Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar by Gray Cavender (red scrolls of magic TXT) 📗

thing about not being close to campus had somehow had something to do with wanting to get started with her adult life. This was about stability, in a way…not because she had had an unstable family life…far from it, she’d enjoyed an incredibly stable upbringing. But as a result, she wanted that even more now…for herself, of course, but also for her parents, so that they would know that because of them…or at least with their help…their daughter “had it together.”

She thought, “OK, maybe I’m not upscale like Professor Siemens, but basically…I’m doing great. I have a job that I like, and I think I make a difference with it. I have a nice place of my own after years of roomies, but I’m not lonesome. I have good friends, good parents, and hobbies. I’m even published, like Dad. As Wes would say, ‘the whole megillah.’ I’m happy.”

Jillian toasted herself with her last sip of tea, glanced at the clock and noted the time—she’d give herself 45 minutes, no more. She opened her IPAD and started what would become her Murder Book: her notes and thoughts and evidence about the investigation into the death of Professor Nelda Siemens.

She started by reviewing her notes from the day, including looking at the photos. She was especially interested in going over those from the Professor’s condo. Jillian first googled Herman Miller chairs, trying to ID the models that she’d seen in her office. Her photos helped. She found a chair that she was fairly sure had been like the one near the bookcase: close to $400. She was even more sure about the chair that had been scooted so neatly at her desk under her desktop. Jillian did a doubletake at its price: $3200.

Next, she worked through the photos of the paintings and the prints in the condo. She enlarged each one to better read the artist’s signature. A couple of the prints were listed as being in the $2000 to $3000 range. They were from artists outside of Arizona. Not surprisingly, the paintings ran as high or higher…they were originals, after all. A painting from an Arizona artist was listed at $4000, another at $7000, and yet another—from an artist in LA—was…Jillian visibly pulled back from her screen, then leaned forward to check it again…$20K. Aloud, she said, “Wow!” She made notes about these prices, and reminded herself to tell Wes…this was relevant to the issue of what the condo had cost. Professor Siemens had a very upscale lifestyle.

Next, Jillian made a list of people she wanted to Google, including Professor Siemens (obviously); Billy Gilroy; Jonathan Keefer, Ian Naremore, even Carolyn Patek. She organized her thoughts and ended with her tentative plan for tomorrow.

She assumed that she’d be interviewing Carolyn Patek and Ian Naremore, but didn’t email them to schedule an interview because she’d now be coordinating everything with Wes. He wanted to go to ASU’s SkySong to interview the Moser woman, and they also were interviewing the business prof, David Roberts. And, maybe he would want her to interview the student, Carla Nagel. And, Andrew Paxton was coming in, too. So, her plan for tomorrow had to be loose. She did look forward to seeing both of her former professors, although it would be a little strange since it would be a part of a murder investigation. She didn’t know Professor Naremore all that well, and wondered how he’d take it.

She looked up from the screen and thought again about the last time she’d been in the law library…to check-out a book for a project in Professor Naremore’s grad seminar. And now today… Maybe it was the same building, but it felt so different. A lot had changed since she’d worked on that research paper.

She backed-up her notes, emailed everything to herself as well, and then put away the IPAD. As her final bit of work, she went to her study, canted her head sideways and read the titles in her book case. She was looking on the shelves where she had the textbooks that she hadn’t re-sold. She found her copy of 1984 and, sure enough, George Orwell was the guy in the poster in Professor Siemens’ English Department office.

She looked some more and found the other paperback she wanted…Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrugged. Jillian thumbed through the thick book and noted the places where she’d used a yellow highlighter, or, in some cases had made notes in the margins with a pen. She would dig-through her notes and find those from the English class when she’d read the book.

She turned it over and on the back cover was a photo of the author…the woman in the photos in both of Professor Nelda Siemens’ offices. Jillian looked at the front cover again, shook her head as she had another “who would have thought this” moment, and then re-shelved it.

She glanced at the clock again, but stuck to her decision about not going out for dinner or a movie. She’d read or maybe binge watch something, maybe Outlander. Time traveling with Claire back to Scotland in the 1700s seemed like exactly what she needed.

Jillian wished she’d had a sandwich and a salad at Postinos. Oh well, she wondered, “What’s in the fridge? Or, better still, she smiled, it’ll be a ‘Door Dash night.”

CHAPTER 4

Jillian was nervous as she made breakfast: a banana and raspberry smoothie, fortified with protein powder, since she didn’t know when she’d get to have lunch. Today was the first real day on the job, her old job. Yesterday, she’d hadn’t thought much about it; she’d been running on adrenalin, head down and eyes focused on the tasks at hand.

It didn’t help that she hadn’t slept well…a couple of anxiety dreams, one that she used to have sometimes: it’s the first day of the semester, she’s running late and doesn’t know the room number that her class is in. The other dream was murky…something about a Justice Studies term paper, only it was an English professor who was grading