“What?” Renee cried so loudly that she spooked Emerson, who jumped off the windowsill and dashed out the office door.
He was going to be so hard to find in the large library with all its nooks and crannies. I tried not to think about it for the moment. It would only stress me out.
“I just saw him an hour ago with Grandma Daisy,” I said. “They were going over the plan to fix the village hall. He confirmed that Imogene was his mother.”
Renee pressed a hand to her head. “Why do I find all the men with baggage? There must be a stamp on my forehead or something to let men like that know that I will go out with them. I wonder if I can get it surgically removed.”
“He never mentioned his mother or Thoreau?” I asked.
“No, he didn’t. We’ve only been on a couple of dates so far. It’s not like we got to the point where we’d talk about our family trees. Wacky relatives are date five information, at the very least.” Renee rubbed her forehead as if trying to erase that sign she’d mentioned earlier. “Listen, I will make some calls to other libraries and museums and find out if they have heard of or heard from Imogene. When I know something, I’ll call you.”
“You’re not coming to the Red Inkers meeting tonight?” I asked.
“I emailed the members of the group to say that I’m withdrawing. I think it’s the best thing to do under the circumstances. It’s just too difficult to sit in the same room with Richard and listen to him talk about his writing. It’s bad enough seeing him on campus, but I’m going to continue to do that because I love my job and need the paycheck and the health insurance that comes with it.”
“I’m sorry, Renee.” I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t have wanted to be in a small group with an ex-boyfriend either. “We’ll miss you at the meetings.”
She smiled. “I’ll miss them too, but this is for the best. I know it is. Now, you go look for that book, and I’ll see what I can find on my end. This search for Walden is a much welcome distraction.”
As I’d expected, it took me forty minutes to find Emerson in the large library. Both Renee and I searched for him. We finally found the cat sitting at the front door with his sleek black tail curled around his pristine white paws. He meowed as if to ask us where we had been all that time.
I put my hands on my hips. “Let’s go.”
He scratched on the door as if he had been waiting to leave for hours.
I knew I needed to head back to the bookshop soon to relieve Charles, but I wanted to make one more stop on campus before going home.
If Renee was taking advantage of the quiet campus to get some extra work done, I knew Richard was likely doing the same. The English department offices were in the humanities building, just across the courtyard. I left my bicycle at the library and took Emerson with me on a walk across campus.
Even though I was an adjunct, Richard had given me a key to the building. Some of the classes I taught were at night, and he’d wanted me to be able to get into the building if I needed to without calling security.
Although I had yet to use it, I was glad I had that key now. The building was locked for winter break. The English department was at the end of the hall on the first floor. I didn’t see any lights under the door. I used my master key again to get into the office.
The main office space was dominated by a large window that looked out over the college courtyard. Right now, there wasn’t much to look at other than snow.
Richard was notorious for being in his office at all hours of the day and night. The last several months, he’d been there even more often to work on his promotion portfolio. The portfolio process to become a full professor was grueling, and when I was in grad school, I saw more than one talented professor crack under the pressure.
Richard’s personal office was in the back of the shared area. I knocked on the door. There was no answer. I tried the doorknob, but the office was locked.
Emerson sat at my feet and placed a paw on my pant leg.
I sighed. “You’re right. It’s time to go home. I can ask him this evening at Red Inkers why he broke up with Renee.” And I would certainly ask. Maybe it was none of my business, but I felt partly responsible for Richard and Renee getting together in the first place. I wanted to know what had gone wrong, and how I’d failed in setting up a match.
I turned around to leave the office when the outer door flew open. Emerson jumped on a chair. I wasn’t sure if he did so out of fear or to get a better look at the person who came in.
“Ahh!” There was a scream and envelopes flew in all directions.
I put a hand to my chest. “Mary Alice, what are you doing here?” I asked just as soon as I realized it was the school of humanities secretary.
