Free Claws for Alarm by T.C. LoTempio Page A

wrong—I don’t condone murder—but if anyone had it coming, Pitt did.” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, even though we were quite alone. “He wasn’t a very nice man.”
    â€œReally? All the accounts I’ve read paint him as a wonderful humanitarian.”
    Her brow arched. “You believe everything you read? That’s all hype. Publicity.” She waved her hand. “Just ask anyone who took his class. He was a class A creep.”
    â€œYou sound as if you’ve had personal experience with him. Did you take any of his classes?”
    â€œA few.” She nodded. “But I dropped out to pursue my real interest, sculpture. I’ve got loads of friends who have taken his classes, though, and trust me, none of them had a good word to say. None ever actually threatened him, though, until your sister did. I happened to be waiting for a friend in the hall outside that classroom. The door was partially open, and I heard every word, along with about a dozen other people.” I noted her gaze never met mine but rather focused on Lacey’s open closet, almost as if she were taking a mental inventory. “I took a peek inside. Your sister was all red in the face, and she was screaming at the top of her lungs. I’m surprised they didn’t hear her in China.”
    I moved closer, intrigued by the fact Jenna was apparently a witness to Lacey’s impassioned declaration. “And Pitt? How did he react to all this? It sounds pretty shocking, to say the least.”
    Jenna shrugged. She’d moved over to the desk and stood, absently pulling drawers open, glancing inside, then shuttingthem. I was just about to point out the rudeness of her actions when she turned to me and said, “It’s not like any student never had a meltdown in one of his classes before. He just stood there with a sour expression until she was done screaming, and then he picked up the rest of the portfolios and started handing ’em out, calm as you please. I don’t know what happened after that. My friend showed up so I left.” She picked up a snow globe from the desk, shook it absently, and then set it down, letting her fingers trail over the other items on the smooth surface. “I happened to be outside Pitt’s office just last week—my professor’s office is on the same floor—and his door was partially open. I don’t know who he was talking to, but was he mad! I was sure glad I wasn’t on the receiving end of that call.”
    â€œWow,” I said. “Was it another student?”
    She shrugged. “Could have been. I really couldn’t tell. I didn’t want to be nosy.”
    â€œOf course,” I murmured. “By the way, do you know Kurt Wilson?”
    Her head snapped up. “Who?”
    â€œKurt Wilson. He’s supposed to run a local gallery that showcases students’ works.”
    The puzzled expression cleared somewhat, and she nodded. “Oh yeah, him. Let me think. I might have seen him once or twice at a distance. But I don’t believe I ever actually
met
him. My sculptures were never considered for display. Although, come to think of it, I’m not sure he ever actually met any of those students, either.”
    â€œThat seems a bit odd. Who did he make the deals through? Pitt?”
    â€œProbably. Or maybe directly through the office. Like Isaid, I was never selected, so to be honest, I’ve never even gone near the place.” She shrugged and glanced at her watch, then plucked at the sleeve of her sweatsuit. “Sorry, but I’ve got to go. I have a sculpture class in an hour, and I can’t be late. I’ve got Professor Grant; she’s just as tough as Pitt used to be, and her pet peeve is tardiness.”
    She flounced out with a wave and a smile, and once her footsteps had disappeared down the hall I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “She was lying,” I