by Lynn Cahoon
She ate her sandwich which really wasn’t as good as she’d hoped and threw away half of it. She’d grab lunch before she left on the bike trip. Maybe takeout from the Diner. A Reuben sandwich would be amazing. She sipped her coffee and then took a picture of the scarf. She texted the pic to her mom and then tucked it inside the zippered plastic bag for her uncle. Since her mom was working, Cat was surprised to get a text back just a few minutes later.
Cat opened the app and started reading. “Not mine. But it’s pretty. You should wear more scarves.”
Cat sighed and put the bag with the scarf on a chair. Always the lecture with her mom; no matter what the situation, Cat couldn’t meet her standards. All she told Cat was what she should do. She should wear more scarves. She should move out of town. She should be the one to blink and call Seth. Cat got busy cleaning the office.
She’d rearranged three shelves and had four more to go when a soft knock came on her door. Cat reached for the door and swung it open. A surprised Molly stood there, staring at her.
“I didn’t think you’d be here today,” Molly blurted.
Cat smiled. “I’m cleaning up. Someone decided to go all Hulk on my office so I’m cleaning up the mess the cops made when they came to rescue me. I’m not sure which was worse, the actual vandalism or this fingerprint powder that’s all over the place now.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had issues. Anyway, I was just going to drop off a thank you note. You’ve been so nice to me the last week. I wanted to let you know I appreciate it.” Molly glanced around Cat and into the room. “The office looks normal.”
“We put everything back to rights yesterday and so today’s just cleaning up the powder. I appreciate you taking the time to write me a note.” Cat peered at Molly. “Can I open it?”
Molly was looking up and down the hallway now. “Open what?”
“The thank you note?” It definitely was weird day. Maybe even weird week. Maybe there had been a solar flare up and everyone was acting strange because of that.
Molly dug in her purse. “Sorry, I must have left it at home. I’m so forgetful.”
“No matter, it’s the thought that counts.” Cat reached for the cleaning rag. “Anything else?”
“Did they find the person who did this?” Molly wasn’t leaving.
Cat dropped the cleaning rag onto the shelf. Molly must just be lonely. “No, they haven’t. But then again, there’s a murder investigation going on. I don’t think my office issue is going to rank high on the investigators’ to-do list.”
“Now, that’s not a nice thing to say about your uncle.” Uncle Pete stood behind Molly and when he spoke, she jumped.
“I’ve got to go,” Molly said as she scurried down the hallway.
“Was it something I said?” Uncle Pete stared after her.
“I don’t know. It was weird. She came to give me a card for being nice to her but she’d forgotten the card. She’s Molly, the one I told you about before who worked for Mr. Hines.” Cat turned and walked toward the desk, looking for the baggie and finally finding it on the chair shoved against a far wall.
Uncle Pete followed Cat into the office. “The one that had the same perfume as the scarf?”
Cat handed the baggie to him. “Same one. And no, it’s not Mom’s, but I got lecture number 148 that I should accessorize my looks more.”
“Your mother means well,” Uncle Pete said as he examined the scarf.
“That’s what you keep telling me,” Cat muttered as she went back to cleaning the shelf she’d just finished unloading when she’d gotten her first visitor. “Any idea who killed Mr. Hines?”
“Not yet.” Uncle Pete had tucked the baggie into his coat pocket. “But I still don’t need your help. You have your own problems here. The campus police turned over the fingerprints they found to the state CSI unit. Of course, they’ll run them against Covington’s database first.”
“You can’t think another professor or TA did this, can you?” Cat started stacking her King collection, then Koontz, on the shelf.
“The Covington database has more than just the staff who work here. It also has some of the students and their families.”
Cat put the last book on the shelf. “I don’t remember having my fingerprints taken when I started here.”
“Not every student is printed. Just the special ones.” Uncle Pete held up a hand. “And don’t ask. I’m not allowed to tell the Covington secret. And I need to head out.”
“Are you kidding me? You aren’t going to drop a bomb like that and just leave, are you?” Cat watched as her uncle stepped out into the hallway.
“Catherine Jane Gibson. There are some things in the world that should remain a mystery. This is one of them.” He paused at the doorway. “Let me know if anything else happens. I’m concerned about this break in. It seems odd, even for Covington.”
Cat finished settling in the last shelf of books, looked around the office and decided it was good enough. She put the cleaning supplies back in her backpack and locked the office door. When she got outside to her bike, she groaned.
Her tires were flat. Not just one, but both. She cursed and reached down to check with her fingers what she’d seen with her eyes. She unlocked the bike and tucked her chain into her backpack. If she hurried, she could walk the bike to the shop and drop it off. She’d have new tires by Monday. But she wouldn’t be taking a bike ride today.
She started to roll the bike toward Rolling Stones, the local bike and skateboard shop. She’d be happy when this week was over. Next week had to be better. Right?
Rickie was bringing in the new bikes from the front sidewalk when she turned the corner and rolled the bike in view. “Hey Rickie, can you help me?”
