Puzzles and Pearls

Written By S.W.W.

I recommend reading The Highland Fling Murders, the 8^th book in Donald Bain’s Murder, She Wrote book series, and The Banks O’ Loch Lomond, by Anne Del Borgo, prior to reading Puzzles and Pearls. I believe that the background that they provide really makes this a much better story as it was by both of those works.

I would like to thank Donald Bain for the wonderful character of George Sutherland.

I would also like to extend a special thanks to Anne for the inspiration that The Banks of Loch Lomond provided for this story and for her guidance on this project.

Just a short note regarding continuity. While Banks O’ Loch Lomond was a great influence for Puzzles and Pearls and follows Jessica and George’s adventure there, it was written prior to On a Midsummer’s Eve (which you really should read if you haven’t). Basically, Puzzles & Pearls occurs along a parallel time line or in an alternate reality (or unreality) if you prefer, than Anne’s wonderful Legends & Songs Trilogy even though they share the same starting point of the Banks O’Loch Lomond. Hopefully that makes sense. I suggest that you don’t let yourself get bogged down in the continuity of things and just enjoy the story. I hope you do. -- Stephanie

“Good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.” Jessica was greeted brightly by her next-door neighbor, Stacy Nygaard.

The first flowers of spring were in full bloom. Deep purple crocuses, bright yellow daffodils and a river of red tulips bordering Jessica’s front walk were a welcome sight after a long, bitter New England winter. The refreshing spring air was already being warmed by the morning sun and the early morning chorus of song sparrows confirmed that spring had finally arrived.

“Oh, Stacy, good morning. I must have been daydreaming. How are you this morning?” Jessica finally replied.

“Very well, thank you, but I certainly can’t blame you for enjoying this beautiful weather. I was just heading to the clinic. Can I offer you a ride?” Stacy said as she walked in the direction of her champagne colored Jeep Grand Cherokee. She was dressed smartly in a gray pantsuit and she carried a black Italian leather briefcase. Professional, yet feminine, Jessica thought.

“Thank you, but I think that I will take advantage of the weather and walk this morning. See you at eight?”

“Sounds good. Don’t forget about graduation today,” Stacy reminded her, as she opened the door of her vehicle and reached her briefcase across to the passenger seat.

“No, believe me, I haven’t forgotten,” Jessica replied with delight.

**********

Jessica enjoyed her leisurely walk toward the center of town. The gray storm clouds from the previous night were clearing nicely and patches of blue now dominated the sky above. The sun’s rays warmed her face and a light breeze ushered her along, carrying with it the scents of spring. Jessica walked toward Cabot Cove’s Main Street, where she stopped at the white, Italianate Victorian home, which Stacy and her husband, Michael, had converted into a physical therapy clinic. The front entrance was sheltered by a navy and burgundy awning and Jessica always found the small waiting room to be cheerful and inviting.

Jessica had been receiving physical therapy for the past several months after being diagnosed with a frozen shoulder by her good friend, Dr. Seth Hazlitt. She had dislocated her shoulder the previous year when she and her close friend, George Sutherland were attempting to flee Sutherland Castle to the safety of an old family hunting cabin. Her shoulder had seemed to be healing nicely and the two were able to enjoy a final few days together in Kilcleer, Ireland, after leaving George’s ancestral home in Wick. That was, at least, until she returned home and aggravated it while doing fall clean up in her back yard.

Jessica hadn’t had the heart to tell George about her shoulder. He would undoubtedly feel dreadful if he knew of the pain and disability that had plagued her over the winter months. The experience had certainly made Jessica a believer in people who swore that they could predict the weather based on the aches and pains in their joints. It was not that George had not inquired about her shoulder on more than one occasion, but Jessica was quite adept at skirting the issue, as she saw no point in worrying him. He certainly had much weightier matters to deal with everyday as a high-ranking inspector at Scotland Yard in London.

**********

“Do you have any other questions, Mrs. Fletcher?” Stacy asked. “You have your green Theraband and your new home exercise print out so, you should be all set.”

“No questions at all. You have been very thorough. I greatly appreciate everything that you have done for me,” Jessica said as she rose from her chair and followed Stacy out of the treatment room.

“Well, actually, Mrs. Fletcher, you deserve all of the credit because you did all of the hard work. All I had to do was convince you to do a few things that you really didn’t want to do and maybe twist your arm a little bit. It is always a pleasure to have a patient who is as compliant as you are,” Stacy said with great sincerity.

“It has been a pleasure to work with you as well and please, call me Jessica.”

“I will have to remember that when you are officially no longer my patient,” Stacy replied while glancing down at her watch, “which would be right about now.” They both laughed.

“Let me know if there is anything that Mike or I can do for you while you are gone and enjoy your time in New Hampshire. I hear that you are supposed to have wonderful weather while you are gone, almost like summer.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jessica responded as they passed through a swinging door and into the small waiting room.

“Don’t forget to pack your exercise band and instructions. There is no reason that you can’t do your exercises while you’re gone and don’t forget that quality is more important than quantity,” Stacy reminded her.

