Scott’s emotions suddenly got the best of him. “It’s just so sad that she’s gone. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to truly replace her.”
He had been very candid with me, but his answers weren’t terribly insightful. What I needed right then was a lead, and he clearly didn’t have one. That didn’t exactly surprise me. Managers spent so much of their time juggling the needs of customers, employees, and the business. They were too busy putting out fires to notice the subtle shifts in a single employee’s personality or mood. The kind of people that might notice that were ironically the same people who I had just heard gossiping about getting so drunk last weekend.
I thanked Scott for his time then chatted up some of Jennifer’s student-coworkers to see if they knew something Scott didn’t. Unfortunately, I came up empty-handed. After talking with four different people, none had a single bad to say about her, nor had they noticed anything odd about her recent behavior. Normally, that was a good thing. In this case, it didn’t help me in the least.
I left the dining hall feeling particularly frustrated. How could I not? I had just spent an hour of my life getting nowhere. The only truly interesting thing I had learned was that Jennifer’s workplace was the one area of her life where drama had not permeated. I couldn’t figure out if that was because she was really good at hiding her depression or because she really didn’t mind working at the dining hall. Either way, it was time for me to move on.
Chapter Ten
I had gotten nowhere at Jennifer’s workplace, but perhaps I would have better luck digging into the academic side of her life. I prayed that a few trips to the classroom would prove more fertile ground to turn up a lead.
None of the first four professors that I talked to gave me any new information. While that was discouraging, I reminded myself that it wasn’t terribly uncommon to hit dead ends. I just wasn’t used to hitting this many in rapid succession.
To be fair, those professors all taught classes that were well outside of Jennifer’s field of interest. She was only taking those classes because they were part of her core curriculum. Besides, if years of investigating had taught me anything, it was that sometimes it took a dozen interviews before one truly paid off. But if that one interview produced a lead that led to solving the case, it made all of the legwork worthwhile.
If I had anything to be hopeful about, it was that I still had one professor left to question. Not just any professor, mind you. I had purposefully saved this one for last because he had been her acting teacher. You see, being onstage had been Jennifer’s passion. Her lifelong desire was to be an actress.
In addition to teaching acting, Professor Paul Blanton was also the director of the theater department’s next stage play that was to be put on next semester. Jennifer had desperately wanted the lead role in the production.
I wasn’t in the theater department for long before some drama unfolded. As I entered the lobby of Gabbart Hall, a couple was fighting right in front of me. It wasn’t until I took a closer look that I noticed the script on the table next to them. It suddenly occurred to me that they were just reciting lines. Talk about some good acting. They both had me fooled.
I left the actors to their rehearsing and headed down the hall where the professor was holding office hours. Blanton’s office was a complete mess. There were stacks of books and papers everywhere. The professor himself looked old enough to have originally coined the phrase “tenure.”
Paul had a head of messy, white, stringy hair. He wore a tweed jacket with a turtleneck underneath. A pair of corduroy pants hung loosely over his thin frame. He fit the professor mold so well that I wasn’t surprised that there were patches sewn onto the elbows of his old, tweed jacket.
The one thing that surprised me about the professor was the fact that his voice in no way matched his thin figure. Blanton had the booming voice of a former actor who had learned to harness the full sonic power of his diaphragm. Paul spoke with authority and a stuffy old-school appreciation for the craft of acting that flew in direct contrast to the “get famous quick” mindset that so many of his students operated with.
The professor looked surprised to see a nonstudent like me standing in his doorway, but he was willing to give me a few minutes of his time as long as I promised not to waste them. Since Blanton had put me under the gun, I got straight to the point with him.
“I understand that Jennifer Richardson was up for the lead role in The Grand Tragedy of Love,” I said.
The Grand Tragedy of Love was the stage play that the department was putting on. It was an emotionally taxing drama. A story about what happened when love was stretched to the limit. While I personally preferred lighthearted comedies, I could understand why an aspiring actress would relish the opportunity to land a part in this production. This play was a great platform for an aspiring thespian to show their range.
“Yes. It was a tight battle to cast the lead. Angela Meyers ended up narrowly winning out,” Professor Blanton said.
“Being beaten out like that must have left Jennifer pretty broken up.”
Blanton nodded. “It did.”
“How upset was she exactly?” I asked.
“Not upset enough to commit suicide over,” Blanton replied.
What a curious reply, mostly because he had decided to answer a question that I hadn’t even asked him. Clearly, he must have known that I had been working my way up to that question, but I couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t waited for me to actually ask it first. The only thing I could think of was that Jennifer had been more devastated by not landing the lead role than the professor was letting on.
Paul clearly hoped that his answer would quiet my doubts, but it ended up spurring me on instead.
“How can you be so sure of that?” I asked.
“Don’t get me wrong, she did not take the news well at first, but she also didn’t let it break her. If anything, as she started settling into the role of being the understudy, she seemed resolved to prove to me that I had made the wrong choice by picking Angela over her.”
