* * * * * * * *
As we worked on finishing everything we needed to do at the Michaels house, Athena stood at the kitchen window at the Brackett home – the same window where Kathy had stood when she witnessed Jody Yule’s arrival. Kathy’s house was obsessively clean, which is actually a contrast from the organized disarray of the Michaels house. This is not to say that Athena did not keep a clean house; she and Hank just tended to place things where they would be convenient as opposed to where society might think they belonged. The aforementioned home gym room was only a piece of the organization that went into that house where everything had its place.
Kathy walked up behind Athena having changed to workout clothes. Athena never turned or even acknowledged Kathy’s presence.
“I was going to work out some,” she said gently to her friend. “It helps to pass the time and might even take your mind off of what’s going on for a bit. You want to come?”
“Everything he said,” Athena replied, ignoring the question, “everything he did. Was everything nothing but a lie? Was she the only one?”
Kathy was taken aback by the question as the only Athena she had ever known was sweet and calm and never raised her voice to anyone for anything. This angry Athena was someone completely new to her. All she could do was shrug.
“If I had kept that book,” Athena mused, “I could have seen how many women’s numbers he had, track them down, and ask them why they did this to me.”
“Let’s not be irrational,” Kathy told her in a vain effort to calm her down.
“Irrational?” Athena said, whirling on her friend. Kathy took a step or two backwards at the sudden turn. “Who are you to tell me about irrational? What do you know about what I’m going through? Have you ever lost a husband? I don’t think–”
“Yes, I have,” Kathy interrupted, clearly having taken offense to Athena’s assumption over her past. “I came here to get away from all that.”
“I’m sorry,” Athena stuttered sheepishly, not having expected that reaction. It’s possible she didn’t know Kathy as well as she thought, and the surprise of Kathy’s revelation seemed to bring her back to herself. “I didn’t mean…”
“It’s ok,” Kathy said. “I felt the same way.”
Athena tried to respond, but the words failed her. The world started to spin around her again with her anger shattered by her friend’s own broken history, and the grief of her situation fell on her like a storm. Her eyes brimmed with tears again, and Kathy held out her arms. Athena willingly allowed her friend to comfort her as she wailed. She didn’t know how much time passed as Kathy held her shuddering body and her tears drenched Kathy’s shirt, but Kathy didn’t seem to mind at all. She only continued to stroke Athena’s hair and tell her it was going to be ok.
“All I wanted was the fairy tale,” Athena whimpered at some in all of this.
“Me too,” Kathy comforted.
CHAPTER THREE
The University Under Siege
As you may well have guessed, there was more to the secrets of Hank Michaels than just the unfortunate Jody Yule. At Bluffs University, once the word broke of the death of him and his illegitimate love interest, information about just how many people might have been involved with him spread faster than a clever metaphor, and the internal investigations over how all this could have gone on under the administration’s noses continued long after my case was solved. Fingers were pointed, policies were rewritten, and even a few teachers who knew something about what he was doing were forced to resign over it.
You see, Bluffs University was the pride and joy of the town and its primary source of income. The architecture was new but in a classic style with a full range of classes across the expansive campus complete with modern dorms, a library which doubled as the town library, top notch laboratories equipped to handle any scientific discipline, a complete music department with dozens of individual practice rooms, larger group rehearsal spaces, and two performance spaces, one of which was a fully equipped theater used also by the drama department for its plays and musicals. The landscape was always well-manicured and maintained to the point that most pictures of Bluffs focused on either the campus or the mountains behind it. All of this made the University one of the few premier colleges in this area of Colorado, and the target of those who were close so that they could stay close to home. It also made the administration fiercely protective of its reputation and something like this definitely didn’t sit well with them.
Across the campus, there were a variety of conversations centering around the death of Professor Michaels and those who had been involved with him at one time or another, all of which the administration did their best to prevent from leaking to the surrounding media outlets. Bluffs did have a local newspaper, but the staff there understood the vital nature of the university, and so they were quite unwilling to report on anything that might damage its image. For the local campus conversations, I’ll only include the relevant ones that I heard about here.
The first was between a couple of twenty-year old kids in love by the names of Scott Owen and Jenny Thurman who were no different from any other college sophomores. Scott was here for a law degree and was happy to feel like he was out on his own for the first time. Jenny wanted to stay close to home as she sorted out what she wanted to do. She had settled on a sociology degree and was looking forward to life of helping people. The two found each other and were extraordinarily happy in their relationship.
On this morning, Scott was running across the lawns toward Jenny to talk about his thoughts over what had happened and to see what she thought. She was walking with a friend of hers at the time, so he wasn’t sure if she had heard about it or not. He had no worries about the news since neither of them knew Jody nor did either of them have Professor Michaels as a teacher.
“Hey, there you are,” he said as he reached her. She waved good-bye to her friend and gave him her attention. “Did you hear about Professor Michaels?”
“Hear what?” she asked with the sort of disinterested curiosity one might have for a stranger.
“You know he got whacked last night with Jody Yule in his house,” he asked with probably too much enthusiasm. “The board of regents is pissed.”
