Murder at Cold Creek College

by Christa Nardi

  I suggested we get dinner and she agreed to meet me at the Grill around 6 o’clock. That would give me time to get home, deal with Charlie, and change into shorts. I also remembered to ask her if she thought people would avoid the rec center. She said she wasn’t sure about others, but she was going to take this week off. I guessed Mitch was right.

  I stopped at the main office to check with Terra and Ali. Terra kept looking at Ali’s closed door and confirmed Mitch’s comment that now the local police were talking to Ali. I went back to my office and worked until a little after 4 before I decided to call it a day. I hadn’t accomplished as much as I wanted, but I was spent. As happened yesterday, as I was ready to leave, McMann was at my door. I smiled when I saw him, though I wasn’t sure why I found seeing him again so pleasing.

  Exaggerating a look at his watch, he commented, “Leaving already, Sheridan?”

  “Yeah, that was the plan,” I responded, still smiling.

  “I hate to do this, but can you hold up a few minutes? I promise not to keep you too long,” he asked, hands spread.

  “No problem.” I waved him to the chair, and he shut the door after giving me a questioning look and getting a nod. I did like his style. He sighed, sat down, and looked like he was beat. His hands went through his hair again.

  “So how has your day been? Learn anything new?” he asked.

  “Other than that you’re not the only one who isn’t thrilled with Joe Janis asking questions,” I said with a bit of sarcasm, “I have discovered that I probably don’t know some of the faculty I’ve worked with for the last few years very well.”

  “Full of surprises? Any related to Adam Millberg or his murder? Anyone confess by any chance? Any changes to your drawing I should know about?” he countered with a smirk.

  I chuckled, and answered, “Afraid not. And how has your day gone? No offense, but you look tired.”

  His response was to sigh again. After some hesitation, he asked, “So which residential center did you work at?”

  Not quite sure where that came from, and a little surprised he even remembered, I answered, “Children’s Place, in Pennsylvania. Why? What on earth does that have to do with Adam’s murder?” I must have looked very confused. I certainly felt that way.

  Now it was McMann’s turn to chuckle. He explained, “I think I now understand your comment about sometimes feeling like you’re still working with troubled youth is all.” He shook his head and asked, “Does anyone ever tell that Bentler guy to shut up? Does he think he is royalty or what?”

  “Uh huh, you had yet another conversation with Max.” Now it was my turn to laugh. “Unless you want to hear about his research or something outrageous that happened to him, you are probably wasting your time. I suspect he only knew Adam was on the faculty because he had to fight him for a preferred classroom with all the bells and whistles. Or maybe which student’s thesis he would chair.”

  “But he does seem to be explosive. He was bragging how much he could press and what great shape he was in.” McMann’s expression showed how little he believed in Max’s prowess. He continued, “Is Max married or is there any chance he might have been jealous of Adam’s various relationships?” He wiggled his eyebrows as he asked the last question.

  I explained, “That would require that Max be aware of Adam’s relationships first of all, and unless there was a scandal or such, I don’t think Max would be interested. He is married. Stella, his wife, must be a saint. He’s brought her to a couple of the department functions, and she smiles at him when he looks at her. I asked once, and they don’t have any children. As for his being explosive,” I paused to think about it before continuing. “He is explosive, but verbally. I’ve never seen him throw anything or even take a stance like he might be aggressive. Honest? The closest to that I’ve seen was his attempt to stand up to you yesterday and he probably did that to save face.”

  “Okay, but I don’t like the guy. On the other hand, Mitch seems to be a pretty good guy, a straight arrow, and seems to call it likes he sees it. His description of Adam’s philandering was a bit more extensive than yours.” It wasn’t a question, but it felt like a question and his expression certainly suggested that it was a question.

  “He was murdered, and some of his philandering as you put it was with some people I care about. Not to mention that Mitch has been around a lot longer so he probably knows a lot more of the history. Hell, I didn’t even know Katie had been married to Adam until last night!” I knew I sounded a bit defensive, but it couldn’t be helped.

