by Ella White
“If you insist.” Rachel crossed her arms with a huff.
“Yes, this is Vickie Matheson. May I speak with Chief Miles?”
Rachel picked some lint off her scarf as she sat, waiting for her mother to finish her call. Meanwhile, Vickie was quickly connected to Susan’s line.
“Hello, Dr. Matheson,” the chief answered.
“Hello Su—I’m sorry, Chief Miles.” Vickie wanted to show proper respect for Susan’s position of authority. “Remember that list Lilli put in my purse yesterday? My daughter did some research on it.”
“Miss Matheson is very resourceful,” Susan complimented. “What did she find?”
“Everyone on the list is a teaching assistant at the nearby college,” Vickie reported. “They’re all in a leadership class there too. I was thinking I could speak to the class and see if they know anything about Lilli’s murder?”
“That might tip off the killer, you know.” Susan’s tone had not changed, so Vickie wasn’t sure if she was angry at the suggestion or not.
“I thought of that, but it could also help us find a lead,” Vickie debated. “I have connections at the college, remember? I might be the only one who can get some information without it seeming too suspicious, like a police interrogation might right now.”
Chief Miles didn’t respond for several seconds. Vickie could imagine Susan’s brain processing this idea void of any expression on her face.
Eventually she replied. “Okay. It’s a good idea. Just promise me one thing?”
“What is it?”
“Whoever killed Lilli knows you were there. Word travels much too quickly in this little town,” Susan continued. “Whoever killed Lilli might come after you too.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful,” responded, smiling. “I appreciate the concern though.”
“Don’t go anywhere alone. Always have someone with you.”
“I will.”
“And keep me updated.”
“Absolutely.”
Vickie bid Susan goodbye before promptly hanging up and dialing the college’s number.
Chapter 3
The phone rang multiple times, and Vickie hoped she was not going to be taken to an answering machine. She wanted to get to the college as soon as possible.
Thankfully, the answering machine never came into play.
“Thank you for calling Carriage Cove Community College. This is Alexis. How may I help you?”
“Hello, Alexis. My name is Victoria Matheson,” she stated, impressed by the girl’s polite manner. “May I speak to President Charles Rutledge?”
“Let me see if he is available. One moment.” Vickie listened to some annoying elevator music while she waited for Alexis. “Yes, he’s in his office. I’ll transfer you over.”
“Thank you, Alexis.”
Vickie waited a few more seconds before a familiar hoarse voice answered. “Vickie! So happy to hear from you!”
“Hello, Charles,” she greeted. “How have you been?”
“Very well, everything considered,” Charles replied. “I’m surprised to hear from you. We’ve really missed you teaching here.”
“Surely your current literature professor is doing just fine?”
“Oh she is, but it’s not the same as when you were here.”
“Well, it’s good to hear I’ve been missed.” Vickie cleared her throat. “But Charles, I’m not just calling to chat. I need to ask a favor.”
She could almost hear him smiling. “No sooner said than done, as I think the kids say it. What do you need?”
“I understand the college has a leadership course for teaching assistants?”
“That’s right. We did a study and found that many of the teaching assistants don’t feel prepared for the position, so we decided to create this new class to help them.”
“That’s a good idea. I was wondering if you would let me speak in front of the class for a little bit. I’m looking for some information.”
“What kind of information?” Charles sounded curious.
“Well, have you heard about Lilli Graves?”
“She’s one of the teaching assistants. Why?”
Vickie paused. “I’m sorry I have to tell you this, but Lilli… Lilli’s been murdered.”
She waited, as there was a long silence after she delivered the news.
“You’re… You’re sure? That it was really Lilli, I mean?”
“I’m sure. I was there when it happened,” she explained. “I’m helping Chief Miles on the case, and I was thinking that some of the students might know something about why she was killed and who might have killed her.”
“Chief Miles is actually letting you help?” The surprise was evident in his voice, but only for a moment. “Well, I know what a great sleuth you are… theoretically speaking. You could predict the ending of any book you read.”
“Yes, and now I’m trying to figure out this mystery, and I think the other students might know something. May I speak with them?”
“I think we can arrange something,” Charles replied. “When would you like to do it?”
“Today, if possible.”
“The class isn’t until two today. That’s the best time for all the students,” Charles explained. “Let me give Charlotte a call and let her know. She’s the professor for the class. I’m sure she won’t have a problem with it.”
“Thanks, Charles. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course, Vickie. I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
It didn’t take long for Charles to get everything arranged, and Vickie soon found herself back at the college where she had taught for decades. It was just a little before 2 p.m. when she drove to the campus. As she meandered to the classroom, Vickie glanced around at the grounds.
