Hangman's Root by Susan Wittig Albert

Redford movie on television. Because Robert Redford always makes me feel sexy, and because Brian was still in San Antonio with his mother, McQuaid stayed all night.
    If the day had been ordinary, the night was extraordinary. "Does it strike you," McQuaid said, retrieving the blanket from the floor, "that sex gets better all the time?"
    I yawned. "I guess so," I murmured, half asleep.
    "Good." He gave me a friendly pat on the rump. "I'd hate for us to find sex boring on the eve of our moving in together."
    He climbed under the blanket, pulled me up against him spoon style, and fell asleep almost immediately. But his remark

    had jolted me awake. I lay there for a long time, alternating between wondering what it would be like to sleep with McQuaid every night, worrying what Brian would think of our sleeping together, and wishing that McQuaid's landlord would say it had all been a terrible mistake and that of course they could renew the lease.
    Wednesday was like Tuesday, only more so. McQuaid went night-fishing at Canyon Lake with a buddy from the Pecan Springs PD, so I got more sleep. On Thursday morning, I woke up early, did some garden work, and settled down to another day in the shop. McQuaid called just before lunch to tell me he'd turned up a couple of possible houses and to ask whether he could pick me up at seven that evening for a look. I had just put the phone down when Dottie called. Her voice was tense and even grittier than usual.
    "I got another letter," she said without preamble. "Can you come?"
    "Come where?"
    "My office. And while you're here, there are a couple of other things you ought to see."
    "I thought this was spring break."
    Dottie's laugh was short, abrasive. "The students get the break. I get to grade papers. Noah's Ark, first floor, two doors down from the chairman's office. Come in by the quad entrance—I want you to see what's going on in front of the building."
    "What is it?"
    "Just come."
    "Let me check with Ruby," I said. I wasn't sure what I could do about the letters, but I had to admit to being curious about them, and about whatever was happening on the quad.
    I put the phone down and went to the connecting door. Ruby was arranging an artful display of crystal balls. "Can you mind the shop for an hour?" I asked.

    "Sure," Ruby said. She turned around, holding a crystal ball. "I've decided to have a family get-together tomorrow night. Can you come?"
    I looked at her suspiciously. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You're bringing Amy out of the closet."
    Ruby tossed her head. "Mother will be there, and Shannon, and Ramona was coming down from Dallas for the weekend anyway. My mother, my sister, and my two daughters, ^nt you don't have to come."
    I hedged. "I didn't say I didn't want to."
    "Good." She rubbed the ball with her sleeve. "You can come early and help with the food. We're going to have a sit-down dinner. That way, we can all get to know one another. Get to know Amy, that is."
    "Ruby," I said, "why don't you look in that crystal ball and ask whether this is a good idea? Maybe Amy doesn't want you to know her."
    Ruby was indignant. "Of course she does. Why else would she go to all the trouble of finding me?"
    "I won't be gone long," I said, and went back to tell Dottie I was on my way.
    Central Texas State University started out around the turn of the century as a teachers' college. Its major growth spurt happened when the baby boomers got old enough to pay tuition. Now it's growing again, up from twelve to thirteen thousand students in the last year. The sprawling Spanish-style campus is made up of pink and yellow brick buildings roofed in red tile and located on the north side of Pecan Springs, a dozen blocks from my shop. To get there, you go west on Crockett to the square, hang a right, and go north on Anderson until it dead-ends at a

    glass kiosk on a cement island, where a uniformed guard checks to see that your parking sticker is vaHd and you're not wanted for any major crimes, such