Murder at Cold Creek College

by Christa Nardi

  An hour after I started, I was done. That was the way of Monday-Wednesday-Friday classes. I gathered everything up and went back to my office. Yes, it was only an hour, but my adrenalin rush about wiped me out. Dropping everything else on the desk, I took the roster and went to see Terra to find out about the students who weren’t on it. She and Ali were both in Terra’s office area talking. Not wanting to barge in, I hesitated before walking in.

  “Hi Dr. Hendley. How was your first class?” Ali asked. Both she and Terra looked at me expectantly.

  “Good, but about five students who were there weren’t on the roster. Can you check on them please?” I asked and handed Terra the roster.

  While she was looking up the names I’d written down, I asked, “Did either of you do anything exciting over the weekend?”

  Both shook their head, and Ali asked, “What about you?”

  “Kim and I went to the movies and saw the chick flick, but wouldn’t recommend it. And dinner at the usual,” I answered.

  Terra’s fingers had been flying and her printer beeped, and she handed me the printout. “Here you go. Four of them are showing up now. Not quite sure where the fifth came from. Sorry, he still isn’t showing for this section,” she explained. This was not unusual. He was probably on the roster for the Tuesday-Thursday section, but came to this one with his friends. I’d have to address that with him on Wednesday.

  I thanked Terra and smiled at both of them. I realized they kept looking at each other. “Is there something I should know, ladies?”

  “Yeah, well, Officer Hirsch is looking for you. He says you put him off on Friday, and now he thinks you are avoiding him,” Ali offered with a smirk. “He was hanging around here for a while this morning.”

  “We explained you were teaching this morning, so don’t be surprised if he is lying in wait for you at your office,” Terra added with a sigh.

  I shrugged my shoulders and went back to my office. Sure enough there was the officer, still looking like he was about 15 years old, standing at my door.

  “Good morning, Officer. What can I do for you?” I asked, taking the offensive, and walking past him and into my office.

  Somewhat nervously, he responded, “I need to ask you some questions about the incident with Dr. Millberg. May I come in?” I nodded, and he came in and sat down. I gathered from his statement ‘incident’ was being used as a euphemism for ‘murder’ and found it a bit amusing.

  After a minute or so of silence, and no direction from him, I asked, “So what were those questions, Officer?”

  “Where were you Sunday night and early Monday morning?” he asked. He took out a pen and a notebook from his shirt pocket ready to record my responses.

  “I was home, alone, until I came here. I was on campus about 7:45 AM on Monday. The ambulance and police were here when I arrived.”

  He looked a bit disappointed with my response, and asked, “Can anyone vouch for where you were?”

  “No.”

  “How well did you know Dr. Millberg?” he asked next.

  “He was a colleague. I did not socialize with the man.” I figured I would state that outright. Hopefully it would shorten the number of questions, but no such luck.

  “Um, were you romantically involved with Dr. Millberg?” he asked, his face showing increasing hues of red.

  “No, I was not.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, seemingly surprised at my answer. Maybe I was the only one who hadn’t been involved with Adam so far.

  “I think I would know if I was romantically or sexually involved with someone, don’t you?” I responded, getting a little impatient. Unfortunately, that usually translated to a bit of sarcasm.

  He stammered and answered, “Yes, ma’am, but I have to ask these questions. The Chief said so. One more question here. Do you know of anyone who would want to see Dr. Millberg dead?”

  “No. And Officer Hirsch, it is the first day of class, and I have work to do here,” I hinted not so subtly.

  “Yes, ma’am. What about Ali Bough? Was she seeing Dr. Millberg recently?” he asked.

  I wasn’t sure where that came from, but answered, “Not since I’ve been here and that’s four years.”

  “Is she seeing anyone that you know of?” he asked, looking a bit more interested on a personal level. I suspected this was not one of the questions for the investigation.

  Smiling, and noting he was putting his notebook and pen away, I said, “No, I don’t believe she is.”

