Caught dead to write, p.8
Caught Dead to Write, page 8
The group all agreed, with nods and a few “yes, we are” words of support called out. Cat held up the timer. “Okay, now are we ready to write?”
“You know I am,” Stephen said looking around the room. “And I appreciate being able to be here with you all this week. You’re making my transition less painful.”
“Okay, I’m starting the clock now. We’ll chat more in thirty minutes.” Cat started the timer and then before starting her own writing, she looked around the room. Maybe having Stephen here wasn’t the best idea, but at least this way, she could keep an eye on him. She wasn’t completely sold on the “I loved my wife too much to kill her” routine, but on the other hand, he was handling her death way too easy. At least in her mind. If something had happened to Seth when he was gone, Cat would have been devastated. She wondered if that knowledge was the thing keeping her from moving forward again with Seth.
Either way, this wasn’t her time to think about her relationship. She needed words. Good words or bad words, she needed to fill the page. As she’d agreed earlier, she set her thoughts about Seth aside and fell into Tori’s prep for the first home game as a junior varsity cheerleader.
When the bell went off, everyone finished the sentence they were writing. Then she called out for word count, writing the numbers on the flip chart next to her. It was impressive how many words six people could get in thirty minutes. She pointed to the total number for that session. “Just think, if you scheduled six thirty-minute sessions for your week, you could be at this level or even more on your word counts. Sometimes it’s just the idea of actually keeping track that’s the magic.”
“What if all the words are crap and we have to throw them out in edits?” Pixie asked as she stood and stretched.
“Then like Thomas Edison, you know one more way not to invent the light bulb. I’m a discovery writer so I have to think things out on the paper. I only know what’s going to happen after I write it. Or at least the specifics of what’s going to happen. Sometimes Tori, my main character, opens her mouth and I’m shocked at what she says. Which is a good thing.” Cat stood and stretched. “Ten-minute break. If you’re doing a second round, get your snacks, bathroom breaks, and smokes in before seven forty. Or be really quiet when you come back into the room.”
“Man, you really need to give yourself a break.” Dalton patted Stephen on the back as they left the room. “Somethings happen for a reason.”
Cat watched as the group headed out of the living room and toward the dining room where Shauna would have just dropped off the last bunch of snacks for the evening. Maybe having Stephen here was a good reminder of what was important in life.
Even for her.
9
The next morning, Cat woke early and headed upstairs to prepare for her session. She had a regular spiel, but she liked to add things based on each retreat’s writers. Questions that had come up or she thought might, as well as questions around the specific type of books the group was writing. For this one, she assumed she’d be asked about the different publishers who bought paranormal books, the current state of the market for the subgenre, and the question that at least one person in every group asked, should I self-publish. She got out her folder and reviewed the notes she’d already made, then she added a few additional questions she thought she might be asked and went looking for the details for the answers.
Of course, the standard warning for all groups had been your mileage may vary. Each writer went about getting published in their own individual way. Writers who liked outside direction enjoyed having a publisher to set deadlines and give them support. Writers who were more internally motivated did better with self-publishing than others. If you never finished a book, it didn’t matter how good the writing was. She also liked to repeat a piece of advice she’d heard from a lot of successful authors. Write three books, then try to get published. Writing a book was fun. Finishing it, that was a whole different story. A lot of would-be authors got four or five chapters in and got bored with the book. They’d blame the book idea or the genre and start another story. Finishing a book was harder than it seemed, and she wanted retreat guests to face that dragon sooner than later.
Cat finished her additions and realized she was out of coffee. Before going downstairs, she opened her manuscript and read what she’d written last night over the three sprint sessions. She tweaked a few words here and there, then picked up on the trail she’d built last night. Tori’s first football game as a cheerleader had been a disaster. Someone in the coven had cast a spell to turn one of the girls from the squad green during the game.
Tori was on the hunt to see who in the coven was having a bad hair day now. The lesson of negative karma hadn’t seemed to take with at least one of her witch friends. Cat was writing the scene where Tori and her witch rival, Katrina, were talking in Katrina’s dorm room. Even with a towel over her head, the other witch was still trying to deny that she’d been the one to cast the spell. But when Tori saw the strand of emerald green hair fall out of the carefully wrapped turban, she knew she’d found the spellcaster.
Now, what to do with the rule breaker? Or was her own bad hair day enough to cement the lesson of do unto others? Tori was torn but she finally let the natural consequences do the punishment. A knock on the door brought Cat out of the story.
Shauna came in with a tray. “More coffee and a cinnamon roll for you. I knew you were probably busy working on your session, so I thought I’d bring sustenance up for you.”
“Session is as done as it’s going to get. It’s always kind of fluid. Not like Professor Lancaster’s lecture. You can tell he has a real love for the subject of word origins. He’s done a lot of research for that class.” Cat saved the document and then turned around and took the carafe from the coffee table where Shauna had placed the tray. “I’m working on a scene I started last night with the word sprints. I might have to implement sprint times on non-retreat weeks. Maybe you can come in and pretend you’re writing with me.”
