Caught dead to write, p.11
Caught Dead to Write, page 11
“The whole thing? Or where do you want me to start?” Cat felt her neck muscles tightening again. What a waste of a soak.
“From the first time you saw Harriet to the time you woke up the next morning.” Uncle Pete must have seen the frustration on her face. “Cat, I need to clear you. Especially with this professor coming in and giving this damning statement. I don’t know what you did to get on this guy’s bad side, but you have him upset.”
She went through the timeline as she remembered it, including her first sighting of Harriet. “Seth was with me and he can tell you that I didn’t go over to accuse her of backstabbing me then drinking my wine.”
“Because I told you to leave it alone,” Seth reminded her. “Can you remember who was nearby that might have overheard us talking?”
“We were standing near the bar. Mostly everyone except Harriet, Stephen, and Tammy. They were on the other side of the room, talking.” She shook her head. “No one stands out. I don’t know who all heard me complain about Harriet being there. A lot of people heard them fighting though. They had several incidences of raised voices.”
Uncle Pete sighed and closed his notebook. “Your story hasn’t changed at all since the last time we talked. I know you didn’t kill Harriet. I just don’t know what this Professor Lancaster has against you.”
Cat and Shauna’s gaze met. “You’re kidding, right? Todd Lancaster filed the statement?”
Uncle Pete nodded. “Why is that significant? I can tell by that look it is a problem.”
“He’s the professor we asked to come talk to the writers this session. When I found out that Covington sent us a poet, I wanted to make sure he got something from the programming, but apparently he’s secretly writing a novel. So no outing him. Anyway, Todd was really good. I thought he might do a talk for us when we start taking a second retreat at the first of the year.”
“You’re telling me he had a reason to not tell me about what he heard. You’re not helping your case here. Did you notice any negativity when he talked to the writers? Any hint of a mental illness perhaps that would cause him to do something so much out of his character? A need to jeopardize his career so he could torch yours?” Uncle Pete looked at Shauna, then Cat.
“We found out that he replaced Harriet on the panel that’s against Covington sponsoring the retreat. That’s why I was at the campus yesterday and why I was in the English building specifically. I wanted to talk to him. That reminds me, what was taken from Harriet’s office?”
“I never said anything was taken.” Uncle Pete narrowed his eyes but then he turned pages in the notebook. “Her assistant said there was some candy missing from the top drawer, but she didn’t know if Harriet finished it off on Saturday since the janitorial staff comes seven days a week and would have dumped her trash bin. That was her last day at in the office until Monday. And by then she knew Harriet was dead, so she consulted the college attorneys, who basically told her to keep going to work until they told her not to. I’m thinking they might have been looking for something that wasn’t there.”
“From the gossip I heard in the stairwell, Lancaster is not only taking over Harriet’s crusade against the retreat, he’s also taking over her classes.” Cat tapped her fingers on the table. “The dean gave me Lancaster’s name to substitute in for Professor Turner. He seems to be pretty close to the guy.”
“I wonder who else he’s close to.” Uncle Pete scribbled a note. “Have you heard from your friend, Dante? Did he know this Lancaster?”
“Why would Dante try to shut down the retreat?” Cat could feel her anger building.
“That wasn’t my question. I’m just wondering if you’re in the middle of some family business we don’t know about. The president seemed to think this was off the Covington radar, but this Lancaster guy’s name is coming up more than I like.” Uncle Pete snapped his notebook closed. “Has your friendly neighborhood gangster stopped by since he’s been in town?”
“No.” Cat saw Seth trying to pretend like he wasn’t also waiting for her answer. “Guys, I haven’t seen Dante in months. And the last time I did, I was walking home from town and he stopped me as I passed by his house. No big secret meetings. Do you really think Harriet’s death could be about the families?”
Uncle Pete stood and put his hat on. “In Aspen Hills, a lot is about the families without us ever knowing. I’ll check it out. Just stay clear of this Lancaster guy until I make sure he’s not connected.”
“I’ll walk out with you,” Seth said and followed her uncle out of the house.
Shauna leaned back in her chair. “So much for a perfect replacement for Professor Turner. I can’t believe the little weasel was here, talking like a normal person, then goes and lies to your uncle. What’s his game?”
Cat shook her head. “I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.”
Shauna shook her head. “Your uncle said to stay out of it.”
“No, his exact words were ‘don’t talk to Lancaster.’ I’m going to call the dean and see if this hearing can be cancelled now that Harriet’s dead. I’ll pretend like we didn’t get the letter saying she’d been replaced. I want to hear it from the dean. Maybe then he can tell me why someone who he’d sent here, helping with the retreat, would be against it now. It’s a valid question.”
“If I hadn’t opened the letter from the college yet, it’s really the thing you would be doing. Especially if Lancaster didn’t think your uncle would tell you about what he said.”
“Or Lancaster might not know Pete’s my uncle.” Cat pulled out her phone. “Let’s call now and see if we can catch the dean off guard.”