  “Thank you for your time,” he answered with a sigh and left.

  I was grading the pre-tests when Kim came in. She had already taught her first class and was due to teach the next in an hour. I didn’t envy her at all. I at least had until after lunch before my next class.

  She looked at me, and teased, “So is this the usual Sheridan dressing up for the first days or dressing for dinner, huh? Oh, my, you’re blushing.”

  She chuckled and I smiled, trying not to blush. She seemed to be holding up and that was a good thing. She walked back to her office to get ready. She no sooner left and Rachel was at my door.

  “Dr. Hendley, my father said you called last week,” she said, almost making the statement a question.

  “Yes, Rachel, I wanted to check in and see how you were holding up. You were pretty upset earlier in the week,” I explained. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. I’ve been trying to keep busy,” she said, her tear-filled eyes contradicting her words. “Uh, Dr. Hendley, my parents don’t know about you-know. They think I’m upset because I never knew anyone who died. You aren’t going to tell them are you?”

  “No, Rachel, I’m not. That’s not what I do,” I explained.

  “Good.”

  She hesitated and then asked if I knew who would be teaching the Learning and Memory class and the Physiological Psychology class. I told her. She thanked me and then she left. As I watched her go, I wondered who would be advising her. I also wondered how she would do with Max instead of Adam for the learning class, not to mention Doug for physio. Doug might actually expect her to have learned more about sensation and perception than she had described. I was still pondering the conversation when Brett came by.

  “Morning, Sheridan. You look very nice this morning. I like the dress. It highlights your eyes,” he said as he appraised me, smiling. He also looked a little less like work, with a light blue shirt with yellow pinstripes and navy dress pants.

  “Thank you, and good morning to you,” I answered, smiling back at him. “Did you have a good weekend?”

  “More or less. It was mostly work, getting paperwork caught up, reports and such. And you?” he countered.

  “It was good. I got stuff done around the house, got a run in, and went to a movie,” I told him. “I also had a very interesting conversation at the hair salon,” I added.

  “Must have been interesting for sure. Your expression went from friendly to confused. You have a very expressive face you know.” Brett continued, “Is this a conversation I should be privy to?”

  “Hmmm, probably,” I answered. He looked at the door and I nodded. He sat down and I shared what Julia Cramer had said, or at least the part I remembered. Brett didn’t look too surprised at the thought of these high society women involved with Adam, but he raised his eyebrows at the chef part. “Anyway, I figure it was one of those powerhouse women who decided the State Police should be involved.”

  He put his hands up indicating he was not going to confirm or deny, and I continued, “I know you can’t tell me, but that’s my conclusion.” He smiled.

  “And based on your expression, I guess you didn’t know about the chef role or dinners at his place. I’m not the only one with an expressive face.”

  He smiled again and then more seriously noted, “That probably explains why waiters and waitresses aren’t able to identify many of his partners. They didn’t eat out.”

  Realizing Kim and Adam did eat out, I clarified, “Well, it wouldn�
��t do to eat out with someone who was respected in the community and married, would it? And we are assuming there was more to the relationship than trying out recipes, you realize.”

  I wondered if Adam not only was using Kim sexually, but also to keep people focused on his relationship with her so they wouldn’t notice or look for other relationships. Unfortunately, the fact that she didn’t get the chef’s treatment could be seen as motive.

  “Touché. But it may also be how he managed to have a relationship with at least one or more students, playing house at his house,” he added.

  I nodded in agreement. I couldn’t imagine them having sex in his office and it would be difficult for him to get a hotel room without somebody noticing. On the other hand, the fact that someone was affected by this death didn’t necessarily mean Adam was having sex with them.

  “So did you figure out anything you can share?” I asked. I hoped he had found something that would clear Ali and Kim both.

  “Not much, I’m afraid. I do want to talk in general to students. Mostly to ask them to come forward if they have any information that could help in the investigation,” he said.

