Academic Curveball

by James J Cudney

  “I have nothing to do with it, I assure you. I can see you are no different than your father, Kellan, and I'll be certain to tell that to the next president. We can't continue to allow pompous men to work on this campus,” she growled while pushing me into the hallway.

  “How dare you say something like…” I stopped speaking when I heard another voice.

  “Maybe you two could keep it down? Students are arriving for classes below and can hear everything,” Connor said. “Perhaps we could sit down like civil human beings and have a rational discussion?” He extended his hand toward Myriam's office, and we all piled inside. “What seems to be the problem here?”

  “Mr. Ayrwick is under the impression that I'm a cold-blooded murderer, ruthless blogger, and I can't even begin to imagine what else will come out of his mouth next,” Myriam replied. “I'm going to report his behavior to the Board of Trustees, Director Hawkins. You're a witness to this unprovoked instigation on his part.”

  “I did nothing of the kind, Connor. You were there, you heard everything I said last night.” I left out the part about accusing her of being the blogger, but the woman had it out for me. As I reeled in my frustrations, I took notice of Myriam's chosen outfit that day. I couldn't help but admire how polished and poised she looked in her navy-blue, classically-tailored pinstripe pantsuit. It was the shiny gold camisole underneath that made the whole ensemble pop to my dismay. Just let me at the wig to see if it reads Tuesday.

  “Dr. Castle, he's telling the truth. The sheriff asked for anything that came to mind. Kellan didn't throw you under the bus at all, however…” After waiting for Myriam to settle in her chair, Connor added, “I also think everyone's on high alert after two unexpected deaths on campus. Why don't we agree to let this go?”

  “Fine,” Myriam replied adjusting the tortoise-shell glasses on her hostile face. “I'm willing to accept it wasn't intentional insubordination.”

  Insubordination? Did I work for her and if so, how had I missed that? I opened my mouth to object, but Connor interrupted. “Let's take a walk, Kellan. I've got a few things to discuss with you.”

  Myriam ushered us both out of her office, then shut the door. I followed Connor down the back steps to avoid the crowd beginning to assemble on the first floor of Diamond Hall. When we reached the door, I mumbled under my breath, “Never should have come back here.”

  Connor laughed. “Man, she gets under your skin. Shake it off. I've got some news to share which may cheer you up a bit. Although, it's not positive news on the whole.”

  His words intrigued me, but I soon learned why the news was a mixed message. Sheriff Montague authorized him sharing a copy of the note under Lorraine's body. It read:

  I hope you appreciate how much I've done to help the baseball team reach the championships this year. I understand how important it is to impress the Major League Baseball scout. I'll be sure to check next week's exam results, too, so there's no chance of the star player missing out.

  “That matches what Lorraine told me on the phone before she was killed. She had something to show me. She caught Coach Oliver or someone else writing the note to Striker,” I said.

  Connor nodded. “It certainly seems like this could be the reason she was pushed out the window. The sheriff doesn't think it's suicide anymore either,” he replied with a hesitant break in his voice. “But why would Coach Oliver put something like this in writing? Don't you think he'd pull Striker aside and tell him he took care of it? And why would the coach put it in his own office?”

  I considered Connor's input given he had a valid point. When I added together everything I'd learned, I had another theory. “There's no doubt in my mind Coach Oliver is somehow mixed up in this grade-changing debacle. What if someone is trying to make it look like Striker is part of the scheme? I got the distinct impression from a conversation with Jordan yesterday that he had it in for Striker.”

  “So, you think he changed the grades with the hopes it would make Striker look guilty and get him kicked off the team?”

  “Perhaps,” I said. “I'm concerned Dean Terry is involved, too. I saw her and Jordan speaking on campus yesterday in a secluded area.”

  “And now you suspect a college dean?” Connor said as we arrived at Grey Sports Complex. “Hasn't he been training both Jordan and Striker to be star pitchers?”

  “You've got a point,” I acknowledged. “None of this makes sense, but all of it looks suspicious and ties into what that blogger has been saying. I need to see how upset Coach Oliver is over Lorraine's death. Has Sheriff Montague questioned him, yet?”

