Smart, But Dead (An Aggie Mundeen Mystery Book 3) Page 18

  Unlocking the kitchen door to the garage, I grabbed a length of heavy-duty twine hanging on the garage wall in case I needed to tie somebody up, pushed it into a pants pocket under my long blouse and slid into Albatross. SAPD’s search police had tossed papers from Albatross’s glove compartment and side pockets onto the front seat and floor, but it didn’t really matter. They wouldn’t have found anything interesting. I flung my binder and purse, with Charlie’s fishing hat stuffed inside, on top of the litter and pushed the button to raise the garage door. The creaking door was sure to get the officer’s attention. I backed out, squelched the urge to wave at Officer Mulhaney and drove to the Basse Road HEB. I parked at the east end of the store where Mulhaney couldn’t miss spotting Albatross.

  I walked in, headed straight for the pharmacy and found a nasal spray bottle. The brand was common, and the plastic bottle was identical to the one Carmody used and the one lying by Eric. I thought it might come in handy. I looked around for pepper spray. They apparently didn’t stock it.

  A floppy-brimmed sun hat on sale near the register caught my eye. I grabbed it, paid, walked to the exit farthest from where I entered and peeked out. To the right, I could see the tail end of Meredith’s car around the corner of the store. She had the engine running.

  Mulhaney slouched in his car past the other end of HEB. I pressed the hat down on my head, slipped out the door, dashed to the corner and jumped into Meredith’s Taurus.

  “Don’t squeal the tires. I don’t want to attract attention. Whip around these businesses, get back on Basse, cut through streets and wind your way back to Broadway.”

  “I’m not sure why we’re doing this,” she said. “Sam will have police at the university anyway. Ditching this officer will just tick him off. He’s right. You are stubborn.”

  “I hate to be told what I can and cannot do and be followed like a common criminal. Thanks for picking me up. Drive to Best Buy between Isom and San Pedro, okay?”

  “Why are we going there?”

  “I need to pick up a couple of good pens. It’ll be open.”

  She sighed. “Whatever. Just don’t break any laws.”

  I gave her a sullen look, but I really couldn’t blame her.

  Fifty-Four

  When we arrived at the school, lots near the main building were full, so we had to park in the back lot and walk. It was just as well. I told Meredith to go ahead. If Sam or another policeman saw her, I asked her to say we brought separate cars. I didn’t want her to get in trouble. I just wanted to be left alone on the way to class. I had a lot on my mind. Donning sunglasses and Charlie’s fishing hat, I took a circuitous route to the main building.

  Before I went inside, I took off the hat and walked around slowly before I entered. Any policeman who saw me could report to Sam that I was safe, well, and practically sitting in class.

  When I entered the room, every pair of eyes flipped toward me. I scanned the inhabitants. Penelope Farquhar stared at me with a mixture of apprehension and disbelief, her face contorted like a mutated mushroom. Meredith came in and took a seat. Everybody in the room looked familiar, including the postdoc scientists sitting on either side of Brandy Crystal.

  My eyes rested on her attire. The orange neon Lycra shirt pasting her body would stop a driver faster than a street sign. Thick mascara on her lashes accentuated her black spiked hair. The image of a porcupine skittered across my mind. A shiny black miniskirt barely covered the tops of her lanky bronze legs. Tanned or not, my legs would never look like that. She’d given up grunge-style socks for flip-flops and orange neon toenails.

  One of the postdocs kept touching her arm. I thought the man she’d kissed under the tree had been taller. She looked in my direction, ignoring the man touching her and the younger man with the large nose watching her chest rise and fall underneath the Lycra.

  When Dr. Hortense Bigsby entered the room, she looked my way and did a double take. Then she cleared her throat, stiffened her neck, adjusted her spectacles and straightened to full department-chair height. She was determined to maintain her dignity, appear professional and lead class.

