Murder to Go

  Murder To Go

  A University Mystery

  Brenda Donelan

  Murder To Go

  ©Copyright 2015 Brenda Donelan

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to everyone who read my first two books.

  Thanks for sticking with me!

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Afterward

  Acknowledgements

  About The Author

  It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. Or is it?

  Chapter 1

  She didn’t mean to hit him with her car. Really, she didn’t.

  As she drove her mud-caked SUV through the historical district in Elmwood, South Dakota, she heard a distinctive thud on the front passenger side of her vehicle. She was so busy looking at the stately home in need of repairs that she never saw the jogger crossing the street in front of her. The jogger never saw her either; because it was dark and she was cruising by with her lights off so as not to draw the attention of those in the older home.

  Marlee McCabe was on her usual stalking run, checking for any sign of Vince Chipperton at the home he shared with his brother. The thirty-eight-year-old professor was interested in the handsome probation officer, and drove by his home several nights per week. She had known Vince for a few years, starting when she worked at the Federal Probation Office in Elmwood. At that time, he was employed with the state probation agency in town, so their paths crossed once in a while. After a few years, Marlee left her job at probation and eventually started teaching at Midwestern State University. Vince applied to be a federal probation officer and was hired there, essentially filling the position Marlee once held.

  Marlee was taken with the tall, dark haired man the first time she met him. He was quiet, mysterious, and did not pay much attention to Marlee, so she was immediately intrigued. Over the years, he was in a relationship while Marlee was single, and then when he broke up with his girlfriend, Marlee had a boyfriend. Neither of them were in a relationship now and Marlee thought if she had a bit more intel on Vince she might be able to capture his interest. Thus, the drive-bys at his home and the frequent stops at his office.

  After hearing the thud and seeing a hint of an orange glove from the glow of a distant street light, Marlee screeched to a halt. She sprang from the SUV, leaving the engine running, and crossed in front of her vehicle to determine the damage.

  “Oh my god!” Marlee exclaimed as she saw a body slumped on the street beside her Honda CR-V. The person splayed on the ground was dressed in a dark jacket and sweatpants. As she knelt down beside the person, she heard a groan and saw the movement of a leg.

  “Are you okay? I’m calling an ambulance right now,” Marlee stammered as she fished around in her coat pocket for her cell phone.

  “No. No, don’t do that,” croaked a male voice. “I’ll be alright.” As he struggled to prop himself into an upright sitting position, Marlee saw that it was none other than Vince Chipperton.

  “Vince, is that you?” Marlee asked, grabbing his elbow and helping him sit against the front passenger side tire of the vehicle.

  “Yeah?” Vince said, not knowing who she was, nor quite comprehending that he had just been hit by a moving vehicle.

  “Vince, it’s me. Marlee McCabe. From Midwestern State University. A friend of Aleece Jorgenson, your co-worker at probation. Remember?” Marlee asked, alarmed and embarrassed, but also a little exhilarated since she was talking to the guy she’d been stalking. And she was touching his elbow!

  “Oh. Yeah,” Vince mumbled, touching his left ankle and then wincing. “Why are you driving with your lights off?”

  Marlee was not going to tell him she drove with her lights off when she passed his house in hopes that she could see him yet not wanting him or his neighbors to become suspicious with her frequent drive-bys. “Uh, guess I forgot to turn them on when I got in my car,” she lied.

  Vince struggled, with Marlee’s help, to get to his feet. His left ankle was either broken or severely sprained and Marlee insisted on driving him to the emergency room. With a degree of reluctance, he finally agreed and she assisted him into her SUV.

  Two hours later, Marlee took Vince back to his house. The X-rays indicated he had a badly sprained ankle that happened when he fell to the ground after being struck with Marlee’s car. He also had some bumps and bruises along his ribcage from the impact of the vehicle. Vince, with the aid of crutches, was able to navigate his way from the car to the sidewalk, up the short flight of stairs, and into the large house. Marlee followed him, insisting she wanted to make sure he got inside without any problems.

  Spud Chipperton, Vince’s older brother, reclined before the enormous television in their living room. “Jeez, Vince. What happened to you? And who’s this lovely lady?”

  “I was out for a run and she hit me with her car. This is Mary McDonald,” Vince said easing himself into the green matching Lay-Z-Boy next to his brother.

  “Um, it’s Marlee McCabe,” Marlee corrected. “And I don’t know that I hit you, so much as you ran into my vehicle.”

  “She was driving with her lights off and her SUV is grey,” Vince focused his dreamy blue eyes on Marlee as he talked. His tone was not accusatory. He was merely stating the facts as they happened, which were wildly different from Marlee’s account of the incident.

