Page 72 of The Botanist's Assistant
“Sorry. It’s this movie about a woman with a great life—handsome husband, beautiful kid, gorgeous house—who gets obsessed with a stranger and he gives her this book and…” Joe stops when he sees the blank look on Margaret’s face. “Never mind.”
“Will you let me into Dr. Deaver’s office again?”
“Of course. Third time’s the charm,” Joe says with a wink.
Why does everyone repeat the same misinformation? Maybe it’s a battle that can’t be won.
Joe tells Margaret that he will go first with his cleaning cart and open the office door since the earlier hour means there may be people about, and that, if the coast is clear, she can slip inside and do what needs to be done.
“I’ll come back in fifteen minutes and lock up, if that works.”
Margaret assures him it will be enough time.
She waits, then follows Joe down the hall.
She can hear the rumble of the cart’s wheels, then Joe’s voice.
“Hey, what are you doing in here?”
Margaret’s steps quicken and she peers around the corner toward Dr. Deaver’s office.
There is the cart in the hallway and Joe is at the open office door.
A woman’s voice returns the question: “What areyoudoing here?”
Purdy?
Margaret hurries forward, no longer caring who sees. She pushes the custodian cart aside and looks around Joe’s shoulder.
There is Purdy standing next to Dr. Deaver’s desk wearinga tight navy-blue skirt and a military-style jacket. Sunlight falls from the windows and touches the top of her head, revealing what Margaret had not realized. Purdy is not a natural blond. A streak of darker hair at the part line gives it away. What else does Margaret not know about her?
Purdy must feel the same because she gasps at the sight of Margaret in the doorway. “How are you here?” she asks.
Before Margaret can ask why her presence seems to be such a miracle, Joe says, “She’s got the notebook.”
Sure enough, Dr. Deaver’s missing research notebook is tucked under Purdy’s arm. The date is visible.
“I’m just returning it for the dean.” Purdy lifts her chin. “He asked me to put it back.”
“I think you’re lying,” Margaret says.
“How would you know whether I’m lying or not? I do all kinds of important work for the dean. I’m not some glorified den mother–slash–cleaning lady like you.”
“A research assistant II is not a den mother nor a cleaning lady, although cleanliness is important. And the reason Iknow you’re lying is because we were there when you snuck in and took the notebook.” Margaret remembers the quick-footed thief and gets an image of the gym bag and sneakers in Purdy’s car. Who would have thought she was athletic or wore anything besides towering heels?
Purdy frowns and Joe raises an eyebrow at what Margaret now realizes is a confession of their own break-in.
“Who cares what you think you saw?” Purdy snaps. “I didn’t sneak in. I had the dean’s key, and why would you care if I took the book anyway? There’s nothing interesting in iteven though you told the dean that Jon journaled. It’s just science stuff.” Purdy tosses the notebook onto Deaver’s desk.
Now it’s Margaret’s turn to frown—until she remembers asking the dean for Dr. Deaver’s research notebooks and that he called them journals, which Purdy must have mistaken for the modern tendency to call diary writing “journaling.”
Purdy looks at Joe. “And why are you dragging the janitor into this?”
“He’s a janitor but he’s also a journalist. He won awards. I checked,” Margaret says.
Now Joe looks surprised.
“What’s that in your hand?” Margaret asks.