  “I’m sure you all know,” she began, “about Dr. Lager’s tragic death. He is a great loss to our city and a profound loss to our university and the scientific community. He will be honored at a service here at Memorial Chapel tomorrow at one p.m. The most we can do for him now is to honor him by discussing the subject he loved most, human genetics.”

  She paused for a few beats. Before anyone could formulate questions about Eric Lager, she proceeded to lecture on subjects we’d already covered. She seemed determined to run out the clock without touching the issue of why a second professor had died. She finally ran out of things to say and asked if anybody had questions. Students swiveled in their chairs, their eyes eventually snapping toward me.

  I stood. “I don’t have a question, Dr. Bigsby, but I’m sure you’ve all heard I was the one who found Dr. Lager’s body in the science lab.” You could have heard a molecule drop. “I was indeed in the lab—when I shouldn’t have been—hoping to find reasons for Dr. Carmody’s sudden death. Did he encounter something toxic in the lab? Was there some hint to indicate why Dr. Carmody had been ill? How could such a famous, healthy person just drop dead?”

  That was mostly poppycock, but I was really getting into it. Everybody looked stunned, like they were watching the horror movie Scream 2.

  I lowered my voice almost to a whisper. “I looked around the lab for quite a while. I didn’t find as much as I’d hoped to.” I paused to let the implication of that line sink in. They leaned forward.

  “It was dark,” I continued, “and my flashlight wasn’t working too well. Unfortunately, I was concentrating on my task when I stumbled into…well, you know…Professor Lager.” I bowed my head. There were intakes of breath. I let appropriate time pass before I raised my head, eyes moist.

  “The campus police saw the glow from my flashlight and burst in. Unfortunately, they entered at the moment I found…” I started coughing. “I’m sorry. It’s just too hard for me to go on.”

  After an uncomfortable silence, a student spoke. “We heard they took you to jail.”

  It wasn’t hard for me to conjure up tears thinking about that. I sputtered and wiped my eyes and nose while they waited.

  “What did you find?” one student asked. “In the lab?” She held her breath.

  I started sniffling again. “I’m sorry,” I peeped in a quiet voice. “It’s very difficult for me to discuss it.”

  “Do the police think you killed him?” Brandy blurted. “Are you going back to jail?”

  I let the lingering silence float around the room. People muttered in low tones, compelled to make conjectures before I could even respond.

  When it was nearly time for class to be over, I lifted my chin, closed my eyes and shook my head in pious denial. “The police have evidence that I didn’t do it. That’s why they let me out of jail.”

  Class ended. A few students came up to express their support that I’d been sprung and hadn’t killed anybody. Nobody mentioned Dr. Carmody. Several students looked at me askance, not sure what to believe. They milled around, making private comments to each another. They finally meandered toward the door, not knowing how to solicit more information about who or what killed the two men.

  As the first group reached the threshold, Professor Bigsby raised her arms like Moses parting the sea. She smiled warmly.

  “I hate to leave you all in such turmoil near the beginning of a semester.” Students gaped. “The deaths of these men were tragic, and we will continue to grieve their loss. But, as promising students of science, you need to know that they left us a legacy.”

  People raised their eyebrows.

  “They made a breakthrough—albeit a small one—before they left this earth.”

  “Wow.”
/>   “Awesome.”

  “How wonderful!”

  “Ms. Mundeen may have seen hints of it in the lab.” She peered at me over her spectacles. “But,” she clasped her hands in regret, “the university president and board won’t let me share it with you so soon after Dr. Lager’s death. After we honor him tomorrow, perhaps toward the end of this week or next, I will be able to share the news.”

  Everyone clapped. Hungry for good news, they nodded and smiled at Dr. Bigsby as we streamed into the hall.

  Fifty-Five

  I pointed to Brandy and her entourage and whispered to Meredith, “Let’s have lunch with them and see what we can learn.”

  She rolled her eyes but plodded alongside me to the cafeteria. I made sure we kept up the pace so we’d be right behind them. I saw a couple of guys in plainclothes who might be cops and ignored them. But one came over and pulled me aside. I asked Meredith to go ahead and stick with the threesome.

