“Which you’ll have as soon as you find the check we sent you,” Blanco repeated.
Randall shot him an angry glance and continued.
“I can’t fix the boiler without a piece that costs nearly a hundred grand, and thanks to Blanko there, I’m so far in the hole I can’t afford to buy a hammer at the hardware store. If I don’t get what’s due me soon, I’m going to go under.”
“The check has been issued,” Blanco repeated.
“And it hasn’t been received, so cancel it and issue another one,” Randall said. “People do it all the time. You don’t know how, the bank can walk you through it. And if you give me a call, I’ll pick it up myself and save you the postage.”
“That shouldn’t be necessary,” Blanco said. “There’s a lot of paperwork involved in canceling a check, and a fee, and if you’d only—”
“Damn the fee!” Randall shouted.
“I agree,” I said. “You mean the heat has been off for a month now because you’re too cheap to pay a stop-check fee? How much is it? I’d be happy to donate that much to the cause.”
“It’s not that simple,” Blanco said. “But I’ll look into it.”
He scuttled down the hall. Sammy followed, presumably to see that he went to the kitchen as instructed.
“Not that simple?” I repeated. “Is the man an idiot?”
“Just incompetent,” Randall said.
“Interesting,” the chief said.
“I’ve been hearing that sniveling liar make excuses for six months,” Randall said. “You know what I’m starting to think? Maybe the college is having a cash-flow problem. Maybe they’re not paying me because they can’t.”
My stomach churned at the thought. Cash-flow problems at the college? Right now, with me unable to work at my blacksmithing because of my pregnancy, Michael’s paycheck from the college was our only reliable source of income. I had a brief, melodramatic mental image of myself like a character out of Dickens, wearing rags, struggling through snowdrifts, carrying a swaddled infant in each arm, begging for alms.
Hormones again. I took a deep breath, banished the image, and focused on Randall’s problem.
“You need a lawyer,” I said. I reached into my pocket for my notebook, pulled it out, and tore out a blank page. Then I flipped to the section in the back where I kept names and addresses and wrote down the names of two attorneys.
“Here,” I said. “Cousins of mine. Call one of them, say I sent you, and they should do a good job for you.”
“Thanks,” Randall said. He was about to put the sheet of paper in his pocket, then seemed to change his mind and pulled out his cell phone. “You recommend one over another?”
“Victor’s nicer,” I said. “Hermione’s a shark.”
“I want Hermione then,” he said. “Thanks.”
He strolled away, already dialing.
I winced slightly. I wouldn’t have minded siccing my cousin Hermione on someone I didn’t like. The late Dr. Wright, for example. But Blanco? He might be spineless and ineffectual, but I suddenly began to feel sorry for him.
“That was interesting,” the chief said.
“Do you think it has anything to do with the murder?” I asked. “Oh, never mind. I should know better than to ask that.”
“Could Dr. Wright have had something to do with Randall’s problem?” he asked.
“Seems unlikely,” I said. “Blanco’s in administrative services—they deal with facilities. But Wright’s a dean in the English department. I can’t imagine what she could have to do with the boiler.”
“We’ll look into it,” the chief said. “Meanwhile, Sammy?”
“Yes, sir,” the deputy replied. He was still lurking cautiously at the other end of the hall.
“Guard the door to my crime scene,” the chief said. “When Horace Hollingsworth gets here, let him in. No one else.”
“Yes, sir,” Sammy said. He began striding toward the library door. His gangly frame and awkward, jerky way of walking made you overlook the fact that he could move quite rapidly when he wanted to.
“Chief?” Randall again, sticking his head around the corner at the far end of the hall. “About that delivery . . .”
“Can we have them put it in the barn for now?” I suggested. “Whatever it is.”
The chief nodded. Randall disappeared.
“Now, Ms. Langslow, if you don’t mind.”
I led the chief into Michael’s office.
“I’m taking the desk chair for now,” I said, as I plopped down in Michael’s huge leather chair. “You can have it when I leave, but right now, I’m sitting for three.”