Jessica and Stacy shook hands and gave each other a small hug before Stacy headed off to see her next patient, but before she vanished once again behind the swinging door, she turned, smiled and winked mischievously, before adding, “and no more running through the woods with that Scottish inspector friend of yours, even if he is as charming as he sounds.”

Jessica felt her face flush slightly. Had she talked about George that much?

Having officially “graduated” from therapy, Jessica was now ready to get a few errands crossed off her list before heading home to pack for her two-week stay at her alma mater, Harrison College. Jed Richardson would be picking her up at noon the following day for her flight to Green Falls, where she would be speaking in an evening lecture series and teaching creative writing.

**********

Jessica was greeted at the Green Falls Airport by a very attractive young woman from the college.

“I hope that you had a smooth flight, Mrs. Fletcher. Those small planes can get pretty bumpy at times,” the young lady observed as she picked up both of Jessica’s bags.

“Yes, they can, but we had a wonderful flight. We had clear skies the entire way and Jed is a terrific pilot.”

“I noticed he put her down right on the numbers, not an easy thing to do even under VFR conditions like today.”

“No, you’re right, it is not an easy thing to do. Are you a pilot, Miss Ross?”

“No, not me, but I do like to sky dive when I get the chance,” she said, glancing upward at the blue sky above.

Jessica shook her head. “I will never understand why anybody would want to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.”

Samantha Ross ushered Jessica to the parking lot, which was located next to the Franklin County Airport general aviation terminal. She opened the passenger door for Jessica and then placed her luggage in the rear of the vehicle.

“I apologize for the Jeep, but all of the college vehicles were already reserved so I volunteered to drive my own.”

“That’s quite alright, Miss Ross, this looks more than adequate,” Jessica said as she climbed into the navy blue Jeep Wrangler.

“Please, Mrs. Fletcher, call me Samantha, or Sam if you like,” she said as she settled herself into the passenger seat. “I’m afraid that we don’t have much time to have a proper dinner before your lecture starts, but we do have time to catch something quick as we head back to campus. Do you have a preference?”

“Actually, why don’t you choose for us,” Jessica suggested. “I haven’t been in Green Falls in quite sometime.”

“In that case, I recommend the Bread Basket, one my favorite places. The sandwiches are superb and you can get pretty much anything that you want. If we’re lucky, maybe the sherry chicken soup will be on the menu today. If not, all of their soups are delicious and very filling and their desserts are fabulous.”

“Sounds delicious,” Jessica said enthusiastically.

**********

After dinner, Samantha drove them to Meland Hall, which houses the largest lecture hall on campus. It hadn’t changed, at least on the outside, since Jessica’s college days when she had spent many hours attending classes there. After parking in a short-term parking spot in front of the building, Samantha showed Jessica into the hall where she would be lecturing in a little less than an hour. It was obvious that the room had been prepared far ahead of time for her lecture that evening.

“Here is the remote for the projector,” she said, handing the small controller to Jessica. “It is already connected to the lap top so, all we should have to do is insert your disk and you should be all set.”

Samantha booted up the computer, inserted the diskette that Jessica had brought with her and assisted Jessica in loading the proper program. After the program had been loaded, she gave Jessica a quick tutorial on operating the computer and the accompanying audio-visual equipment.

“Now, Mrs. Fletcher, if you don’t mind, I am going to run out and move my Jeep before I get a parking ticket. I will drop your bags off and be back in a jiffy.”

“That sounds fine. It will give me a chance to review a few of my notes,” Jessica replied.

**********

Jessica had spent nearly an hour presenting “Murder Mystery Writing 101” for the Harrison College Life Long Learning program and her voice welcomed a brief respite.

“Mrs. Fletcher, may I get you a cup of coffee, a soda, or maybe a glass of water?” asked Samantha as she approached Jessica at the front of the room.

“A glass of water sounds wonderful,” Jessica replied. “Coffee at this time of night will keep me up until dawn.”

“I am so sorry about the lighting in the rear of the room. I have called maintenance but have no idea when they will get here. Most likely tomorrow. Those poor people in the back rows are practically in the dark,” she sympathized.

Samantha Ross was a beautiful young lady with gray-blue eyes and short, stylish blonde hair. She was tall and athletic, yet elegant. Samantha was evidently very intelligent and from their telephone conversations, Jessica had determined that she was one of the most organized people that she had ever encountered. She was bursting with energy and enthusiasm, which radiated to all of those around her.

Samantha returned shortly with a tall glass of ice and a bottle of water, which she handed to Jessica.

“You enjoy your water and rest your voice and I’ll collect the questions for the Q&A period,” Samantha said. “It has been my experience that if we start with a few written questions, the audience is less timid and more likely to get involved. You probably don’t need the help, but we have had a few lecturers in the past whose topics were…let’s say… mind-numbing,” she whispered the last word, “and it was very helpful.”

