For the next week, I watched for signs of the green pickup. The nights I didn’t see it cruise up and down Grover were the worst, because I lay awake half the night waiting to hear the familiar backfire. When it would finally split the night air, it almost came as a relief.
On Friday morning, I tried to put the green pickup out of my head as I walked to Harshberger. As I stepped onto campus, a silver sedan turned onto the college’s private road and sped past me, dangerously close. I stumbled onto the grass, my heel sinking into the damp earth. I stood there until my heart slowed, then slipped my foot out of the shoe and headed to work.
That morning I had scheduled a meeting with my staff, knowing I would need to be alert. In the week I’d known him, Joel had been, at best, passive-aggressive toward me; at worst, openly hostile. I was pleased to see all were there when I entered the workroom. Maybe there was hope for our little department yet.
Clark smiled at me when I took my seat at the head of the table; Miller fidgeted with his laptop cord, wrapping it around and around his index finger; and Joel glared at me. I repressed a sigh.
“Good morning, everyone,” I said. “I—”
“How’s your shoe, boss.” Joel smirked.
My chest constricted. “My shoe?”
“I saw you almost take a tumble. You should be more careful.”
“Seriously, dude,” Clark mumbled.
I gritted my teeth. “I want to begin this meeting today by saying I’m so glad to be here at Harshberger. I’m looking forward to offering new services to our students. For one, we need to investigate a course management system so that professors can more easily communicate with their students online, and—”
My cell phone played the “Star Spangled Banner.” The Fourth of July was long over, but I’d yet to change my ringtone.
Joel glowered at me. “Most of us don’t carry our personal phones while on campus. It interferes with college business.”
I ignored Joel’s comment and fumbled to reach the phone in my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number, but it was an Appleseed Creek area code. I silenced the phone and placed it on the table next to my laptop computer. “I’m excited about working with all of you. Together, we can bring Harshberger up to speed in the twenty-first century.”
Joel scowled. “Are you saying we aren’t in the twenty-first century?”
“No, no, of course, I’m not saying that at all. However, there are things we can do to improve.”
“I’m sure the college thinks having you here is a big improvement.” Joel muttered just loud enough for me to overhear.
Clark leaned back in his chair. “Joel, give it a rest, man.”
I shot him a grateful smile, but he didn’t meet my gaze.
Joel glared at Clark but shut his mouth.
I straightened the stack of files on the table. “As I was saying—”
My phone played the “Star Spangled Banner” again. I checked the readout. It was the same number as before.
“How patriotic of you,” Joel quipped.
I stood up. “I think I better take this. It’s a local number. It could be related to the college.”
Joel rolled his eyes. “If it was college related, whoever it was would call your office phone.”
“I’ll be right back.” I stepped inside my office and shut the door. “Hello?”
From the other end of the line came a muffled sob. “Chloe?”
“Becky? I can’t understand you.”
Another sob came over the phone.
“Becky? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?” I peered through the small window in my office door. Joel said something to Clark and Miller. They both laughed. Whatever he said, I knew it was at my expense.
“Chloe?” Becky whispered.
“Yes, I’m here.”
“Bishop Glick is dead.” She took a shuddered breath. “And I killed him.”