Free Bullet in the Night by Judith Rolfs

nodded. “I was one of her students, although I’m five years older. When I came into her class, we connected instantly. Lenora had opened her home several evenings a week to students. I went every time and often stayed until the early hours of the morning. We had great discussions about similar interests. We both loved nature and the arts and dabbled in politics.” Tucker looked up with wide, smiling eyes. “Did you know my wife was a radical feminist before she became a Christian and tamed down?”
    “Radical? The label doesn’t fit the Lenora I know—levelheaded, strong-willed, conservative is more appropriate.” I added more sugar to my refilled coffee and stirred it.
    “Lenora’s early writings reflect her extreme positions. I respected her for her boldness.” Tucker’s conversation became more animated. “She weeded out students who didn’t agree with her philosophy. Every topic somehow became a feminist issue to her. She was one tough lady.”
    He paused as the waitress set my breakfast platter in front of me. The smell of American fries at a nearby table made me wish I’d ordered potatoes too.
    “Anything else I can get you?” the gal asked.
    “Not right now, thanks.” I resisted temptation and returned my attention to Tucker. “Did her strong feminist views make waves on campus?”
    “Some. Certainly the rigid standards for academic performance she imposed on her students did. You asked me about T. Hartford.” His chiseled mouth formed a rueful smile.
    “Yes, you said you recognized the name.”
    “He was one of two male students who never finished their master’s program on Lenora’s watch.” Tucker paused and rubbed one cheek. “Lenora was the person who recommended dropping them from the program. A couple of years later, she regretted the hoopla from that decision.”
    “Why were these two men excluded by her?” My words turned sharp, demanding. I wanted details. Motive was stamped all over his words.
    “As a matter of routine, private interviews were held with each student. Lenora’s standards were strict. She said she didn’t believe Hartford had the compassion and patience necessary to be an effective counselor and refused to advance him for a practicum or even for continuance in the program. Fact is, she didn’t like that he was an out-spoken macho male. Her decision bore weight. Unfortunately, there were hard feelings.”
    That sounded like the Lenora I knew—very principled, whatever her beliefs might have been at the time. My antenna perked up. “How do you know this?”
    “Lenora was quite vocal about it. She said he complained to the dean. After his expulsion, he made a formal appeal to be reinstated and wanted her removed.”
    “What happened?”
    “As a tenured professor, Lenora was safely entrenched. To question her rejection would have reflected poorly on the administration’s endorsement of her as an instructor, so the chairperson supported her.”
    I leaned forward. “And Hartford...how did he respond?”
    “Got rather squirrelly about it. Followed Lenora around and made threats. The police gave him a severe warning. That was the end of it, as far as I know.”
    “What about the other guy?”
    “He never made a fuss. Didn’t seem to care as much.”
    “How long ago was this?”
    “Seven years, maybe eight. Shortly after we married, she went into private practice, and we moved up here and never heard from either man again as far as I know.”
    I pulled out a tiny notebook and pen from my purse. “Do you recall his first name? T. Hartford is all I have.”
    Frowning, Tucker took his time before answering, “Terrence, Tyler, Thomas...Hartford…yes, I believe Thomas was his first name.”
    “Thanks. I’ll check this out. If he’s still vindictive, we have another person with a motive. Unresolved bitterness can grow stronger over the years. I’m assuming they had some kind of meeting since his name is recorded in her appointment book. Have you told the