“And so, Mr. Heinz, I would recommend that you write, write and re-write. You may also benefit from taking some workshops and it is always a good idea to become involved with other writers in your field. As you probably already know, becoming a published author is very hard work. I hope that I answered your question sufficiently.”

“Yes, you did. Thank you.”

An eager young co-ed in the front row waved her hand enthusiastically.

“Yes, the young lady in the front row,” Jessica prompted.

“Mrs. Fletcher, is it true that you never intended on being a professional writer?”

“You are quite right. I actually wrote my first book without any intention of trying to have it published. I was really just filling time after my husband passed away. It was just something that I had wanted to try for quite some time, sort of a personal challenge. My nephew stumbled upon my manuscript and without my knowledge or permission passed it on to a friend in the publishing world and the rest is history, as they say. I was very fortunate.”

The next question came from a middle-aged woman seated in the center of the auditorium. “Mrs. Fletcher, would you mind signing a copy of your new book for me? I brought it along with me tonight.”

“Certainly, I’d be happy to sign your book. We can do it as soon as we are finished here.”

The question and answer period went much longer than originally planned, but Jessica enjoyed the enthusiasm of her audience and stayed until they had no further questions.

“Mrs. Fletcher, that was absolutely wonderful.” Dr. James Andrews greeted Jessica as she left the small stage. “Thank you so much for speaking tonight. We are so happy that you agreed to join us for the next couple of weeks. I know that all of our creative writing students are looking forward to learning from you.”

“You’re so kind, Dr. Andrews. It is my pleasure,” Jessica replied.

Dr. Andrews was a short, thin man with gray hair, nearly white at his temples. He was dressed in a gray suit with a white shirt and red “power” tie and he wore small, round, wire-rimmed glasses. He was a pleasant man, but seemed to be a bit frazzled at the moment.

“I hate to run, but I have another engagement this evening,” Andrews said. “Samantha will make sure that you get back to your hotel tonight and we can meet for breakfast tomorrow morning at the Trestle to go over your schedule. Say, eight o’clock?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. Samantha is doing a wonderful job. I am sure that we will be just fine. Eight o’clock at the Trestle. I look forward to it.”

“I am sorry about that, Mrs. Fletcher. Dean Andrews is having a hectic week. I am surprised that he even had time to make an appearance tonight,” Samantha commented.

“Thanks quite all right. I certainly didn’t come here to be wined and dined,” Jessica said as she placed her diskette and a few note cards into her briefcase.

“They are revamping the criminology program here,” Samantha explained. “Some type of cooperative effort with the FBI and some other law enforcement agency. Anti-terrorism emphasis, I think. They are working with consultants from the Boston Police Department, the FBI and even Scotland Yard. I am sure that Dean Andrews has been busy rolling out the red carpet for those folks. Politics, you know.”

“You wouldn’t happen to know any of their names, would you?” Jessica asked. “I have a friend who works for Scotland Yard.”

“Let me see, I have a memo here in my bag. Special Agent John Spencer of the FBI, Detective Judy Walsh from the Boston PD and Inspector Thomas Whitmore from Scotland Yard,” she read before returning the paper to her bright yellow and gray backpack.

“No, my friend’s name is George Sutherland. Thank you for checking, though.”

“I think that I have just about everything. Just let me check once more and we can head back to your room at the Kappa Delta house. I hope that’s right because that’s where I delivered your luggage.”

“Yes, an old friend, practically a sister, is the house mother there,” Jessica explained. “Sort of nostalgic in a way. We are looking forward to spending some girls only time together,” she said with a slight grin.

“Let me get the lights and we can sneak out the back way. It will be quicker,” Samantha suggested as she motioned for Jessica to follow her. “I should have asked, but you don’t mind walking, do you? It’s not very far.”

“No, I would welcome a walk.”

“Oh, shoot. Mrs. Fletcher, could you grab that small stack of paper there next to the banister? Sometimes, I swear I would lose my head if it weren’t attached,” Samantha admonished herself.

“I like to keep a file of materials from each lecturer, including any unused questions. You never know what will come in handy in the future.”

As Jessica reached for the papers, the prose on the top page caught her attention.

“Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw,

I dearly like the west,

For there the bonnie Lassie lives,

The Lassie I lo’e best.”

Good old Robbie Burns, Jessica thought to herself. “One minute, Samantha,” Jessica said as she glanced back into the now empty auditorium.

“Is everything okay, Mrs. Fletcher?”

“Yes, I just wanted to check on something,” Jessica replied as she handed Samantha the small stack of paper.

“Strange,” Jessica said shaking her head slightly.

“Aye, the little ditty by Robbie Burns,” Samantha said in a very convincing Scottish accent after noticing the questionnaire that Jessica had been reading. “Paul must have stopped by to catch part of your lecture. He knows that I like Burns. When I first met him, he would leave little notes like that for me. I think he wanted to ask me out on date.”

“Did it work?”

“Not exactly. We’re just good friends, but sometimes I get the idea that he is interested in more than that. Back then he would leave poems and even notes that were written in some sort of code, anagrams and such. It was kind of fun and got me hooked on word puzzles. Actually, we’re meeting for coffee later if you would like to join us.”

