Chapter 4

  

Wynan Congers showed up precisely at three that afternoon. Nell followed him into my office with mugs of coffee neither he nor I had requested. Nell was a natural caregiver.

“My father was a chief of police in Tucson,” she said, handing Wynan Congers his mug.

“Was he now? And I’ll bet he was a good chief,” said Congers, still standing close to Nell.

She smiled up at him.

“Did you ever serve?” he asked.

“No. I wanted to join the force, but I wasn’t strong enough to pass the physical.”

I wondered where this was going. I’d never seen Nell talk about herself to a visitor. And Congers, though obsessed with finding his granddaughter, seemed to have momentarily diverted his attention to my still pretty, if aging, assistant.

Just as I was about to clear my throat and remind them I was in the room, Everett Jones knocked on the frame of my office door.

“Please come in, Ev. Mr. Congers, this is Everett Jones, one of our adjunct professors. He’s in charge of the lab where Jamie works. Ev, this is Wynan Congers, Jamie Congers’ grandfather. He’s worried about Jamie’s absence.”

“So am I,” said Ev. “She’s usually very prompt and responsible. It’s been a problem for me the last couple of days not to have her. Is she ill?”

“She’s missing,” said Congers, annoyed but straining for composure. “I’m surprised you haven’t reported it.”

Ev stuttered. “Uh, I’m sorry, sir. I don’t usually report absent students when it’s just been a day or so. I mean, I figure they’re old enough to know what they’re doing…or what they’re missing.”

The older man made a noise in the back of his throat as close to a growl as I cared to hear.

Ev, who was as tall as Congers but easily intimidated, turned to me. “Actually, when she didn’t answer my calls, I thought she might just be cutting class and I was thinking about appointing another student to her job. But I guess if she’s missing, I’ll wait until she’s…uh…found…I mean…”

Nell, sensing the tension between them, interrupted. “I’m sure she’ll be found soon, Mr. Congers. And, Dr. Jones, it would be good to hold off on a new assistant and to make sure everyone in the lab knows that the job still belongs to Jamie.”

How about that? Nell never interrupted, and this was the first time I’d ever seen her take control of a situation. Perhaps I should give my assistant more responsibility.

Congers looked calmer. “What about the students in the lab on Monday night? Did any of them see anything that would help?”

“I’ll be happy to talk to them,” Ev began.

“I think I’d prefer to have the dean’s detective friend talk to them, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine,” said Ev. “Just let me know.” Ev wanted more than anything to be a tenured member of our faculty, and had applied for an assistant professorship.

If he got it, he’d have to prove to me and the other senior faculty that he merited tenure.

The tenure track can be slippery in a university and one major error, or one offended faculty member voting against you, could make all the difference.

My turn. “We will let you know, Ev. You know Detective Joe Morgan of the Landry police?”

“He’s the guy who investigated the dean’s death last year.”

“Right. Joe will want to talk to you, your students, and others. Please make yourself available when he calls.”

“Sure will. Nice to meet you, Mr. Congers. Uh…sorry about the circumstances. I hope this works out soon.” Ev’s feet were already in the hall outside my door by the end of his last sentence.

Congers turned to me. “When do you think I’ll hear again from Morgan?”

“I’m sure he’ll call you this evening or before. Nell gave him your cell number.”

Congers regarded Nell. “Thank you, Mrs. Bishop.” He shook my hand and Nell’s and left.

When we were alone I gave in to my curiosity. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I do. He’s very good-looking.”

“Never known you to care about how people look.” I smiled and sat down in my desk chair.

Nell stepped closer to my desk, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “My grandfather was African-American. Mr. Congers reminds me of him.”

“Your grandfather?”

“Yes. A bit darker than Mr. Congers, but every bit as good-looking.”

I smiled up at her smooth pale face. “I didn’t know.”

“Most people don’t.” She smiled back. “I’ve never tried to deny it, but I’ve also never seen much reason to discuss my racial background. I don’t mind telling you my tall, handsome grandfather’s the one who gave me my big brown eyes.”

I swear she turned to leave my office with what looked like a tiny dance step.