What Janie Saw(78)

                When she’d first been asked to be part of the exhibit, she’d had to refuse. Her tutoring and lab-assistance work kept her from doing any extras here at the university—she needed the money more than she needed to raise her profile. Truth was, sometimes she felt more like a visitor than a student at the university in Tucson. She did most of her art at BAA and she interacted more with students at Adobe Hills Community College.

                This event, the John Tompkins Exhibit, was part fund-raiser, part spotlight. Most of Janie’s peers were into abstract. Janie was the sole wildlife painter. She didn’t mind. It made her work stand out. She had three pieces in the exhibit, all boasting residents of BAA. The one of Crisco the bear was her best, but she’d painted him the most. She’d titled the offering First Step, and it showed Crisco walking out a door—no one had to know it was actually the door of the zoo’s infirmary. Her next piece depicted Cheeky. He was standing by the biggest tree in his enclosure, looking up at a hot-air balloon. It was a vantage-point painting, and a scene Janie had glimpsed on a crisp morning before the first visitor had come through BAA’s doors. She called it There’s No Place Like Home, because she was sure Cheeky was wishing himself somewhere else. The last painting was of her sister’s black panther, Aquila. He was dancing, up on two legs, and looking both regal and predatory. She’d entitled it One Owner Heart, and intended to give it to Katie for her birthday.

                Aquila, as a black panther, was a breed that didn’t tame. And yet, Aquila had always been Katie’s, just as Janie had.

                By three that Friday afternoon, they’d finished setting up the exhibit. Tables were ready for food, chairs were ready for people and the director of the art department was already figuring out more ways to get patrons to part with their money.

                In this case, most of the “patrons” were parents who had already parted with their money. It was called tuition.

                At four, Janie’s phone rang. It was Georgia, and she sounded a bit frantic. “We lost Gabriella, Patricia’s temporary replacement. She fell off a ladder as she was painting a wall. Four broken ribs. Her doctor says she can’t return to work for six weeks.”

                “That’s almost to the end of the semester.”

                “Yes,” Georgia agreed. “She only taught the one class.”

                “My Monday/Wednesday.”

                “The students have made their wishes very clear to the school president. They want you as their teacher, or they want their money back.”

                “I’m not qualified—”

                “They can do it as a special assignment, one semester only, emergency contract.”

                “Is it safe?”

                Even over the phone, Janie could hear the gush of breath that Georgia released. “I’m not sure I’ll ever feel safe again. But the campus police haven’t relaxed. They’re persistent. And now we have community-watch volunteers driving through the parking lot and handing out whistles in the cafeteria.”

                “But is it safe for me to return?”

                “I can’t answer that. One of the deans will be calling you shortly. I’m just supposed to make you aware of the job offer. You’ll need to make a choice by four-forty-five so I can get the paperwork started.”

                “Let me call...”

                No, she wasn’t going to call Rafe. He wasn’t her boss, only her protector, and she could make her own decisions. She’d worked hard to get to where she was: living with Katie, majoring in what she wanted and giving her dreams a chance to become real. She didn’t need a man to mess with her mind.