“Sounds tempting, but I already have other plans this evening. Maybe sometime before I head back to Cabot Cove,” she offered.

“Whenever it fits into your schedule. I should warn you ahead of time, though. If you do meet Paul, don’t be surprised if he asks you for an interview.”

“Is he a reporter?” Jessica asked.

“Yes, but I hinted that you had a very busy schedule while you were here so hopefully he won’t mention it, but knowing Paul, I wouldn’t count on it. He doesn’t get many opportunities to interview celebrities here in Green Falls.”

“No, I don’t imagine that he does, although, I have never considered myself to be a celebrity.”

“Just the same, don’t say I didn’t warn you. He can be fairly tenacious about certain things.”

“Point taken. I’ve been adequately warned.”

Samantha led Jessica through a small maze of hallways and out the rear door of the lecture hall. The pair continued their pleasant conversation as they made their way toward Jessica’s home for the next two weeks, Kappa Delta house. Samantha was a wonderful hostess and made Jessica feel very at ease. In addition to being highly intelligent, she conveyed sincere interest in their conversation. Jessica certainly looked forward to spending more time with her over the next two of weeks.

**********

“Jessica, you’re here,” squealed Margaret Sands, as they hugged. “I am so excited to see you. You look wonderful, not a day older than the last time we saw each other.”

“I love to hear it, even if it isn’t true. Look at you. You are stunning as ever,” Jessica returned the compliment.

“Well, living in a house with 30 young girls tends to keep you…well, hip, I guess,” Margaret replied.

“Now, I’ve already gotten your things settled. Sam dropped them off a couple of hours ago. You’ll be staying in my apartment, which is right around the corner here. It is secluded from the girls’ rooms and most importantly it has its own private bathroom,” Margaret explained as she led the way for Jessica. “It’s quite a bit smaller than our house, but it does have two bedrooms so, I have plenty of space.”

“It’s charming!” Jessica exclaimed as they entered the small residence. The living room was very tastefully decorated in cream, navy and burgundy. Before moving back to Green Falls, Margaret had owned her own interior design business and even now she still did some special projects, but mostly for friends. She and her husband, Curtis, had moved back to New Hampshire several years ago when he was offered a position as Chairman of the English Department. They had always loved Harrison College. It was a very special place for them, the place where they had met and fallen in love many years ago. Unfortunately, Curtis had been killed in a car accident the previous summer.

“Very warm and inviting,” Jessica observed after they had seated themselves in the living room.

“Yes. It reminds me of Curtis. This room in particular makes me feel like I am surrounded by him. It gives me peace.” Her tone had become noticeably more somber.

“He was a wonderful man, Margaret. I am sure that you miss him terribly,” Jessica comforted her dear friend. They sat quietly, taking in their surroundings for a few moments.

“Well, on to a more cheerful topic,” Margaret said, trying to elevate her mood. “Tell me what you have been up to. It has been forever since we last saw each other.”

They discussed nearly all aspects of their current lives. Jessica was looking forward to summer and working in her garden, had a book tour scheduled for fall and planned to host both Thanksgiving and Christmas at her home in Cabot Cove. Margaret enthusiastically accepted her invitation to visit for the holidays and showed Jessica the plans for her latest interior design project, a renovation of the Wetmore Mansion, located just a few blocks from the college. After an evening of girl talk, complete with a midnight raid on the refrigerator, Jessica and Margaret said good night. Jessica felt relaxed and content as she pulled the soft, warm bedding up to her chin. She drifted away quickly into a deep, peaceful sleep.

**********

Jessica awoke refreshed and invigorated and by six o’clock was ready for an early morning walk around campus. She had dressed in gray sweat pants and a red and blue windbreaker. The sun was rising and created a warm glow across the entire campus. She loved quiet moments like this. Suddenly, she heard the sound of running shoes on the path behind her.

“Good morning, Mrs. Fletcher.” It was Samantha Ross. “Out for a morning walk? I thought that you might have slept in after your busy day yesterday,” she said as she monitored her pulse. A serious runner, Jessica thought to herself.

“No, this is my favorite time of day. I hate to miss it,” Jessica replied.

“Do you mind if I join you?” Samantha asked. “I should be starting my cool down now.”

“Certainly, by all means,” Jessica responded.

They chatted about Jessica’s upcoming creative writing classes and Samantha offered several suggestions for dining and entertainment while Jessica was visiting.

“Well, this is me,” Samantha said, coming to a stop. “I would recommend taking the path along the river. There are some spectacular views, spectacular views for a college campus anyway,” she clarified.

“I will be sure to do that. How far is the walk around campus?” Jessica queried.

“Two and a quarter miles on the perimeter and closer to three miles if you take the path along the river and make a figure of eight.”

“Do you run quite a bit?”

“Only a couple of laps this morning, but if I didn’t run every day, I would have to give up cooking and I love food so, I run.”

