Stork Raving Mad: A Meg Langslow Mystery (A Meg Lanslow Mystery)

just occurred to me to worry about why Scout was there.”
    “He was just getting his annual checkup,” the chief said. “But thank you for asking. I hope it’s okay that I left him in your kitchen with one of my deputies.”
    “Absolutely fine,” I said. “Just make sure he doesn’t eat any of the spilled pills.”
    “Spilled what? Never mind. You can tell me in a minute. Right now I’m going to inspect the crime scene.”
    I sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. Probably just as well I had a few moments to gather my thoughts before talking anymore to the chief. I needed to figure out where to begin—with Señor Mendoza’s arrival? With the prunes’ arrival? Or just with my arrival at the library? And should I tell the chiefabout Ramon’s—and for that matter, Michael’s—possible motive? Probably better to be honest about the many reasons everyone had to dislike Dr. Wright. He’d find it out anyway, so better if it came from me. And—
    “Meg?”
    Art, Abe, and Michael appeared at the other end of the hallway, with Sammy Wendell, one of Chief Burke’s officers, trailing behind them.
    “Meg? Are you all right?” Art called.
    The chief stuck his head out of the door.
    “Chief Burke, thank goodness you’re here,” Abe said.
    Michael just strode on ahead of them until he arrived at my side, then knelt down beside my chair and put his arms around me. I suddenly realized how shaky I felt, as if even sitting down I was in danger of keeling over.
    “Should she be sitting here?” Art fretted. “Shouldn’t she be lying down?”
    “May we inform the chairman of the English department?” Abe asked. “He should be told as soon as possible.”
    “Maybe we should send someone out to the barn to check on Dr. Blanco,” Michael said, lifting his head. “After all, a lot of the people who have it in for Dr. Wright don’t like him very much either.”
    “Oh my God,” I said. “You’re right! And he probably knows Dr. Wright better than any of us.”
    “Sammy,” the chief said. “Go to the barn and fetch this Dr. Blanco person they’re so worried about. Put him in the kitchen with the rest.”
    “Yes, sir,” Sammy said, and disappeared down the hallway.
    “If you don’t mind,” the chief said to Michael and me, “I’d like to set up a work area here at your house for now. More convenient, until we finish processing the crime scene and interviewing all these witnesses.”
    “No problem,” I said. “Would you like to use the nursery? With any luck, you’ll have solved the crime before Bonnie and Clyde arrive to occupy it. And meanwhile, I’m sure Mother would understand if she has to postpone her decorating for the time being.”
    “No thank you,” the chief said. “I’m not getting between your mother and a decorating project. Besides, I’m too old to go traipsing up and down those stairs every five minutes.”
    “Then what about my office?” Michael suggested. “It’s right here next to the library.”
    “Maybe a little too close,” the chief said. “How can we be sure it’s not a part of the crime scene?”
    “Because we’ve been keeping it locked up ever since the students moved in,” Michael said. “When we offered to let the students stay here, we realized it could create a security problem—we’d have dozens, maybe hundreds of people coming and going. Most of them perfectly honest of course, but it only takes one crook.”
    “So we locked everything valuable or confidential in the closet in Michael’s office, and we keep the office itself locked,” I added. “There are French doors between the office and the library, but they’re locked from the office side.”
    “Any chance someone could have made a key to the office door?” the chief asked.
    “It’s a combination lock on a padlock,” I said. “So it’s unlikely.”
    “Smart,” he said. “I’m having to keep my office locked up these days. Got twenty-seven criminal justice majors living in the jail wing until that damned heating plant is fixed. It’s as if we put the police station in the middle of a blasted dorm.”
    “I know what you mean,” Abe said. “We have a house full, too. Rivka must have taken in the whole library science department. All through dinner last night they were planning a demonstration against library funding cuts.”
    “We just took freshmen,” Art said. “They do get younger every year, don’t they? And none of them eat properly. It’s a wonder they’re