“Cat. What on earth happened? We just replaced those tires at the beginning of the season. Have you been trail riding on a pile of sharp knives?” Rickie hurried toward her, then knelt beside the bike.
“I was at the campus working. When I came out, the tires were flat. I didn’t feel anything when I rode in this morning. I would have known if I hit something, right?” Cat watched as he ran his hands around the front tire. “I know it was early, but I wasn’t asleep.”
He frowned and then repeated the motion on the back tire. “Cat, I don’t know who you ticked off, but these tires were slashed.”
Cat looked down and saw the knife marks in the rubber. “Are you kidding me.”
She took her phone out of her pocket. “Uncle Pete? Can you stop by Rolling Stones for a second? My tires have been destroyed.”
Rickie leaned the bike against a bench in front of the shop. “I’ll go finish closing up. Let me know when your uncle’s done with the bike. I can have it back to you by Monday if he doesn’t take it in for evidence.”
Cat shook her head. “I think my riding for the season is done. And it’s supposed to be beautiful this weekend.”
“All my rentals are out until Tuesday.” Rickie grinned as he paused by the door. “But if you want a new bike, I’ve got a beauty that I’ll give you for a good deal.”
“I like my bike.” Cat waved him off. Besides, she was on a shoestring budget. She hadn’t told her mom just how close she was to needing a student loan. A new bike from Rolling Stones wasn’t in her budget, even with a discount. “Thanks. I’ll let you know what Uncle Pete says.”
She didn’t have to wait for long and after just a few minutes of discussion, her uncle put the bike in his trunk. “I’ll bring it back here for Rickie to fix the tires after they go over it for prints.”
“Thanks.” She glanced up at the sky. It was beautiful. “It’s probably going to hit the low seventies today.”
“Sorry about the ride.” He leaned against the car. “Look, Cat, I know you’re an adult and all, but there are some rumors going on about you and a professor. This isn’t an angry wife getting even, is it?”
Cat laughed and picked up her backpack. “No, Uncle Pete, I’m not having an affair with a married man. Yo
u should know me better than that. And the professor in this story is pursuing me, not the other way around. And yes, I know he’s single. A bit of a flirt, but single.”
“Your mom doesn’t want you dating anyone from Covington.” He checked the surroundings for passersby. When he didn’t see any, he continued. “I’m of the same opinion.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that I’m in charge of my own life, then, isn’t it?” She held up her hand when he started to speak. “Besides, like I told Mom, I’m not dating this person. I’ve told him I don’t want to date. He buys me coffee now and then. He’s fun to talk to.”
“Okay, but if you decide you are thinking of dating someone from Covington, would you let me run a background check on him?” He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. “I might lose my job over it, but at least I wouldn’t have to worry about you.”
Cat leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’ll be the first to know. I guess I better get walking home. It just turned into a clean the house day instead of nice, relaxing bike ride out on the mountain trails. I’ll see you later.”
“Not if I see you first.” He let go of the hug and she adjusted her backpack.
Leaning into the store doorway, she saw Rickie at the cash register. “You’re right, he’s taking it in for testing. When he brings it back, don’t let him pay for my tires okay? I can afford that.”
“I’m not sure arguing with your uncle does anything but waste my breath, but I’ll try. Sorry about the rentals.” He waved, then went back to counting the till.
As she walked home, she considered taking the long way, but thought it might give Marcus the wrong idea if he happened to be out on his porch. She wasn’t interested in the man. But that didn’t seem to stop him. What was it with men? She’d told both Marcus and Michael she was unavailable. What did that do? Discourage them? No, it made them come after her more. She’d never understand the male section of the human race.
Could she have stepped on some woman’s toes in a relationship? Maybe Marcus had a psycho girlfriend or wife here on campus who had been sitting in the limo the first time he’d talked to her. She should call Michael and see if he knew. He had warned her to stay away from the man, maybe that was why. It would be great if that was who was messing with her. She’d tell her uncle, the girlfriend would get a strong talking to, and then she’d stop. As long as she wasn’t really crazy. Cat rolled her shoulders. She was tired from two days of cleaning. Whatever she’d told her uncle, the real story when she got home was to make something for lunch, then find a movie to watch and veg for a bit. She’d had a bad week.
She’d just finished her lunch when she realized she hadn’t called Michael. She grabbed her phone and found the number he’d keyed into the cell a few weeks ago. Just in case, he’d said. Well, she guessed that time had come.
“I didn’t expect to actually get a call from you.” His voice was warm like a cup of hot chocolate, with whipped cream.
“Not calling for that. Hey, you said you know Marcus Cornelio, right? Is he married or in a relationship?”
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about taking him up for that ride. Catherine, he’s not a nice guy.”
Cat usually corrected people when they called her Catherine, but not Michael. She wondered why that was. She focused on the question. “I’m not an idiot. But I have a theory. Is he in a relationship?”