“You say that, but we’re talking about an aspiring actress here. Someone who wanted to pretend she was someone else for a living. So maybe this resolve you saw on her face was really just an act, designed to cover up how depressed she truly was.”
Professor Blanton scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
I was confused. “What’s so ridiculous about what I said?”
“If Jennifer was that great of an actress, I would have cast her in the lead role in the first place.”
“Are you saying she wasn’t that great of an actress?”
The professor looked like he regretted criticizing a dead woman’s acting ability so harshly. He attempted to roll back his previous statement.
“Jennifer had the potential to one day be a fine actress, but at the time of her death, she was still very much a student. As her professor, it was apparent that there was plenty of room for improvement.”
I played devil’s advocate. “Maybe. Or perhaps she surprised you.”
Another condescending expression crept across the professor’s face. “I doubt it.”
That line of questioning was getting me nowhere. Luckily, there were a number of other questions that I wanted to ask. “How soon before her death was she passed up for the lead?”
“A couple of weeks.”
“So you truly believe that she was settling in to being Angela’s understudy?”
Paul nodded. “I do. Like I said, by the second week, any hurt she was experiencing seemed to have been replaced by resolve.”
I had let the professor say his piece, but one part of his story just didn’t sit right with me. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t help but go back to the same point. “Don’t get me wrong, you could be right, but I just find that hard to believe, especially given what happened to Jennifer. The signs all seem to be pointing to this resolve of hers just being an act.”
Professor Blanton got short with me. “I teach
acting. Don’t you think I can tell when my student is playing a role?”
I silently stared at the professor for a moment, observing his mannerisms. It was perplexing to me why he had blown his top at me, as if the greatest insult I could ever throw his way was to accuse him of not being able to tell if one of his students had put on an act or not.
Was lashing out his way of expressing regret? Did he quietly wonder to himself if things would have turned out differently for Jennifer had he cast her in the lead? Those were both good questions, but they were also ones that the professor had no intention of answering for me.
Whatever rationale Blanton had for barking at me, I knew it wouldn’t do me any good to stoke the fires of his anger any further.
I tried to dial down the tension. “Fair enough.”
I attempted to soften up his mood even further, but the professor had exhausted the last shred of his patience for me, and nothing I could do would change the fact that he couldn’t wait to get rid of me.
“Are we done here?” he snapped. “I’m a busy man.”
If I thought badgering him would produce a lead, I would have kept going after him, but deep down, I knew my efforts would be in vain. Given that, I decided to cut my losses right there.
“I understand. Thank you for your time,” I said.
Chapter Eleven
I hated going from one contentious exchange to another, but that seemed unavoidable as I returned to Tyler’s apartment with some follow-up questions. The good news was that he was finally home. As expected, he was not thrilled to see me. So much so that as I stood in the hallway looking at the surly expression on Tyler’s face, I got the feeling that, to him, doing anything else at that moment was preferable to talking to me, even something as dreaded as studying.
The funny thing was, if anyone had a right to be angry, it was me. After all, he had not been entirely forthcoming when answering my questions earlier. I would get to that, but first I needed to get him to simmer down a little.
“You again,” he sneered.
I threw a little sarcasm his way. “Don’t look too happy to see me now.”
The joke was lost on him. He didn’t loosen up in the least. If anything, it only soured his mood even further. Go figure. College students sure enjoyed firing off sarcastic lines at each other, but some had trouble handling a little return fire.
“I won’t,” he replied. Tyler didn’t mince words as he continued. “What do you want?”
“I have a few more questions for you,” I said.
“I don’t have anything else to say to you,” he replied.
I was taken aback by how quickly he had shut me down. He had made it clear in no uncertain terms that I was as welcome here as a tax auditor.
Despite that unenviable welcome, I powered on, attempting to melt his icy exterior as much as I could. “Why are you being so cross with me? I didn’t do anything to you.”
“Look, this isn’t really the best time for me.”
“That’s okay. I can come back later.”
He was clearly hoping that “later” could turn into “never.” Tyler had no such luck. He saw the look of determination on my face and tried to think of a new way to get me to leave.
“I meant, emotionally this isn’t the best time for me. There’s a lot going on in my life,” he said.
Tyler wanted me to believe that he was deep in mourning, but I knew better than that and had a photo to prove it. He also failed to realize that if he truly was broken up about Jennifer’s death, that he was looking at my investigation all wrong.
I tried to get him to come along to my line of thinking. “I understand that it is an emotional time for you, but if anything, you should be nice to me.”
He scrunched his nose at me. “Why?”
“Because I’m trying to find out what really happened to your girlfriend. If I do, that could bring you some much-needed closure.”
I had stated my case, but that did nothing to make him warm up to me. Not that I was expecting him to suddenly change his tune, but I wanted to at least make the effort.
