The Skeleton Haunts a House by Leigh Perry Page A

less than Sara did about the situation. We moved on to other topics until we finished eating, and then both headed back to her office.
    â€œI’ll let my students know that I won’t be seeing people in your office after today,” I said. “Just be warned that a few of them will keep showing up for a while.”
    â€œNo worries. I’ll direct them to your office.”
    â€œActually, I’ll probably try to see folks in the Campus Deli. Or maybe pick out a corner in the student center.”
    â€œThat won’t be very private.”
    â€œIt’ll be more private than the adjunct office. You know what it’s like down there.”
    â€œNo, I’ve never seen it.”
    I described it to her, and the more I said, the more appalled she became. “That’s . . . That’s inhumane! How do they expect you to work that way?”
    â€œI’ve had worse setups.”
    â€œThis has to stop. I’m going to talk to some other professors, and in the meantime, you can keep using my office.”
    â€œAre you sure? I feel as if I’m imposing on you and Phil, first at the house and now here at work.”
    â€œIt’s not an imposition—we’re glad to help. I’m just embarrassed that I wasn’t aware of the situation before now. We’re going to do something about this.”
    I smiled, but I didn’t really expect anything to change. Mom wouldn’t just be going against Pennycross administration, she’d be fighting what was being done at colleges and universities all over the country.
    Phil was talking to a crony in his office when we arrived, so Mom went in to join them so I could close the adjoining door for my meetings. As far as I’d been able to tell at a brief glance, Charles had cleared out all traces of his stay, and I hoped that Phil would attribute anything that had been disturbed to my having used both offices.
    There was a knock on the door, and the first of a steady stream of students started flowing in and out. Since I’d handed back three sets of graded essays that morning, I knew there would be requests for explanations of and/or arguments against their grades. It was the time of the semester when good students were buckling down and poor ones were starting to realize that they actually had to work to pass the class.
    I ended up staying past my scheduled time, and even then had to firmly turn away a couple of students who’d come late. I might have stayed even longer, but Mom’s grad student Roxanne showed up and anxiously asked, “Is Dr. Thackery here? I mean my Dr. Thackery. I need to talk to her.”
    â€œI’ll check.” I knocked on the door to Phil’s office and when he answered, said, “Is Mom still around? Roxanne Beale is here to see her.”
    I don’t think Roxanne heard Mom’s sigh in response, but I did and understood it. “I’ll be there in a moment,” she said.
    Usually I resent the fact that as an adjunct, I don’t have the opportunity to mentor grad students, but in this case, I was glad I wasn’t going to have to give Roxanne the sad news. Since I doubted she would take it well, I decided it was time to leave. As my mother came in the side door, I was on my way out the front. “See you later, Mom!”
    I had other work to do and could have gone back to the adjunct office to tackle it, but home was a lot more appealing, especially since I wanted to compare notes with Sid. I still wasn’t sure which one of us was Watson and which was Holmes, but I did know that his empty skull was great for bouncing ideas around.
    Madison was home, so I stopped by the living room to say hello, pat the dog, and steal a handful of grapes before heading to Sid’s attic.
    When I tapped at the door, Sid yelled down, “It’s open!”
    I went on up the stairs to where Sid was sitting at his desk, tapping at his laptop. When I’d first