Page 168 of Say Yes to the Death

“Dr. William Taylor.”

Claire gasped. Dr. Taylor was a notoriously difficult business professor. She and her freshman roommate, Courtney, had taken one of his classes. He had been so upset about a group of test scores that he had thrown them from his fourth-floor office window and told the class they could collect their exams from the courtyard below. Courtney had almost failed the class but had scored a passing grade after the final.

“Do you think—was he?—”

Jack nodded. “He was listed as the faculty advisor for the fraternity. The FBI reached out for questioning at the beginning of the fall semester, and he kept postponing. He disappeared right before Thanksgiving break.”

A realization struck Claire. “I think he slept with Courtney Stevens. She said she had slept with a professor for a passing grade. She was so close to failing that business class, and she was going to need it to continue her major. It had to be him.”

“Every federal agent in the country is looking for him. He can’t stay on the run forever.”

“And we still don’t know how many members of ESA exist?” She didn’t really want the answer to this question. Things had been quiet since July, but the fear of retaliation had never quite left.

“We’re working on it,” Jack said. “And one more thing.”

Good Lord. What now?

“The office of Internal Affairs conducted an investigation of your case. A West Haven cop has been fired for leaking information to the press.”

“What? Which one? Is that how they knew about the notes?”

Jack nodded. “Officer Jordan. He was looking to support his gambling habit.”

Claire sighed. “Well, at least he wasn’t secretly in ESA. Thanks for the update. Could you help Mindy with the turkey? I really need to get everything on the table.”

“Sure thing.” They walked back inside. He took the knife and meat fork from Mindy and began expertly carving the turkey.

Mindy grabbed Claire’s elbow and dragged her into the living room behind a wall, out of view of the kitchen. She handed her a flask.

Claire guzzled from it and handed it back. What was that? Rum? Tequila? It was so metallic she couldn’t even tell. “Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to invite all these people?”

“Because you have a big, beautiful heart,” Mindy said and elbowed her in the ribs. “Plus, we’re celebrating four whole months with no nonsense from ESA.”

“Thank god for that,” Claire said, stepping back into the kitchen and loading the last of the food onto the cart. “Ready to do this thing?”

The doorbell rang. Claire froze. They weren’t expecting anyone else.

Deciding that there were enough people in her house to take on any enemies who may be at the door, she wiped her hands on her apron and walked over to the front door for the millionth time that day. She froze mid-step.

Wendy and Jason stood outside and appeared to be arguing. If they were here to serve her papers for the kidnapping, this would officially go down as the worst Thanksgiving ever. Strictly speaking, Wendy still had an open lawsuit against her. She had postponed their follow-up mediation appointment a total of eight times, which was really throwing a cramp in Claire’s schedule.

Claire opened the door. “Uh, hi.”

“Hi, Claire. Could we come in for a second?” Wendy asked. For once, she wasn’t wearing anything cleavage-revealing or skintight. There wasn’t a single sequin on the sweater dress that hung from her thin frame.

“Okay,” Claire said slowly, pulling the door open wide. What in the hell was going on? Had she not suffered enough?

“Oh, you have a lot of company,” Jason said, gesturing to all the cars in the driveway and voices coming from the ballroom. “Maybe we should come back later.”

“No, I need to do this now,” Wendy said, a strained smile on her face. She took a reusable grocery bag from Jason and handed it to Claire.

Claire cautiously opened it and peered inside. She pulled out a teardrop-shaped glass award. The Planner of the Year award. What the hell?

“I don’t understand,” Claire said.

Wendy looked incredibly constipated. “It should have been yours. I cheated to get it anyway. You saved me from those idiots. I would probably be dead if it wasn’t for you. Today is supposed to be a day of giving thanks, so I wanted to give my thanks to you. Even though you kidnapped me and forced me to eat lemon yogurt.”

“Well, thank you,” Claire said, setting the award on the table and fighting the urge to plunge it and her hands into a pot of boiling water.

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