“Do you have a specialty?” Jessica asked inquisitively.

“I just dabble a bit,” Samantha answered with a slight tilt of her head and shrug of her shoulder. “Desserts, sweets, anything with chocolate. My mother was an executive chef so I have spent plenty of time in the kitchen. She and her partner owned the Vintage at the Balmoral before she died. He still lets me use the kitchen when I get in the mood and I even help out when the pastry chef needs a hand. It is a nice change from working in the library,” she explained. “Actually, I will be there tomorrow night. You should come, be my guest.”

“That sounds wonderful, but I have no idea what my plans are just yet.”

“I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Fletcher, they always leave one empty table at the seven and eight o’clock seatings, just in case somebody important drops by without a reservation. I’ll put your name down for the eight o’clock reservation just in case you decide you can make it. If you can’t, there is bound to be a walk-in who will take it in a heartbeat.”

“I certainly can’t say no to that,” Jessica agreed.

“Well, I really should take a shower and get to work. It was good to see you again, Mrs. Fletcher,” she said before continuing up the walkway toward her home and disappearing inside.

Jessica continued her walk along the river. It was as lovely as she had remembered it.

After meeting with Dean Andrews for breakfast to discuss her teaching schedule and responsibilities for the next two weeks, Jessica was free for the remainder of the day until an evening social sponsored by the Harrison College alumni association. Plenty of time for the shopping excursion that she and Margaret had planned for today. It would be a perfect time to pick up a birthday present for Mort, some new stationary and an anniversary present for Grady and Donna.

**********

Jessica felt as though she had met every faculty member and administrative person employed by Harrison College within the past two hours. The evening was passing by in a whirlwind. Add to that a full day of shopping and Jessica was nearing exhaustion and ready for a long, hot bath and a good book. Although she secretly wished to sneak out unnoticed, she also felt that it would be impolite to leave without saying goodbye to her host, Dean Andrews.

“Mrs. Fletcher, would you please bear with me for just another ten minutes or so. There are a few more people that I would really like for you to meet. Please, have a seat here at my table. I know that they are running late after a long day of meetings, but they should be here any minute,” he assured her. “I will go and see if I can find them.”

Despite her fatigue and desire to turn in for the evening, Jessica did as he requested and seated herself at his table along with several other people, who she had not previously met. With Dean Andrews gone, they made their own introductions.

Dr. Judith Kraft was an assistant professor in the English Department. She was a pleasant woman with an average build, fine features and red hair. She was dressed almost casually in a bright multi-colored, flowing skirt, white blouse and long, dangling earrings.

Dr. John Osman was a professor of archeology and he would certainly qualify as tall, dark and handsome. Jessica guessed his age to be between forty and forty-five. His face was tan and he wore a heavy five o’clock shadow. His brown suit was exceptionally tailored and was complimented nicely with a white shirt and muted brown tie.

Seated next to Dr. Osman was Teresa Castleman. She was dressed in a short, black skirt with a vintage black tweed jacket, which covered a pink charmeuse blouse. Her make-up had been carefully applied and accented her high cheekbones, but was unsuccessful in hiding the expression of disinterest that she wore on her slightly pretty face. She was by no means unpleasant, but did seem uninterested in chitchat. Apparently Jessica was not the only one who was ready to call it a night.

Seated on the other side of Ms. Castleman was Karen Andrews, Dean Andrews’s wife. She was a very pleasant woman, who seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. No doubt, she was very familiar and comfortable playing the part of hostess.

Seated on Jessica’s immediate left was Dr. Martin Koob. Dr. Koob appeared to be in his mid-forties and had sandy brown hair with just a touch of gray. He was dressed in a navy suit with a white shirt and red and blue paisley tie. Jessica’s initial impression was that he was a pleasant man, but perhaps a bit shy.

Jessica tried her best to carry on polite conversation, but struggled to keep her eyes open and had nearly succumbed to her exhaustion when Dean Andrews finally returned with his guests.

“Mrs. Fletcher, I would like to introduce you to the trio of consultants who are working with our criminology department, Detective Judy Walsh of the Boston PD, Special Agent John Spencer of the FBI and Chief Inspector George Sutherland of Scotland Yard.”

Jessica was instantly jolted awake at his words, but it took her a few moments to completely process the information.

“Mrs. Fletcher?” Dean Andrews said.

After recovering from her initial shock, Jessica finally spoke. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Inspector.” A hint of confusion accompanied her words. Jessica stood, shook hands and exchanged polite greetings with each of the three law enforcement officials.

“The pleasure is most certainly mine,” responded Sutherland, with a mischievous grin and a twinkle in his green eyes.

“The J.B. Fletcher! The mystery writer?” Detective Judy Walsh asked.

“That’s right, Detective Walsh,” Andrews answered. “Mrs. Fletcher gave a lecture last evening as part of our Life Long Learning program and she will be teaching creative writing for us over the next couple of weeks,” he explained. “Jessica’s first lecture was such a success that we have asked her to do a repeat performance before she leaves,” he continued. “Jessica is undoubtedly our most famous alumnus. She has even had a hand in solving one or two real murders, I understand,” he continued. By now, Jessica was feeling more than a bit awkward.