  The plainclothes cop got in my face. “You’re Aggie, right? Sam said to tell you he’s not happy you ditched his patrolman.”

  “I’m just going to lunch, okay? With a hundred other people. I’m starving. Tell him I’ll be home in about an hour.”

  “Be careful what you eat. And don’t go wandering around campus.”

  Cops were paranoid. “I’ll eat something bottled or from a sealed container. I just want to be a regular student back at school, as though everything was normal.” I whirled and ran to catch up with Meredith.

  We entered the cafeteria and got in line behind Brandy and her fan club. Whenever one of them looked my way between choosing their cafeteria items, I smiled sweetly.

  After they paid, Brandy purposefully chose a small table, but I motioned to Meredith, and we pulled chairs up to the corners.

  “I hate being crowded when I eat,” Brandy pouted.

  “Me too,” I said. “We wanted to visit with our classmates.” The men ogled Meredith, happy to follow my suggestion.

  “I’m Aggie Mundeen,” I said to the younger man who’d previously had his eyes glued to Brandy’s orange Lycra. “We never formally introduced ourselves at Dr. Carmody’s memorial.”

  He managed to tear his eyes away from Meredith. “Phillip Delay. I’m a postdoc in the Lawson lab.”

  “This is my friend, Meredith Laughlin.”

  He scanned her again, waist to face. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “And what is your field?” I asked, trying to regain his attention.

  “Biogenetics.”

  “Ah. Then you’ve been following the work of Professors Carmody and Lager?”

  “Yes. I’ve visited with them several times at conferences. Stanley,” he indicated his friend, “invited me to stay with him so we could see their setup and attend a few classes. And now to lose them both. Such a tragedy.” He stabbed a French fry.

  “I imagine you got to know the professors quite well and observed their lab operations.”

  “Yes.”

  I looked at Stanley. “And you’re a professor here?”

  “A visiting professor in the biology department this semester while Dr. Smith takes her sabbatical. Stanley Bly.” He nodded at Meredith. She acknowledged him and took another bite of her sandwich.

  “I hope to spend more time here,” Delay said. He slid his hand over Brandy’s arm. She glanced at him and batted her lashes. Then she glared at me like she’d like to poison my food.

  I scanned their faces. “What did you think of Dr. Bigsby’s forthcoming announcement?”

  “Fascinating,” Bly mouthed through his French fries. “Carmody and Lager indicated they had something coming up that might interest us.”

  “Do you know what it was?”

  “Well, no,” Bly said. “We have ideas, of course…”

  “Of course. You must stay for the revelation then,” I said.

  Delay slid his leg against Brandy and reached under the table. She didn’t seem to mind. “For the revelation,” he said. “Yes. I must stay.”

  I thought Brandy had probably revealed everything. Perhaps even her lethal relationship with two dead men.

  We had almost finished eating, and I didn’t want to spend too long on campus. Sam might have me nabbed and hauled to his office. We said our goodbyes and carried trays to the trash bin. I caught our lunch mates following us with their eyes. The men eyeballed Meredith. Brandy looked disgustedly at me.

  “Meredith, I need to use the facilities before we leave.”

  “Okay. I’ll get the car and bring it around front. It’s so darn hot, I’ll take my time walking over there. Then I’ll take you to retrieve Albatross.”

  “Great.” I debated with myself on a quick trip to the bathroom. Bigsby’s announcement didn’t sound quite right. Yet she was the most apt to know if the professors had made a discovery. She and Brandy.

  Bly and Delay didn’t seem surprised by Bigsby’s announcement. Had Brandy already told them? Had the three of them colluded to kill Carmody and Lager for their discovery? Whatever Bigsby planned to reveal might be key to who murdered both scientists. Some evidence of the breakthrough had to be in the lab. And the key to exonerating me as a suspect. I had a hearing to face and no evidence to prove that I didn’t kill Eric Lager. My feet started itching.

