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The knock was sharp and demanding, and Randall was struck by a moment of panic. Had mom found the baggie in his sock drawer? Had she learned how to check the WiFi history?
Hamish, older, financially independent, and free from summers at home for at least ten years, laughed then made his way to the front door of the den.
The woman standing on the threshold craned her neck to peer up at him through her glasses, but not a hair in her tight gray coif dared to shift out of place. "Well aren't you a tall drink of water," she said. "Use your manners. Invite me in."
Randall let out a squeak. He had no reason to believe in daywalking vampires, but then he'd had no reason to believe in golems until once had gone glomping around campus. Hamish apparently was less familiar with popular vampire literature and invited her in.
The woman gave them a small, tight smile as she brushed past to drop a stack of file folders on the bar. "I'm Martha Duncan from the Records Department. I understand Hamish Duke frequents this location."
Randall thrust himself between Hamish and the woman who wanted his name. No fey was taking Ham Sandwhich on his watch. "Who wants to know?"
The look she gave him as she peered over the top edge of her glasses was clouded by cataracts but still chilled him to his bones. She was in a league with Se-Vera and Granny Carpio and Professional Glaring wasn't a sport he wanted to play.
"I'm Martha Duncan from the Records Department. We seem to have lost multiple documents on Mr. Duke and I'm recreating the file."
Hamish rolled his eyes at Randall. "Could academia exist without paperwork?" More respectfully he said, "What documents can I help you recreate Mrs. Duncan?"
"A professor disappeared 18 months ago. The paperwork to complete your PhD and hiring process was with him at the time. We need to set things right."
"Ah. Well I'm pleased to tell you there's no problem. I'm still --"
The sound she made as she cleared her throat told a young man that the time for shenanigans had ended and if he didn't straighten up and fly right a lecture or worse was imminent. Martha Duncan from the Records Department waited a long beat then gave Hamish a thousand pound look to further drive home the point. Seriously, she and Vera had to have taken graduate level Intimidating Glances together.
"Powerful forces are aligning against Vera Stone."
To Randall's credit he didn't say "tell me something I don't know" out loud.
"She's the best chancellor this university has ever had. Belgrave students come from privilege and they graduate to power. Since she's taken over they're all required to take ethics. That was my suggestion. I made it to three chancellors before her. She's the one who made it happen."
Randall and Hamish tried to have a psychic conversation, but psychic powers were not included in their werewolf skills and they spoke at the same time.
"You're from academic records?"
"What does this have to do with me?"
Martha Duncan's eyes travelled up and down Hamish with the thoroughness of an airport scanner. "Chancellor Stone would never have an affair with a student. Dating an adjunct professor isn't ideal, but a tuition paying student who still needs discretionary approval for his doctorate? That's scandalous."
They'd always seemed more *weird* than scandalous, but Hamish enjoyed whatever they had enough to keep doing it. That was all that mattered. "I call them Vermish."
"I call it a career ending mistake." Martha Duncan laid a piece of paper on the bar in front of Hamish. "This is your application for graduation, recreated in paper because electronic files have electronic date stamps."
Hamish studied the document. "It's dated just before the ethics professor disappeared."
She nodded.
He signed. "So unfortunate that my paperwork disappeared with him."
"Congratulations," Martha answered as she thrust an embossed document folder at him. She pulled a thick manila folder to the top of her work stack. "These are employment contracts for the courses you've taught for the last year. You were not a TA. You were an adjunct professor."
"When my TA stipend against tuition is compared to a salary do I owe the university money or do you owe me?"
With one finger she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose then looked up to make eye contact with him. "I cannot stop you from contacting the finance department and requesting reconciliation, but I don't think it will work out well for you or for Chancellor Stone. You'll be paid at the adjunct rate going forward provided you sign the last page of the third set and agree to continue teaching two classes per semester."
Hamish gave a murmur of agreement and slowly worked his way through the papers.
Must be nice to love a woman so much you'd shrug off paying tuition for longer than necessary. Wait... were Hamish and Vera in love? Big L Love? Couldn't be.
Must be nice to be rich as hell. That had to be it.
Hamish signed the last page and Martha Duke from the Records Department handed him copies of everything then gathered up her folders and gave Hamish another appraising glance. "Is tenure your goal?"
He sighed. "I'm independently wealthy and I enjoy the flexibility of adjunct status. Chancellor Stone has no institutional power to elevate or destroy my future."
Martha smiled. "Not just smart but savvy. I see what she sees in you."
Hamish gave a fake laugh, a calculated douchebag sound that reminded Randall his buddy used phrases like 'vacation at the cape' unironically. "So you believe the rumor I'm in a relationship with Chancellor Stone?"
"As I said. Smart and savvy." She nodded approvingly. "I'll show myself out."
The door closed with a click that was somehow both soft and authoritative and Randall involuntarily shuddered. "So that was weird."
"You've never met Martha Duncan from Records before?"
"How have you?"
"I got my undergraduate degree and my masters here." He pulled the thickest folder to the top and brushed a finger over the gold school logo pressed into the leather. "And my PhD."
"Is that really your PhD?"
Hamish nodded.
"Congratulations Doctor Hambone."
"No."
"Doc Hamish and the Grand Mate-us."
"Never say that again."
"Weredoc?"
"Maybe."
Randall leapt across the room. A doctorate deserved a hug. "Fuck Magistratus. You're Weredoc Hamish Duke, fighting magic crime while improving your mind." He held his friend at arms length and prepared to run. "Smart and savvy. I see what she sees in you."