“Oh Violet, you scared me half to death. What on earth are you doing here on winter break? And aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
I sighed. I was growing tired of honeymoon questions. “I’m so sorry if I scared you. I happened to be on campus and dropped by to see if Richard was in.” I bent down to help her collect the envelopes that were all over the floor.
Emerson batted one of the envelopes under the desk. I fished it out and handed it to her along with the others that I had gathered up.
“Thank you.” She stacked the envelopes on her desk. “Richard isn’t here as far as I know. I just came in to get a little work done. There was some paperwork I couldn’t complete before the end of the semester and the best time to do it is when no one is here.” She grinned. “Plus, my three teenagers are home for the holidays. I needed a break from them. That’s my story.”
Mary Alice was the secretary for the English, music, and art departments. In a school as small as Springside, most of the staff wore many hats. I was sure she had other responsibilities on campus that I didn’t even know about.
“I hope the college isn’t overworking you,” I said.
She chuckled. “That’s the Springside model. Work your staff to death until they are so exhausted that they don’t have the will to leave.”
I grimaced. It wasn’t a glamorous take on academia, but it wasn’t an unusual story for a small school with a tight budget. I wanted to tell her that coming into the office on her day off was only proof to the college that she would get her work done no matter the cost to her personal life and health, and by doing that, she was inadvertently encouraging the college to pile on more duties and responsibilities. It proved that she not only could handle it but also that she was willing to. In a way, she was agreeing to the mistreatment. However, I bit my tongue from saying any of it. I’m sure she had heard it all before.
“Did you get married?” Mary Alice asked, slightly alarmed. “Are you working because the wedding was called off?”
“The wedding happened.” I held up my hand to show her my ring as proof. “My husband has been caught up in a case, and we can’t leave the village right now.”
“You’re talking about the woman who died by the river, aren’t you?” She sighed. “That was such a sad story. I didn’t hear if she was from here or not.”
“She was a visitor,” I said, leaving it at that.
She nodded at this too. Living in a village, visitors and tourists could almost be blamed for anything by the locals.
“To be honest, I’m surprised Richard isn’t on campus,” she said. “If you’re looking for a person who never leaves work, he’s your guy. I’m pretty sure he sleeps in his office from time to time. It’s not like the man has a long commute. He can walk from his townhouse. Yesterday, I came in to use the scanner—I don’t have one at home—and he was in his office. It was seven in the morning during winter break.”
“But you were also here at seven in the morning,” I pointed out.
“Yes, but I already told you. I have teenagers that I needed to get away from.” She pressed a hand to the side of her head. “Between the music and their bickering, I’m going to lose my mind. I don’t know how any mother has any Christmas spirit left after her child turns thirteen years old.”
“How old are your kids?” I asked.
“Thirteen, fifteen, and seventeen. I’m right in the thick of it. My mother told me I will start to like them again when they are in their twenties. That feels like eons away.”
“Did Richard say why he’s been working so much over break?” I asked. “Is it a new research project or something?”
“He hasn’t said, and I offered to help. He turned me down, though. I’m sure it’s because he’s embarrassed.” She clicked her tongue in disapproval.
“Embarrassed about what?” I asked, thinking she was going to mention his break up with Renee.
“Because he applied for full professor and didn’t get it.”
“What?” I yelped. “Richard has been here for fifteen years. And he always gets great evaluations from his students.”
“That may be so, but he’s still only an associate professor. He can’t go up in status or salary until he’s a full professor at this point in his career.”
“Did the promotion committee say why he didn’t get it?”
“Lack of scholarship,” she said in a low voice, as if she were saying something gruesome and didn’t want anyone else to overhear.
“Lack of scholarship?” I whispered back, following her lead.
“The committee said he didn’t have enough proof of conference presentations and published articles to be promoted.” She shook her head. “I saw the letter. The dean had me type it up. It was pretty harsh. They gave Richard one more academic year to increase his scholarship and reapply for full professorship. If he can’t prove that he’s actively working on it, he won’t be allowed to apply again. They can’t just let him keep applying over and over. The application process is too time consuming for him and the committee.”