Michael sighed. “Actually, no. His wife died a few years ago and he’s only just started thinking about dating. In fact, Dante was surprised his uncle actually hit on you when I told him. He said he’s been ignoring the whole dating thing.”
“You talked to your friend about me and his uncle?” Now that was interesting. Why would her name even come up in a conversation? Unless the rumors were true. They were on the borderline of an actual relationship. She swallowed hard. “Anyway, I need to go. Thanks for answering my question.”
“Are you busy tonight?” His voice was back to that smooth as silk thing.
“Yes, sorry, I’m expected at my mom’s. She’s had a bad week with the library and finding a body and such. I told her I’d come over and spend the evening with her. And Sunday too,” Cat added before he could suggest another day.
“Keep saying no and someday I might just believe you.”
Cat heard the call disconnect and she put the phone on the coffee table. Michael wasn’t a bad guy, he just wasn’t Seth. And her heart still wanted Seth. She didn’t know how long that might take, but it was today’s answer. And if he stopped asking? Then it wasn’t meant to be, was it?
She turned the television up and cuddled into the couch, determined to relax and stop thinking about people being killed, her office or her bike. Especially since the one theory she’d come up with hadn’t panned out. No one would be jealous of Marcus spending time with her because there wasn’t anyone to replace. Unless it was a real live ghost giving her problems.
She pulled the blanket closer. No, this wasn’t a ghost attacking her and her possessions. This was a real, live person. Now she just had to figure out why.
8
Cat’s phone rang at seven Sunday morning. She opened her eyes and groaned. Reaching for the phone by her bed, she knocked a book off as well as a couple of pens before she found it. “Somebody better be dead.”
“Catherine. Is that anyway to answer your phone?” her mother asked.
Cat sat up and ran a hand over her hair. “Sorry, Mom. Why are you calling so early?”
“I waited until seven. I thought you’d be up. I could have called at five and you could have gone for a walk with me this morning. The sunrise was beautiful.”
Cat curled her feet underneath her and tucked pillows behind her back. It wasn’t going to be a short call. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Does there have to be a reason for a mother to call her only daughter?”
Cat closed her eyes. Not only was there a reason, but it also entailed a favor. “At seven on a Sunday? Yes, there does have to be a reason. Otherwise, I’m hanging up and going back to bed.”
“Don’t hang up, sweetie. I wanted to know if you’d come to church with me. They’re doing a mother-daughter themed service and I’d love to show you off. Besides, you’ve never met Pastor Ted and his wife, Judy. You’d love them.”
“We’ve had this talk, Mom.” Cat sighed, her father’s words about being nice to her mom while he was out of town echoing in her head. “Sorry. Yes, I’d love to go with you. What time?”
“I’ll be at your apartment at eight thirty so we can do Sunday school too. My class is studying Acts. You’ll love the discussion.”
Cat doubted that, but she thought she might just find out who was feeding her mom information about her seeing Michael. It had to be someone from the church or the library. And Cat’s money was on the church. “I’ll see you then. Jeans are fine, right?”
“Catherine!”
“Just pulling your chain. I think I have a clean dress here somewhere.” She hung up the phone and headed to the shower to try to wake up.
At eight fifteen, a knock sounded from her apartment door and when she opened it, her mother handed her three dresses. “What are these?”
“Two of them were in your closet in your room. There are more, but they were mostly summer dresses. You can come over next weekend and go through them to see what you want to keep or giveaway to the charity box.” Her mother walked over and took a cup out of the cabinet. “Did you just make this pot?”
“No, I warmed up yesterday’s leftover,” she teased. When her mother’s hand flinched away from the handle, she laughed. “Just kidding, Mom. I made it fresh this morning. Right after you called.”
“Oh, then I’ll have a cup before we go. The teachers don’t get into the building before quarter to nine so there’s no reason to go early. I’m helping with cookies next week if you want to come again.” She poured herself coffee and took it over to the table where she moved a pile of books to clear a spot. “You really need
a desk. Or an office.”
Cat decided to ignore the statement. She held up the third dress. It was cute, but it wasn’t hers. “I don’t remember this one. Where did you get it?”
“I saw it a few weeks ago when your dad took me to Denver. I meant to bring it over then, but things have been a little busy.” She met Cat’s gaze. “The color really brings out your eyes.”
“The dress is beautiful. Thank you, Mom. I just don’t have a lot of places that I wear dresses.” She smiled as she moved toward the bedroom. Hopefully, her mother wouldn’t bring up going to church all the time as a place to wear dresses. “Let me hang these up and I’ll be right back.”
“Your uncle said your bike got damaged. Any idea who did it?” her mom asked after Cat returned to the living room and sat at the table with her.
Cat moved her stack of manuscripts to read to the other side of the laptop and then closed it and moved it too. Now they had almost half of the table, just for the coffee cups. “Actually, I don’t have a clue. I guess maybe I could have made a student mad, but I haven’t failed anyone yet. Although, the way the semester’s going, I’m thinking at least one of my kids is going to have to take English 101 again. I just hope it’s with another TA.”
