Page 123 of Say Yes to the Death

Mindy tilted her head. “You’re sure they’re not bringing your alleged half sister?”

Claire glared at her. “I can only handle two new family members at one time. I can barely even get Charlie to take my calls. The half sister will have to wait.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

To Do:

- Pack disguise(s) and murder binder

- Pay cell phone bill

“You’re sure we can get a custom safe in time? I can’t believe he wants to do this proposal in just two weeks. It’ll take a miracle for us to get everything done.” Claire gathered her curly hair into a tight bun at the base of her neck. She pulled a brunette wig from her passenger seat and yanked it onto her head.

“Ooh, you look hot,” Mindy said. They were video chatting from Claire’s spot in the Venor parking lot. She was headed into the lion’s den to meet with the professor. “And yes, I already called them while you were driving. They’ll move us to the front of the line.”

“You’re a godsend, Min.” Claire slid on an oversized pair of sunglasses and added a mauve lipstick—a shade she would never normally wear. It made her complexion look like a beached tilapia.

“That’s what you pay me for. Call me when you’re done. I’m dying to know what this mystery mark is.”

“Okay. Remember, if I go missing, this is what I was last wearing,” Claire said, panning the camera over her outfit—a Venor University tank top and leggings. “Call you later.” She ended the call and took one last look in her rearview mirror. She didn’t look like herself. Hopefully, if the press was hanging around somewhere, they wouldn’t recognize her either. And if her stalkers really were in ESA, Venor was probably the last place they’d expect her to show up.

Her alma mater looked and smelled exactly as she had remembered it. Claire rubbed one hand over a cast iron bell next to the art building. The bell was worn where decades of students had rubbed it for good luck. She walked to the quad, bending down to touch the vibrant flowers in the school colors—blue and gold. She, Nicole, and Mindy had laid out here for hours, studying for exams and tanning. The bush that Nicole had thrown up in after one particularly crazy kegger looked no worse for the wear.

She ached to be back in those crappy dorm rooms, where her greatest worry was getting an A from a particularly annoying sociology professor.

Claire turned and took a picture of the quad sprawled out in front of her, sending it to the girls with a simple caption: “Home.”

Swallowing her nostalgia, she pointed herself west and headed for the academic center and Professor Burke’s office. A handful of students were in the library, probably studying for their summer session classes.

They had changed the carpet in the business classrooms. The desks were still the same, graffitied with profanity and drawings of boobs. She went down another hallway, passing rows and rows of offices for various faculty. Venor was a small liberal arts school, so most of the non-STEM offices were crowded together. She knew the path well from chasing down her business professors. She found Professor Burke’s door and knocked tentatively.

“Come in,” a dreamy voice called.

Claire opened the door hesitantly, poking her head in before fully committing. “Professor Burke?”

“Yes, dear, can I help you?” An owlish-looking woman sat in a chair, sipping a steaming cup of tea. Her blue eyes were comically large and set close together, but the rest of her was tiny, almost frail-looking. It was hard to get a good look at her because her office was so dark that Claire had to remove her sunglasses. The window was covered by a heavy drape, and a gauzy scarf shrouded her lamp. Was that a fire hazard?

Claire entered slowly, wringing her hands. How in the hell was she going to broach this subject?

“Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with me, professor. I’m a Venor alum. I was hoping you could help me with something. It’s kind of…confidential,” she said hesitantly.

“Oh my, we don’t get to help in a lot of confidential situations in the archaeology world,” Professor Burke said, laughing and setting her teacup down on a saucer. “Most of the people we concern ourselves with have been dead for centuries. Please, call me Sharon. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me something about a symbol.”

The professor leaned forward in her chair, clearly excited at the prospect. “What kind of symbol, dear?”

Claire pulled a glossy 4x6 photo out of her purse and slid it across her desk. She had grown tired of yanking her bra strap every time someone wanted a look at her mark. Plus, it was starting to heal and lose some of its definition.

Professor Burke reached into her desk drawer and withdrew a magnifying glass, making her eyes even larger. She peered at the photo for several seconds. Suddenly, she burst out laughing.

“Oh, dear, you really had me going there for a moment. Who put you up to this, Professor Hummel?”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked.

“Come, now. You can stop pretending.”

“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”

---