“I don’t think it works that way, but I could probably edit and write the introductions to the recipes. I like making them little stories.” She sat down on the coffee table and poured a cup of coffee into the extra mug Cat hadn’t seen.
“Uh oh, you’ve got some news for me.” Cat pulled the cinnamon roll closer and broke off a bite. “Let me get the sugar high going before you burst my bubble.”
“It’s not that bad, but it’s interesting. At least I think so.” She took a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it to Cat. “I got this from the university. They wanted us to know that due to the death of Professor Barring, our hearing would be with the dean and a different professor who’s still arguing that Covington shouldn’t support the retreat.”
“Not surprising. I mean, I’d love it if our opposition had only been Harriet, but you have to know that a lot of the professors are on the same wavelength. If it’s not literary, it’s not real writing.” Cat scanned the letter. It said exactly what Shauna reported. She took in a deep breath when she found the part Shauna hadn’t said. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. Professor Todd Lancaster is the new torch bearer for cutting off our funds. I think that’s surprising since you had such a good discussion with him about hiring him for the editing sessions we’re planning next year.” Shauna sipped her coffee. “Did you have a clue he was so against our retreat?”
“No and that’s sad, since I really enjoyed his lecture and I still think retreat guests would get a lot out of him being part of the team.” She glanced at her watch. “Maybe I have time to go talk to him. See what his issues are.”
“Cat, you might just hold off and see how the hearing goes. If their side loses, you can just be the bigger man and still hire him.” Shauna sipped her coffee.
“You’re thinking the rest there, aren’t you? If we lose, do we trust him to be part of our team here?” Cat ate more cinnamon roll. “I hate it when people aren’t upfront with me. If he didn’t think the retreat was worthwhile, why did he say yes to talking yesterday?”
Shauna set her coffee down. “Do you think he was scouting the retreat out for Harriet? Planning to give her information so she could have countered our arguments and make us look like we’re hacks?”
“That’s a possibility. Or you’ve been watching too many spy movies. Of course, it is Aspen Hills. Weird things happen here.” Cat took the last bite of the roll. That must be a land and sea eating record as fast as she’d devoured it. Emotional eaters are us.
“Maybe you should take someone with you if you go to the college to talk to him.” Shauna moved the carafe off the tray and set the empty plate and fork on the middle. She drained her cup and set that on the tray as well. “I’m not doing anything this afternoon. Or maybe Seth?”
“If I take Seth, he’ll be all macho about it. I just want to have a talk with Lancaster. You can call Uncle Pete if I go over an hour. He’ll probably not even be there. Finding a professor on campus without just going in during their office hours is harder than tracking down a stray dog.”
“That’s a pretty image.” Shauna stood and picked up the tray. “I’ll let you get back to writing. Do you want me to come and get you for your session?”
“No, I’ve got an alarm set.” Cat held up her smartwatch. “But if they come looking for me, feel free.”
“Okay then. Just let me know before you take off to talk to the professor. I have a bad feeling about this.” Shauna left the office and shut the door.
Cat turned back to the computer and glanced at the screen. Was she walking into the line of fire like her uncle would say? Or was it less covert that that? Maybe Lancaster agreed to be part of Harriet’s crusade and his visit with the retreat wasn’t as suspicious as it looked. Either way, she needed to find out what was going on.
She put away the questions that Shauna’s announcement had started rolling around in her head and went back to Tori and her predicament. She needed to set the stage for a bigger conflict with this other witch, and the problem had started when Tori let her walk away from this first issue. Or at least that was the plan right now. Cat would let Tori figure out the plot as she wrote the words. It was story magic and it worked every time.
Her watch started beeping and she reluctantly logged off her computer. The words were flowing and she hated to stop when that was happening. Unfortunately, days like this were few and far between. Especially in this book where they were starting a new journey for Tori.
She picked up her folder as well as her cup and the empty carafe. She closed the door and put a hand on the outside. “I’ll be back soon, Tori. You just figure out what’s going on and I’ll take notes.”
Cat hurried down the stairs and dropped the dishes off in the kitchen. Shauna wasn’t there so she grabbed a bottle of water and a cookie and headed into the living room to set up.
Cat copied the questions she always got from retreat guests, leaving room for new questions. She put her notes in front of her as she got ready, then she ate the cookie while waiting for the guests to arrive. As she waited, she thought about Lancaster and his role in the hearing. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. Harriet’s face floated in her mind. On the other hand, a woman was dead. Everything needed to be examined to make sure Harriet’s killer was found. Even just an education dispute about what was important in literature. One that could affect her livelihood.
During the session, Stephen looked distracted. When they took a break, Cat tried to pull him aside, but he was on his phone and left the house to talk. When they started up again, Stephen hadn’t returned.
Deek held up his phone. “Stephen got called away on this murder investigation so he says to go on without him. He said he’ll try to meet us at the Diner for lunch at twelve thirty.”
With that mini mystery solved, Cat continued the session. When they broke for lunch, Dalton came up to her after the rest had left. “Hey, Dalton, do you have a question?”
He looked around the room and stepped even closer. “You know how you said you wouldn’t tell the college about my book?”
