Sounds of Murder by Patricia Rockwell

stood
up.
    "But what if it’s related to Dr. Clark’s
death?" she said, trembling.
    "Jane Marie," said Pamela, firmly. "If I were
you, I’d forget that you ever saw that photograph. This is
Mitchell's problem. He’s an adult--and head of the department, I
might add. If he believes it’s pertinent to Charlotte’s death, I’m
sure he’ll mention it to the police." Jane Marie seemed to take
solace from Pamela's words.
    "You’re right. Thank you, Dr. Barnes. Have a
candie" She held out the Jack-o-lantern and Pamela grabbed a
wrapped toffee.
    “You’re welcome.” She smiled weakly. After
grabbing her mail out of her slot, she started to go, but stopped
when another thought crossed her mind. She turned abruptly,
frowning.
    "What?" asked Jane Marie, "Oh, Dr. Barnes,
you do think that photo is related to Dr. Clark’s death don’t
you?"
    "I don't know. They did have that fight last
night." Pamela stood there scowling.
    "I know, but, surely that isn’t related to
her death." Jane Marie looked at Pamela. "I mean, I thought someone
came into the lab and attacked her--someone unknown. That's what
Mitchell thought it must be."
    "They don’t know much yet," answered Pamela,
"We’ll just have to wait and see." Keeping her eyes on Jane Marie,
Pamela turned and headed out of the main office, not looking where
she was going.
    As she exited, she bumped into a younger
colleague, Rex Tyson, entering, looking dapper in a grey pinstripe
suit. Rex was Phineas Ottenback’s research partner and the two of
them made a prolific and productive team. However, they were as
different as two professors could be—Phin being the shy, nebbish,
and Rex, the dynamic, gregarious ladies’ man. Pamela knew that
their interests in deviant personality behavior obviously brought
them together as researchers, but they were definitely the
departmental odd couple—although she doubted they were homosexuals,
as both had wives--somewhere. Neither wife appeared with any
regularity at department functions.
    "My God, Pamela," Rex crooned, "You came to
work? I thought for sure you’d stay home. How awful for you to
discover Charlotte like that."
    "Yes," she agreed, "Not at all pleasant."
    "You really shouldn't be here," he reiterated
in his warm voice, placing his hands gently under her elbow. "I
mean, you really shouldn't have come in." He tsk-tsked her with a
sympathetic smile and two very deep dimples.
    "Maybe not," she sighed, "but I'm here now,
so I'm going to stay." She smiled at him. Really, she wasn’t an
invalid, she thought, and she wished people would quit acting as if
she were. She continued on her way up the side stairs towards her
office.
     
    Now, hours later, after her morning classes,
she found herself sitting on her sofa eating her lunch. It was a
lovely thin-sliced turkey sandwich on a crescent roll--with
tomatoes, endive lettuce, and a creamy garlic sauce. Normally,
Pamela would be savoring each delectable morsel. But today, she
just couldn’t enjoy it. Rocky loved being her personal chef and had
created her favorite sandwich, knowing how stressful the day would
be for her. She sipped her orange spiced tea from the thermos he
always packed. He’d even included two crispy Madeleines that he
baked last week. She smiled as she thought of the effort her sweet
husband invested into creating these sack lunches for her as well
as their family dinners. The Army had taught him the basics but he
had taken that knowledge to new heights of gourmet magnificence.
For her, it would be work, but for him gourmet cooking was
therapy—more like an obsession, something like working out at the
gym was for her. Oh, my God, it had been ages since she’d worked
out and she could feel her thighs expanding just sitting
here....
    She grabbed her hair brush from her purse and
walked to her full-length mirror on the back of her office door
(great for checking to see if one’s slip was showing before class)
so she could run her brush through her hair. She