This story started here. Sheriff Rhonda leaned way over to one side as I came into her office, apparently trying to look behind me. “No, my employer is not here,” I said with a laugh. “And I don’t smoke.” … Continue reading
This story started here. My employer, restored to herself (more or less) by a nourishing meal and a cup of strong coffee, lit her pipe and began to tell us what she’d found out. * * * * * … Continue reading
This story started here. Professor Lebrun lived in a small cottage near the back of the college grounds. When my cab pulled up in front of his house, he was sitting on his front porch, talking with a student. … Continue reading
This story started here. I was interested to discover that taking the jitney did not, as far as I could tell, require an ID. There was a sign over the windshield saying that all students and faculty needed to … Continue reading
This story started here. “I was surprised that you ceded the town to Sheriff Rhonda, even if it was in exchange for the campus.” My employer sipped her coffee and raised an eyebrow, waiting to see what I’d say … Continue reading
This story started here. Sheriff Rhonda’s secretary led us into her office. She was sitting behind her desk, and she stood up as we came in. “I’m suggesting we talk outside,” she said to my employer. “Unlike Sheriff Baxter, … Continue reading