Purl Up and Die (5 page)

Lisa smiled. “Well, it's not that dreadful. But their decisions definitely affect professors' lives and their families. And from what my friends learned, it sounds like that's what happened in this professor's life.”

“What area was he in? What did he teach?”

“He taught anatomy and physiology in the School of Natural Sciences. Several of my friends either had him as a professor or had friends who did. I heard nothing but rave reviews about this guy as a professor. He was smart and diligent and clearly cared about students' learning the subject. He always scheduled exam prep study sessions for students and taught them himself, not handing it off to teaching assistants.”

“Had your friends heard about the incident three years ago?”

“Ohhhhhhh, yeah.” Lisa nodded. “It was three years ago. Professor's name is Paul Smith. Apparently a female student in one of Professor Smith's anatomy classes accused him of groping her when she went to his office to ask questions about the exam. The student reported the assault to a campus police officer. The campus police handed it over to Fort Connor police, of course, and the police department followed up on the complaint. They questioned the student and the professor. Apparently the professor was shocked by the student's accusations and denied them. But the student insisted he had ‘groped' her and tried to do more in his office. She ran away and found the campus cop. That was her story. The professor denied everything. He said she'd come to his office to ask about an exam grade.” Lisa sighed. “Anyway, an official complaint report was filed with the police. Apparently the student didn't want to press charges and go to trial, but the complaint was still there. And my friends said Professor Smith's career started going downhill after that.”

“What happened? Was it gossip?”

“Oh, yeah. Universities are societies unto themselves. Beehives. Gossip spreads like wildfire across campus, especially if it involves a professor. And especially if someone does something against the law. Professor Smith never made full professor after that, and apparently he was on the fast track to making it before the incident. One of my friends said that other professors in his department stopped including him in professional studies. That alone can really harm a professor's career. They also said he started having personal problems. One friend said he started drinking. Even his wife
left him.” Lisa exhaled a long breath and sipped her iced coffee.

Kelly was stunned by the litany of bad things that happened to Professor Smith. “Good Lord! It sounds like that man's whole life imploded after being accused.”

“That's a good way to describe it. I tell you, it depressed me just listening to it. I've never had Professor Smith for a class, but I'd heard many good things about him. Of course I'd seen him around the campus and the School of Natural Sciences. But I have to admit I'm conflicted now. If the student is telling the truth, then the professor has been exposed. But if those accusations were false, then a good man's career and life have been destroyed. And we'll never know the truth, because like Tommy, this is a situation of ‘he said, she said.'”

“It makes me glad I'm not involved in academia. It sounds like a medieval caste system. And your teaching assistants and research assistants are the serfs. Tilling the soil, hoping the nobleman doesn't swoop down and lop off your head.”

Lisa laughed out loud this time. “Whoa, it's definitely not that bad. No one's going to lop off our heads.”

“But careers are fair game.”

“Yeah . . . that's true.”

Kelly looked around the patio garden and saw every table filled with lunch customers enjoying Pete's good cooking. “We should probably go back inside and free up this table. The lunch crowd is heavy,” she said as she rose from the chair.

“Yeah, you're right.”

As they left the shady corner, Kelly noticed Mimi hurrying down the café's front steps and heading in their direction. “Hey, Mimi. Getting tired of air-conditioning?” Kelly teased.

“Goodness, no. I saw you girls out here talking. I'll bet you were talking about Tommy.”

“Actually, Lisa was telling me about a similar incident a few years ago when a female student accused a professor of groping her in his office. A sad, sad story, no matter how you look at it.”

“A professor?” Mimi's eyes got wide.

“Yeah. The incident is similar to Tommy's but the worlds are so different,” Lisa said. “In academia and university life, careers can be tarnished a lot easier than in the real world.”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “Lord, yes. I was never comfortable in that world.”

Lisa glanced at her watch. “How about I tell you what I learned while I'm getting an iced coffee, Mimi? I have a physical therapy client in an hour.”

“And I need to return to my client accounts,” Kelly added, checking her watch.

