“Can you tell whether anything is missing?” Ford asked.
“No, sorry,” I said. “I was in this office frequently while Peter Vanderkeller was director, but not so much recently. Perhaps once I’ve had time to put everything back, I might see that something is missing. But for now, no.”
“All right,” Ford said. “I’d appreciate it, if you come across anything odd, that you let me know.”
“Certainly,” I said. “Is someone going to look for fingerprints? Although surely the intruder was smart enough to wear gloves.”
“Probably was,” Ford replied. “We’ll check, or rather the sheriff’s department will. I haven’t called them. I wanted to talk to you first.” He turned to the officer with him, who so far hadn’t uttered a word. “Call them now.” The man nodded and stepped into the other room, pulling out a cell phone as he did so.
“How did the intruder get in?” I asked, somewhat belatedly.
“With a key,” Ford replied. “There are no signs of a break-in anywhere. Do you know who has keys to this building?”
I thought about that moment. “The director has a key, of course. I suppose the killer could have Reilly’s key. Other than the custodial staff, there’s just me and Melba.”
“I’ll check with the sheriff’s department on Reilly’s key,” Ford said. “You or Melba haven’t lost yours recently, by any chance?”
“I haven’t, and Melba hasn’t said anything to me if she did,” I replied. “So the killer probably has Reilly’s key. Assuming that the intruder and the killer are one and the same.”
“Have to be,” Ford said.
“Probably. Do you need me to stay?”
Ford considered that for a moment. “No, I can tell the deputies who respond what you’ve told me. You will probably get a visit from Chief Deputy Berry in the morning anyway.”
“I’m sure I will,” I said. “I’d better remember to call Melba first thing in the morning.” I laughed. “Later this morning, that is, and warn her. She’d have a heart attack if she walked in on this unaware.”
“Thanks for coming over,” Ford said, and I took that as my cue to collect the cat and go home.
In the car on the short ride back to the house, I told Diesel we would have a lot of work to do getting the office back in order. He meowed in response, as if to say he’d be glad to help.
Back in bed, the lights off, I thought about the chaos I’d seen. What on earth had the intruder been looking for? Whatever it was, it was important to the solution of the murders, I felt sure. Otherwise, why take the risk of getting caught?
I didn’t like the idea of the killer having a key to get into the building. Perhaps I should ask to have the locks changed immediately. Maybe Ford would see to that without my even asking. He probably would, I decided, and closed my eyes. Sleep came more easily than expected, and when the alarm went off at six thirty, I was deep in dreamland.
TWENTY-THREE
“I’d better see if Azalea would have time to take a few things to the cleaners for me.” I glanced down at the cat peering into the closet with me. “I haven’t worn some of these suits in several years.” I sighed. “I don’t look forward to wearing a suit to work every day.”
Diesel meowed.
“If I’m going to be rubbing shoulders with the presidents and vice presidents in charge of this, that, and the other, not to mention the odd dean or two—and a couple of them are really odd—I’ll have to dress the part.” The prospect did not appeal, but I had agreed to do the job, and therefore I had to look the part. “I hope some of them still fit.”
Diesel warbled as if to say he had doubts that they would.
“You’re right about that,” I said. “The jackets will be fine. I may need a girdle to get into the pants, though.”
Diesel meowed twice. I thought he might be getting tired of standing in front of the closet with me. I’d been at this for a good ten minutes now. I pulled out three suits and laid them on the bed. The cat promptly hopped on the bed to sniff at them, and when I came back from the bathroom moments later, he was stretched out atop them.
“Off, Diesel,” I said. He considered me for a moment, then slowly stood and stretched before he stepped off the suits. I gathered them up and told him to come with me. Time we were heading to the office.
Downstairs, after a brief conversation with Azalea about the suits, I loaded Diesel into the car and off we went. We were expecting thunderstorms on and off throughout the day, so there would be no pleasant stroll to and from work. I hoped the dark skies and increasing winds were not an omen for the task ahead.
By agreement, Melba waited in the parking lot behind the building until we arrived a few minutes before eight. I knew she was apprehensive about entering the building, and I couldn’t blame her. She hadn’t taken the news of the break-in well, even though I assured her we would have a campus police officer in the building with us all day. That was the fruit of another early morning phone conversation with Forrest Wyatt.
We entered through the back door, and when we walked into the front hallway, sure enough, there was a campus policeman sitting in a chair near the front door. We greeted him, and then Melba braced herself for her first sight of the chaos in her office. She stared at the mess for about half a minute while Diesel and I waited, then she shook her head and without a word walked over to her desk and set down her purse.
She turned to me, her expression hard. “Give me a few minutes to make some coffee and get my computer up and running. I’ll check your schedule to see whether you have any meetings, and then I’ll start on this mess.”
“Okay, whatever you think best,” I said. “I already know of one meeting. Forrest Wyatt and I are meeting with the library staff at nine thirty. Until then Diesel and I will be trying to sort out the mess in the other office.”
“In your office,” she said with a slight smile. “Better get used to that, because it’s going to be yours for a while.”
I responded with a rueful grin. “You’re right. We’ll be sorting out the mess in my office. Come on, boy.” I headed toward my door. Diesel, however, had other plans. He went to Melba and meowed.
“I’m okay, sweet boy,” she said. “Why don’t you come with me and help me make the coffee?” He meowed again.
“Okay, you two,” I said. “Looks like you have your own assistant.” I watched as the two of them walked out of the room. Having Diesel around would help cheer Melba up, I knew.
I stepped around the papers strewn over the floor as best I could and worked my way into my office. I set my briefcase down in a chair near the door, pulled off my jacket and hung it on the back of the chair, and surveyed the room, trying to decide where to start.
About forty-five minutes and one cup of coffee later, I had managed to get things tidied away. Books were back on the shelves, and papers stacked neatly on the desk. Melba and I would have to go through them later to get them properly sorted, but at least they were off the floor.
I made notes as questions occurred to me, and I called Forrest’s office and spoke with his assistant about gaining access to Reilly’s work e-mail. I knew our campus IT department wouldn’t make it happen without the proper authorization, and the sooner that happened, the better. I had to know what Reilly had been doing during his brief tenure as interim director.
Plus it might shed light on his murder.
That, too, I acknowledged to myself. I was sure the sheriff’s department would be seeking access to Reilly’s e-mails and work files also.
Kanesha Berry told me so when she showed up about twenty minutes before my meeting with Forrest and the library staff. She had with her another deputy and a person from campus IT, and they were going to copy all the files from Reilly’s computer, she informed me.