  Fifty-Six

  I left the cafeteria when bunches of students were leaving. Slipping into the middle of a group, I kept pace, scouting for plainclothes cops. I saw two of them, but they were apparently looking for a single person or two people walking together. Staying with the group until it began to break up, I joined another cluster of people heading in the general direction of the science building.

  In order for classes to continue without interruption, Meredith said the police had agreed not to post crime scene tape at the site. I hoped they’d left the building open for daytime use without stationing officers at the front and back. I also hoped SAPD officers were nearby, scouting the area.

  I glanced up at the clock tower. It was twelve forty-five p.m. I would wander into the lab, casually stroll around to see if anything new caught my eye and leave. I wouldn’t touch anything or inhale anything, and I’d be gone in ten minutes.

  Blending with a group who apparently had afternoon classes in the science building, I melded with them as they entered the front door. There were no officers in sight. I slowed my pace. Once the students moved toward their classrooms, I dashed into the lab. It was quiet. Nobody was there. Perfect.

  Clutching my binder, I patted my blouse pocket for pens and fingered the lump underneath my waistband. I had put the nasal spray in my pants pockets.

  I scooted through the lab into the small room to check the back door. I wanted it left open in case I needed to make a hasty exit.

  Shades were drawn on the lab’s bank of windows to keep out the heat. It was a bit dim in the lab without lighting. I was getting my bearings in the main room, looking around at the cabinets, adjusting my eyes to subdued light, when a figure appeared in the doorway from the storage room. It was Brandy! She’d changed her clothes. She wore the slinky green shorts and stretched pink camisole she’d worn at her apartment. Had she come to rendezvous with somebody in the lab?

  I blinked. Brandy seemed taller than I remembered. She’d put on fishnet stockings and ballet shoes that made her legs seem even longer. When she strolled toward me, boobs leading, I recognized the long stride of Olive Oyl.

  I squinted. “Dr. Bigsby, is that you?” With dark hair spiked to perfection, eyes lined in musky brown, and lashes heavy with mascara, she looked enough like Brandy to fool anyone.

  She twisted her lipsticked mouth into a seductive sneer. “It’s not hard to be a slut if you work at it.”

  “I guess not. But why? Why are you here? Dressed like that?” Had she snapped from perpetually watching Brandy flirt wi
th all the men? I could appreciate that sentiment.

  “You’ve been here a few times before, Agatha. I think it’s time we have a chat. Just a minute.” She disappeared into the small back room, and I heard the door lock click.

  Before I could think what to do, she reappeared. She strode to the front door of the lab, locked it and yanked down the shade.

  “The students don’t need to use the lab today.”

  She turned and walked toward me. As she came closer, I couldn’t help but focus on her camisole. Something was in there. Something had been added to the flat surface I’d seen wrinkle when I visited her office. Falsies. With push-ups underneath. Which meant the camisole was holding it all together.

  She gave me a disgusted look. “You were in here visiting with Eric Lager, weren’t you? Before somebody killed him.”

  “Yes. He took me on a tour of the lab.”

  “He could be a nice man. Sometimes. I’ll bet he offered you V8 juice.” She dipped false lashes over half-closed lids.

  “Why, yes, come to think of it. It was a hot day. The drink was refreshing. Why?”

  “He wanted your DNA, sweetie. He added a little Taq polymerase to make millions of copies of some of your genes.” She hoisted her chin in snobbish annoyance. “How we scientists have the patience to deal with ignoramuses like you, I’ll never know. He separated out genes from your DNA and mixed different substances with your gene specimens to watch the effect.”

  She smirked. “Science always comes first, you know. I thought it was a lovely idea. Come here.” She beckoned with a skinny, crooked finger. “I’ll show you.”

  I didn’t like the direction this was taking. But I might be about to learn about Carmody and Lager’s anti-aging discovery. I followed her to the incubator with my feet itching. She opened the door and peered in at an array of agar plates, each one hosting cells with my genes quivering in various substances.