  McMann chuckled again, and then got serious. “Sheridan, I know you’re friends with Kim Pennzel, and I hope that it ends up that she is innocent. In the meantime though, as your drawing suggests, there are a lot of people to eliminate. Unfortunately, she’s the only one so far who happened to be at the rec center and was seen with him socially recently, not to mention having a history with him. Sorry.”

  I shrugged. There wasn’t much else I could say. Saying I didn’t think she could kill someone seemed kind of lame. He watched me, and I shrugged again.

  “Well, I stopped by to see if you by chance had found out anything that would help in the investigation. I am heading back to the field office in Appomattox tonight to file reports and such, and probably won’t be back for a day or two. Well, unless something breaks. Here’s my card, and if you think of anything or anyone confesses, please give me a call.” He handed me his business card, and I noted that his first name was Brett. Standing up, he added, “Walk you out?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I answered, feeling somewhat deflated. I wondered how I was going to cheer up Kim after he told me she was a prime suspect. I guess that meant Ali wasn’t as high up on the list.

  As we walked to my car, McMann asked me a couple more questions about the grounds and the arboretum in particular. At my car, he looked over in that general direction, and then with a smile, suggested that maybe I could show him the arboretum some time. I was taken aback by his comment, but also pleased by the prospect. In fact, his parting comment made me feel a little better. I hoped I hadn’t blushed. At least I had a tan so maybe it wasn’t too obvious.

  I drove home and took care of Charlie, changed my clothes, and was off to the Grill. Kim got there ahead of me and she already had a table. I joined her, trying to be as upbeat as possible. She also seemed to be trying to be upbeat. After we ordered, I asked her how she was.

  She commented that one of Cold Creek’s finest stopped by to tell her he needed to talk to her and she had put him off until tomorrow. She seemed to visibly crumble and said that McMann had been to see her late in the afternoon. He had gone through all his questions again about where she had been Sunday night through Monday when Adam’s body was found. He also asked her about her prior relationship with Adam. Then to her surprise he asked her about a few occasions they had been seen together recently.

  “How did he know where and when we ate? It was unnerving, Sher,” she commented, eyes wide. She picked up the bottle of steak sauce. It was brand new and she carefully took off the plastic seal.

  “Oh, Kim, haven’t you figured out that any time you go out with anyone, whether it’s here in Cold Creek or in North Shore or Altavista, you are bound to run into someone you know? You may have been so focused on Adam that you didn’t notice them, but obviously someone, or more than one, saw the two of you,” I told her.

  I wondered at how a bright, intelligent woman hadn’t expected this. But then, this was the same bright, intelligent woman who got involved with Adam not once, but twice. I remembered a saying my grandma told me – ‘fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me’. I guess Kim’s grandma never shared that adage with her.

  “I guess I didn’t think about it. My personal life should be my business, not the whole town’s. Anyway, he asked how the relationship was going. He asked if we had a disagreement lately, when was the last time we saw each other, and so on. I’m so scared, Sher.” She was usually very energetic, but tonight even h
er long red hair seemed to lack its usual luster and bounce.

  She shook her head and then shook the bottle of steak sauce to mix it, but the cover flew off and steak sauce went flying everywhere! She nailed the waitress and most of the booth. I started laughing and so did she. She and Zoe, our waitress, were now well ‘sauced’. Kim’s hair had brownish red streaks and it was dripping over her shirt.

  We laughed until we were both having trouble breathing. Zoe came over with sponges and towels. Kim took one of the towels and made for the rest room. Zoe shook her head and I helped her move us and our food to an empty booth. She then followed Kim to the restroom. Kim came back first and had on a shirt a couple sizes too big for her, her sauce decorated one in her hand. At my questioning look, she explained that Zoe had brought her the shirt. It belonged to her daughter. We settled down and ate. Zoe came to check on us after a bit and I noticed she didn’t have the waitress shirt on anymore. We were going to have to tip her real good tonight.

