Package Deal(66)
“Couldn’t you interview another psychiatrist, maybe someone from Seattle? Someone who can give general examples?”
Marcus took the manuscript from her and made notes in the margins. “Let me see what I can do. We need to get this published. Other parents deserve to know what to look out for—so what happened to Cecelia doesn’t happen to their little girls. Or boys.”
“I appreciate your desire to alert people, but not at her expense.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t want anything that will hurt Cece or make people act differently around her.”
“Let me get back to you on this.” He hugged her. “Trust me. You know I don’t want to hurt her.”
“I know that, but this is such a small town.”
When he returned the next day, he had created a sidebar after conducting a phone interview with a child psychiatrist in the Seattle area. The examples given were pertinent, but in no way related to Cecelia’s experience.When Amanda read the revision, she smiled and gave Marcus a hug.
“It’s brilliant. Where are you submitting this?” She kissed him.
“To the local rag.”
“I think if you made some changes and altered the first paragraph, you could send it to a national magazine. You said you’ve been wanting to do that.”
He nodded. “But I don’t have a reputation outside our area. How do I go about it?”
“I know some editors who might be interested. Let me get you their names.”
He kissed her and wanted to do more, but she stopped him when Cecelia called her name.
Amanda came back downstairs moments later and handed him a page with several names and addresses on it.
“Mention that I suggested you inquire. That should at least get you a reading.”
“Great!” He left the house buoyed by her encouragement, but still worried that no one seemed to know or care where Carlton was.
Chapter 12
“Excuse me. I don’t think we’ve met.” The man adjusted his pace to walk with Amanda on her way to the department. “If all the faculty look like you, I’m going to enjoy my time here.” He beamed down at her. “Or are you a student—just a little older than most?”
Amanda turned toward the mellifluous voice. He was tall—she estimated around six foot six. At their last faculty meeting, Scott had said several faculty members had interviewed a former basketball star with a semipro team. That must be why he was the subject of so many conversations—that and his contract to write a series of murder mysteries. Evan Workman’s blond hair glowed in the late afternoon July sun as he walked beside her.
What was it Tricia had said when Amanda had called to learn more after having missed an opportunity to interview him? “People around here call him a latter-day Greek god. You’ll see. He’s handsome to the point of gaga-ness, and brilliant according to my pals who were at the writer’s workshop—and he’s as great in bed as he is on the basketball court.”
“You’re a naughty girl, Tricia. When are you going to get real about your writing instead of thinking you can sleep your way into a successful career?”
“Did I say I slept with him? Why do you always jump to that conclusion?”
“I think you know the answer to that question.”
“Well, all I’ll say is that’s probably jealousy from people who wish they had. But if he asks, why don’t you try him out—see if the rumors are true. Aren’t you still single?”
Amanda craned her neck and looked up into his face, his green eyes reminding her of a cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. “You must be Evan Workman.”
He nodded. “And you are?”
“Amanda Gardner, English department. Greg said you would be here today—for final interviews. I suspect you’ll have lots of coeds in your classes this fall, assuming you’re offered a spot and you accept.”
“They want to learn how to write fiction?” He smirked and he touched his reddish mustache with one recently-manicured nail.
He looked to Amanda as if he was preening. “Some might. I suspect most will want to tell their mothers they know a mystery writer.” She turned toward the departmental office. “Are you seeing the dean and the other administrators today?”
He shook his head. “No, those meetings are done. Just the last of the departmental gigs now.”He opened the outer door for her. “And here we are.”
After he entered the chairman’s office, she unlocked her office door and sat down in the big chair. Seeing the smaller one nearby reminded her of Cecelia’s comments about Carlton. Beatrice had said she’d cleared the man’s things from the room, and moved her supplies from the oversized desk to this one, for which Amanda was grateful. She opened the center drawer of her new desk. Staring up at her was one of Cece’s hair ribbons. She picked it up, unsure when she had placed it in the drawer, and tucked it into her purse.