The Skeleton Takes a Bow (A Family Skeleton Mystery) by Leigh Perry Page A

has heard of it.”
    “Cool. Thanks.”
    We went on to chat about other things, which was a little awkward because we really didn’t know each other that well, but finding common ground in our admiration of the works of Joss Whedon carried us through lunch. Then Yo headed her way, and I headed off to attend my office hours.
    Given the overly open nature of the adjunct office, and the fact that my parents were on sabbatical, I’d taken to using my mother’s office for anything that was better done in private. I could have used that office for all my personal chores, but if one is living the adjunct lifestyle, it behooves one to maintain relationships with as many other adjuncts as possible because one never knows where a job tip will come from. Besides, I didn’t want to get overly accustomed to the accoutrements of a tenured professor—it would make going back to my adjunct corral all the more difficult.
    Thanks to their long tenure at McQuaid, my parents had adjoining offices, with a door between them. When I’d first arrived on campus, I’d used both offices, but a few months back I’d handed over my father’s to Charles to squat in. He’d had to vacate his previous place after the rightful owner returned from maternity leave, and I’d known him long enough to know that he wouldn’t snoop, and when he moves out of an office, he leaves it cleaner than when he found it.
    I still had a few minutes before students started showing up, so when I heard movement from next door, I knocked on the adjoining door. Charles answered as promptly as if he’d been waiting for me.
    “Dr. Thackery, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
    “I’d like to consult you about something, if you’ve got a minute.”
    “Of course.”
    “A grad student I know got a letter from a group called the Sechrest Foundation. They’re inviting people to apply for grants for conferences. Have you ever heard of them?”
    “Had you asked me just a few hours ago, I would have answered in the negative, but just today Dr. Goodwin mentioned that she’d received a similar letter.”
    “She’s in your department, isn’t she?”
    Charles nodded. “Her period is Colonial America.”
    “Interesting. My friend is in anthro, and she says grad students in other departments got letters, too. You didn’t get one, did you?”
    “Not as of today. And you?”
    I shook my head. “Maybe it’s a new foundation. Is Dr. Goodwin going to call them?”
    “She wasn’t sure—like your friend, she was hoping to learn more about the organization first.”
    “We’re a cautious bunch, aren’t we? Let me know if you hear anything else about them, okay?”
    “With pleasure.”
    There was a knock on the other door to my office, the one leading to the hallway. “Students await,” I said. “Any bets on how many will be asking for extra credit?” There were always students who spent more time begging extra credit than they would have spent doing a decent job on the original assignments.
    “This late in the semester . . .” He rubbed his chin speculatively. “I would venture forty percent, plus or minus five percent.”
    “I’m betting it’ll be more like sixty, but that’s only because I saw the last batch of grades. Whoever is furthest away brings doughnuts tomorrow?”
    “It’s a wager.”
    We shook hands, and I went on to my meetings. When the last student left, I told Charles that I wanted mine chocolate iced, with sprinkles.

10
    M adison must have been hungry that night. By the time I got home, she had thawed out some stew we’d frozen a couple of weeks back and had rice ready to serve. She hadn’t done anything with the salad fixings that had also been intended for the night’s meal, but I wasn’t about to criticize her. It might discourage her from doing it again.
    I was glad when Sid joined us at the table, even though I knew he’d be slipping illicit scraps to Byron again, because it was the first chance I’d had to talk to him about