shouldnât be her business to look after these girls just because she lives in the dorm.â
âI know, but she babies those girls something awful. Shouldâve had about ten of her own,â Jo Nell said. âAnyway, Willene said Blythe came back to the dorm sometime before dawn to get the sick girl some fresh pajamas, and one of the students at Emma Harris had left a note on her door about the Hunter girl.â
Ellis muttered something that sounded like âshitâ and threw her stitching aside. âWhat about her?â she snarled.
âSomebody thought theyâd heard her crying and wanted Blythe to check on her, but by then the girlâs room was quiet, so naturally Blythe didnât want to wake her. Besides, the sick one was over in the infirmary with soiled pajamas and a temperature of a hundred and two.â My cousin eyed Ellisâs wadded-up needlework with a look of dismay. âA person canât be in two places at once,â she said.
I said I guessed they couldnât and put away the last pan. âWhy does Blythe Cornelius live in the dorm?â I asked.
âCouldnât find a place to rent when she started to work there and the college had it available. I donât think she pays much for it,â Jo Nell said. âAnd it is convenient. A lot of the staff at Sarah Bedford live in faculty housing. That whole block across from the campus belongs to the college, you know, and then thereâs a couple of apartment units as well.â
âIs that where Willene Benson lives?â Ellis asked.
âOh, no. Willene lives right on campus in that little brick building behind administration. Used to be a garage. She and Blythe kind of keep one another company, I think. Blythe came from a big family, but most of her relatives are scattered now. And Willeneâ¦well, thereâs something a little sad about her. Canât quite put my finger on it.â
I told her how Willene had acted when the police came. âCouldnât get out of there fast enough. I thought she was going to have a nervous breakdown.â
âHigh-strung,â Jo Nell said. âAnd timid as a mouse.â
Ellis scowled as she examined the finger sheâd stuck with a needle. âIf Willene Benson had lived a hundred years ago,â she said, âsheâd probably have the vapors.â
Having had her fill of the local gossip and lemon mystery, my cousin prepared to leave. âYou just be careful on that campus, Lucy Nan Pilgrim! No tellinâ whoâs lurking around over there. Until they find that professor or whoeverâs responsible for that girlâs murder, nobodyâs safe anymore.â
But if Professor Hornsby was responsible for killing D. C. Hunter, why did he wait so long to leave? I wondered.
âMaybe he didnât think heâd get caught,â Celeste suggested the next day as we measured walnut hulls into an iron pot and added water and salt to set the dye. One of the women who demonstrated spinning at Bellawood had donated skeins of wool for our experiment, only we cheated, using the gas stoves in the Home Economics Department instead of an open fire. When the water was dark enough, we would simmer the yarn until it turned a rich brown.
Looking thoughtful, Debra, Celesteâs roommate, stirred the potent brew. âWonder when Paula and Miriam will come back to class. I heard they were so shook up theyâve been excused for the next few days. Just thinkâit couldâve been one of us. It couldâve been me!â
âYou saw her, didnât you, Miss Lucy?â Celeste wanted to know. âDid he reallyâ¦you knowâ¦cut her with a sickle? â
I closed my eyes against the thought. âI didnât see any sickle. It was enough to know she was dead.â But I had noticed the plastic container of breath mints that I later heard bore Professor Hornsbyâs fingerprints. However, both Paula and
Tammy Cohen
Tom Bielawski
Ceri A. Lowe
James Swallow
Anna Martin
Wilbur Smith
Steven R. Schirripa
Janice Maynard
Eileen Dreyer
Nancy Holder