Chapter 4

Later that day, I was in my temporary classroom, which just happened to be in the engineering building. I wasn’t thrilled about the location as my ex-boyfriend was in the engineering department and I did my best to avoid him. Not usually a difficult thing to do, but with me in his building it was inevitable we would cross paths.

At least I was at the opposite end of the building from Jefferson Andrews the Third. Plus, he might not even realize I was here. He rarely paid attention to what happened in departments outside his own, deeming them not worthy of his time. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was clueless to the fact that a murder had happened. Hopefully I wouldn’t run into him. While waiting for my students to arrive and looking over the updated roster, a name jumped out at me. Laura Stevens.

Laura had been a summer student of David March’s, who’d flunked his advanced child psychology class and appealed her grade on the basis that he’d graded her work unfairly. I was on the grade appeals committee and we’d denied her appeal. It left her very angry because she had to retake the class. She’d been very vocal about her dislike of David, of all of us, about how biased and unfair we were. I hoped she had calmed down over the last couple of weeks since that meeting. I hated to start the semester with animosity in my classroom. The first class really set the tone for the semester and I liked to start off with fun. Learning was fun, although it wasn’t always easy to get the students to agree, but I tried my hardest.

A few minutes later the students started to trickle in. I watched for Laura, who finally walked in all smiles, talking to another female student whom I recognized as Lila James. I had both her and Laura in my Composition II class, which was a required course. The class they were attending today was Rhetoric. It was the most popular elective in the English department, although I fought for it to be required every year during program review. I felt it was crucial for all students to be skilled in persuasive writing, regardless of their field of study.

Laura glanced up at me, her eyes red rimmed and puffy like she had been crying, which made me wonder what was wrong, but at least she didn’t give me a dirty look. She then turned back to her friend and continued the conversation, which I thought was a sign she was over what happened.

I could also cross her off the suspect list. She was my height, about five foot four, and slim. There was no way she’d have the strength to overpower David, and I chastised myself for even thinking such a thing. She was just a kid, after all. Laura might be an angry student but that didn’t make her a murderer.

Class flew by quickly, at least to me. I’m sure my students didn’t feel the same way and were happy when I dismissed them. Most of the students couldn’t get out fast enough, rushing out to meet friends or to get to their next class. I was shutting down the projector and gathering my things when Laura walked up to me with Lila next to her making her seem even smaller than she was. Lila was a star forward on the women’s basketball team. Where Laura was petite Lila was tall and athletic. Laura had a frown on her face and she definitely looked like she’d recently been crying.

I smiled at her. “Can I help you with something, Laura?” Maybe she really wasn’t over the grade thing. I sighed. This wasn’t what I wanted to get into on the first day of class. It was old news and nothing she said would change her grade now. “If it’s about your grade appeal—”

“No.” Laura shook her head and I felt relieved. “Do you think I killed Professor March?” she asked, voice trembling. Gone was the belligerent student from summer semester. A scared young woman stood in her place.

My relief was short lived and quickly replaced with shock at what she was asking me. “Laura, why would you ask such a thing? Your issue with Professor March doesn’t make anyone think you killed him.”

“The police think so,” she said, and tears started to run down her cheeks.

I reached for a box of tissues on the desk and pulled out a couple, handing them to her. “What makes you think the police suspect you of murdering Professor March?”

“A detective talked to me and asked me how mad I had been last semester about my failing grade.”

I was shocked, and I was sure it was evident by my expression when Laura rushed to add, “He talked to me like I was a suspect. I guess he didn’t actually accuse me, but his tone implied he thought I was guilty.”

“Laura, that doesn’t mean anything. He’s talking to everyone who knew David. What did he say exactly?”

“See, Laura, that’s what I told you,” Lila spoke softly, trying to reassure her friend as she rubbed her back. Though it didn’t seem to have much of an effect. Laura was trembling.

“He brought up the grade appeal and kept asking me if I had a grudge against him. I mean, I was mad at the time of my appeal, but I got over it. I certainly wouldn’t kill someone over a bad grade. That’s just ridiculous. Who kills people over grades? You have to believe me! I didn’t kill him,” she said, her voice rising and more tears coming. She took a few swipes at her eyes with a tissue.

I did believe her. There may have been a moment when the possibility of her being the killer had crossed my mind, but that was more in jest than anything. As she stood here in front of me, it was hard to imagine her killing anyone.

“Laura, I do believe you. It’s the job of the police to ask questions. I’m sure no one really thinks you killed him.”

“Thank you, Professor, but I’m not so sure. I’ve got to find out who did kill him before I end up in jail.”

“Laura…” I started to say but she had already turned and walked out of the room. It made me wonder why she was so worried she was a viable suspect.