Excerpt: The entire university was abuzz with the murder that had taken place. Located next to a small town in New Jersey, Falhorn University was not used to being front page news for the state. Its typical crime rate consisted of cows getting hit by tourists visiting the historic town from the nearby coast and the drunken antics of college hooligans during basketball season. It seemed that everywhere Lazarus went, whether it was Dansbury Hall, his apartment, or the bathroom in the student center, that there were police everywhere. They seemed to have come out of the woodwork. The media had also set up a large camp at the sidewalk intersection in front of Howe Hall where the body had been discovered. They would harangue passing students, staff, and the golden calf, a police officer. Scarlett was not immune either.
The two of them sat in Chucks Café, within visual distance of the media horde, and hid. Scarlett leaned forward over her steaming mug of pumpkin coffee, “I can’t believe this. Every single time I walk by those guys they recognize my face, all because I gave that stupid interview the day after they found Tommy.”
“Well,” Lazarus said, “I’ve been told that vanity is a sin.”
“Oh shut up,” shae said, “You could at least support me in this.”
“I told you not to do it. Those TV hawks are out for blood, just like the guy who did Tommy in.”
“I know. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”
Lazarus check to make sure his fly was zipped up before he stood up to go to the bathroom. Standing, he almost knocked the delicate little table over. She looked up at him, cradling her mug.
Lazarus crossed his arms and said, “Sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, envy, wrath, and pride.” She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, he held up his hand, “Hold that thought. I gotta pee.”
“Jerk,” she said and shot him daggers to his retreating back.
When he returned, Lazarus asked, “Did your professors take it okay?”
Scarlett shot him another look and then said, “Dr. Reyman didn’t. He loves his students, even though Tommy wasn’t one of them. My other professor, Pyrle, took it in stride. I think he views all students as kind of disposable.”
“Oh yeah,” Lazarus said, “that asshole. He’s the one who gives you impossible amounts of work, even for a law student, and expects you to do well with it.”
“Yep, but I wouldn’t call him an asshole. He’s just demanding and a good professor, too. Probably the best one here.”
Lazarus did not want to argue with her, so instead he just took a deep drink of his tea. Scarlett was facing away from the window, so Lazarus was the one to perk up when he noticed the commotion at the bushes where the media hovered like restless alligators.
