The Square Root of Murder (Professor Sophie Knowles)

don’t participate enough in college life.”
    “You’re always there.”
    “Again, her word against mine. I don’t have enough publications.”
    “You have a packed resume. How many publications are enough?”
    “There’s no magic number. What I’d have to do is show that so-and-so got promoted last year or whenever with fewer publications and less committee work, blah, blah, blah. But do I want to spend my time on that kind of research?”
    “You’d do it for someone else.”
    “Maybe. But in the end it’s subjective anyway.”
    “I don’t understand academia.”
    “Get in line with Ariana.”
    “Why do you even stay?”
    “Because I love teaching and I love the interaction with the students. And the good outweighs the bad. Not all the administration is like this particular dean. Our vice presidents are terrific, and so is President Aldridge, with a real commitment to education. And, cue the violins, I feel like I can make a difference.”
    “I thought you’d say that.”
    “Not like you with life and death on the line. Working with emergencies all the time.”
    “That’s my life. Emergencies interspersed with the popcorn maker.”
    “I still think you should learn CPR, however,” I told him.
    He screwed up his nose. “Not me. I don’t like touching patients.”
    We took a few minutes to rehash a conversation we had early in our relationship. I’d been amazed that medevac pilots stayed in the helicopter at the accident scene while the nurses tended the patients. The pilots had no medical training beyond the first aid class I’d had as camp counselor one summer.
    “Hello-o-o,” Bruce had sung out. “I’m busy in there. I’m checking our position; the fuel; the GPS, figuring out the best hospital to target, depending on what the nurses tell me; determining what the highest obstacle is between us and the facility, figuring in the power lines, the telephone poles; calculating the weight of the crew plus patients.”
    “Okay, you’re off the hook,” I’d said.
    But I still thought a class in CPR wouldn’t hurt.
    Bruce had finished his lunch.
    “Are you going to eat that?” he asked, pointing to my half sandwich and mounds of salads.
    Without waiting for an answer, he reached over and scooped up my half sandwich. It had happened before, especially when I’d been doing all the talking during a meal.
    Though I didn’t need it to make my case, I offered another horror story.
    “An associate professor I met at a conference in Pittsburgh told me his dean went after his students in order to make a case against tenure. He claimed that not enough of this guy’s math majors got into good graduate schools. Underwood could do that to me.”
    “Is it true?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t think so, but there again I’d have to spend a lot of time appealing the decision with data.”
    “I thought you loved statistics.”
    “Yeah, well.”
    “So what’s your bottom line?” Bruce asked me.
    “Meaning?”
    “Is it worth it to lose your promotion over the investigation?”
    Leave it to Bruce to ask tough questions. I surprised myself by how quickly I knew the answer. “I’m not going to stop trying to help.”
    “No matter what it means to your career?”
    “No matter what.”
    “That’s my girl,” Bruce said.
    I was glad to hear it, but my head hurt. “Let’s talk about something else.”
    “Have you gone in to see Virgil yet?”
    “Something else else.”

CHAPTER 18
     
    Probably because Bruce was ready for a nap, I was able to finagle my way out of making the call to the Henley PD immediately and into getting him to talk about his own dealings with them yesterday.
    We’d moved to the den and I sat on the couch with his head on my lap. I used my most soothing voice while I rubbed his head.
    “Did you think of anything else from your meeting with Virgil?” I asked. Manipulating girlfriend.
    “I told you everything, about the poison and all. I know the police have questioned everyone from the president to the groundskeepers. Even delivery people and trash collectors who were around that week. The chief is pretty shook up. This kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”
    “It’s the same on the campus. I wouldn’t want to be working in counseling or admissions right now,” I said. “Can you imagine how frantic the parents are? Of the incoming freshmen especially. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were already some withdrawals. The sooner we get to the bottom of