I hand him the paper, and he folds it and places it in his pocket.
“Do you find it odd that Randy has missed over a week of class?”
I shrug. “No. Like I said before, some students take trips and miss a week of school every so often. Sadly, it isn’t unusual here.”
He stares at me for a moment, then gives a brief nod. “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, please call me.”
Once the detective leaves, I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t wish any ill will on Randy, but I’m happy to have one less person to deal with at the moment.
I check my phone and see a text from Cody saying he will be home late. That means I’m on my own for dinner. Suddenly craving some more of those tacos from the truck we stopped at the other night, I grab my purse and exit the building.
“Lucy.”
I turn to see Liz, the head of the psychology department.
She’s smiling as she approaches. “Do you have a minute?” she asks.
The woman always looks like she belongs in a magazine, and today is no exception. She is wearing a blue cashmere sweater that matches her eyes, with a brown skirt, and brown heels. She is the epitome of elegance.
“Sure.”
A couple of students laugh in the distance, and Liz turns her head toward them.
When her eyes meet mine, they’re troubled. “I’m not sure if you heard, but Professor Olson had a stroke.”
“Oh, no.”
Professor Olson is our newest addition to the psychology department and a favorite among freshmen.
“Look, I hate to ask this, but could you fill in for his psych 101 course? Only for a month. If he isn’t recovered by then, I’ll find a more permanent solution.”
“101?” I bite my tongue.
I have always taught three-hundred-level courses to juniors and seniors; the idea of teaching a basic course to kids who have no interest in psychology gives me a headache.
“I know it’s below your usual caliber, but I checked with the other professors, and many already have classes on Mondays at ten a.m. Plus, you’re currently teaching the least class hours.”
She’s kidding, right?
Yes, I might have the least class hours, but that’s because I’m working on a research paper for the department as well. I need to stand up for myself, here.
“I might have fewer class hours, but getting throughNeuroethology, and Programming for Psychology and Neuroscienceare not easy.”
Liz purses her lips. “You’re right. They aren’t. And if I could find anyone else to take this on, I would. But look on the bright side, it will be easy for you.” She gives a fake grin.
Dammit.
There is no way I can say no to Liz. Not only is she a nice person, but she’s the head of the department. I want to stay on her good side.
I let out a resigned sigh. “Okay, send me his class schedule.”
“Already in your inbox.” Liz smiles for real this time. “By the way, how is the programming class coming? Do the students enjoy the computer science lab component Professor Barton is teaching?”
I smile as I remember the excitement in our students’ eyes.
When Ted first approached me to teach this joint class, I was hesitant, but he’s right—this is a vibrant direction for psychology to take, and a great opportunity for those students who combine it with the computer sciences.
“They love it,” I tell her.