She dialed the number to the dean’s office by memory. Being a past Covington professor, Cat knew most of the English Department extensions by heart. Or if she didn’t, she still had Michael’s last employee phone directory tucked on a shelf in the den. As she waited for someone to answer, she played with the phone number she’d just dialed. Why did it seem so familiar? “Hi, is the dean available?”
The woman who’d answered the phone was probably a work study student. It was Thursday afternoon and the administration staff had their meetings on Thursdays. The professors met on Tuesdays, the deans of all the departments on Mondays. And no one with any power scheduled meetings on Fridays. That way professors and the higher ups could have a long weekend if they wanted. The scheduling never changed. Or hadn’t since she was a teacher’s assistant whose group always met on Fridays.
“May I help you?” the dean asked, clearly used to the lack of announcement when his real secretary was out of the office.
“Good afternoon, Dean. It’s Cat Latimer. I was calling to see if you had reviewed my request to cancel the hearing about Covington’s sponsorship of the retreat yet. I mean, with the untimely passing of Professor Barring, it’s really not an issue anymore, is it?”
“Ms. Latimer, so nice to hear from you. We’d just received the paperwork for the scholarship you so generously sponsored under your late husband’s name. I’m sure the money will help a great many people who want to study in the language arts.” The dean continued to gush about the scholarship.
Cat really needed to call Dante and get a blow-by-blow on how he’d spent the money that the family had decided belonged to Michael for his work. She interrupted the listing of all the students who were actively studying in the field. “Sorry, no, I didn’t call to talk about the scholarship and I’m sure you’ll use it wisely.”
“But, Ms. Latimer, per the scholarship instructions, you’re the only one who can award the money. I’ll have my secretary set us up a meeting to talk about its requirements.”
“Sound great. I’m looking forward to working with you.” She was going to kill Dante. “Anyway, back to my question. I’m planning some time in New York at my publishers’ and noticed that the hearing was still on my calendar next week. Can we cancel that since, as far as I’m aware, Harriet was the only one opposed to Covington’s sponsorship?”
“Cancel the hearing?” he repeated her request.
“That’s my suggestion. Unless there are others who want to fight Harriet’s battle.” She paused for effect. “I’m sure, with the scholarship and all, you’re not opposed to the retreat. Especially since so many of your past students have supported it, like Tom Cook.”
“We’ve already replaced Harriet with a new professor to present her side.” He dodged the question.
“Oh, who is that and why is he opposed to the retreat?” Cat knew sometimes you had to turn on the direct focus. Especially when the other person didn’t want to answer the question.
“Look, let me look into it and see if there is a reason to continue with the hearing. I’m not sure if any of the professors are opposed to your retreat, at least not in the same way Harriet was.”
“Great, then I’ll hear back from you on Tuesday after the department meeting? That would be awesome.”
“I’m not sure I can get it on the agenda by then.”
Cat smiled at Shauna. “Well, I’m thinking you need to since the hearing is scheduled for next Thursday. It would be silly to put a discussion off until after the hearing, right? I’ll just call you Tuesday at two. Or have your secretary put me on the calendar for then and we can finalize the scholarship terms at the same time. I’m writing it down now. Let me know if you want to do this over the phone or in person.”
She hung up the phone and Shauna started to clap. “That was amazing.”
“Thank goodness for Dante and his scholarship rules.” She broke off to explain the set up to Shauna. “Although I hate him for setting me up this way. At least it gave me some power to force his hand.” Cat tapped the table again. “But the dean didn’t tell me who the other professor was. I wonder if he realized he’d made a mistake by putting Lancaster both in the retreat and on the hearing panel.”
“I’m just glad I’m not on the other side from you,” Shauna said.
Cat shrugged. “Uncle Pete told me to stop threatening to kill everyone I have a beef with, so I guess learning how to negotiate is a better skill than empty threats. Now, I’m heading upstairs to relax until dinner’s ready, unless you need some help?”
“I’m not going to let you cook, Cat.” Shauna walked over to her desk and held up a clipboard of things to do. “And it seems my list is all checked off except for dinner and refreshing the dining room before I head up to bed. Unless you need help with the sprinting group?”
“Actually, Deek said he’d handle it. So unless I wake up from a nap and just have a need to get words done, I think I’m done for the day.” She stood and rolled her shoulders. “Maybe we should think about adding a hot tub to the back yard. I haven’t felt this relaxed in months.”
“It’s the magical healing power of the hot springs water,” Shauna called after her. “You can’t get that out of the tap.”
Cat pushed the door open and looked back. “I can try.”
When Cat awoke from the nap she’d taken after dinner, it was almost midnight. The house was quiet, but it didn’t mean she was the only one up. Writers either wrote in the morning or late at night. There were a few who wrote during the normal nine-to-five workday, but since most of the writers she worked with were fitting it in around another job, they fit in the time to craft words when they could find slots in their schedule to sit down for a few minutes. One writer she knew wrote in fifteen-minute increments since she got a break in the morning, and one in the afternoon, and wrote at lunch around her day job. Then she either finished up her word count first thing in the morning or right after she finished working.