“Well, then, let's all get out of this heat,” Mimi suggested as the little trio hastened up the front steps and into the blessings of
air-conditioning.

Friday morning

Kelly
polished off the last bit of egg yolk with the last bite of pancake. Yummmm. Nothing could beat one of Eduardo's breakfasts. Every now and then she had to succumb. Succumb to the Call of the Grill, Kelly thought with a smile as she sipped Eduardo's strong brew. Glancing around her small table beside a window in Pete's Café, Kelly noticed Cassie bussing tables close by.

“Hi, Cassie. How'd you guys play against Wellington last night?”

Cassie looked over at Kelly and broke into a big smile. “Oh, we beat 'em. Beat 'em bad,” she bragged. “I hit a triple!”

Kelly laughed softly at the sound of young teenage exuberance. “That's great. Steve and I were both working in Denver so we couldn't see the game.”

“We're playing Longmont tomorrow, Saturday morning at Rolland Moore Park.” Cassie gave the table a thorough wipe. “Where are you guys playing?”

“Steve's playing a morning game at Rolland Moore, and my team will play in the afternoon game at City Park ball field. So I'll definitely be able to catch your game. I'll just hop between fields at Rolland Moore.”

Cassie emptied another table of dirty dishes onto her tray. “I love City Park. It is
so
pretty. I hope we play more games there. All those tall trees. Pete says they're oak trees, and they're really going to be pretty in the fall.” She wiped the table, then hefted the trayful of dishes.

“Can you carry all that?” Kelly asked, pointing to the tray. “It looks pretty heavy.”

“Oh, sure,” Cassie said. “Funny, but it doesn't feel that heavy anymore. I remember last summer I couldn't carry a tray like this, the way Jennifer and Julie do.” She shrugged. “I guess I'm stronger now.”

“That's because you've had two summers and a fall worth of batting practice,” Kelly said with a grin. “You worked hard with the ball machine. You're batting really well now because you've gotten stronger. Funny how that works together. No wonder you hit a triple.”

“Do you think I can ever hit a homer like you do?”

“Sure, you will. In time. You've got a lot more growing to do. Look how much you've grown in the little over a year since you've been here. Must be three inches.”

“Three and a half,” Cassie corrected, a wide smile lighting her deep blue eyes.

“Three and a half. And I predict you'll probably grow another inch before this year is over.”

Cassie's eyes popped wide. “You think so!
Awesome!
I hope you're right.”

“Your legs have gotten a lot longer, too. That's why you can run so fast. You run almost as fast as I do, I think.”

“No way!” Cassie scoffed.

“Oh, yeah. You're like a jackrabbit racing around those bases.”

Cassie gave a giggling laugh that made Kelly laugh just hearing it. “Jackrabbit. I love it. I gotta tell Eric.”

“Well, you can tell him that he looks like a really tall, skinny jackrabbit. And he runs even faster.”

“He'll love that,” Cassie said, shifting the tray. “Talk to you later, Kelly.”

“If it's Friday, then you're going with Lisa to the sports clinic. Bring back some of Lisa's PT secrets, okay?”

“Lisa's secret is she's got magic hands,” Cassie said as she headed toward the kitchen area.

Magic hands, huh?
Kelly recalled how skilled Lisa had been when she helped Kelly recuperate from a broken ankle years ago. Cassie was one smart kid, she thought as she pulled her laptop from the briefcase bag.

•   •   •

The
sound of her cell phone's music playing cut through Kelly's financial spreadsheet concentration. The phone screen flashed the word “Unknown” as Kelly clicked on.

“This is Kelly Flynn,” she said in her business voice as she leaned back in the wrought iron chair outside in the café's garden patio.

“Kelly, this is Cathy Craig. Your e-mail said to give you a call. What is it exactly that you're researching?”

“Researching” was such a formal word, Kelly
immediately switched into friendly, conversational mode. “Cathy, thanks so much for calling. I wouldn't really call it ‘research.' I'm simply trying to find out as much as I can about what happens when someone is accused of sexual assault. Police procedures and all that. The son of a friend of ours here at Lambspun knitting shop was recently accused of sexual assault.” Kelly deliberately didn't say more. She wanted to see how Cathy Craig responded.