“Mrs. Fletcher, my wife loves your books. She can’t put them down,” Special Agent John Spencer interjected.

“Thank you, Agent Spencer, that is so kind of you to say,” Jessica responded with a kind smile.

“Perhaps Mrs. Fletcher would like to sit in on some of our meetings this week?” Detective Walsh suggested eagerly to the group.

“Oh, you’re too kind, but no, I prefer to stick with writing about fictional crime. True crime isn’t my turf, so to speak. I really prefer to leave it to professionals, like yourselves,” Jessica said, declining the offer.

“All evidence to the contrary, Mrs. Fletcher,” George replied, a thin smile creeping across his lips.

After several minutes of polite conversation, Dean Andrews excused himself and ushered the small contingency toward another group of attendees, but not before George discretely whispered something close to Jessica’s ear. “Meet you outside, by the fountain, in twenty minutes?”

She smiled, her answer was clearly reflected in her now radiant face.

Jessica said a few more goodbyes, located her coat and slipped out of the party and into the fresh evening air. She had no trouble finding the fountain again even after so many years. It had been one of her favorite places to study as a student. No sign of George yet, though. She rummaged through her purse, dug out a penny, gazed into the glassy water for a moment and tossed in the coin. She was so lost in thought that she hadn’t noticed him watching her nor did she hear him approach from behind.

“You certainly are a bonny site for this Scotsman’s sore eyes, Jessica Fletcher,” he whispered softly into her ear before gently kissing her cheek.

“George! What on earth…what are you doing here?” Jessica exclaimed as she turned to face him and gave him a huge hug. “It is so wonderful to see you, unexpected, but wonderful,” she said as she released him from her embrace. Jessica’s face beamed with happiness.

“Well, I’d say that is a tad better than ‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Inspector,’” he mocked playfully. “You had me worried there for a minute, Jessica.”

“I’m sorry about that, George, but I think I dozed off for a second and then seeing you…well, it ‘threw me for a loop,’ as they say,” Jessica explained.

“Aye, the look on your face was priceless, my dear. No harm done, though. I think that my ego is still sufficiently in tact.”

“Now, let me look at you,” he said as he took her hands, raised them above her head and pirouetted her around, admiring her graceful form.

“Ouch,” she cringed.

“Oh, Jess, forgive me. Your shoulder! I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, it’s my toe. New shoes, and not very sensible ones at that,” she explained.

“Are you sure? You know you can always be honest with me, Jessica,” he said.

“I am always honest with you, George. I’m surprised that you would even say that.” She sounded a bit annoyed.

“I do worry about you sometimes, Jessica. I just don’t want you ending up back at the bloody physiotherapist,” he replied.

“How did you know that?” she asked in great surprise.

“Confidential informant,” he answered, trying to inject a little bit of humor into the situation.

After a few moments of contemplation, Jessica asked, “Maureen Metzger?”

“Now, how did you know that?” It was now George’s turn to be surprised.

“Elementary, my dear, Inspector,” Jessica retorted.

“She rang you, didn’t she?” he asked with a nod. She smiled and they both laughed.

“Well, sort of. Mort left a message today saying that Maureen had taken a call from you, but I haven’t had time to return his call to get the details. Now, go on, tell me what you’re doing here?”

George spent the next few minutes explaining how he had been asked, at the last minute, to fill in for a colleague, who had become ill with appendicitis. He had spent three days at Quantico and was to spend the next two weeks with the Criminology Department and Police Academy at the college to consult on program changes, many of which would focus on anti-terrorism training.

“Your turn. Tell me about your lectures and the classes that you will be teaching.” Jessica did so quickly.

“Do you have plans for the remainder of the evening?” George asked.

“The only thing on my agenda was a long, hot bath and then to bed. What did you have in mind?”

He reached into the pocket of his brown tweed jacket and withdrew his pipe. After lighting it and taking a few satisfying puffs, he asked, “Care to take a walk with me?”

“Of course,” she replied as she hooked arms with him. “Would you mind walking me back to my room, though? I should really check in with Margaret so she doesn’t wonder where I’ve run off to.”

“Fair enough, but you’ll have to lead the way,” he answered.

The walking paths were relatively quiet, with the exception of a few other faculty and staff leaving the reception, the occasional student hurrying back to his or her dormitory and a young couple walking hand in hand, seemingly in no rush to go anywhere.

“On your left,” they heard as long, fast strides approached them from behind.

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Fletcher,” the voice said as the figure slowed to a stop next to them.

“Samantha. You’re running again?” Jessica asked.

“I had to make up for taking it easy this morning. Besides, I find running relaxing. Good for thinking, actually,” she said, not the slightest bit out of breath.

“Samantha Ross, I would like to introduce you to a good friend of mine, George Sutherland.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. Scotland Yard, right?” she said, extending her hand.