  “Kim, think back to Sunday night. Can you think of anyone you talked to on the phone? Sent an email to? Anything you did on the computer that would have a time stamp?” I asked. These were the only things I could think of to help give her an alibi or show she was at home.

  “Umm, let me think. I always call my mom on Sunday nights. Around 7 or 8 before she goes to bed. We talked for probably 30 minutes. She was going for tests this week and was worried. We talked about the options if she had a problem on the stress test and needed an angiogram or surgery,” she shared.

  “Oh, Kim, I’m sorry to hear that. Did she have the stress test yet?” Kim and her mother were close, and if her mother needed surgery, Kim would want to go to Florida to be with her. Not likely to happen if she was a prime suspect in Adam’s murder.

  “Yeah, and she did okay.” Kim shrugged and then added, “It was routine, I think. Her blood pressure was higher than normal, and with her age, she is at increased risk for heart problems.”

  “Okay, so you talked to your mom – on your home phone or your cell?” I asked.

  “On my cell, of course, why?” she countered.

  “Well, you can prove you talked to your mother at that time, but not where you were when you called her. Did you take any other calls or make any other calls? Did you talk to Adam Sunday night?” I asked.

  “No, I didn’t talk to Adam on Sunday night.” She sighed, and added, “We were together Saturday night, and he didn’t leave until after breakfast on Sunday.”

  Seeing her hang her head at this admission, I pointed out, “Kim, you’re an adult, and you have every right to have a sex life. Did you get all guilt-ridden when you told McMann this?”

  “Well, actually, I didn’t tell him. Just like if I was being deposed or testifying in a hearing for a client, I only answered his direct questions. He didn’t ask about Sunday morning or Saturday night, so I didn’t tell him, Sher.”

  “Okay, that makes sense. Can you think of anyone else you talked to Sunday night? Pizza delivery? Talk to your neighbor?” I knew I was pulling at straws, but anything that would help her establish her whereabouts would be helpful in eliminating her.

  “I don’t remember. I cooked. I talked to my mother. I watched some television. I read a book. This is bad, isn’t it?” she asked, looking beaten.

  “Maybe you’ll remember something. If it makes you feel any better, I can’t prove I was home on Sunday either, Kim,” I said, trying to be reassuring.

  Then Zoe came back with our check. We ate here often enough that Zoe knew us and after tonight she’d certainly not forget us. She leaned against the table and asked how we were doing with the murder and such. We gave the “as well as can be expected” answer. Zoe shook her head and went to wait on her other tables.

  I asked Kim what time she got to the rec center, who she saw, if she had even gone into the weight room, and if she ever went into the weight room. She told me McMann asked her the same questions. She had gotten there about 7 o’clock, did her warm-ups and then the treadmill. She said she hadn’t been in the weight room at all that morning, and rarely went in there at all. One of the trainers tried to get her interested, but she preferred the treadmill, rowing machine, and elliptical, usually doing one or the other each day. All in all, the good news was that if a weight was used, and if they were able to get fingerprints, at least they wouldn’t be Kim’s. Of course, that assumed he was killed with a weight.

  We haggled over who would pay the bill and I prevailed. I gave Kim a hug and went home. I was still thinking about how to exonerate Kim and then remembered what McMann had said about Ali and her attorney. Very odd.

  I remembered I had his business card and checked to be sure I hadn’t misplaced it. I went to sleep thinking about his comment about the arboretum and thinking what a nice, and nice looking, man he was. It had been some time since I went to sleep thinking about a man, other than in anger.

  Chapter 5

  I no sooner arrived at my office, and Terra and Ali descended on me like vultures. They looked distressed. I only hoped no one else had been murdered or that Kim hadn’t been arrested.

  “Dr. Hendley, did you see the email from Dr. Grant?” Terra asked, not pleased. I answered to the negative and she quickly saved me the trouble of pulling up the message.