“Well, I only know the basics of police procedures in that situation. But I can definitely attest to the personal devastation complaints like that can do to the person accused. Basically, the police have to question the person who's claiming assault. And they question the person accused of committing assault. Then police file an official report. If the accuser chooses to press charges, then there's a trial. But even when there are no formal charges pressed, that official police report is still on file. And it's available to employers.”

Kelly noticed Cathy Craig's voice had hardened. “Elizabeth said that you were friends with a professor who was accused and his family.”

“Yes, and I got to witness firsthand how a good man and his career are destroyed. Professor Smith is a family friend, and a good, honorable man. There's no way he could have done what that girl claimed. He told the police he was innocent, but the police can only take the information. Gossip started immediately. Paul denied that he'd done anything to that girl. She'd come into his office begging him to change her low grade on an exam. She wanted him to give her some extra credit assignment to do so she could raise her grade. Paul said he patiently explained to her that he
couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to the rest of the students in his class.”

“That's kind of arrogant. Asking a professor to treat you differently than the other students,” Kelly couldn't help interjecting.

“Isn't it, though?” Cathy Craig's voice got harsher. “He told my dad and me that the girl got this funny look on her face after he'd refused her request. Kind of shocked. Like she was surprised he'd said no. Then she started begging him to reconsider. She wanted to get into a medical career and a low grade in anatomy could ruin her chances. Of course, Paul had to refuse her again. Then he said he ushered her out of his office. Office hours were over, and he had a meeting to attend. Paul said she was staring daggers at him as he locked up his office and left.”

“Wow, she sounds like she'd never heard ‘no' before. What happened then?”

“Apparently that afternoon the girl told a campus policeman that Paul had assaulted her in his office. That's when the nightmare began. Gossip spread immediately once the police were involved. Two officers actually came to Paul's office on campus to question him. Right in front of all of his faculty colleagues. Paul said it was as if he'd suddenly contracted a terrible contagious disease. Colleagues stopped chatting with him. No one wanted to join him for lunch. But worse than being ostracized was that colleagues no longer wanted to professionally collaborate with him or invite him to join professional societies. That is death at a university. You might be alive, but your career starts to die. Slowly. Paul was an associate professor and being considered for
advancement to full professor. But when the senior faculty met, Paul no longer had their support. Not enough votes, so he didn't make it. A few months before, Paul had the full support of the senior faculty. It was
so
unfair.”

“When my friend here at the shop explained the university system to me, I have to admit it sounds vaguely draconian.”

“University politics is definitely another world. My father was a professor at the university for years.” Cathy Craig's voice changed, sadder now. “After the incident, Paul's personality changed. He started drinking heavily at that bar near Old Town, Mason's. He even got into a fight at that bar one night. He told us some guy was giving him a hard time, and Paul hit him. They scuffled and the bartender and owner threw Paul and the other guy out in the street.” A long sigh came over the phone. “He even had an angry confrontation with that girl when their paths crossed on campus one day. In front of other people, too. Campus police said he'd been drinking and called Fort Connor cops. His wife Marcia left him after that. They didn't have any kids, thank goodness.”

Kelly listened to the sad litany. “Good Lord, his whole world fell apart.”

“Yes, it did, and it's been tragic to watch. Paul still hasn't gotten back to his old self. At least he quit drinking last year. Listen, I've got to get to another class. I wish I had better news for your friend's son, but bad things do happen to good people. Even if they are innocent.”

“I'm afraid you're right, Cathy. I appreciate your taking the time to talk with me. I know how tight a student's schedule can be. Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Kelly.” Her phone clicked off.

Kelly stared out the window into the July afternoon. This was such a depressing story, Kelly felt sad just listening to it. How much of this depressing story she would share with Barb, she wasn't sure yet. But she would share it with Mimi and Burt. That way they'd be forewarned to help Tommy.

