It wasn’t Courtney’s fault the dean spent her days thinking of ways to annoy the Henley faculty. Especially me.

I’d forgotten to take my sunglasses from my purse when I exited the shop. I squinted against the intense sunlight and entertained ugly thoughts about Dean Underwood. First Keith Appleton, and now the dean was upsetting my day. Maybe I was the problem. Maybe I should try to earn a living making beaded key chains. Beads didn’t talk back or try to cramp my style.

“Is it urgent?” I asked.

“Isn’t it always?” Courtney asked.

I sighed, slightly resigned. There was also my puzzle work to fall back on for income, I thought. Ever since I was a college student, I’d been submitting puzzles and brainteasers on a regular basis to games and variety magazines. But while it was fun coming up with number play and logic puzzles, the pay was hardly enough to pay the bills. I realized Courtney was still on the line. “So, she wants to see me today?” I asked.

“Yesterday. I’m sorry, Dr. Knowles,” said Courtney, whose temperament did not match her flaming red hair.

“I’ll have to change my clothes,” I said, glancing down at my flowered crop pants and bright green sandals.

“It’s not about your clothes this time.” Courtney paused, as if considering whether to say more. She filled in with a nice offer. “Oh, I have your favorite lemon zinger tea in stock, Dr. Knowles. I’ll have a tall, cold glass waiting.”

At least I related well with the younger generation. I thought also of my wonderful friends on the Henley faculty and of the richly diverse student body I got to work with every term.

Maybe I wouldn’t turn in my Henley College ID card just yet.

Maybe I could get Keith and the dean to turn in theirs.

CHAPTER 2

As promised, Courtney had left a pitcher of iced tea on a small table in Dean Phyllis Underwood’s outer office. A note said, “Keep cool.” If the dean had seen it, I wondered if she knew how many meanings Courtney had in mind.