  “Last night after you left. He came back to the building claiming he'd been watching several practices at Grey Field after Lorraine stopped by his office. He said he'd returned only for a few minutes to get his briefcase and go home. He looked quite shaken up over Lorraine's death.”

  “He's a liar,” I argued while preparing to leave. “I'll prove it right after I pay him a little visit.”

  “I admit you were right about Lorraine not being Abby's killer, especially now that she's also dead. The sheriff believes what Lorraine told you about the confrontation with Coach Oliver, but she has no proof.” Connor explained he needed to get to a meeting he couldn't skip, but he was working with the technology department to pull all the CCTV tapes and security access logs to Grey Sports Complex.

  “I appreciate it. Maybe they'll find out from that know-it-all computer system exactly who was in the athletic facility,” I replied feeling some encouragement from his words.

  “Just don't cause any more trouble. You've already annoyed one important member of the college in your attack on Myriam. Try not to get on everyone's bad side, Kellan.”

  I promised him I'd tread lightly with Coach Oliver, ignored the computer voice greeting me in reception, and made my way to the athletic director's office. He hung up the phone when I arrived.

  “We need to talk,” I said in my most serene voice picturing Connor yammering in my head.

  “Isn't the news horrible?” Coach Oliver waved me into his office and waited for me to sit in the chair opposite him. “Lorraine was an upstanding employee of this college.”

  “Don't even try to distract me. Lorraine told me you two had been dating for months. I know she confronted you last night,” I rattled off my frustrations in list form. I wasn't going to tell him specifically what she'd said in the hopes he'd trip up and reveal something.

  “Let's not be too speedy in our judgment. I didn't know Lorraine told you about us. We were supposed to inform the college since it'd been more than a few dates. I was protecting her,” he replied. A strange sadness accompanied his voice as he closed his eyes and scratched at his goatee.

  While Coach Oliver appeared genuinely upset over Lorraine's death, I wasn't there to comfort him especially when he claimed to be protecting her. He's the one who'd gotten in trouble in the past for harassment. “What exactly was your relationship with Lorraine?”

  “I'll tell you, but you have to believe me this sounds a lot worse than it is,” he replied while fidgeting with a pencil between his fingers. “Three months ago, I'd been called to your father's office to chat about getting a Major League Baseball scout to check out Braxton. Whenever I'd stop by, Lorraine and I had gotten to know one another better.”

  “She mentioned the same thing to me but that doesn't explain how Abby fit into the picture,” I countered feeling a little queasy over what I would hear next from Coach Oliver. “Or why a baseball scout would be interested in Braxton.”

  “At the end of last semester, Abby and I discussed Striker's poor performance in her class. She'd asked to meet me for a drink to say she would be failing him,” Coach Oliver said with remorse hiding in the nervous expression on his face. “I tried convincing her to give Striker another chance. I wanted to help the kid myself, but I don't know anything about communications or television history. I asked Abby to tutor him, but she wouldn't.”

  “Lorraine said you denied anything happened b
etween you and Abby. I saw you sneaking around her driveway last week.” When Coach Oliver looked away, I could tell he'd deceived Lorraine about the extent of his relationship with Abby.

  “You know how it is. Things happen. She was an attractive woman,” Coach Oliver said. “It was purely professional at first. We met a couple of times to agree on how to keep Striker on the team. Abby hinted she'd consider going easy on Striker when he took her class again this semester if I, well…” he hesitated, then smiled and bobbed his head a few times. “You know what I mean. I'm sure you've been in that position before, Kellan.”

  “Yes,” I said lying through my teeth. I'd never been in that position before, but I wanted answers and wasn't about to tell the man he was a disgusting fool. “How is it that Abby came to write in her journal about her feelings changing for you?” I wasn't sure if he knew about the entries but wanted to catch him off guard. I also didn't want to reveal her plan to expose him.

  Coach Oliver stiffened with a shocked gasp. “Huh? It was just a fun time. Nothing serious. I really do like Lorraine,” he said after releasing another heavy sigh. “I guess… I mean… did like Lorraine.”