  “He sent a message announcing that there will be a memorial service tomorrow for Dr. Millberg. Joe said the body hasn’t been released yet, but even when it is released, he understood there would be no funeral. So the memorial is being held here on campus instead. Apparently it will be between the fountains and the arboretum,” Terra explained, shaking her head.

  “Huh? Here and not at a funeral home or church or other place of worship? That seems a bit odd. Wonder who decided all this?” I asked. The question that occurred to me was who was Adam’s next of kin? And it did seem strange it would be secular, though I honestly had no idea what religion, if any, Adam practiced. Not to mention a bit odd to have a memorial service on campus. It wasn’t like he was the President or anything.

  Ali shrugged and added, “From what Dr. Grant said there will be a lot of the big wigs from the board of trustees. He said they hired the local wedding service to set up the reception because they would need chairs and such. This place is going to be even more of a zoo than it already is.” She shook her head as well.

  At least this must be providing a distraction. She certainly didn’t look distraught over Adam, the investigation, or the Cold Creek policeman from the day before. Not to mention that it seemed pretty ironic that Adam’s memorial was being planned by the wedding service given the number of wives he had. I wondered if all four wives would be here for the service. We chatted a little more and then I excused myself to get some work done.

  First thing I did was pull up my email. Aside from some junk email and listservs, I had emails from Jim and from Cold Creek’s President, Dr. Harrison Cramer. I pulled up Jim’s and then Dr. Cramer’s, finding that Jim’s was passing along Dr. Cramer’s with the added sentiment that as Adam’s colleagues, he expected that we would all attend the service. Dr. Cramer’s text read simply:

  ‘Cold Creek College community has been shaken this week by violence against one of our faculty, costing him his life. Dr. Adam Millberg served on the faculty for 11 years and was a respected and contributing member of our community during that time. His untimely death is surely felt by all who knew him, faculty, staff and students alike. Tomorrow at 11:00, there will be a memorial service to celebrate his life and his tenure here at Cold Creek College. I would encourage all to attend this service so that the College community can begin the grieving process and start the semester next week with this incident behind us. The service will be held outside the administration building, between the arboretum and fountains. Please join us.’

  It struck me as a rather stark message, but then it didn’t have any information. In fact, it didn’t even mention the department. Mostly, I was struck with the notion that Dr. Cramer might think that this would put the incid
ent behind us. Funerals did have the goal of bringing closure, but closure didn’t seem likely unless the police were able to solve the case. It also implied that having a memorial would mean that the grieving would be over by Monday. I doubted that would be the case for those who had been close to Adam. It occurred to me that McMann probably would want to know about this, and pulling out his business card, I forwarded Dr. Cramer’s email to him.

  I worked pretty steadily for about an hour, until I was interrupted by a knock on my door. A student was standing in my doorway, obviously upset. She was blonde, attractive, well dressed, and looked to be a junior or senior rather than a freshman. I didn’t know her so I guessed that Mitch followed up and let the front office know we were available, and someone had sent her my way. She looked about to cry.

  “Why don’t you come in and sit down,” I suggested softly, and closed my door as she stepped in. She immediately started sobbing and it took some time before she calmed down enough to talk.

  “I’m Dr. Hendley and you are?” I asked, keeping my voice quiet and calm.

  “Rachel,” she answered and tears started again.

  “Rachel, can you take a deep breath for me? Are you a student here at Cold Creek?” She took the deep breath, and nodded affirmatively. I figured she was a student, but I wanted to stick to what might be safe.

  “So what year are you in? And your major?” I asked, again trying to stick to facts.

  “Senior. Psy…” and she became hysterical, sobbing loudly. I suggested she try breathing again. With her major being psychology, I was pretty sure that this was related to Adam’s death. It looked like the dam was about to break with student reactions.

  “Rachel, we are all upset about Dr. Millberg. It’s hard sometimes when death is sudden,” I said, hoping she would find my words supportive. I added, “There will be a memorial service tomorrow for him. Sometimes participating in a memorial helps.”