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

you think?”
    I was tempted to point out that it had always been an internal issue and should have been left to the faculty members—all of them, not just one particularly fanatical one with a grudge against the theater. But if he’d decided to cede the field, who cared what words he used?
    “It must be difficult for you here,” I said, waving my hand to indicate the activity around us. “I suppose the chief wants you to stay around?”
    “I imagine I could convince him to let me go home,” Dr. Blanco said. “But the president indicated he’d like me to stick around. Keep my finger on the pulse, as it were.”
    Just then Rose Noire bustled up.
    “You haven’t eaten a thing,” she said to Dr. Blanco. “Why don’t you let me bring you a plate?”
    “No, thanks,” he said.
    “Would you like something that isn’t on the buffet?”
    Something not on the buffet? I glanced over at the four overflowing tables. Was there any food not represented there?
    “Really, I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just not very hungry yet.”
    “But you need to—”
    Blanco’s phone rang. His eyes lit up.
    “I beg your pardon, but I must take this. It’s the president.” He stood up as he flipped the phone open. “Just a moment,” he said into the phone. “Let me find someplace quieter.”
    He scurried across the barn floor and out the door.
    “Poor man,” I said.
    “He has a very forlorn aura,” Rose Noire said. “Nothing like Dr. Wright’s. I think the students are mistaken to dislike him so much.”
    “He’s a pilot fish who’s lost his shark,” I said. “Weak, not evil. And probably not very dangerous. At least not until he finds another shark.”
    “He needs to open up and talk to someone about what he’s experiencing,” Rose Noire said. “But he’s very resistant to the idea.”
    I sighed. Apparently Rose Noire was practicing therapy without a license again. Had Blanco’s phone really rung or had he just been trying to escape Rose Noire?
    “Well, I suppose we should give him some space for now,” Rose Noire said. “I wanted to ask you—do you think I’m to blame for all this?”
    “To blame? Why?”
    “Well, I was the one who brought Tawaret into the house,” she said.
    “You didn’t force anyone to pick her up and attempt homicide with her,” I said.
    “Yes,” Rose Noire said. “But she’s quite protective. Perhaps she sensed that Dr. Wright was a danger to you and the babies. And of course she comes from an age when people were a lot more direct about life and death. And less respectful of human life. Perhaps it was a mistake, bringing her into such a fraught situation. Of course, I didn’t know at the time it was fraught, but still—”
    “It’s an interesting idea,” I said. Actually, I thought it was a crazy idea. Was I going to follow in Mother’s footsteps, and teach my children that when they couldn’t say anything nice, they should fall back on the word “interesting?” I’d decide later. “But maybe you shouldn’t spread your theory around too widely.”
    “Why not?”
    “Imagine how Chief Burke will feel if whoever he arrests tries to use that as a defense,” I said. “ ‘Tawaret made me do it.’ ”
    “You’re just humoring me,” she said.
    “I’m just trying to cheer you up,” I said. Would she feel better if I told her Tawaret wasn’t the actual murder weapon? Maybe, but maybe not. And I’d promised Chief Burke I wouldn’t tell anyone. “Look,” I said aloud. “I don’t think Tawaret magically convinced anyone to kill Dr. Wright. The killer made his—or her—own decision.”
    “Thank you,” she said. “But I’m still going to consider this an important lesson!”
    She looked very determined. I wasn’t sure quite what lesson she was learning from today’s events. Never give presents large enough to become murder weapons? Never trust pagan goddesses who might have their own agendas? Time would tell. I closed my eyes and tried to wiggle into a comfortable position.
    “Good news!”
    I opened one eye to see Dr. Blanco standing in front of us looking much more cheerful than before.
    “The president is coming!” Blanco said.
    “You mean all the way from Washington?” Rose Noire asked.
    I choked back my laughter. Yes, given the mingled awe andexcitement in Blanco’s voice, I could see how she might jump to the conclusion that we’d be meeting the occupant of the White House.
    “No, the president of the college,” Blanco