Part 16 (1/2)
Hannah poured herself a cup of coffee, carried it over to the table, and sat down in a chair. She took the first lifesaving sip, gave a sigh of utter contentment, and took another. The body was beginning to function again and the brain wasn't far behind. Another few sips and there should be a full lexicon of words at her disposal.
”I couldn't sleep, either,” Mich.e.l.le admitted. ”I kept thinking about that last fight I had with him. I told him I hoped he'd choke on a mango and die!”
”It must run in the family.”
”You told him you hoped he'd choke on a mango?” Mich.e.l.le asked incredulously.
”I said a cantaloupe, but it's close enough. I a.s.sume he was still in the habit of eating fruit for breakfast?”
”Right.” Mich.e.l.le drew a deep breath. ”And speaking of breakfast, I made some.”
”I thought I smelled something good, and I didn't think it was leftover baking smells from last night.”
”I baked Breakfast in a m.u.f.fin, and I think they're cool enough to eat. Do you want one?”
”Of course I want one. Is this another one of your creations?”
”Yes.” Mich.e.l.le went over to the counter and brought back two m.u.f.fins on a plate. ”It's for people on the go, like you and me. It's got bacon and egg and cheese on top. I tried one and they're good.”
”It sounds good,” Hannah said, breaking open a m.u.f.fin, slathering it with b.u.t.ter, and taking a bite. She chewed, swallowed, and smiled. ”It is good, and it's a great idea for the coffee shop. A lot of people feel guilty eating cookies for breakfast, but they'd gobble these right up.”
Mich.e.l.le was silent as Hannah ate her m.u.f.fin. Her forehead was furrowed and Hannah could tell she was thinking about something that was bothering her deeply. ”What's the matter, Mich.e.l.le?” she asked.
”I've been thinking about that book you found in Bradford's office, the one with the poetry he said he wrote.”
”Yes?” Hannah took another sip of her coffee.
”Well, I think there's a precedence for using someone else's work...in academia, I mean.”
”What makes you think that?”
”Bradford used Tim Pearson's work.”
Hannah got up to refill her coffee mug. ”Who's Tim Pearson?” she asked as she carried it back to the table.
”He's Bradford's research a.s.sistant, and he brought me home after the jazz concert on Sunday night. All the full professors have research a.s.sistants. Bradford brought Tim with him from Macalester because they were working on a project together.”
”What kind of a project?” Hannah asked, even though she wasn't sure how important that was.
”Bradford said it was a study of seventeenth-century roots in eighteenth-century English poetry. He told me all about it. He said that it had turned into a really hot topic, and he had to publish fast before some other professor from another college beat him to it.”
”Did he make it?”
”Yes, and it's a real coup for Macalester to have one of their professors lead the field on such an important topic. Bradford told me he was sure he'd be department head next year.”
”Was it publish or perish?”
”I think so. But the thing is, I don't think Bradford wrote any of that paper. I'm pretty sure Tim wrote the whole thing.”
”Did Tim get his name on it, too?”
”No. We talked about that when he brought me home on Sunday night. He told me he didn't expect any kind of credit.”
”Why not?”
”Because it's almost never done. The professor takes full credit, and the research a.s.sistant just does his job.”
Hannah bristled slightly. Inequity always disturbed her. Perhaps it was a good thing that she hadn't stayed in academia. ”That really doesn't seem fair to me.”
”I feel exactly the same way, but Tim told me it was a barter thing, that there was a job as an a.s.sistant professor at the community college and Bradford was going to recommend him for it. That was his payment for all the work he did on the project. Tim said the job was a sure thing and he was really looking forward to teaching in Lake Eden.”
”So Bradford recommended him and Tim got the job?”
Mich.e.l.le stared at Hannah for a moment, and then she began to frown. ”I don't know. I think Tim said the selection committee was supposed to meet yesterday morning.”
Both sisters were quiet for a long, tense moment and then Mich.e.l.le spoke. ”Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”
”I'm almost certain I am. Do you know anybody at the college who'd know if Tim really did get the job?”
”Someone besides Tim, you mean?”
”Yes.”
”Not really, unless...” Mich.e.l.le paused, and then she smiled. ”Let's ask Mother to ask her friend, Nancy.”
”Good idea! Dr. Nancy might know, and if she doesn't, she can find out.”
”I'll ask Mother to call her and get right back to you. But even if Tim didn't get the job, he's really not the kind to...” Mich.e.l.le stopped speaking and gave a little sigh. ”I keep forgetting.”
”What?” Hannah asked her.
”I keep forgetting what you told me after you caught Larry Jaeger's killer. That almost everyone is capable of murder under just the right circ.u.mstances.”
When Hannah and Mich.e.l.le got to The Cookie Jar, they found Lisa hard at work with Marge and Patsy. The first baker's rack was already filled with baked cookies, and more were coming out of the ovens.
”You should have slept a lot later, Hannah,” Lisa chided her. ”We've got everything under control here.”
”But I had to get here before you opened so I could tell you about finding the body, and you could embellish it to thrill our customers.”
Lisa laughed as she handed Hannah a cup of coffee from the kitchen coffee pot. ”I was going to make the whole thing up, but it's better if part of it's true. Herb wants to talk to you first, though. He's in the coffee shop having a cup of coffee. Just go on in and I'll join you in a couple of minutes.”
Hannah took a deep breath and pushed through the swinging door to the coffee shop. The first sight that met her eyes was a reflection of the eastern sky in the plate gla.s.s window of Lake Eden Realty across the street. The sky was a dim blue glow that was only slightly lighter than the darkness that framed the window. Hannah knew that the blue glow would soon lighten to violet, and then to pink. A few moments later it would take on a yellow tone, and finally it would graduate to a golden expanse of brilliance as the sun rose.
”Hannah?” a voice called her from the back table.
”h.e.l.lo, Herb.” Hannah carried her coffee cup to the table and sat down. ”I hope you didn't have a bad night because of me.”