  Although his expression became melancholic as if he'd finally accepted Lorraine's death, I had to press on. “Was Abby holding something over you?”

  “Abby knew I was dating Lorraine. She'd been listening outside my door and heard part of a conversation about Lorraine and I going away together in a couple of weeks. Sometimes she ignored me, other times she put pressure on me to spend more time with her and tell her all about the new technology and perks the athletic facility had received. It was only a few weeks where anything actually happened between us.” Coach Oliver kept changing positions and shifting his body weight. I was certain he hid vital information. He'd also avoided any explanation why the scout selected Braxton.

  “When was the last time you spoke to her before she died?” I asked.

  “The Friday before she died,” he responded. Something about the way he said the words told me he still wasn't telling the truth. “Abby called to tell me he failed his first exam again.”

  That explained why I found the 'F' in her grade book. “But ultimately, she passed him, right?”

  “I assumed Abby decided to make good on her promise,” Coach Oliver replied with a sly grin.

  As much as I wanted to pin both crimes on the pervert, I couldn't connect all the dots. He was guilty of something, but it might not be murder. “I appreciate you sharing this version of the story with me. Do you have any idea who could have killed Abby or Lorraine? Could Striker be responsible?”

  Coach Oliver shook his head. “No, Striker's a good kid. He may not be able to pass his exams of his own accord, but he's an amazing pitcher with a future destined for the big leagues. I can't come up with anyone else who had a motive. Maybe two different killers?”

  “I doubt that. Neither Braxton or Wharton County have ever had murders like this before. There's little chance of two deaths happening so close together without some connection,” I replied. “What about Braxton? Why is the scout here?”

  “I guess we just got lucky. I'm not sure,” he said hesitantly.

  I decided to stop questioning Coach Oliver for the time being. My best next step was to do a little digging into Striker's whereabouts during the times when Abby and Lorraine were murdered, but first it was time to meet my sister for lunch.

  Chapter 18

  “I'm so shocked,” an exasperated Eleanor said while we chatted in her office at the Pick-Me-Up Diner. “Lorraine was such a caring person.”

  “She was truly a genuine soul. I have to find out who could do something so horrible to her.”

  “I understand.” Eleanor paused to thank the waitress who dropped off two large dishes of a new beef stew recipe the chef was experimenting with for the upcoming weekend. When the waitress left, Eleanor said, “Does Sheriff Montague have any clue what happened?”

  “I haven't talked to her today, but I'll head over to the precinct later. I spoke with Connor earlier. He'll be going through all the security tapes and logs this afternoon.” I swallowed a huge spoonful of the stew, then quickly grabbed a glass of water. It was way too hot to eat, but the brief taste I'd gotten before my tongue began to burn was flavorful. “A little heavy on the red wine, maybe?”

  “I'll tell him. Chef Manny likes to go the extra mile sometimes.” She laughed and gestured like he enjoyed his liquor a little too much. “Speaking of Connor, any chance you talked to him?”

  “Yes, Connor was worried about me coming home,” I replied cautiously. I had to be honest with Eleanor, but I needed to be careful observing that fine line between revealing everything and saying just enough to let her think things through.

  “So, you were right. Is he looking for your approval to go out with me?” asked Eleanor while sampling the stew and letting me know it had cooled off enough. “You're not going to stop this, right?”

  I wasn't sure I had control. “There's more than me giving you two the all-clear.”

  Eleanor sank into the chair and pushed the plate away from the edge of her desk. “There's something going on with him and Maggie now. I'm too late, aren't I?” All the normal exuberance disappeared from her angelic face. I wanted to cast some magic spell and make the whole situation go away, but that wasn't likely. “The stars haven't shown me anything lately.”

  Just thinking about magic made me realize I hadn't talked to Derek about Dark Reality's second season. He'd be thrilled to hear about the latest murder. I reached across the desk for Eleanor's hand, but she was too far away. In an awkward moment of silence, we glanced at one another, and I relaxed back into my seat. “He's been out with Maggie a few times, but he has no idea where it's going. Connor wants to do the right thing. I suspect he likes you both.”