  “That could probably be arranged. I have some of the upperclassmen. Doug and Max do as well. I guess you will be looking to see their reactions, huh?” I asked.

  He nodded, and shifting gears asked, “So did you think about where we should go for dinner? Preferably some place your dentist friend won’t find us.”

  I smiled and suggested the Steak House or Perky’s. Both are about the same distance. Deciding on the Steak House, we discussed what time and there was a knock at the door. Brett stood up, planted a kiss on my forehead, and with minimal hesitation opened the door saying, “Thank you Dr. Hendley. We appreciate your help with this investigation.”

  It was a good thing he was once again formal since it was Max knocking, but his easy shift in demeanor did give me pause.

  Max was beside himself about the unexpected class and complained about the students. I told him the detective wanted to speak to all the classes with psychology majors. Max went off on how that would definitely not help matters. He related how one student burst into tears halfway through the class and he told her to come to see me.

  I asked who it was, but of course, Max hadn’t gotten her name. Granted, I often don’t know all my students’ names in the intro sections, but I have 30 or more students. He had less than half that in his classes, and somehow he couldn’t catch the name of one student so upset. I reminded myself that was probably a difference between researchers and practitioners.

  Although ready for crisis, and students advised or sent to see me, few were seeking out services. I managed to get the pretests scored before my afternoon research design class. Mitch stopped by briefly to tell me about a student who stopped by his office. He said she was upset and although she didn’t acknowledge a relationship, he was suspicious.

  Unfortunately, because of confidentiality issues we had no way to determine if Rachel, the girl who sought out Mitch, and the girl in Max’s class were the same girl, two girls, or even three girls. We also didn’t know if the girl or girls were distressed in general or distressed because of some perceived or real relationship beyond that of student and faculty. Mitch and I discussed the possible backlash of allowing Brett to speak briefly with classes, but couldn’t see any way to refuse. All we were able to offer was that we would be available if students needed to talk to anyone.

  After grabbing a quick sandwich at Georg’s, I was off to my next class. As with the morning class, there were a few stragglers, but these were seniors mostly, with some juniors. I recognized most of them, including Janet and Wesley. The students were not exactly dismayed their books weren’t in. I told them, no books or not, they were to write up a possible study they would want to conduct. At the groans, I reminded them the library or online databases had lots of research studies. I also pointed out I had posted some sample formats on the online setup for the course.

  I was explaining that one component of their grade would be to polish their initial proposal as we covered the principles of research design, when I noticed Brett outside the door. I motioned to him to wait a minute. I finished describing how their grade would be determined, when the papers were due, and the nature of the exams. While I did that, several of them were looking at the door. I leaned back against the desk behind me and motioned Brett inside.

  “Class, this is Detective McMann with the State Police. He asked if he could speak with you for a few minutes,” I announced as he entered.

  “Thank you, Dr. Hendley.” He turned to the students after the greeting. “I know it may be difficult for you to talk about, but I am investigating the death of Dr. Millberg,” he explained. I noticed a few of the students sat up straighter, one of the girls, Jodi, looked about to cry, and Janet and Wesley both nodded.

  He continued, “Were any of you here on campus the Sunday before last? Or last Monday?”

  Janet and Wesley raised their hands, and then a few others did the same. Only a few of them didn’t raise their hands after a few minutes, including Jodi.

  “Okay,” he said, nodding, “Did any of you happen to be at the rec center last Sunday? Not yesterday, but the previous Sunday?”

  One of the seniors, Jimmy, raised his hand a little tentatively. “I was there early Sunday though and it was fairly empty at the pool. Only my girlfriend and I swimming laps, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Brett answered. He looked around some more, but nobody else volunteered any information.

