Read Sounds of Murder for Free Online Page B

Pamela
had continued on for her doctorate, Rocky had been happy to remain
at the instructor level with his Masters’ degree and be a house
husband, caring for their young daughter. He made good use of both
his teaching skills and his military training to mold his students.
Pamela always felt secure with him because he approached all crises
with calmness and firmness. She knew she would need his fortitude
in the coming days.
    "Now," he said, looking straight at her.
"Tell me what happened."
    "I found her," she said, gulping. "I mean,
one of my students actually found her, but...”
    "Wait a minute, Babe," he interrupted. "You'd
better start at the beginning. All I know is that someone died and
you had to stay late."
    "Right," she nodded. "It was Charlotte.
Charlotte Clark."
    "You mean the diva?" he asked.
    "Yes," she answered, "I mean, she was famous,
Rocky. She’d just been on Oprah , for God's sake."
    "Did she have a heart attack?"
    "My God, no!" she sat up abruptly. "She was
murdered!"
    "What?" he exclaimed.
    "That's what I meant. I found her," she
repeated. "I found her body."
    "What makes you think she was murdered?" he
asked, a patch of wrinkle lines appearing over his nose. "Did you
see someone kill her?"
    "No," she responded, "But when Kent found
her--he's my graduate assistant--he called me to the lab, and I
went there and I saw her. She had a power cord from a set of
headphones wrapped around her neck."
    "God," he exhaled. His face contorted into a
frown. "You were there by yourself?"
    "No," she said. "Kent was there."
    "But, the two of you were alone in the
building?" he asked, developing that slow burn that she recognized
as a prelude to his very infrequent outbursts.
    "It was after nine and all the evening
classes were over. Everyone was out of the building as far as I
knew."
    "Except the person who killed Charlotte," he
said.
    "We didn't see anyone at all," she responded.
She could see how worried he was for her.
    "What did you do then?" he asked, calming
some what.
    "We called the campus police and they came
almost at once," she said. "That's why I was there so late. Then
the local police--this Detective Shoop was asking me questions
until just a little bit ago."
    "Couldn't he have waited until tomorrow?" he
queried, now more annoyed than angry. She’d finished her chocolate.
He took her cup and placed it on his nightstand.
    "Rocky," she said, feeling much too tired to
get into an argument with him over her safety, "It's all right. I'm
home. The police wanted to get my reactions while they were fresh
in my mind. I understand. Everything turned out all right." She
looked at him and put her hands on his face as if to say, "I'm
safe." She loved this dear, sweet man who had her best interests at
the very top of his list.
    Rocky gave in to her plea and stood up long
enough to draw back the covers on their bed. She snuggled inside
the warm bed. Rocky climbed in beside her and turned out the
light.
    "I don't think I can sleep," she said, her
shoulders quivering.
    "I didn't expect you would," he responded.
"Just try to relax. This has been a terrible ordeal for you. You
should stay home tomorrow."
    "No," she muttered, "I can't do that. It’ll
be a zoo over there. Things will be in an uproar and the students
will be upset. I have to be there. And besides, that Shoop will
probably want to question me again."
    "Pammie, Babe," he said, nuzzling close to
her ear and wrapping his arms around her in the way that always
made her feel totally safe and secure, "You don't need to feel
obligated to go in. My God, you found a dead body tonight. Anyone
would understand if you wanted to take the day off tomorrow."
    "I’ll be fine," she said, turning towards
him. "Right now, my brain’s on overdrive. I can't stop thinking
about it."
    "I can imagine," he responded. "It must have
been horrible--finding a dead body." They whispered, nose to
nose.
    "Yes, it was creepy," she said, "I mean, I’ve
seen dead bodies at funerals, but never