  “Marlee McCabe.” Spud looked at her with a creepy yearning in his eyes. As much as she was attracted to Vince Chipperton, she was equally repulsed by his brother. Spud was true to his nickname; he had the physical characteristics of a potato and the personality to match. He wore stained jeans, a red flannel work shirt, and light grey socks that were originally white. The house reeked of the sauce from buffalo wings, and a paper plate loaded with wing bones was balanced on a stand next to Spud.

  “I like your red hair. You must be Irish. Or Scottish.” Spud leered at Marlee like a wolf eyeing a lamb.

  “Irish,” Marlee said, wishing she had put a baseball cap on over her wavy auburn hair before she left home. She always tried to fix herself up a bit before she drove by Vince’s house, just in case he saw her driving by or there was some opportunity for her to stop. Although her efforts in grooming did not make much of an impression on Vince, Spud sure seemed to be taking the bait.

  Marlee recognized Spud, as he frequented one of the drinking establishments where she and her friends gathered. He lurked around the bar, repeatedly asking women to dance until the bouncer took notice and forced Spud to leave them alone. Marlee and her friends were on the receiving end o
f this unwanted attention on two separate occasions. As much as she wanted to stay at the house and tend to Vince, the professor knew she needed to leave before his creepy brother propositioned her.

  “Well, it looks like you’re all settled in, Vince. I’ll check on you later to make sure you’re doing okay.” Marlee inched her way toward the door. Vince was already slouched in the chair with his leg elevated on the built-in foot stool. He was given a pain pill at the emergency room and it appeared he was only minutes away from falling asleep. Spud, on the other hand, was wide awake and ready to chat.

  “When do you think you’ll be back?” Spud asked. He worked as a machinist at a factory and although his work schedule was not that flexible, he could trade shifts with a coworker when necessary. Marlee suspected if she pinpointed a day and time she would return, Spud would be there waiting to greet her.

  “Um, I don’t know for sure. I’ll just play it by ear. Bye.” Marlee was at the front door and left before Spud could engage her in further conversation. She jumped into the small SUV and sped off, this time with her lights in the on position.

  Now Marlee no longer needed to stalk Vince from afar. She had a bona fide reason to go to his house and his place of employment. As his ankle healed, he was eventually able to laugh about the whole incident, although he maintained Marlee struck him with her vehicle. Marlee argued that he ran right in to her car because he didn’t look where he was running. Vince finally learned Marlee’s name and after two weeks of stopping by his home and work, he asked her out on a date. One date led to another, and within the month they were exclusive.

  Marlee was on top of the world and she paraded her new beau around campus like a trophy. The only real problem she found with the relationship was Spud Chipperton. He tried to insert himself into their dates whenever he could manage it. She tired of Spud going with them to movies and out to supper. Three was a crowd. Part of it was loneliness on Spud’s part, but Marlee had the feeling he secretly wished for the demise of her relationship with his brother. Marlee stopped going over to the Chipperton house and just had Vince come to her place as a way of avoiding Spud. She didn’t know how to tell Vince of her dislike of his brother, so she kept it to herself.

  Spud, on the other hand, made his feelings about Marlee very clear when Vince was out of earshot. On several occasions he brought up the names of Vince’s past girlfriends and how beautiful they all were. Spud more than insinuated Marlee would be better off with him than Vince. If Spud couldn’t have her, then he’d make damn sure that Vince couldn’t either.

  Karma will bite you in the ass. Every. Damn. Time.

  Chapter 2

  The spring 2006 semester ended with a bang. Ira Green, the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences and Marlee’s boss, had threatened Marlee with non-renewal of her teaching contract the previous fall because she had failed to comply with his directives. He instructed her not to become involved in the Shane Seaboy murder investigation on campus, an instruction which she promptly disregarded. Marlee also engaged in some questionable behavior, such as asking students to help her with her own personal investigation into Seaboy’s death. The matter went before the disciplinary board and Marlee was allowed to remain teaching until May of 2006. After that, it was to be determined if she would be offered a contract for the upcoming year.

  The spring semester ended and Marlee had one class left to teach. It was held during the two-week break between the end of the spring semester and the start of summer school. The class was called Criminal Justice To Go and involved Marlee taking students on a tour of prisons, jails, treatment centers, and juvenile homes in South Dakota. The class was developed by her predecessor and was popular with traditional-aged students and non-trads alike.

  As much as she detested dealing with Dean Green, Marlee knew she needed to approach him for signatures on paperwork authorizing Criminal Justice To Go. Without his authorization she wouldn’t get paid for the class, and getting paid was something Marlee had become accustomed to. She hiked the stairs in Scobey Hall to the dean’s office and knocked on the door. There was no answer and Louise, the department secretary, was nowhere to be found. Marlee thumbed through the stacks of papers and letters in her mailbox in the outer office while she waited for either Louise or the Dean to appear.