  “Okay, next question, did any of you ever see or hear Dr. Millberg have an argument with anyone? Hear anyone threaten him?” His questions now focused on Adam, Jodi began crying and Janet moved over to comfort her. Courtney started to tear up as well and I remembered she had been upset at the memorial. With Jodi’s crying, everyone was becoming anxious. Brett was making notes and probably coming up with a lot of questions as he watched them. I cleared my throat, and looked at him. I sure hoped he was through.

  “Sorry, folks. If anyone thinks of anything that might be helpful to the investigation, please contact me. My email is bmcmann at vasp dot net.” He turned and left. The class was silent and no one even moved for what seemed like a long time, likely about a minute.

  “Okay, before you all leave, please remember that Dr. Pilsner and I are available if you need to talk about this situation. It is a very disturbing situation for us all. Hopefully, Detective McMann and the Cold Creek police will wrap this up very soon, and everything can get back to normal,” I offered. The students filed out, still pretty quiet, and I finally exhaled.

  Brett was waiting at my office and shook his head. “Sorry, Sheridan. I don’t take pleasure in intimidating or upsetting your students.” As I entered my office, I motioned him inside and he closed the door.

  Sighing, he asked, “So what is the female student count up to now?” He shook his head and looked toward the window.

  “Judging from their reactions, at least three are upset by this, but only one has actually reported any kind of sexual behavior,” I answered. I added, “No telling how many more may have been involved. Mitch had one student come see him too. To keep confidentiality, we aren’t using names so…” I shrugged my shoulders to make my point.

  “He may only have been inappropriate with one student, after all. Many of the female students get crushes on faculty, and he was definitely a prime candidate. Honestly, as much as I think of Adam as a scumbag, I would have trouble thinking he was simultaneously seeing multiple students, faculty, staff, and high society.”

  I had to get some perspective and yes, Adam could have been involved with any number of people over the past several years. He certainly had enough ex-wives, but it was unlikely that he was in that many relationships over the past three months. At least that was my conclusion, and I was not going to let my imagination get the better of my good sense. There were, after all, only so many hours in a day and he did manage to hold down a job. Brett lef
t with the promise to come by later to go for dinner, and I went back over everything I needed for the afternoon seminar and for Tuesday’s classes.

  The afternoon seminar went by without a hitch. Wesley and Janet were in that class. Class dismissed, I asked Janet to hang back, and asked her if Jodi was okay. She nodded and shrugged her shoulders. I also asked about Courtney and she indicated she thought Courtney’s upset was because her brother had died this summer. The memorial had brought all that back.

  I reminded Janet that Mitch and I were available, as was the staff at the Student Counseling Center. She nodded and we walked out together. She turned toward the door and I went back to my office. Janet was pretty responsible. I was sure she would talk to Jodi and Courtney about getting some support. And at least there was some reason other than a relationship with Adam behind Courtney’s upset.

  Back in my office, Terra called and asked when she could schedule an appointment for me to meet with Jim. She said she had no idea what it was about, and I groaned. Whenever Jim wanted a meeting with me, it usually meant I was going to have something new to do. Groaning, I told her to schedule it between my Tuesday classes. I hung up, knowing I was not the only one shaking my head. Terra would be shaking hers, too. Hopefully, she would get a hint of what was up before then so I could try to head him off at the pass.

  I put away the stuff from today, finished putting together the materials for both classes tomorrow, and checked my email. I had multiple listserv emails and emails from all levels of administration on the first day of classes. These I could delete easily. I had an email from my sister asking me what I knew about the murder and ‘my detective’ as of today. That one would wait. One from Wayne, asking how I was doing, quickly deleted.

  One from my ex which I read. He wanted to know which month I would stop receiving spousal support. I advised him he stopped paying me support in June. It had been paid through an automated system and apparently he didn’t realize it ended. Money management was not his strength. I suspected the new ex was hitting him up for spousal support now. That thought made me smile. I also had lots of emails from book publishers, journal publishers, and various department stores. Sad to have junk mail on the internet. Deleted.