The color drained from Jenny’s face, and she looked like she was going to vomit. She stared at the ground in shock, searching for a way to respond to the news. “I heard something about his class being suspended,” she said in a hollow voice, “but they never told us why. I really didn’t pay attention. Oh, my God.”
“I wonder if there’ll be an investigation,” he continued, ignoring her sudden pallor. “That’s be cool, huh? Get everyone in a courtroom or something. I wonder if they’ll let the law students ask any questions. I’d love to get in on that.”
“You don’t think they’ll…” Jenny started. She looked away from him, and he finally noticed how disturbed she looked.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked innocently. He didn’t think he had crossed a line. Jenny had never mentioned Professor Michaels before, so he could not sort out what about this would have disturbed her to this extent. He knew she tended to be a little overly empathetic, and while she often felt for people in difficult situations, it was never to this degree. She shook her head, avoiding his inquiry, tears coming to her eyes.
“I just … can’t believe it,” she said through a broken voice.
“What?” he asked. He looked at her, and she looked like she was going to break down.
“Oh, God,” she muttered. He didn’t appreciate where this was going.
“What, did you like him or something?” he asked, anger involuntarily coming through. He knew he had a bit of an temper on him, and this was not necessarily the best time for it. She shook her head again, tears running down her face. The thought hit him, but he could hardly believe the idea of it. Jenny just didn’t seem the type, so maybe she wasn’t who he thought she was.
“You didn’t…” he ventured disbelievingly.
Jenny knew what he was saying, and she couldn’t deny it. At the same time, she couldn’t say it either. Scott understood what was unspoken, however, and he erupted.
“When the hell did this happen?” he bellowed.
“Scott, it’s nothing,” she assured him.
“Like hell it is,” he carried on. “How long has this been going on?”
Jenny couldn’t hold her composure any longer . She turned and walked away from him.
“Nothing happened,” she said.
“Then why are you acting this way?” he asked following her. She walked quickly to get away from him. He called out after her. “Jenny!”
She ran across the campus. He chased after her regretting his outburst instantly, but she still did not slow down. They weaved in between student and teachers, some of which only shook their heads, knowing young love, while others said to stop running. He finally caught up to her and touched her arm. She stopped but didn’t turn to him.
“Come on,” Scott said. “Don’t leave it like this.” She didn’t run, but she still didn’t turn around. “Come on,” he insisted, “how long have we been together?”
“Six weeks,” she said angrily.
“See?” he said, “you can trust me. Talk to me.” He pulled her closer, turning her around finally. She looked at him with tear-streaked eyes that also showed her being upset at his reaction.
“Scott, that could have been me,” she explained.
“So did you…” he asked.
“No!” she interrupted. She sighed and turned away from him. “It was, like, forever ago. At the beginning of this semester, Professor Michaels was very sweet to me. He took me out and even invited me to his house.”
“But you didn’t–” he began, but she stopped him with a angry look. “Hey, it’s not illegal or anything. At least, I don’t think it is. It isn’t, right?” He looked at her with a smile. She rolled her eyes.
“Gimme a break,” she replied. “No, we fooled around. That’s it. It bugged me, so I never saw him outside of school again.” She looked away again. “He called me a few times, but I guess he eventually gave up. If I had kept seeing him, that would have been me instead of Jody.”
Scott looked shell-shocked. When Jenny leaned back into him, he couldn’t help but hold her. Whatever she had done before, he had developed some strong feelings for her, and what she did before they started going out really didn’t matter to him. They were young and crazy after all, and he sure didn’t want her inquiring into what he did over the summer.
“Do you hate me?” she asked. Feeling her close to him, he couldn’t help but let it all go.
“No, of course I don’t hate you,” he said honestly. He relaxed his hold and she leaned back, looking into his eyes. “We’ll be ok.” She nodded with a smile and kissed him.
Elsewhere on the campus, two other students, Ashley Carter and Harriet Graham, walked together like a yin and yang pair with full backpacks slung over their right shoulders. Ashley was a petite blonde with short hair and a spring in her step with a smile to match. Harriet, by contrast, had long, dark, curly hair, and dressed in loose, dark pants and shirt.
“And I keep making Chris stay over because without him, I just don’t feel safe. I hate living there alone,” Ashley said rapidly in a single breath. Her voice rattled the words out very smoothly in her high-pitched voice.
“I want to get in the dorms,” Harriet said considerably slower and with a voice timbre closer to a normal range, “but my mom just don’t trust me. I’d be here for you, Ashley.”
“What is it going to take, anyway?” Ashley asked.
“An act of God?” Harriet joked, and even laughed alone at her own joke before she shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Hey, there’s Chris,” Ashley said suddenly, pausing in her steps. She wave to him and calls out, “Chris!”
Chris Williams looked to be a stereotypical stoner type with longer hair, baggy clothing and a slump to his walk with his hands digging as far into his pockets as they would go. He gave her a “too cool for words” nod. Harriet rolled her eyes.
