Game Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 3) (17 page)

The workers were forced to wear masks, and so a great deal of their individual expressions were covered.

April van Osdale had no mask—unless one wanted to make the point that her entire face was a mask—and so her individual expression was out there for the whole restaurant—truckers, riggers, drunks, farmers, and fishermen—to study and enjoy.

Which Nina did, from a corner table.

The woman stood frozen in the doorway, her silver pumps tightly glued to the floor, her beige jacket—good grief, she was wearing something not as bright as a celestial event—hanging limply upon her, as though the muscles and veins beneath it had instantly atrophied.

No. No doubt about it.

April van Osdale was just not a Dee Tee’s kinda gal.

“April! Over here!”

The head turned mechanically, eyes still glazed in shock, the small, turquoise purse that had been gripped tightly before her shifting subtly to her back, so that it would not be stolen, or at least not without a fight.

“Nina.”

Nina feared for her own name, which she’d never heard pronounced in such a way, and which had come out sounding like ‘Help me.’”

“Over here!”

April thought about the matter.

Between herself and Nina’s table lay the Andersonville Prison Camp.

But she was a trooper, if nothing else.

And so, with mincing, gingerly, deeply repentant footsteps, she made her way through the close-packed tables, as though they were the corpses of rotting confederate soldiers, who’d starved rather than partake of the mustard and ketchup bottles sitting upon them.

“Thank you so much for coming, April. I do appreciate it.”

“Unnnggggg,” answered April.

At least that’s what it sounded like.

“I know you have a busy schedule.”

“Rrrgggttttm.”

Finally April arrived, as did the waitress.

This was the same waitress who had waited on Nina and Jackson, some nights earlier.

“What can I bring y’all?”

“Just...just a salad,” said April.

“No meat?”

“No. Just a salad.”

“Ranch dressing?”

“A little vinegar and oil.”

“What?”

“No dressing.”

“None at all? We’ve got Thousand Island.”

“No, just the salad.”

“All right. And for you, honey?”

“I’ll have a breaded veal cutlet,” said Nina. “And an extra portion of cream gravy. Oh, and do you have calf fries?”

“We sure do!”

“I’ll have a side of those, too.”

“All right. I’ll get that right out!”

The waitress left. Nina said:

“April, I need to talk to you about these letters.”

“You mean concerning new Special Education appointments?”

“Is that what we’re calling them now? ‘Appointments?’”

“Well, that’s what they are.”
 

“Nina, these students are falling far behind in their classes. They’re holding everybody back.”

There was a pause; finally Nina said:

“We’re labeling these students as learning disabled because we don’t want them to take the tests, aren’t we?”

“Special ed students are not tested. Nor should they be.”

The waitress arrived, holding a purple headband.

“Ma’am?”

“Yes?”

“They other night when the basketball girls were in here?”

“Yes?”

“One of them left this. Thought maybe you might take it to her.”

“Sure. I’m not certain which one it was, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Good.”

She set the band down and asked:

“Y’all want anything else?”

“No. Thank you,” answered Nina.

The waitress left.

April van Osdale was staring at the band.

“What was she talking about?”

“A few nights ago the team ate dinner here.”

“The team?”

“The women’s basketball team. They came here and had dinner after the Portageville game.”

“At whose expense?”

Oh God
, thought Nina.

“Don’t worry, April. The school didn’t pay for it.”

“Then who did?”

Oh God,
re-thought Nina.

“Jackson Bennett.”

“Bennett…the school board president?”

“Yes. He’s also a parent of one of the players.”

“And the coach let this happen?”

Oh God
, thought Nina, for the third time.

It just gets worse and worse and worse.

“Well, the coach…”

“Who is the coach? What is his name?”

“Her name is Meg Brennan.”

“Was this Ms. Brennan not aware that financial benefits paid to student athletes are strictly forbidden? And that meals count as financial benefits? Nina, we could be placed on athletic probation because of something like this! Now once again, was Mr. Brennan not aware of the rules?”

“She…”

“Surely she must have known that. Did she not protest? How could she have let it happen?”

“Actually, she wasn’t here.”

“She what?”

“She wasn’t here.”

“Then where in Heaven’s name was she?”

And what could Nina say?

What could she say?

Nina, you idiot you idiot you idiot.

“She had left after the game.”

“Left?”

“Left why? To go where?”

“I don’t…”

“She just left the student athletes to get home from Portageville on their own?”

“It was a special occasion. Jackson came home with them, driving just behind. They were perfectly safe.”

“No thanks to Ms. Brennan! And what was this occasion?”

Don’t answer don’t answer don’t answer
…

…but you have to answer, don’t you, Nina?

Because you’re an idiot.

“She was driving to New Mexico. To get married.”

“Why New Mexico? Does her husband live there?”

Well, that’s about enough for one lunch.

Let’s just let it go, shall we?

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know why she went to New Mexico?”

“There were special circumstances involved.”

“Special circumstances.”

“Yes.”

“Do you realize, Nina, what could have happened to us if one of the students had somehow been injured? No coach present?”

“I guess I didn’t think about it. Jackson…”

“This is not Jackson’s affair. “

“I just…”

“And it’s not your affair now, Nina. It’s mine.”

“April. I’m truly sorry if I’ve…”

“You’ve told me what happened, to the best of your ability. That’s your job. I’ll look into the matter now. But…you must excuse me. I’m late for a one o’clock appointment.”

“Sure.”

“Thank you for the lunch. And once again, I’m sorry for not getting with you before the letters went out.”

“It’s all right.”

“Good day.”

“Good day.”

April van Osdale left the restaurant.

The waitress approached the table, looked down at the untouched salad, and said:

“She don’t eat no meat, does she?”

Nina shook her head and said:

“Don’t you believe it. She’s a cannibal.”

Then she looked at her meal for a while, took several deep breaths, cursed herself, and went back to school.

“It’s because I’m alone… If I could just feel it, it would be different, because I would not be alone. But if I were not alone, everybody would know it. And he could do so much for me, and then I would not be alone. Then I could be all right alone.”

                  
––
William Faulkner
,
As I Lay Dying

“Sometimes I lose faith in human nature for a time; I am assailed by doubt.”

                  
––
William Faulkner
,
As I Lay Dying

It was slightly after dark when she reached Elementals: Treasure from the Earth and Sea.

The place was locked, of course, Margot having left two days earlier for The Candles, where she spent most of her time these days.

That did not matter.

Nina needed, if not the presence of her best friend, at least the ambiance of that friend.

So she walked up the darkened stairs, rammed her fist down the metal cylinder labeled ‘Bannister Canister,’ took out the key that had been made especially for her, and unlocked the door.

The shop gaped at her.

There were only shapes hanging from the ceiling, standing by the windows, and sparkling softly in pale moonlight that filtered through the blinds.

She walked in, made her way to the cash register counter, and flipped the light switch.

An aura of orange light glowed around her.

She walked on, happy to be if not home again, then at least home-away-from home again.