Read Bill Crider - Dan Rhodes 20 - Compound Murder for Free Online Page B

numbers. He talked to the administrative assistant for a few seconds and then hung up.
    “She can see you now,” Benton said. “I think you should talk to her about the students. She’s worried about keeping them here. A lot of them have jobs. They can’t just stay on campus all day.”
    “I’ll go see her,” Rhodes said, wondering why Benton was so eager to get rid of him. “You wait for me here.”
    “I wouldn’t think of leaving,” Benton said.
    *   *   *
    Dean King was agitated and animated. She waved her hands and spoke a little too loudly for the small office, which was much neater than Benton’s. She was obviously one of the clean-desk crowd.
    “I’ve been on the phone all morning,” she said, “trying to find a replacement for Mr. Wellington. English teachers are usually a dime a dozen, but just try to find one in the middle of the semester. It’s not easy, let me tell you.”
    “I’m sure it’s not,” Rhodes said.
    “That’s not all,” the dean said. “We have to let the students leave. We can’t have classes as usual, not with what’s happened. It’s not respectful, and they’re not paying attention to the instructors. Besides, there’s no way you could question all of them.”
    “I know,” Rhodes said. He’d thought about it on the way back to town, and he knew the situation was impossible. “How about this. You make an announcement and say that I need to talk to anybody who might have some helpful information. That includes the faculty members. Everyone else can go.”
    It wasn’t a good solution. Rhodes knew it was likely that the person having the most information would leave with the rest.
    The dean leaned back in her chair, her relief obvious. “Thank you. That will help me get things back on track. I’ll announce it right now. I’ll dismiss classes for the rest of today and tomorrow. I can have anybody with information meet you here. I can give you some privacy.”
    “That’ll be fine,” Rhodes said. “I’d like the key to Wellington’s office, too, if I have your permission to search it.”
    “Of course.” The dean opened a desk drawer and got out a key. She handed it to Rhodes and said, “This is a passkey. I’ll need it back.”
    “I’ll bring it by,” Rhodes said. “When I do, I have some questions for you.”
    “Me? What have I done?”
    “Not a thing, but I need to find out about Wellington.”
    “I’m not sure what I can tell you.”
    “Me either,” Rhodes said, “but we’ll find out. I do have your permission to search Wellington’s office, right?”
    “Certainly.”
    “Good. I’m going to talk to Benton now. Be sure to make that announcement.”
    “I will,” the dean said.
    She was quick about it, too. Rhodes heard it over the speaker system as he went up the stairs to Benton’s office, and he wondered who would come by to talk to him, or if anyone would.
    *   *   *
    By the time Rhodes arrived at Benton’s office, the dean had finished the announcement, and almost immediately there was the rumbling noise of chairs being shoved back, followed by doors opening and students rushing into the hallways and chattering away on their cell phones. Most of the classrooms were on the first floor, so Rhodes was able to get Benton’s door closed before any of the students saw him.
    Benton had cleaned off a chair by his desk, where he sat clicking a computer mouse.
    “Take a look at this,” Benton said.
    Rhodes sat down and looked at the computer screen.
    “All right,” he said. The screen was a little blurry. “I’m looking. Now tell me what I’m supposed to see.”
    “It’s a Web site called ProfessoRater. Students can rank their instructors on a scale of one to five and make comments about them. This is a page of my rankings.”
    “So?” Rhodes said.
    “In the comments you’ll notice several occurrences of words like ‘awesome’ and ‘great’ and ‘best.’”
    “I don’t see ‘modest,’” Rhodes