“Oh, it didn’t make it to the review board, not because of a conspiracy, but because he killed himself before the hearing,” Anna-Kate shook her head. “Such a waste of potential, too.”
“He killed himself?” I cocked my head at her.
“Threw himself off a building.”
The breath whooshed out of Celia. “That’s unbelievable.”
Anna-Kate shrugged. “He knew the jig was up. He got caught in a quid pro quo situation and knew he’d lose his job over it. Even his tenure. So, he did what a lot of cowardly men did.”
“So, it was an official suicide?” I asked. “No lingering doubts about the cause of death?”
Anna-Kate looked up at the ceiling and thought for a moment. “Well, there was one thing.”
Celia and I both leaned forward in our seats.
“Garrett had so much alcohol in his system. He would have been blind drunk,” Anna-Kate looked between us. “Campus police found a table on the top of the building, set with dinner and several bottles of wine. They believe he tried to lure Echo to the location, but when she didn’t show, he got hammered and killed himself.”
Celia shrugged. “That doesn’t seem weird.”
“No, but he was still wearing his glasses when he died,” Anna-Kate stared at Celia. “Investigators say most people who kill themselves in this manner take off their glasses. They don’t want to see the end coming.”
I turned to Celia. She smiled at me.
We both looked back at Anna-Kate.
“You think he was pushed?” I asked the dean.
She nodded. “I do. But the police couldn’t prove it.”
“Can we see the building where it happened?” Celia asked Anna-Kate.
“Absolutely,” Anna-Kate headed toward the door. “Follow me.”
Fifteen minutes later, the three of us stood at the top of the Peddle Bell Tower, looking down at the campus.
“The bell tower?” Celia laughed. “You’re joking, right?”
“Dead serious,” Anna-Kate nodded gravely.
We were in the open-air area at the top of the tower adjacent to the Ole Miss chapel. A waist-high solid wall ran the perimeter. Three window-like openings were cut into each side of the building.
“How tall was Professor Kimbrough?” I looked at Anna-Kate.
“He had a few inches on me. Probably six feet tall?”
Celia glanced at Anna-Kate, then back at the wall. “How much did he weigh?”
Anna-Kate shrugged. “Garrett had muscle, not like your friend Mr. Mendota, but muscle from playing tennis and golf.”
Celia walked around the platform. “If he didn’t jump to his death, and he had help, how does a woman the same height and weight as me throw a man through those windows? She’d need some serious momentum to get him up and over the wall.”
I nodded in agreement. I could see why the police ruled it a suicide because the alternative was hard to grasp, especially without any evidence of wrongdoing.
A sudden cold wind gust swept through the top of the bell tower, knocking Celia into me and ringing the bells. She shuddered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms, then righted herself and gave me a head nod, letting me know she was okay.
“Anything else you can tell us about Echo? Even the smallest detail could help us catch her,” I turned to Anna-Kate.
“She didn’t have many friends,” Anna-Kate began. “Echo had a lot of hangers-on, people who wanted to be near her, but no real friends. Except one.”
“What was the friend’s name?” I pressed.
The dean shook her head. “I don’t remember it, but I do remember when she got into trouble when Stringer died.”
Chills went down my spine. “How so?”
“She’s the chiropractor who lost her license for giving him that fake Viagara.”
“Mother of Pearl!” Celia swore. “They knew each other in college?”
Anna-Kate nodded. “Thick as thieves, they were.”