“Aye, and it is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ross,” he answered, while shaking her hand.

“Please, call me Sam. Sorry to intrude on your walk. It is a lovely night for it.”

“Yes, it is,” Jessica agreed.

“I really should get going, sorry again for intruding. See you tomorrow night, Mrs. Fletcher? Bring the inspector, you’ll have a great time, I promise.”

“I’m not sure what my plans are for tomorrow night, but I will let you know if I…if we can make it.”

“Good enough for me. Enjoy the rest of your walk, Mrs. Fletcher, and mar sin leibh an drasda, Inspector?” she said as she jogged backwards, turned away and then resumed her run with long, smooth strides.

“What?” Jessica asked, confused by Samantha’s final words.

“She said goodbye for now,” George explained. “Charming lass.”

“And a very intelligent woman,” Jessica commented. “And very beautiful.”

“Hardly noticed, with you on my arm, Jess.”

“What do you mean, hardly noticed?” she said, giving his arm a light squeeze. “How could you not notice? She’s stunning!”

“I said that I hardly noticed. A man would have to be blind not to have noticed at all, Jessica. Now, what were these plans for tomorrow evening?” George said in an attempt to change the topic.

“Nothing definite yet, but Samantha invited me for dinner at the Vintage restaurant. Apparently, she will be helping out in the kitchen. Her mother was actually the executive chef and part owner there at one time.”

“Miss Ross is a chef?”

“Not exactly. She is actually a research librarian, but also has a love for cooking. She helps the pastry chef on occasion. After dinner, she mentioned some type of movie that is showing on campus.”

“Well then, I suggest we take her up on her invitation, at least for dinner, unless you already have other plans.”

“No, I’d love to. The reservation is at eight,” she replied.

They continued to walk along the well-lit path until coming to a small river where the trail divided itself. They chose the path that continued along the winding stream with plans to cross at its southern most bridge. Their conversation had slowed. Jessica enjoyed the warm, clear night and George was deep in thought.

“Here it is,” Jessica announced. “Banner Bridge. We almost missed it. This area here used to be completely open, just a big empty field until they built the new library. Kappa Delta house is just another hundred yards after we cross the bridge.”

George stopped as they reached the center point of the small bridge, tamped down the ashes in the bowl of his pipe and placed it back into his jacket pocket.

“Beautiful campus,” he observed. George turned to face Jessica and coupled her hands in his. His kind, gentle green eyes looked downward, peering deeply into hers. To his pleasant surprise, she held his gaze.

“Jessica, I need your opinion on a small matter, but first I need to clear up a couple of things that have been weighing on my mind the past day or two,” he admitted. “Jessica, are you sure that your shoulder is all right?”

“Poor man, what had Maureen Metzger said to him?” Jessica thought to herself.

“Honestly, George, my shoulder is fine. Really, it is, you needn’t worry. It’s good as new. I promise,” she assured him as she elevated her left arm and made a large circular motion with it. “See?”

“Aye, I can see that it is fine now, but why didn’t you tell me that you were having to see a physiotherapist? I seem to remember us agreeing that you were free to share your burdens with me.”

“I wouldn’t classify it as a burden. It was really more of an inconvenience,” she said casting her glance downward and away from his eyes.

“Semantics, Jess. That’s not the point. What kind of relationship do we have if you can’t share these things with me? I’m sure that Seth and Mort both knew about it, didn’t they?” he asked.

“Unfortunately, yes, they both knew. That was unavoidable.” She paused, looked upward and once again met his eyes. “George, I just didn’t want you to worry about me. You have plenty of other troubles to deal with everyday and you certainly don’t need to add me to your list.”

“Jessica, love, you are rarely that far from my thoughts, although I will admit that I’m usually more worried about what kind of trouble you’re getting your pretty little neck into.”

“Point taken,” Jessica said. “Thank you for being concerned about me, George,” she said as she raised herself slightly and gently kissed him on the cheek before turning to continue across the bridge. “Now, what was it that you wanted my opinion about?”

Still holding her hands in his, George gently pulled her back toward him and drew her into his embrace. “In a minute,” he murmured.

His arms enveloped her firmly, but with a certain gentleness. He bent his head downward, letting their cheeks brush slightly against one another. She could feel his warm, slow breathing against her neck and any desire that she had to continue their walk had quickly melted away. George released her slightly, lifted her chin gently and looked down into her eyes. “I’ve missed you terribly, Jessica.” She suddenly grew pale and drew herself down into his chest and deeper into his embrace. George could feel her tremble in his arms.

“What’s the matter, Jess?” he asked tenderly.

“Look!” she exclaimed as she pointed to the near shore. The distinct outline of a human body could be seen lying in a crumpled position, moonlight reflecting off Samantha Ross’s white illumiNITE running vest. Her once beautiful face, partially illuminated in the moon’s glow was trickled with thick, crimson blood while her head lay in an unnatural position.

George climbed down the rock retaining wall to the river’s edge, where Samantha Ross’s body lay in a crumpled heap. He carefully assessed her vital signs, being careful to not disturb anything.

