The Feline Affair (An Incident Series Novelette) Read Online Free

him, I
double-checked that the hallway was indeed empty and then casually
headed to the fridge area. I peeked inside the fridge and spotted
what I thought was Chief Kirkland’s quinoa salad, still
undisturbed.
    The camera was on the very top of the supply
shelf, wedged under some flat boxes destined for recycling. Placing
the forms aside, I reached for it. The camera was, I discovered,
quite heavy, at least by TTE lab standards. Since our
time-traveling researchers needed to obtain footage without
disturbing History, their cameras were often no larger than a
button. But this one would do.
    I squatted by the table holding the
coffeemaker. There were extra coffee filters and paper cups stored
underneath it. I wedged the camera between an unopened box of
coffee filters and the fridge, then added some stacks of paper cups
on top so they covered everything but the lens, feeling very
secret-agent-ish while doing it. I made sure there were plenty of
the paper cups next to the coffeemaker so that no one would need to
reach underneath. If anyone took a closer look, they would spot the
camera, but I hoped the culprit wouldn’t bother looking down when
the fridge, with all the inviting food inside it, beckoned.
    I heard voices nearing down the hallway, so I
gave Chief Kirkland a discreet wave, picked up the forms, and
turned to go.
    Dr. Ann Oshiro, biology professor and
departmental chair, was standing there balancing a stack of
textbooks in her arms. “Julia, hello. Did you need anything?”
    Whoever she had been talking to had gone off
down one of the side corridors. I couldn’t very well use my cover
story about wanting her signature—the forms in my hand were blank
and she wouldn’t, quite rightly, want to sign them. Nor could I
tell her that I had come over to move the camera, for
it suddenly occurred to me why Chief Kirkland had not wanted
me to mention the camera plan to anyone in the biology building.
Dr. Oshiro belonged in the category of senior professors who had
their own offices. She could be the fridge phantom herself. She’d
been at St. Sunniva for years, and the phantom was a recent
phenomenon, but you never knew. I said the first thing that came
into my mind. “Uh, I was just taking a look around. The Student
Advocate Office has some concerns about the number of students
sharing the grad offices and labs.”
    “Well, we can’t deny that there’s somewhat of
an overcrowding problem. Let me know if they need me to take any
action, though I don’t know what I can do short of staggering the
grad students so half of them work daytime hours and half nighttime
hours.”
    I decided she wasn’t serious about that
proposal and rescued one of the textbooks, which had been
threatening to tumble off the stack she had just set down on the
coffeemaker table. She reached for a cup.
    I couldn’t very well hover by her side to see
what she did after filling the coffee cup, so I did the only thing
I could—I left, promising to let her know if the Student Advocate
Office came up with any ideas. Now, of course, I would actually
have to stop by the Advocate Office to see if they did have
any suggestions for easing the grad student situation in the
building.
    “Well?” I demanded, nearing Chief Kirkland’s
bench again.
    “Well, what?”
    “Did Dr. Oshiro take the quinoa?”
    I leaned over his shoulder for a closer look
at the video stream on his laptop just in time to see Dr. Oshiro
leaving. She had managed to balance the textbooks in one arm,
supported by her chin, and was carrying the coffee cup in the
other.
     
    That was a positive development. I hadn’t
thought Dr. Oshiro was the thief, but it was nice to have it
confirmed. I said as much, and Chief Kirkland pointed out that
while Dr. Oshiro hadn’t taken anything from the fridge today, it
didn’t mean she wouldn’t do it tomorrow , and it was my turn
to feel foolish.
    “On the other hand, there’s no reason to
suspect her in particular,” Chief Kirkland