Lunch or a nap. But the thought that she was going to be confronting Melinda Sloane Harquist in only a few hours was turning what might be incipient hunger pangs into mild queasiness. And as for a nap, well, while Mr Grey might approve, the thought of getting home and relaxing enough to snooze seemed unlikely.
Gathering her own papers together in the quiet of the empty room, Dulcie thought about Darlene and Rafe â and about calling Chris. Her boyfriend hadnât gotten home before she left, but there was the chance that he was puttering around now. Then again, he may very well have gone to sleep in the last hour and a half. Over the past year, theyâd gotten into a routine: when he worked nights, heâd call her when he awoke. Better to get back into that habit, Dulcie told herself. As much as she wanted to make sure they had made up, she should let the poor guy rest.
On any other day, she would head to the library. Even with the Mildon closed to her, she could lose herself, deep in the subterranean stacks. The quiet, the books, that was what sheâd lived for. Today, however, whenever she thought of her thesis â of
The Ravages of Umbria â
all she could think of was what might have been.
âDulcie Schwartz, youâre acting like a clueless kitten,â she said to herself finally, heaving her bag on to her shoulder. And with a determination that Esmé would have been proud of, she decided to head into the Square and get some lunch.
The moment she stepped out of Dardley, Dulcie felt better. The September day had warmed into perfection, the first hint of autumn color adding a golden accent to a startlingly blue sky. As she walked, Dulcie shed the sweater sheâd been wearing â a rough oatmeal-colored cardigan Lucy had knit â and spread her arms. The day was warm, almost unnaturally so. Her mother was, at the very least, well intentioned. Everything would work out.
âDulcie! There you are.â
At the sound of her name, Dulcie looked up to see Lloyd barreling down the walkway, waving his arms. She waved back and waited until he reached her, panting.
âIâve been trying to call you.â Lloyd wiped a hand over his sweaty forehead. âIâm just glad I remembered your section.â
âWhy? Whatâs going on?â As she talked, Dulcie reached into her bag. Sheâd turned her phone off before the section started. As it booted up, she saw that she had four messages waiting, all from Lloyd. âIs it Chris?â Suddenly the day seemed cold. âIs anyone hurt?â
âNo, no. Nothing like that.â Lloyd leaned over, with his hands on his thighs. Dulcie had never seen her pudgy office mate out of breath before. Then again, sheâd never seen him run. âDidnât mean to scare you.â
Dulcie exhaled, suddenly aware that she had been holding her breath, and waited while Lloyd caught his.
âItâs Rafe Hutchins,â he said finally. âThereâs been, well, I guess there have been some problems.â
âRafe?â She had spoken to the senior tutor barely an hour ago. âBut I was just talking to him.â
Lloyd shook his head. âI donât know, Dulcie. Somethingâs come up, and he called me about fifteen minutes ago. I think itâs got to do with the dean â Dean Haitner.â
âI just saw him go by, too.â Dulcie felt a twinge of remorse. Rafe had agreed to do her a favor, because of his friendship with Lloyd. Had the dean somehow found out about it and decided to punish the tutor? Dulcie didnât know the man, but sheâd heard about his ego. She wouldnât want to cross him, and she certainly didnât want to be the cause of someone else getting stuck in the doghouse. âI didnât introduce myself though.â
Lloyd stopped her before she could continue. âItâs not you. Itâs this Melinda. I gather sheâs been getting threats.
Sharon Kleve, Jennifer Conner, Danica Winters, Casey Dawes