“Jessica, I’m afraid that she’s dead,” George said from below. “We had better call the authorities.”

“I’ll do it. You stay,” Jessica said before quickly making her way to the Kappa Delta house where she called 911. She returned, accompanied by Margaret.

“Oh, my! Is that Samantha Ross?” Margaret exclaimed.

The faint sound of sirens could now be heard in the distance.

“Jessica, why don’t you two stay up there? ” George suggested.

Although Jessica would have preferred to explore things a little bit with George, she knew that he was right. She also knew that if Samantha’s death had not been an accident, it was vitally important to not contaminate the scene. Shortly after Jessica and Margaret seated themselves on a bench next to the walking path, two police cars arrived, with lights flashing and sirens wailing.

“Did one of you ladies call 911?” the young officer asked urgently. He appeared fresh out of the academy and didn’t look any older than his early twenties.

“I did,” Jessica said as she approached the young man.

“You reported a body. Where is it?”

“Down there,” Jessica said, pointing downward toward the river’s edge, where George stood a few feet away from the body, which was now totally in shadow.

“And who the…who’s down there with her?”

“Hey, get out of there, you’re contaminating my scene!” he yelled with the utmost authority.

“Excuse me, officer, but that is my friend George Sutherland. He is a Chief Inspector with Scotland Yard. We were together when we discovered her.”

“I don’t care who he is, I want him out of my crime scene.” He paused. “Did you say Scotland Yard?”

“Yes, I did, Officer….”

“Sorry, ma’am, it’s Rellik, Officer Greg Rellik.”

“And I am Jessica Fletcher.”

“Nice to meet you,” he mumbled as he shook her extended hand.

“Carl, call Jeff and get him down here immediately and then set up a perimeter!” Officer Rellik barked at his colleague, who had also responded to Jessica’s 911 call.

Officer Rellik stood at the edge of the river embankment as George ascended the last few feet of rock wall.

“What do you think?” Officer Rellik asked.

“Pardon me?”

“Sorry, Inspector, but I didn’t exactly know who you were?”

“Greg Rellik, GFPD,” the young officer said as he extended his hand to shake with George.

“George Sutherland,” George replied.

“The lady said you were with Scotland Yard?”

“Aye. That’s right.”

“Well, what do you think, Inspector?” Rellik asked again.

“Hard to see much in the dark,” George deferred.

“I had better at least check for identification so we can notify the parents. Care to take another look?” he offered.

Officer Rellik, followed by George, climbed down to the lifeless form, which lay partially against the base of the rock wall.

“Samantha? Sam! No!” he yelled as he neared her body.

“You knew her?” George asked after a few minutes.

“Ya’, I know her,” the young officer answered faintly.

“Hey, Rellik, you down there?” yelled a voice from above.

“Shut up and get down here, Jeff. It’s Sam!”

“And get the forensics squad here, yesterday,” he ordered.

**********

By now, a moderately sized crowd of onlookers had gathered behind the yellow crime scene tape, many whose morbid curiosity had them craning their necks in an effort to get a glimpse of Samantha Ross’s body as it was removed from the scene by the EMS personnel. Harsh floodlights illuminated the grim scene, as it was meticulously processed by the forensics squad.

George and Jessica had finished answering routine questions from both Officer Rellik and a GFPD Detective, named Jeff Rellik, and had provided their names and contact information for the next couple of weeks. Jessica judged Detective Rellik to be in his mid-thirties. He was dressed in gray slacks, white shirt and dark gray jacket. Jessica couldn’t help but wonder if the two officers were somehow related. Rellik was not a common name and the spelling was a bit unusual. They had strikingly similar features – high cheekbones, firmly set jaws, closely cut fair hair and an air of self-assuredness – and a slight accent, which she could not quite place.

“Inspector Sutherland, Mrs. Fletcher, if there is anything else that you remember, please give me a call,” the Detective said, as he scribbled a number on the back of his business card and handed it to George.

“We’ll be sure to do that, Detective,” George said, taking the card and placing it into his jacket pocket.

“Detective, do you know if Miss Ross had any family here in Green Falls?” Jessica asked.

“No, I don’t think that she did. Her father passed away several years ago and her mother died in a car accident last year. Excuse me a minute, I have to take this,” he said as he flipped open his cellular phone and walked a few steps away. “Just a second, I need to write this down,” he said and he pulled a small notebook from his pocket. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Did you see anything of interest down there?” Jessica asked as they waited for the Detective to finish his call.

“A wound of some sort to her left upper back and some scratches on her neck, but not much else. No footprints. Whatever happened, it happened up here and I doubt if it was an accident.”

“I was afraid of that. Did you notice all of the matted grass next to the walking path and behind the bushes?” Jessica asked.

“Glad you waited,” Detective Rellik said when he returned. “I have one more question for you, Inspector.”

“Certainly, go ahead.”

“Any idea what time it is in London right now?”

“About six in the morning,” George responded.