•   •   •

Later
that day, Kelly walked down the corridor leading from the café into the knitting shop. Spreadsheets were finished early, so it was time for some relaxation. She could pull out the scarf she was knitting from ribbonlike yarns. Or, she could find a new distraction.

Kelly wanted to give a scarf to each of her five softball clinic girls. They could also use them as belts with jeans. She'd already finished two ribbon scarves. Kelly considered starting the next one, then the distracting idea beckoned to her again. The idea of trying out those new wet felting techniques had bounced around her head for a couple of days. Maybe this would be a good time to find out more about it.

Voices were coming from the workroom straight ahead, so Kelly continued into the room. There she saw Mimi and Rosa covering the worktable with white paper, taping it beneath so it wouldn't move.

“Hey, what are you two up to?” she asked.

“We're fixing the table for Mimi's Wet Felting class,” Rosa said, glancing over at Kelly.

“Oh, perfect! I was thinking I might join one of those classes, Mimi. I keep thinking how pretty that blue scarf was that one of your students created.”

Mimi burst into a grin. “Wonderful! I think you'll love it, Kelly. And it's really easy.”

“I know you always say that,” Kelly said as she dumped her briefcase bag on a counter holding several weaving looms. Mimi taught many weaving classes in the workroom. “But this technique doesn't involve knitting, so I'm hoping it will actually turn out to be easy.”

Mimi gave her lilting laugh and a dismissive wave. “Trust me, it is easy. Here, let me show you the silk scarves I bought for the class to choose from. I'll give you first pick.”

She beckoned Kelly toward a smaller table where several bags of recently dyed wool fleece sat. Kelly couldn't help but notice the variety of colors. A rainbow of colors.

“Is this the wool we'll be using to felt onto the scarves?” Kelly asked, fingering the royal blue wool in the bag closest to her.

“Yes. Each student will choose the colors they'd like to use on their scarves. Some people choose variations in the same color as their scarf. Others like to use contrasting colors. It's up to you.” Mimi reached into a container where several silk scarves lay and removed a cherry red scarf. “Here, you look great in red, Kelly. Why don't you use this one.”

Kelly eagerly took the silken rectangle. She loved silk, the sensuous feel of it. Smooth, smooth. Her fingers stroked the deep red. Luscious. “It's beautiful, Mimi.”

“I thought you'd like it. Now, why don't you hold up some of the wool fibers against the scarf and see which ones strike your fancy. People are different. There're no right or wrong colors.” She pointed toward the bags filled with colorful wools.

“I fingered the blue one and it feels like the wool fleece Burt uses to spin, but before he spins it.”

“You're right. And you folks in the class will also have to draft the wool into batten or roving, exactly like Burt and I do before we start to spin. That way the fibers are stretched and ready for the process.” Mimi glanced at her watch. “Well, the class will start in half an hour, so I'm going up front to take care of customers. Stay here and play with the wools as long as you want, Kelly.”

“Thanks, Mimi. It'll be fun.” Mimi hurried off in her usual rushing fashion, but Kelly stayed beside the table, holding up the red scarf to the deep rose–colored wool. Hmmmmm. That does look pretty, she decided. She skipped the royal blue fibers and the light green fibers and paused at the bag filled with light orange–colored fibers. She held up the red scarf, placing some of the orange fibers against it. There was a pleasing look to the combination. She pulled a handful of orange fibers free and held them next to the deep rose fibers. Nice, she thought, studying the strangely complementary colors.

Okay, time to see how they do next to the scarf, Kelly decided, and spread out the cherry red scarf on the smaller table, then took a handful of deep rose fibers and the orange fibers and placed them next to each other on the scarf. She was surprised by the effect. It was pretty. Very pretty to her eye. Of course, Kelly had always loved the color red. So, maybe that was why. Whatever the reason, Kelly made her decision. The deep rose and orange fibers for her.

Burt's voice cut into Kelly's fiber perusal. “Hey, Kelly. Mimi said I'd find you in here,” he said as he walked over to her.

“Hi, Burt. I've decided to take Mimi's Wet Felting class, and she told me to pick the colors I want to use. See, I'm starting with this pretty red scarf.” She held it up.