“Dulcie wandered away from the old house, repeating that like a mantra. It was sticky. She’d leaned on it, or put her pad down on it. Something. Nobody would have put it in her bag – why would anyone? Could she really have an enemy – enemies – who would want to frame her for murder? Despite her new-found discomfort with her adviser, Dulcie had been temped to stay in the cozy clapboard. Thorpe might not be much for defending her, but at least she knew him. And once he’d gotten over the shock that... her disgrace could bring to his career, he’d been, well, if not helpful, at least honest. Someone had accused her of plagiarism, he’d told her, and she believed him. Thorpe was too much of a sycophant to misquote a dean. If Haitner had told Thorpe that someone had tipped him off about Dulcie, then someone had. Someone who had access to her dissertation in the works. Someone who also knew Melinda. Dulcie had reached the corner and automatically turned toward home. It was nearly lunchtime, and even if Chris weren’t awake yet, Esmé would be better company than her own thoughts.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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