  “Really? You don't think he's letting me down easily,” she said perking up from her earlier wane.

  I nodded. “Possibly. You're going to have to talk with him about it yourself, but I wouldn't count yourself out of the game yet. You're a total package, who wouldn't want to go on a date with you?” Maybe I was in the wrong career. Should I be switching to life coach and matchmaker extraordinaire?

  Eleanor's mood improved, and she promised to let the news sit for a few days, then she'd give Connor a call to suggest meeting for coffee one evening. “I think you should do the same with Maggie.”

  “I'm not ready to date right now. Nana D's already trying to set me up with one of her music students, Bridget Colton. Know anything about her?” I reminded myself to reach out to Bridget to see if she had anything else to tell me about the inner-workings of the communications department. Maybe she saw something strange and didn't realize it was an important piece of the puzzle.

  “No, I don't know Bridget. Nana D hasn't mentioned her to me,” Eleanor said while finishing the remainder of her stew. “Add it to the menu or tell Chef Manny to try again?”

  “It's a keeper,” I confirmed as I handed the bowl to my sister. When Eleanor disappeared with the dishes, I checked my phone for any new messages.

  Nana D sent me a text to find out when I'd be by for dinner. I suggested Thursday evening which she agreed to as long as it was after seven because she had a meeting with the local miner's union and the head of the civic center that afternoon. I knew she was up to something and hoped it wouldn't end in disaster. She was still talking to every member on the board about the anonymous donations.

  Upon returning, Eleanor made a sound like she was going to vomit. “Were we ever that young?”

  I waited for her to sit before responding. “Define young. I thought we still were.”

  She waved at me to go peek out the window in the hallway by the kitchen. “Check the far corner outside at the two lovebirds making out. I understand being in love, but to go at it like that in the parking lot of a decent restaurant. I could be shut down for that sort of behavior.”

  I highly doubt the Pick-Me-Up Diner would be closed over two people
kissing outside and suspected it was how my sister had felt about anyone sharing a loving moment these days. Jealousy could be a big part of her frustration. When I peeped in the corner, I felt a pang of heartbreak for someone I'd come to know in the last few days. Poor Striker! Carla and Jordan were the two engaged in a passionate embrace. “Wow! Look at those two. I guess she and Striker are no longer dating,” I said returning to Eleanor's office.

  “It's not the first time I've caught them in the act,” my sister replied pulling her hair back and sighing. “They've been sneaking back there a few times late at night doing the same thing.”

  “Really? I thought she was Striker's girlfriend, but I suspected something might be going on between her and Jordan.”

  “This has to be tied into what you think is going on with Striker's grades and who played in the opening game, right?” asked Eleanor.

  Eleanor and I discussed the different possibilities of how the three students could be involved in the scheme to change the grades. There was a strong chance Abby had caught one of them and been killed so she couldn't tell anyone. “All I know is that when Myriam got hold of Striker's exam a few days later, she agreed with the 'B+' before uploading it to the student system. Every student's grade in Abby's book matched except for Striker's, I checked them all myself,” I replied noticing the time. As I stood to leave, another option came to mind, and as much as it seemed silly, I had to mention it. “Unless Myriam is lying and fixed his results so she could give him a 'B+.' Which I highly doubt is the case.”

  Eleanor laughed. “No chance of that. Dad says Myriam is a stickler about those things. Maybe the person changing the grades is not the same person who killed Abby and Lorraine. It could be unrelated, I suppose. You still don't know specifically what either woman knew about the discrepancies between the grades before they died.”

  Although Eleanor had a point, I was certain the two crimes were connected. I needed to check the exam Myriam graded when I was back on campus to verify I'd also give it a 'B+' and not an 'F.' It was time to discuss the latest news with my father since it clearly indicated there was something underhanded going on at Braxton. “I need to find out who wrote the note that Lorraine had with her when she fell out the window. It could be any number of people based on how vague it was written.” I hugged my sister for reminding me about the note and took off for the sheriff's office. “Sheriff Montague needs me to finalize a statement.”