Writers were obsessed with getting the story down. It was just something they had to do to feel better. To feel like they were making progress. And to get the story out of their head. Sometimes, Cat wrote a short one- or two-page blurb about a book idea, just in case her agent came looking for another book idea. And it was usually a story that had been swirling around in Cat’s head for a few weeks. That way, she didn’t lose the idea, or if it wasn’t going to work out, she could flesh out the idea while she worked the story. Sometimes things sounded better in her head.
She hadn’t changed out of the yoga clothes she’d put on after going to the hot springs yet into pj’s so she headed downstairs to the kitchen to see if the writers had left even one brownie in the dining room. If they hadn’t, she’d grab a couple of cookies and a sparkling water to take back up to her room while she puttered around until she was tired again. If she didn’t feel sleepy after thirty minutes of that, she’d go work in her office until her eyes started to close on their own. First, she checked the front door to make sure it was locked. It was. They left the foyer light on at night, just in case one of the writers wanted to go out or was coming back late. The grandfather clock in the foyer showed it was just before midnight.
The dining room didn’t have any brownies so Cat combined the few cookies left on the sideboard onto one plate, then took a tray filled with dirty dishes into the kitchen. She was stacking the dishes in the sink when a light in the barn caught her eye. Either one of the writers or Shauna or maybe even Seth was out there.
She grabbed a flashlight by the door and slipped on a coat, putting the flashlight and a set of house keys in the pocket. She’d left her phone in her office, and she didn’t feel like going all the way upstairs to get it. If there was something wrong, there was an extension in the barn she could use to call for help.
As Cat walked down the gravel path that Seth had put in from the back yard to the barn, an owl hooted in the distance. The light from the moon was bright enough so she didn’t need to take out her flashlight. Pulling the coat closer, she knew winter would soon be overtaking the warm late fall days. Maybe Seth would be better so they could go cross country skiing this year. She knew he wouldn’t be doing downhill this season. If they were even still a couple by then. They felt like a couple now, but there was a line that kept them from moving closer. Maybe it was the cancelled wedding. But really, Cat thought it was her fear that he’d leave again. She heard him saying he was done with missions, but hadn’t he said it before too?
She was at the barn, and one of the kittens who were now full grown, Ali, came out to greet her. She picked him up and rubbed her face against his. He was warm. Apparently, he’d been inside until just now. She opened the barn door and saw a figure sitting on one of the hay bales, hunched over. She stepped into the barn and into the light. “Hello?”
The figure’s head jerked up in fright and Cat could see that the figure was actually Stephen. And he’d been crying.
“What’s going on?” Cat moved closer, hoping he’d recognize her.
His shoulders dropped when he saw it was her. “Sorry, I went for a walk and found myself here, where she died. She was a horrible person and our marriage was on the verge of falling apart, but there had been a time when we were just starting out that things were perfect. We met at Boise State University in English 202. I fell hard. And then we got married and moved here when she got a job at Covington. I started working at the community college, thinking that I’d get hired here, sooner or later. It didn’t happen. Like kids, that didn’t happen either.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Cat sat on a hay bale across from him. Snow, Shauna’s horse whinnied softly from her stall.
“We would have divorced soon. Then I probably would have moved again. Maybe found someone new, maybe not. But that’s not what hurts. I guess I’m grieving the life we could have had, not the one we actually did. The life we dreamed of as a young couple in a small apartment near campus.” He wiped his face. “I know your uncle still thinks I killed Harriet. But I know I didn’t and that’s all I can control. That, and not being a jerk like I was yesterday morning.”
She nodded and reached down to pet another cat who was winding through her legs, begging for attention. “I’ve had to learn the lesson of only dealing with what you can control as well. Several times.”
A noise came from the doorway, Seth stood there, watching them. He met Cat’s gaze. “Everything all right out here?”
“I was just about to head back in. Mind if I walk with you?” She stood and joined Seth at the door. She paused as she reached the doorway and turned back to Stephen. “Don’t stay up too late. You’ve got a big day tomorrow as we start to close up the retreat.”
When they were almost to the back yard, Seth spoke. “Are you sure that was safe?”
“I didn’t know he was there when I went out to the barn. Just that there was a light on.” Cat turned back to see the barn and the light coming out of the loft window. “I don’t think he killed her.”
“I’m glad because I would hate to think you were just sitting there, chatting up a killer about his regrets on his marriage.” Seth turned on his flashlight as the moon went behind a cloud.
As they walked the last bit in silence, Cat thought about Stephen’s regrets and if it had anything to do with Harriet’s death. They needed to find out who she was meeting on the days Stephen was out of town. If they had that piece of information, she was certain they could find the actual killer.
And people would stop pointing fingers at her.
13
Cat slept through her alarm so she didn’t have time to write before escorting the writers to the bookstore. The group was expected to be there at nine. Cat went into the kitchen to grab a travel mug to take coffee with her. She wasn’t expected to stay for the session, by the time she’d finished with this coffee and had walked home, she should be awake enough to write. Or at least that was her plan.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Shauna handed her a muffin sandwich with egg and cheese in it. It was wrapped up in paper towels. “Eat this and if you’re still hungry when you get back, I can make you something else.”
“This will work fine,” Cat said before taking a bite of the sandwich. “I can’t believe I slept in so late.”