The buildings of the college were laid out like a rectangle with a large green quad in the middle. A sidewalk went along the perimeter of the lawn, along with a few strips of brick separating the lawn into further rectangles. It reminded her of an ancient castle courtyard. Trees had been planted in multiple locations, presumably in a certain design, but time and the wind had taken over and planted new trees in other places as well. Beneath the trees and around each building were flowers, both wild and ornamental. Their fragrance caused Vickie to recall those days when she would have her lunch on a picnic blanket on the soft grass and bask in the sun.
Other than color, most of the buildings were similar in appearance. They were two stories tall with the exception of the one at the far end of the yard, which was three stories with more architectural details. It almost looked like a capital building.
Vickie felt her feet move automatically. Although she had retired from teaching a while ago, she still walked to her old classroom as if on autopilot. It took her no time at all to head up the stairs to room 205 of the English and literature building. Memories of her teaching days flooded her mind – over there she met with her first teaching assistant; at this corner she learned she got tenure; and in that room she gave the presentation for her thesis.
It was through some strange serendipity that the room where the leadership class was located also happened to be the same classroom she taught in every semester. Many teachers changed rooms from term to term, but she was somehow fortunate enough to always be assigned the same room. It was a large enough room to fit about thirty students, although she could recall a few semesters when her course was overcrowded and some unlucky students had to stand or sit on the floor. This had been a rare occasion however.
She peeked into the classroom and saw that it was much the same as it had been when she left. Since she was often assigned the same room, Vickie had taken up decorating the place with various posters and photographs. Seeing as she taught literature, she tried to keep her decorations to that theme, both as an expression of her passion for stories as a teaching aid for the students. When she retired, Vickie removed them all with the exception of one, a large decorated banner describing “The Twelve Steps of th
e Hero’s Journey” by Joseph Campbell. She encouraged all her students to try to match the novels they read to the twelve steps, and if the novels didn’t fit, they were to try to find reasons why not. Her old friend Charles loved it and wanted to keep it, so Vickie had given it to him.
Now the classroom was relatively bare other than the banner. Vickie figured this was likely because it was now used for various subjects, if the barely erased math equations on the whiteboard indicated anything. The other thing that was different was the number of students. Vickie had grown accustomed to her classroom being full to bursting, but now there were maybe twelve students sitting at the desks. She made a mental note that the number of students in the class was more than the number on the list. Most of them were reading through textbooks or notes, and she could imagine they were either studying for an exam or studying in preparation for teaching a lesson. Class must not have begun yet, since no one was focused on the front of the room where the professor stood.
Professor Waymire, or Charlotte as Charles had called her, was a relatively young woman, possibly somewhere in her thirties. She had long brown hair with apparently natural curls, and she wore a light blue business dress suit. Charles had mentioned she had been a double major of finance and political science, which is probably why she was chosen to be the teacher for a leadership course.
As Vickie entered the room, Charlotte turned to her and smiled, walking up to the older woman with her hand extended.
“Hello, you must be Professor Matheson?”
Vickie took her hand and shook it. “Just call me Vickie. I haven’t been a professor in quite some time.”
“President Rutledge explained the whole thing to me,” Charlotte informed her. “Would you like to speak with the class at the beginning or end?”
“I don’t want to interrupt your lecture, so if I can have the last ten minutes or so that would be great.”
“No problem. Sorry to make you wait. You can take any available seat you want.”
It was an interesting class to say the least. Charlotte went over team building skills, time management, and communication skills that would help the students get their point across without seeming too bossy. Most of the students just took notes, although there were a few that raised their hands to ask questions.
It would have been nice to have a course like this when I was younger, Vickie thought as she watched the class.
“And remember, business presentations begin next week. George and Carrie, you both will be first, so please be ready.”
There was a small grumble from two of the students.
“Now, there’s ten minutes of class left,” Professor Waymire announced. “I’m sure you have all noticed we’ve had a guest waiting patiently at the back of the room. I present to you Victoria Matheson, former Professor of Literature, who would like to speak with you on behalf of the Carriage Cove Police Department. Vickie?”
Vickie stood and walked up to the front of the class. Even though she had been a teacher for decades, she found herself feeling a little nervous being in front of a class again. Perhaps it was because she wasn’t actually teaching literature, or perhaps it was because she was out of practice. Either way, she forced herself to smile at the class.
“Hello, everyone.”
“Hello, Professor Matheson!” the students responded in unison.
“Please, call me Vickie or Dr. Matheson, since I’m not a professor anymore,” she explained. “So I’m sure you’re all expecting me to talk about something regarding your leadership course here – which I think is wonderful, by the way – but I’m actually here to deliver bad news.”
She paused for a moment, giving the students a chance to turn their full attention to her. Once she was sure they weren’t distracted, she took a deep breath.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed your fellow student Lilli Graves is not here today.” She glanced around and saw a bunch of nods. It was a small enough class that all the students knew each other. “Well, it pains me to say this, but she was killed yesterday morning in Eugene.”