“But he is tenured.”
She shrugged. “Tenure is based more on how long you’ve been a professor, your involvement on campus, and your student evaluations. Scholarship is one piece, but it’s not as important when you apply for tenure as it is when you apply for full professorship.”
Emerson wove around my feet as if he were trying to be comforting. If Mary Alice thought it was off that I’d brought my cat to campus, she didn’t say anything. She had been a college secretary long enough to know that college professors do all kinds of odd things. None of their antics had ever seemed to bother her, as far as I knew.
“Surely that’s more important than making full professor?” I picked up Emerson and cradled him in my arms.
“For job security, yes, but it won’t save him from being embarrassed when the rest of the faculty learns of this at the start of spring semester. And being full professor is worth the work. It’s an impressive bump in pay, but I think for Richard it’s more about the title. The prestige that comes with being a full professor is important to him.”
I frowned because what she said reminded me of Imogene. She wasn’t trying to prove Thoreau’s book was real for the money. It was the principle of the matter that motivated her to continue.
“How many people know?” I asked, certain that Renee would tell me if she knew.
“Not many yet. He received the letter right after finals but before grades were due. The campus was mostly deserted at the time. I believe the dean did that out of kindness to Richard. It gave him time to get used to the idea before classes were back in session.”
“So you think he’s been on campus working on research?” I asked.
“That would be my guess. I know making full professor is all he’s ever wanted. He talks about it constantly.”
That sounded odd to me. Richard had never mentioned that to me, but on campus, I was his employee. Richard was pretty old school when it came to office hierarchy. I could see him believing it was inappropriate to speak about such a matter with someone under his charge.
“Richard needs to make a big splash with his research. This is his last shot. If he doesn’t make full professor now, he can’t apply again. I’m not sure what will happen to him then,” she said.
That sounded ominous.
She shook her head. “He’s been pretty tight-lipped about everything since he got the news.”
I set Emerson back on the floor. Poor Richard. Between breaking up with Renee and this latest news, he had to be in a bad place. He and Rainwater were friends. Maybe I should ask David to talk to him. Perhaps he’d be more comfortable talking to my husband than to me, especially since I technically worked for him.
Mary Alice cocked her head. “Now that you’ve brought it up, I did pick up one hint about his research, even if he wouldn’t tell me what was going on.”
“Really?” I asked.
“An elderly woman with a cane came here right before finals. She said she was looking for an expert on American literature. I know you teach many of those classes, but you weren’t here that day, so I introduced her to Richard. The two went to talk at the college café, I believe.”
“Did she give her name?” I asked.
Mary Alice scratched her head. “It was an old-fashioned name like Marjory or Gertrude.”
“Imogene?” I asked.
“Yes!” She smiled. “Yes, that was it!” she said like I’d won some kind of prize. “And I found another clue.”
I took a breath because a part of me was loath to hear it. “What was that?”
“He left the title page of a paper he was writing in the printer. The title is what caught my eye.”
I waited.
“I believe the article was called ‘The Descendent of the Great Transcendentalist.’”
My heart sank.
“I found that to be a little strange because I thought that was your area of study,” she went on to say. “I wanted to ask him about it, but he’s been so closed-mouthed lately that I decided to let him be. Maybe I should have asked more questions.”
Maybe she should have.
“He’s seemed depressed and bitter in recent weeks. Honestly, I think he would do anything to satisfy the committee’s requirements for promotion.”
“Anything?” I whispered.
“Anything.” She was emphatic.
Richard was my boss, my colleague, and most of all, my friend. He was the person who had welcomed me to Cascade Springs and offered me the job at Springside. He was also head of the Red Inkers and a close friend of Rainwater’s. Knowing all of that, could I really believe he hid knowing about the first edition of Walden from me?
The answer was yes, and it broke my heart.