeral almost a year ago.
I studied the ceiling, because it had beautiful dark wood beams running across it and not at all because it kept the tears crowding my eyes at bay.
After a moment and a deep breath, I glanced back toward Betsy. The woman’s rosy cheeks pressed up into a knowing smile. Her blue eyes appeared to be suffering from the same inconvenient level of moisture as mine.
“What can I do for you two?” Betsy asked, her smile faltering a little as she glanced at Alex.
“Dr. Davis Campbell’s daughter, Stephanie, is she here?” I asked.
Betsy shook her head. “No, she’s still out.” The woman craned her neck to peek at the clock positioned on the wall. “But she’s been getting back around this time each night if you want to wait.” She motioned to a few chairs in the foyer.
I nodded. “Thanks.”
We turned to sit on the plush couches lining the waiting area of the inn. I ducked out from under the strap of my messenger bag and propped it next to the couch.
If anyone asked, I would tell them that I was slightly annoyed when Alex plopped down next to me instead of occupying the second couch. In reality, however, the weight of his body next to mine and the fresh laundry smell he toted around with him like a bent up paperback in his pocket were both welcome comforts after the kick of emotion I’d just received.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Alex studying me. His eyes flicking between me and the main counter where Betsy had gotten back to work. He hadn’t missed the awkward, sad air that had gathered between us for those moments, or the redness which still rimmed my eyes. I could almost hear the questions line up in his mind.
His chance to move the queue forward came a few moments later when Betsy excused herself to go check on a guest.
“Did you bury her favorite dog the last time you saw each other or something?” Alex asked when we were alone.
“My dad, actually.”
I wanted to close my eyes as the words left me, but I looked at my sneakers instead. They were smudged and dirty compared to the pristine wood floors and expensive wool rugs of the inn.
After a silent moment, I dug deep and finally muscled a glance up to gauge the impact of my words. The man sitting next to me was tense, all clenched jaw muscles and wrinkled brow. He stared at the front door of the inn as if he were looking through it, past it, possibly all the way down to California.
My stomach dropped. Crap. I’d forgotten about his mom. This time I did close my eyes and used the painful silence to berate myself for, yet again, blurting out something I should’ve kept to myself.
A hand settled over mine, squeezing tight and my eyes flew open. While Alex’s face hadn’t let go of any of the tightness, his brown eyes were gentle as they watched me.
“I’m so sorry. How? When?”
“Almost a year. Heart attack.” My voice sounded gravelly, foreign. “And your mom?” I asked in the stranger’s voice.
He glanced away quickly, but the flash of pain I caught behind those brown eyes made my stomach churn.
“She was shot.” His voice broke around the words and the hand holding mine tightened.
Shot. The word made my mouth feel dry. I had a million questions, but kept quiet as I studied his face and saw he had more to say.
“In California, where we used to live. My dad and I moved up here a few months after it happened, needing to get away. Dad wanted to be in a smaller town where things weren’t so dangerous. Our neighborhood back home was pretty heavy with crime, gangs, that sort of thing.”
So that was why the Valdez men were so cold, so serious.
Alex swallowed and turned toward me. “It’s been six months. Does it ever get better?”
Pulling in a deep breath, I said, “Sort of. It gets less… stabby feeling, if that makes sense. There was a long time where every time I remembered he was gon
e, it would be like someone had stuck a kitchen knife into my stomach. It still hurts, but it’s more of a sting instead, and other days just a dull ache.”
He smiled and I decided, never having seen his father recreate such an expression, this light and wonderful gesture was something he’d inherited from his mother. While this didn’t erase my anger at him completely, I would be lying if I said it hadn’t lessened it, a lot. I met his smile with a hopeful one of my own.
In the midst of our moment, Betsy returned to her desk, her eyes tracking us in our close, hands-clasped-tight state as she clicked around on her computer. My cheeks heated up and I snuck my hand away from his.
Just as I was feeling like I might be digging myself out of the sadness that had piled over us during our conversation, the most recent victim of a deceased parent walked in through the inn’s front door.
13
My first reaction, upon seeing Stephanie, was to run up to her and envelop her in a we-know-your-pain, Kumbaya, children-of-dead-parents-club hug. Luckily, I was learning to think before I spoke, or acted. Plus, Alex beat me to it. His greeting was decidedly less emotionally charged.
“Stephanie,” he said matter-of-factly as he stood.
The small woman was even thinner, more washed out than last time I’d seen her. She looked like a name penciled into the front page of a book that someone had attempted to erase.
“Yes?” Her blue eyes hardened into a “who are you?” questioning stare. When she caught sight of me, however, her gaze relaxed. “Oh. Hi, Pepper”
I hadn’t seen her since that night. There were so many things I wanted to say: sorry, I know what you’re going through, it’ll get better. But the only thing that came out was, “Hey.”
I was actually kind of surprised the woman remembered me. But I suppose I had been the one to find her dad’s body, so…
“I’m Alex.” Alex reached forward and shook her hand. I noticed how he didn’t use his last name. I spent a few seconds wondering why until Stephanie’s quiet voice broke through my conjectures.
“What can I do for the two of you?” she asked, wrapping her delicate arms around herself as the last bit of cold air from outside brushed past us.