There was a chorus of gasps around the room, and many of the students began whispering amongst themselves. Vickie couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their sorrowful and surprised expressions said enough. A few students stared at their textbooks, as if they were the only things that made sense in the world. A few of the girls started to tear up, and Vickie noticed one girl with wavy red hair digging a knuckle into the corner of her eye.
“I know this is a surprise, and I hate to drop this on you so suddenly, but the fact of the matter is, we need your help,” Vickie explained, keeping her tone as warm and comforting as possible. “The police and I are working together to try to figure out who is responsible for this. If any of you have any information, anything at all, please contact me and let me know. Even if it seems trivial, any small bit of information could mean the difference between solving this mystery and not.”
A few of the students looked at each other, but ultimately they all nodded or gave other motions of agreement.
“In addition to that, I also want to invite you to come to the Sip and Read Café to study .” The students seemed to perk up at this. “I know being a teaching assistant can be stressful, and I want to help with that as well. If you call ahead of time, I can reserve several tables during quiet times and even after normal hours, if it would help you. All you need to do is call.”
There was another round of nods before Charlotte announced that class was dismissed. Slowly the students began to file out of the room. The young woman with the wavy red hair almost ran out of the room. A few of the students asked for the café’s phone number, which Vickie gladly gave. Soon the classroom was empty except for Vickie, Charlotte and one young woman with blonde hair. She kept to the back of the room, waiting for everyone else to leave before walking up to Vickie.
“Professor… Um, Dr. Matheson?” she murmured, meekly approaching the front.
Vickie turned to her and grinned. “Yes?”
“You said we should talk to you about Lilli?”
“Yes, I did. Do you know anything?”
The student bit her lip and glanced towards the classroom door. Seeing the student’s discomfort, Charlotte walked over and closed it, making sure no one could hear them converse.
“Is everything all right, Courtney?” the professor asked.
With the door closed, Courtney seemed more relaxed. “You know all the TAs know each other. We study together, practice together, all that good stuff?”
“Yes, I guessed you all were close,” Vickie answered.
“Well, some of us are closer than others,” Courtney continued. “Lilli was really close friends with Mary. She’s the biology TA. They did everything together until recently.”
“Until recently?” Vickie cocked her head to the side. “What changed?”
“I don’t know exactly what happened, but they had a falling out about two weeks ago.” She bit her lip again as she tried to find the right words. “It must have been huge to ruin their friendship though. They’ve known each other since high school. I bet if anyone knows what was going on with Lilli, Mary would know.”
Vickie pulled out the list of students Lilli had stowed in her purse. Sure enough, the name Mary was on it. “That wouldn’t be Mary Gillan, would it?”
“Yeah, that’s her.”
“What does she look like?”
“She’s got red hair, always in a side-part,” Courtney described. “Kind of tall too. She always sits in the front row here.”
Courtney pointed to the seat where the girl who had been knuckling her eye had been, and Vickie filed away this information for later.
“I’ll go have a chat with Mary when I get the chance,” Vickie confirmed. She reached out to shake the young woman’s hand. “Thank you, Courtney.”
“I hope it helps.”
“Every little bit helps.”
Courtney left, leaving Vickie and Charlotte alone in the classroom. Cha
rlotte clicked her tongue.
“Lilli was such a good student,” she mused. “A little flaky, but a good student.”
“She was a bit like that at the café too,” Vickie agreed. “I feel really bad about all this.”
“Me too.” Charlotte’s tone was unmistakably depressed. “I wish there had been a way to prevent this.”
“So do I, but there’s no use regretting the past.” Vickie gave the professor a firm nod. “We need to find out who did this and bring them to justice.”
Charlotte smiled widely at her determination. “I can see why all the students and teachers liked you so much.”
Chapter 4
Susan scanned the Sip and Read Café with great interest as she entered; the bell ringing above the doorway. She had never visited Vickie’s café before, and she had to admit she could understand why it was so popular. With a wonderful selection of books to read or buy, a variety of beverages, and many breakfast pastries to choose from, it was easy to see the draw for so many people of various ages and backgrounds. The café had a cozy atmosphere to it as well, with its cushioned chairs at the tables and beanbag chairs in a few corners.
“If it wasn’t against regulation, I’d invest in some of those bean bags for the precinct,” she joked as she approached the counter.
“Good afternoon, chief,” Vickie chuckled. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”
“You said you had some information?” Chief Miles inquired.
“I do, but let’s not talk about it here.” Vickie guided her to the back of the shop. “We’ll have better privacy in my office. Follow me.”
Susan had been expecting Vickie’s office to be a bit of a scattered mess, as she often believed to be true of literature teachers. There was always a sense of the theoretical and abstract, and analyzing literature was something Chief Miles had never understood while she was in school. She was more into the hard, tactile facts of science and math. This was part of the reason she went into law enforcement. There were cold, hard facts involved in bringing a criminal to justice. The only soft aspects of the job involved the variety of motives of the criminals and the various backgrounds of the victims and witnesses.