I could tell by the annoyed look in his eyes that he still wanted me to go away as soon as possible, but for the sake of the ruse he was putting on, he decided to indulge a few questions from me.
Of course, not without letting out a considerable groan first. “Fine. What do you want to ask me?”
If things weren’t tense enough between us already, my next question had the potential to not just rock the boat—it could flat-out sink it. Much to my chagrin, there was no way to lightly ease myself into what I had to say next, so I just decided to launch into it.
“I had a very interesting conversation with Vanessa Young.”
“I’ll bet you did.”
“She had some choice words for you.”
“I can imagine.”
I could see him starting to seethe, but he managed to hold back just enough to keep from lashing out at me.
“She said that I should watch out for you. Do you have any idea why she would say that?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I was surprised that Tyler hadn’t blown up at me yet. Clearly, he and Vanessa had a history of some sort, although, he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to elaborate on that. Some things never changed. I was starting to believe that pulling teeth would be easier than getting information out of him.
“Why would Vanessa say that?” I asked.
“Because she’s crazy,” Tyler said.
What a bold statement to make. What remained to be seen was whether there was any validity to that statement.
“Do you have any proof to back up that claim?” I asked.
“Trust me, you don’t want to listen to anything that girl says.”
Once again, he managed to sound menacing and yet also vague in the same sentence. Why was it so difficult to get a straight answer from him?
“Why shouldn’t I listen to her?” I asked.
“Because she’s out to get me.”
It didn’t take an expert to read between the lines. Tyler was desperate to throw the heat off of himself. I called him out on his evasive maneuvers. “You seem to be trying awfully hard to deflect.”
“I’m serious. She is out to get me.”
“I’m all ears. What makes you say that?”
“Vanessa has had a crush on me for over a year, but I don’t feel the same way about her. Never have and never will. She just can’t accept that, so she goes around badmouthing me.”
It was an interesting response, but one thing about it didn’t sit right with me. “Let’s say it’s true that she does have a crush on you—”
He interrupted me. “It is true.”
“Fine. Assuming you are right, it doesn’t change the fact that you haven’t refuted her claim. Why would she warn me to watch out for you?”
“I already told you, because she’s crazy. Like I said, that woman is out to get me.”
“I don’t know. She didn’t seem crazy when she told me you and Jennifer had been fighting a fair amount recently. Or that you two had a pretty big argument the night before she killed herself. Are you going to dispute that?” I asked.
Tyler snarled. “That liar. How dare her. I’m telling you, Vanessa is the person you should be talking to, not me.”
“You keep telling me that. Trust me, I will be paying her another visit, but I want some answers from you first.”
Tyler went from annoyed to frantic. His grip on his temper began to slip as desperation set in. “I already told you what I know.”
I shook my head. “Not about Heather Bonner, you haven’t.”
I didn’t usually like to switch gears that quickly, but the change in subject took Tyler by such surprise that he went from attack mode to defense mode.
Tyler’s voice cracked as he answered, “What about her?”
I folded my arms and called him out. “Don’t play dumb. I know you two are back together. I saw you kissing in her car.”
Tyler became outraged. “You were spying on me?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t have to. You were kissing on the street in plain sight. If you wanted to hide, you should have done a better job of it.”
“What I want is for you to leave me alone,” he said.
“I’ll be happy to,” I started saying.
His eyes lit up a tad prematurely. As I finished my thought, the gleam in his eyes faded away.
“When you finish answering my questions,” I added.
Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Who I kiss is none of your business.”
“Normally, I’d agree, but you told me you were still mourning Jennifer’s death. To already be kissing Heather seems like a really quick turnaround,” I said.
Tyler snarled at me. “You’re throwing around a lot of horrible accusations.”
I owned up to that claim. “I am. I’m not going to deny that. The question is, are they true?”
Tyler had managed to keep a lid on his emotions up until that point, but he couldn’t restrain himself anymore. He was finished talking with me, no matter how many questions I wanted answers to.
“We’re done here,” he barked.
Before I was able to get a reply in, Tyler slammed the door in my face. I knocked a couple of times to try to get him to open up again, but he didn’t answer.
Chapter Twelve
Tyler was done talking to me, but maybe I would have some luck wringing some information out of his girlfriend. After looking up Heather Bonner’s address, I drove over to her off-campus apartment. I parked in front of the brick apartment building where a bearded, long-haired student was sitting on the front steps strumming his guitar, playing an upbeat song. Since it was the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday, I couldn’t help but think to myself how great it would be to be that carefree again.
Ultimately, it didn’t really matter as it would never happen. I couldn’t imagine ever having that kind of leisure time at my disposal again. I walked past the guitar player as he sang at the top of his lungs, then I continued on to Heather’s second-floor apartment.
Meredith Potts Fourteen Book Cozy Mystery Set Page 5