“Hey, what do you think about Professor Michaels getting killed last night?” Harriet asked to bring her back from checking out Chris.
“Freaks me out, of course,” Ashley said, her voice turning serious. “That’s why I’m glad Chris stays over.”
“You took his class, right? Last year?”
Ashley shrugs and starts walking again, but this time, her step did not have as much spring in it.
“Did you ever…” Harriet began, unwilling to actually say the whole question or give up the subject. “You know…”
“Did I ever tell you about when Chris took a cold shower?” Ashley asked, trying to change that subject, still without looking at Harriet. Her shaky voice betrayed extreme discomfort. “Oh my God, it was so funny.”
“Ashley…” Harriet said touching her friend’s shoulder and stopping her pace in an attempt to bring her back to what Harriet wanted to talk about.
“Harriet, what happened happened,” Ashley admitted with more than a little annoyance, “and I would rather move on. I’m not proud of it. Are you?”
“Well, that is how I passed psychology last semester,” Harriet noted with a smile. “I came to him asking for help, and I came for him to get it. It was fun for a few weeks, anyway.”
“A few weeks?” Ashley said in astonishment.
“It was a good summer vacation. What can I say? He even posed for me a few times. I ever show you the pictures I drew?”
“That’s ok,” Ashley replied shaking her head and waving off the offer as she walked onward.
“Well, they’re at home,” Harriet continued catching up to her. “Anyway, it all stopped when the new semester started.”
“You or him?”
“Me. That old guy was a horndog. He probably just moved on to someone else.” They reached the steps to their building and climbed them side by side.
“So I hear you’re seeing Brandon Earstwhile,” Ashley said in attempt to bring the mood back up. “How’s he?”
“Brandon?” Harriet said with a wide, mischievous grin. “He’s the reason mom don’t trust me.” They laughed as they disappeared into the throng of students entering the fine arts building.
Finally, there was the conversation between a pair of teachers. Darla Hemmingway was in her late twenties with auburn hair tied back in a bun tight against her head and always dressed smartly with a very smug expression. Today, she wore a purple jacket and skirt that fit her form well, and she clearly was very comfortable in heels as she walked alongside Sherry Duke. Sherry, in contrast to Darla, was in her thirties with wild, untamable brown hair and dressed in loose clothing and tennis shoes, often toeing the lower end of the line of the university’s dress code for teachers.
“With a student!” Darla exclaimed. “It’s intolerable!”
“Oh, get over it,” Sherry said. “I’ve seen you look his way a time or two.”
“That is completely different, and you know it. Who’s going to take over his classes? Hm? No one knows psychology like that man did.”
“He sure understood the practical application of it.”
“If you say, ‘Knowing what to say to whom and when,’ I’ll report you too,” Darla warned.
“Well,” Sherry said with a smile, “I won’t say it then.”
“Oh, dear God, not you too,” Darla said, rolling her eyes.
“Well, you know,” Sherry shrugged, “I was having a lonely moment without Bob around.”
“You get those a lot, I hear,” Darla scowled.
“Well, I wouldn’t want his side of the bed to get cold,” Sherry replied unapologetically. “You don’t suppose they’ll shut down the school or anything over this, do you?”
“Why would they do that?” Darla asked, clearly bored with the discussion.
“Well, someone killed a teacher and his student,” Sherry said. “Won’t there be an inquest or something?”
“Maybe,” Darla noted, “but it’s not worth shutting down the school. He wasn’t worth much of anything, if you ask me.”
“I like my time with him,” Sherry mused.
“Didn’t need to hear that,” Darla sighed.
“Don’t worry, Darla,” Sherry said, “I know always preferred the younger meat.”
“You’ve got one sick mind, Sherry,” Darla told her as they entered the administration building.
Of course, it goes without saying that the topic of Professor Michaels and his legion of women made up the primary topic of the day though few would actually admit to being with him. I had my own list, but someone like him doesn’t write down every person he has ever been with, so I presumed this list was simply the ones he liked enough to want to see again rather than the actual one night stands that he simply forgot about as soon as they left the room, if not before. Later that day, Darla Hemmingway and Sherry Duke found themselves in the lounge with two other teachers during their lunch periods, Anna Brinkley and Colette Porter. Their dress fell somewhere between the extremes of Darla and Sherry with simple trouser-blouse combinations.
Colette was only in her thirties, but her life had not been kind to her and her face showed more wear than someone of her age should have. Her one and only husband had beat her into submission somewhere on the east coast, and she conducted the entire divorce through a lawyer with no contact with her ex-husband. She moved to Colorado with whatever she had on her and started a new life away from everything she had before. She rarely said more than that about her former life, and everyone respected that.
Anna, by contrast, was from Bluffs, and only in her late twenties, she was very idealistic and just hadn’t met the right guy yet. She was the type that looked younger than her age, and seemed to be the prime sort or target for people like Hank who loved his pretty girls. Of course, the cross hanging from Anna’s neck and her being the head of the campus Christian organization might have put a damper on those possibilities, though Darla had known more than a few wild children to be in that group.
Vengeance Page 4
