really upset things. They’ve been going crazy trying to recast the part of Julie.”
Speaking of crazy, I had one of my crazy ideas. “Where do your parents live?” I asked.
“In Virginia. Near Washington, D.C. They both work for the government.”
“So you don’t go home weekends.”
“Oh, no. They asked me if I wanted to come home for a while…to get over the shock, but then I’d miss school. I think I can handle it here, but of course it’s hard.”
“On Sundays my family gathers for brunch at my son’s farm in Chapel Hill. You have a car. How would you like to drive down and have brunch with us? Dr. Pappas is a friend of the family, too. I think I can arrange for him to be there.”
She blushed at my mention of Mark’s name. “That…sounds like fun, but I don’t want to intrude.”
I assured her that we brought friends to the brunch all the time.
She consented, thanked me and then added, “Please don’t tell Dr. Pappas that I was the Shooting Star. That would be just too embarrassing.”
I agreed and gave her directions to Albert’s farm. Then I said, “One last question. Who do you think killed Elise?”
“I wish I knew.” Donna looked puzzled. “I know you’re trying to help Dr. Pappas. I’d like to work with you to find the killer.”
“I’ll take you up on that.”
Chapter 14
The office of Burt Brown, my attorney friend, was plush considering his age, early thirties, and the fact that he had been out of law school only a few years. His parents had been friends of Milt, my late husband, and me, although they were younger than we were. We had known each other since before Burt was born.
Burt’s firm handled cases ranging from murder to immigration and I wanted him to be in at the start with Mark, even though Mark hadn’t been charged with anything yet. He had agreed to meet us on Saturday morning before his golf game, because of the family friendship.
Burt met us in the lobby of his firm’s offices, which were in a new office building in Durham.
“Hi Aunt Lillian, it’s good to see you,” he said, greeting me with a warm smile and a hug.
Of course I wasn’t really his aunt. He wore a golfing sweater and casual slacks. He was about the same height as I am and his exotic good looks, caused by his mixed ancestry, had to attract females, although I wasn’t aware that he was involved in any romantic entanglement. His mother was Malaysian. His parents had met while his father served with the military in Asia during the Viet Nam war.
I introduced Burt and Mark to each other, and Burt led us into his office. In addition to his desk and some shelves filled with law books, the furniture consisted of a sofa, several functional chairs and a large, antique rocking chair with giant arms and a hand-carved back. The seat had been recently recovered. Burt waved us to the couch.
“Sorry, Aunt Lillian,” Burt said, “there’s no coffee because it’s Saturday, but I have soft drinks and fruit drinks. Can I get you something?”
I asked for water and Mark requested a coke. Burt got a fruit-flavored drink for himself and a bottle of designer water for me; all the drinks came from a small refrigerator in the corner of his office. After he had served us, Burt produced a yellow legal pad, the same kind Tess had been using to record notes for me. I was glad to see that Tess used official legal stationery. He sat down in the rocking chair and rocked gently back and forth.
“This chair is over 100 years old,” Burt said. “It still has the original buggy springs in the seat.”
“Almost as old as I am,” I said, looking at it with new respect.
“So, Mark,” Burt said, in a conversational tone, “I understand you’re involved in the case of the coed murder at Crescent Heights College. I read about it in the paper. What’s her name…Elise something-or-other?”
“Hoffman,” Mark said. “Elise Hoffman. I haven’t been accused of anything yet, but the detective questioned me for several hours on Thursday afternoon.”
“And Aunt Lillian tells me you’ve been suspended from your teaching job.”
“That’s right. I found out yesterday morning. The reason it happened so fast is because Elise had previously brought a sexual harassment charge against me.”
“In fact, you were supposed to see me about the harassment on Wednesday, if I recall correctly.”
“I apologize for not showing up.” Mark looked contrite. “That was the day I fell apart.”
Burt had said that with a twinkle in his eye, but we owed him for wasting his time.
“All right, tell me about your relationship with Elise and then tell me everything you did on Wednesday.”
Burt took notes with a Mont Blanc pen as Mark told his story, which went on for half-an-hour. Burt interrupted, occasionally, with questions. I was impressed with his thoroughness and his professionalism. Any time you watch a child grow up you tend to still think of him as a child, even after he has become a fully functioning adult.
When Mark had finished his story, Burt rocked in his chair and stared at the pictures on the wall of him playing golf with people who looked to me like celebrities I should recognize. I would have to take a closer look at those pictures. I wondered whether Burt was thinking about Mark or about playing golf.
“Okay, this is what we’re going to do,” Burt said, returning his gaze to Mark and me. “We’re going to take very seriously the possibility of Mark being charged with murder. Mark, you’re going to carry on with your life and look the picture of innocence. You’re not going to go out of town or do anything that might arouse suspicion. It’s okay for you to work as a bartender. That’s what you were doing before you started teaching and you’ve got to eat.
“You’re going to try to get your suspension at the college lifted. Find out the exact reason for the suspension. If it has anything at all to do with Elise’s murder, I’ll be on top of it like a linebacker sacking the quarterback because, since you haven’t been charged with anything in connection with her murder, they can’t legally suspend you for that.
“If the suspension is for the harassment, I can’t intervene directly because of their own rules, but you can take this approach. Try to get the harassment charge dismissed because Elise is no longer available to testify. Play the recording for them in which Elise said she was going to drop the charges against you. If these people have any humanity at all they’ll dismiss the charge and reinstate you.”
“Everything you’ve said makes sense,” Mark said.
“I’m not through,” Burt said, with a smile. “Mark, I don’t want you talking to the police. If they ask you any questions, refer them to me. I also don’t want you running around playing detective. I don’t want you going to Club Cavalier or talking to anybody connected with Elise, including her roommate, her parents or her boyfriend. You’re going to leave that sort of thing to the police. And to me.”
“What about me?” I asked, feeling guilty because I hadn’t told them that Donna claimed to be the Shooting Star. Maybe I shouldn’t have promised her to keep quiet.
“Aunt Lillian, you’re the last person I would try to tell what to do. Nobody can tell you what to do. You’re irrepressible. In fact, I encourage you to continue your own investigation because you might find something that the police don’t. I heard about your previous exploits as a detective and I’m impressed. If you’re even a little bit careful I don’t think the police will be bugged by what you’re doing because you can fly under their radar. They don’t expect you to be out there and you can accomplish things without them noticing.”
With Burt’s blessing I drove to Bethany again Saturday afternoon. Tess rode shotgun with me and watched the map.
“How do you think I should play it with Ted?” I asked, as we turned onto the main street of Bethany.”
“Maybe I should go in with you,” Tess said. “It sounds to me as if Ted is a very religious person and you’re about as religious as a vulture.”
“That’s not fair,” I protested. “Just because I watch the ceiling whenever I’m inside a church to see if it’s