“I stand by that. They won’t hear from me that you’re slumming it with us by writing paranormal fiction.” Cat ripped the flip chart page off and folded it. She’d go back up to her office and make adjustments to the class after lunch. Or maybe after lunch and the trip to the college.
“Actually, I have something else I feel like I need to say, but I think it will just cause hurt feelings. And honestly, I didn’t know about it when the thing happened. Once I found out, I broke it off immediately.” Dalton was talking really fast and Cat worried she might know where this was headed.
“Dalton, I’m not a lawyer or a priest. You don’t have to tell me anything.” Cat tucked the flipchart into her folder and moved the stand into a nearby closet. She put the pens in a mug Shauna had put into the room for her use.
“But what if I want to? I need to tell someone, it’s killing me. And if I tell you, then if you think someone needs to know it, you can tell him.” Dalton looked up at her with unbridled hope.
She sat down next to him. “Fine, what do you need to tell me? I’m just going to give you fair warning: if it’s a crime, I’m telling my uncle. Since he is the chief of police.”
“Mmmmmhh, I hadn’t thought about that.” He rubbed his head. “Nope, I still think someone needs to know and I trust you.”
“You just met me a few days ago,” Cat reminded him.
“Yeah, but you’re solid. I can tell that from you. And Deek says your aura is bright green, the sign of a kind and loving heart. I guess that’s why I trust you.” He looked around the room again. “I need to make sure no one hears us. I can’t put this on someone accidentally.”
“Okay, Dalton, spill. I’ve got things I need to do.”
He adjusted his shirt, then he looked Cat straight in her eyes. “I slept with Stephen’s wife, Harriet. I had Intro to Poetry last year and she wanted to help me with my poems. So we started meeting at night at her house, and then it happened. When I found out that she was married, I broke it off. Well, after class ended. I didn’t need her to blackball me to the English department just because I didn’t want to sleep with a married woman. That’s a bad thing to say, right? Maybe she wouldn’t have been vindictive, but I didn’t want to take a chance. I’m here on scholarship. What if she told them I was the aggressor?”
Cat sat back, floored. She’d thought that maybe Harriet had been having an affair, but she’d assumed it had been with a fellow Covington professor. And that was why she didn’t want Stephen to get a job at the college. That way, she’d have to come clean about the affair. But having sex with a student? Not even talking about the age difference, it was a power issue. That was one of the reasons she’d been so mad at Michael when they’d divorced. She had been concerned about what it would do to his reputation. Even though he’d already been labeled a flirt. They’d started dating when she was a teacher’s assistant, but back then, she had been a graduate student, not an undergrad. And with his reputation, it hadn’t been surprising. Even so, she hadn’t been Michael’s student, she was in a different department, and he hadn’t been grading her term papers while they were in bed together. She realized Dalton was waiting for her to say something.
When she didn’t respond, he sank onto the couch. “It’s bad, isn’t it? I knew I shouldn’t be with her, but it was so exciting to have an older woman interested in me. Girls my age tend to see me as a joke.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, and if it is, maybe it’s your behavior you need to work on.” Cat leaned down, resting her hands on her legs. “Look, you’re right. Having an affair with a married woman isn’t a good thing to do. But you can’t change the past. And I’m not sure telling Stephen is doing anything but making you feel better at this point.”
“He’d be upset. He thought she was faithful. He told us that you and Seth were talking about Harriet. He said he told you that she wouldn’t cheat. But she did. At least she did with me.” Dalton leaned back in the couch. “I like Stephen. He’s a good guy and I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Look, maybe telling him is important if you want to continue to be friends, but right now, it’s going to gut him. Maybe you could wait a few months and if he’s still in your life, you’ll need to come clean then. If this friendship doesn’t go past the retreat, you can just file it away as a life lesson learned.” Cat paused a second, trying to wrap her head around the entire situation. “I think you need to tell my uncle though.”
“The police chief? Won’t he throw me in jail for killing Harriet?” Dalton’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter, looking like he was ready to bolt out of there.
“Did you?”
Dalton blinked. “Did I what?”
“Did you kill Harriet?” She waited a beat while the question seeped into Dalton’s brain.
He shook his head. “I swear, I didn’t hurt her. I’ve been avoiding her since I cut it off. You should have seen the dagger eyes she was sending me the night of the party. It was scary.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. Uncle Pete needs to know if Harriet had a pattern of hooking up with students. Maybe one of them is the killer or one of the people who care about the student. Anyone could be the killer, it’s just a matter of motive and accessibility. You need to make sure Uncle Pete knows that you didn’t have motive, and hopefully, that you were with someone when she was killed.”
“I was here, right?” He frowned then tapped the table. “No, the party was on Saturday night. Harriet and Stephen had this big fight. She was making me uncomfortable with the stares so I left with one of the local writing chicks and hit the Upper Classman for a drink. You know that new bar that’s decorated like a cool frat house? We were there until two, I left with a girl in one of my classes, and she was still in my room the next morning. That’s an alibi, right?”
Cat saw he was truly happy he’d cleared himself of the murder. Now, he just had to tell the same story to Uncle Pete and have the girl confirm it. “Sounds like one to me. Do you want me to call my uncle?”