  “Hey, girrrrl,” drawled Della Halter as she marched into the department office. Della was from Georgia and fancied herself hip on the lingo of the day—that day being about ten years earlier. “If you’re lookin’ for the dean, you won’t find him.”

  “Why? Where’s he at?” Marlee wondered how Della always managed to find out so much campus information. She didn’t have close friends at the university and wasn’t aligned with any individual or group. Yet, Della knew what was happening to whom and why. When questioned about the gossip she reported, Della never named her sources.

  “Last I heard he was over at the president’s office, answering some questions about his behavior,” Della said, waiting for Marlee to ask for details.

  “Oh, I figured his rough language would get him into trouble sooner or later. He really needs to watch his mouth when he’s talking to certain people.” Marlee had been the recipient of Dean Green’s various rants, many of which involved the F word and other choice words. She guessed Mean Dean Ira Green used his foul, tactless language when addressing President Ross, and the president was calling him to task for it.

  “Nope. Not even close. Green was accused of sexual harassment by somebody at the library,” Della said, standing just a bit taller with pride that she had information and was able to share it. After all, knowledge was power and that was something Della sought.

  “What? When? Who? At the MSU library?” Marlee could not ask her questions quickly enough.

  “You bet your ass! It was Roxie Harper. You know her, she’s a criminal justice major and she’s also a work study student at the campus library. Roxie’s a non-trad, probably in her early thirties. She said good morning to the dean when he walked in, and he grabbed her and gave her a big bear-hug and a kiss on the lips. No one else was around to see it, so we only know what Roxie had to say about it. Here’s the funny thing: Dean Green doesn’t deny it. He said he hugged her, but denies it was sexual harassment. Said he was just being friendly and she’s taking it all wrong.”

  “Sure, I know Roxie. She’s took my Intro to Criminal Justice class last fall and she’s taking Criminal Justice To Go with me starting next week. When did this incident happen?” Marlee asked.

  “A week ago, from what I heard. Today Green is meeting with President Ross, the VP, and Human Resources to figure out what’s going on,” Della reported.

  “Where did you find this out?” Marlee asked.

  Della raised her eyebrows, sporting a cagey grin.

  “What do you think will happen with Dean Green?” Marlee asked. She had not heard of this type of behavior on campus since she’d been there and had no idea what the outcome would be.

  “Probably a slap on the wrist. He’s not real well-liked by Administration, but he gets things done so they tolerate him. Plus, everybody knows how slutty the campus librarians and work study students over there are, so I doubt anyone will take it very seriously that Dean Green put the moves on one of them. My guess is that he’ll try to say it was mutual, or she encouraged him.”

  Marlee shook her head, knowing all too well how the dean’s behavior would be handled. Nothing would be done to him personally while all faculty, staff, and some administrators would have to undergo sexual harassment training during in-service at the beginning of the fall semester—and probably every in-service after that for the foreseeable future.

  “Well, I have to finish up grading finals for one last class and then I’m done,” Marlee eased her way toward the doorway. Della was not the easiest person from which to escape. If Della wanted to continue a conversation then it would carry on until she was bored or had to tend to a teaching responsibility.

  “I have all of my finals left to grade. I
have the worst fucking gas I’ve ever had in my life.” No topic was off limits for Della. “Not only gas, but I’ve been on the pot all morning. Think I might just go home. The grading can wait.”

  Marlee exited the department secretary’s office, but not before catching wind of Della’s aforementioned flatulence. Holding her breath until she rounded the corner, Marlee hurried back to her office. Her door was locked and she searched for the keys in her jacket pocket. Unattended grades and tests in open offices had a way of becoming compromised, so most profs were cautious about leaving their offices unattended for very long, especially around test times or when grading was taking place.

  As Marlee sat in her office, she reflected on her conversation with Della. The dean had gotten himself into some hot water and, even though he would probably have little in the way of consequences for his actions, he was still being asked to explain his behavior to the university president. A small smile crept to the female professor’s lips as she thought about the stress and troubles Mean Dean Green caused her over the past three years and how he was now getting a taste of his own medicine. She would have to remind herself not to gloat the next time she saw that evil bastard!

  Later that day, Marlee did indeed have a conversation with Dean Ira Green. She stopped by his office again and his door was ajar. He was sitting at a round wooden table piled with maps and atlases. Dean Green held his head in one hand as he slumped over the table, peering at the bevy of maps. For the first time since Marlee had known him, the dean looked defeated. Had he not been such a horse’s ass to her since she started at MSU, she might have felt sorry for him.

  The knock on the door frame brought Dean Green into an upright sitting position. He glared at Marlee with his usual level of disdain. “What do you want, McCabe?”