Digging Up Death

Chapter Five

11:10 a.m. Lyndon University Department of Archaeology

When I walked into the Archaeology offices after class, I didn't expect the tidal wave of emptiness to drag me under. The place usually surged with gossip and flirtatious interns. Not today. And I was glad. I was in no shape to paste on my condolences.

I surveyed the empty lounge. Tribal masks, ancient tools, and posters of Egypt, Mesopotamia, Mayan ruins, and other exotic locations adorned the walls. In the corner of the room the white lights on the fake Christmas tree twinkled. Nothing out of place except the bouquet of flowers on the secretary's desk. But I could feel death in the air, discreet and patient, trying to snare anyone that came close to its web.

Sneezing, I hurried into my office. The stress of the morning's events clung to me, and I sank into my chair. My mind swirled with everything I had to do before Christmas break, but I couldn't focus.

A loud bang drew me from my mental cyclone. I peeked out of my office, searching for the secretary's day-of-the-week polyester dress. Every day Candy Finch wore the same style only in different colors, accented with a matching scrunchy around her salt-and- pepper up-do. Today was Monday. She'd be wearing mauve with mustard-colored flowers that brought out theyellow in her amber eyes. Though she'd never be a pageant winner, or runner up for that matter, she could charm a rat from the belly of a snake. And in Texas, that was worth more than a satin sash.

"Come on, git going." Her ample figure jiggled as she gave the copy machine a whack. It whined to life. My middle warmed like I had a stomach full of Nonna's pasta fagioli. Over the years, I often wondered if I should tutor Candy for her fashion dyslexia and give her pointers in elocution. Yet if I did, I knew she'd lose her appeal. I didn't know why, but without her around the office I'd feel lost.

Breathing deeply, I walked over and placed my hand on her soft shoulder. "Oh, Mari!" She turned and greeted me with puffy eyes and a mama-bear hug. Her Texas twang, soothing. "He was so young. Fifty-five years old! Land sakes, that's only eight years older than me. It don't make no sense."

"No, it doesn't." I sneezed.

"Oh, my word. The flowers." Candy snatched a Kleenex from the box next to the copier and handed it to me. "I'm so sorry, I've gone and left my head. I'll get rid of them."

"No, don't." I admired the red and yellow striped marigolds surrounded by crimson roses. White snapdragons accented the bouquet. "They're beautiful. You didn't mention you were dating again."

"Oh, goodness, no. No one could ever take George's place. They're condolences for Professor Henderson." She wiped her nose with the crumpled tissue in her hand.

"Who are they from?"

She shrugged. "Didn't come with a card. It seemed odd they'd be sent here so quickly after his death, but word travels fast in a small school. Just in case there are more, I'll tape a note

to the door telling them to deliver any flowers to the faculty lounge." Her eyes lingered on the bouquet, then she shook her head. "I'm so tore up. How're we gonna get along without him? He was the cement that held this department together." She blew her nose, and then collected the papers the copier spit out. "I can't believe they're saying he was murdered. Those detectives were in here earlier tearing up his office, whispering about blackmail and affairs."

It didn't surprise me Candy was already up to date on the investigation. She knew everything that happened in the Archaeology Department, even behind closed doors. I tried to steer clear of the rumor mill, but with Candy digging up dirt it was hard to keep my ears clean.

"Sure, the man had his faults, thought the sun came up just to hear him crow. I reckon many would've liked to see him dead, but for someone to go and do it." She shook her head and carried the papers to her desk. I followed, listening to the rubbing of her panty hose, which created enough friction to light her dress on fire.