Scoop to Kill: A Mystery a La Mode - By Wendy Lyn Watson Page 0,3

bench. “I’m so sorry, Cal.”

He looked down the hall, gaze resting briefly on Alice and Bree before focusing on the doorway to the English department office. Parents, students, and faculty had cleared away, leaving a harried knot of uniformed law enforcement: Dickerson University police, Dalliance police, and a couple of representatives of the Lantana County Sheriff’s Department. A muscle in Cal’s jaw bunched and released, as though he were chewing over a tough thought.

“Dammit,” he muttered. “I can’t even work the case. Can’t do shit.”

Cal and I hadn’t spoken much over the last twenty years, but I felt like I knew him pretty well. Cal’s grandma and mine were neighbors, and Cal and I had grown up within biking distance of each other. As kids, we’d matched wits with one another over games of Risk and Monopoly, played on the same peewee softball team, and dunked each other at the community swimming pool.

In high school, the fact that Cal had more money and was way more cool than me suddenly started to matter. He still came to my rescue on occasion—like when my mama got plastered and threatened to drive to Tulsa and shoot my daddy with Grandma Peachy’s shotgun—but we didn’t go to the same parties or hang out with the same kids anymore. Then, as adults, he’d gone into the military and I’d gotten married, so we didn’t really cross paths much until the trouble of the autumn before. Still, those lazy summer evenings of lightning bugs and flashlight tag bound us together as surely as blood.

Cal acted. He fought, he seized, he saved, he fixed, he did—having to sit on the sidelines while his family absorbed such a blow would kill him.

“Marla’s gonna need you by her side,” I said. “That’s the best place in the world for you to be.”

Once again, I laid my hand on his forearm. This time, he didn’t push me away. Instead, he covered my hand with his own.

“Detective McCormack?”

Cal and I jumped apart as though we’d been burned.

Emily Clowper stood before us, Finn at her side. Tentatively she extended a hand. “I’m Dr. Clowper. I was on Bryan’s committee. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Cal bolted to his feet. He gave Emily’s hand a hard stare, but made no move to take it. His mama would have had a fit and dropped dead on the spot if she’d witnessed her son behaving so rudely.

“I know who you are,” Cal said, something dark and dangerous in his voice. “And I don’t imagine you’re sorry at all.”

What little color was left in Emily’s face drained away, and she let her proffered hand fall to her side.

“I beg your pardon?” she said.

“What happens to your hearing now that Bryan’s gone, huh?”

Blood rushed to Emily’s waxen cheeks, staining them a hectic crimson.

“Detective McCormack, university counsel has advised me not to discuss Bryan’s allegations or the upcoming hearing with anyone.”

“Sounds mighty convenient,” Cal snapped.

Emily shook her head. “Hardly,” she said. She looked like she was about to argue further with Cal, but Finn placed a restraining hand on her arm. He leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Whatever he said, it clicked with her. She heaved an impatient sigh, but then visibly collected herself.

“Once again, Detective McCormack, I’m sorry for your loss.” Without waiting for an answer, she walked away, turning the corner at the end of the hall and disappearing.

Cal watched her go, jaw hard and eyes harder, before turning on his heel and storming off in the opposite direction.

Once he was out of earshot, I faced Finn. “What the heck was that all about?”

He fidgeted with his camera strap, and I wasn’t sure he’d answer me. But then he shrugged. “It’s a long story,” he said. “Basically, Emily failed Bryan on some exam, and he claimed that she did it in retaliation because he refused her, uh, romantic advances.”

Sexual. Finn meant “sexual advances.” I tried to imagine the abrupt, prickly woman I’d met today making a pass at a younger man. It seemed far-fetched. But given the looks she’d exchanged with Finn, she clearly wasn’t a nun.

“That sounds pretty serious,” I said weakly.

“Apparently so,” Finn said. “Bryan had retained a lawyer and was threatening to sue the school, so there was a lot of pressure on the administration to act. The university had an administrative hearing scheduled for the week after next, after the semester ended. If the university determined Bryan was telling the truth, Emily probably would have lost her job.