Academic Curveball

by James J Cudney

  My stomach sank knowing it must have been Bridget all along. She worked in the communications department. She had a crush on Striker. She claimed her clarinet had been stolen. “Okay, Nana D, give me a few minutes. Don't hang up, yet.”

  I turned to Carla. “I might call you in a little while. Will you answer the phone, please? I need to know if there's anything else you can remember about Bridget.”

  “That's all I can think of, but sure.” As Carla wrote out her cell number on my free hand, my mind began to explode with connections.

  As Carla left, I heard Nana D speaking on the phone, then a large crash. “Bridget, what are you…”

  “What's going on?” I yelled in a panic.

  A few seconds later, I heard Nana D say, “Let's not be hasty, dear. We can talk this out.” Then a dial tone. Bridget must have walked in and seen what Nana D had found in the compost pile.

  I grabbed my jacket and dialed Connor to tell him what I'd learned. He would call the sheriff and meet us at Danby Landing. I drove as quickly as I could to save my nana. If anything happened to her, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. I love my parents, but the bond and connection I'd built with Nana D would always be the one I felt the most. She showed up in Los Angeles a few weeks after Francesca's funeral setting up camp in our small three-bedroom house to look out for Emma and me until we were ready to start a new life on our own. For the first few days, Nana D entertained Emma and taught her how to cook. There were days I couldn't even leave the bedroom. The thought of Nana D being caught in Bridget's web of lies was too much to bear.

  I slammed on my brakes and turned the ignition off in the Jeep. I didn't even bother to close the door and instead raced into Nana D's house. Upon arriving, I heard them talking in the kitchen. I stopped short in the doorway when I noticed Bridget holding a knife to Nana D near the back counter.

  “Please don't hurt her, Bridget. We can figure this out,” I said with little remaining breath.

  “I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt her,” Bridget replied. Tears streamed down her cheeks with genuine fear and concern for what she was doing. She must have known she was losing control.

  “Why don't you tell us what happened? Nana D's a great listener. She's always helped me figure things out.” I needed to keep her talking until Connor or the sheriff arrived. The more people to stop her, the better.

  “It just happened. I never meant to kill her. You have to believe me.” Bridget tightened her grip around Nana D's waist with one hand while her other pressed the knife against Nana D's throat.

  “Are you talking about Professor Monroe or Lorraine?” I asked.

  Bridget closed her eyes and bit her lip. “Professor Monroe caught me that night changing Striker's test results in her grade book. I was trying to help him out. I loved him. I wanted him to play in the game so the Major League Baseball scout would choose him.”

  “Tell us what happened, Bridget. Walk me through what you were thinking.” I watched Nana D struggle a little, but she looked relatively calm for being held hostage.

  “I was so angry when she failed him last semester. I'd changed his grade once before, but somehow Professor Monroe caught it and assumed she'd made the mistake. I thought if I could change his grade just one more time for that first exam, he'd be allowed to play in the opening game. I didn't think anyone would discover the switch until much later. By then, Striker would have impressed the scout, and it would all blow over.” Bridget pulled Nana D closer, and the tip of the blade landed against the small indentation near Nana D's windpipe.

  “I saw the original 'F' in the grade book. What were you doing to make the changes?”

  Bridget explained she'd stopped by on the evening of the retirement party to change the exam's grade but had gotten distracted by the jacket Coach Oliver had dropped off for Lorraine. She put it on pretending Striker had given it to her as though she was his girlfriend. “I had a blank copy of the exam and copied over some of his answers, then I altered a few to ensure it looked like he had a 'B+' instead of the 'F.' I had already put the new version back into the folder for Lorraine to enter into the student system. I was changing the mark in Professor Monroe's grade book when she found me in her office.” Bridget swallowed deeply internalizing the pain over re-living her crime.

  She hadn't fully thought the scenario through. Even if Abby hadn't caught her that night, Abby would've eventually realized it when she entered the grades into the student system. Bridget didn't know Abby never let anyone else access her class materials or students' exams and papers.

  “It's okay, honey,” soothed Nana D. “You wanted to help your friend, Striker. Is that all?”

  “Yes, he was always so nice to me in the beginning. I hated the way Carla Grey treated him. She's such a mean girl. I thought he would realize it one day and dump her. Be happy I was helping him. I left him all those notes, but he told me yesterday he never got them.”

  Coach Oliver had purposely kept a couple of notes from Striker so the kid couldn't ever be accused of knowing what was going on. I applauded the coach's efforts to protect the players, but if he'd told someone, none of this would have gotten out of hand. “What happened when Professor Monroe found you in her office?” As I stepped closer, Bridget gripped Nana D tighter around the waist.

  “She was very angry and accused me of working with Coach Oliver and Councilman Stanton to bribe the scout. I had no idea what she was talking about. Professor Monroe picked up the phone to call campus security. I freaked out. I didn't want to get in trouble and told her I wouldn't do it anymore. But she wouldn't listen to me. She said I needed to be punished, and that she would see to it.”

  “Is that when you did something to her?” I asked while noticing out of the corner of my eye Sheriff Montague approaching the back door. She held her finger to her lips and nodded to the side. I assumed that meant she had backup with her.

  “Professor Monroe started to dial the phone. I pushed her away to stop. We struggled for a few minutes, and that's when she ripped the jacket I'd stolen from Lorraine. She must have been scared and tried to leave. I followed her to the hallway begging her to give me another chance, but she wouldn't listen to me. As she was going down the back steps, something came over me,” cried Bridget. “I don't have anyone else, and she was going to take the only thing I had left.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Nana D reaching for something behind her on the counter.

  “My parents are dead. I have no real friends. I just had Striker and school. Professor Monroe would've blabbed about what I'd done. I'd be kicked out. I grabbed that stupid award from Lorraine's desk and ran after her. I hit her on the head thinking I had to stop her, then she fell down the stairs.”

  As Bridget broke down crying, Sheriff Montague snuck through the door. Nana D was able to reach a cherry pie she had cooling off on the counter. By the time Bridget realized what was happening, Nana D smashed the pie into her face. Sheriff Montague tackled them. I grabbed the knife from Bridget's hand during the commotion and backed away.

  Officer Flatman rushed through the front door and placed handcuffs on Bridget. Connor ran through the back door. I hugged Nana D finally able to breathe again.

  Sheriff Montague said, “We have her confession on Abby Monroe's murder. We just need to find out what happened with Lorraine Candito.”

  “What happens next?” I felt bad knowing Bridget was desperate and had no one to support her. I was furious she'd killed someone I cared very much for, but it wouldn't bring Lorraine back.

  “I'm going to take her in. She may not talk until her lawyer arrives. If she can't afford one, the county will appoint a public defender,” the sheriff replied.

  “There's no hope for me now. I thought Striker would finally give me a chance now that he and Carla are over. But he rejected me at the game yesterday. I have no one left and might as well tell you everything,” whispered Bridget. Officer Flatman had been leading her out the back door to read her Miranda rights when she stopped him. />
  “You should wait for an attorney,” Nana D replied still wanting to protect someone she'd grown fond of the last few weeks. “I'm disappointed in you, but don't get yourself into worse trouble, dear.”

  Bridget refused to wait for her lawyer to explain the details. Everything made sense once I heard the entire saga. After Abby fell down the stairs, Bridget panicked. She overheard Lorraine and Coach Oliver talking outside the door and rushed back up the stairs to hide the weapon. The first thing she could find was her clarinet case. She remembered seeing Lorraine hide a bottle of whiskey for my father behind a secret panel in his desk, so she went to the third floor and put her clarinet in its place. Then she put the award which was very similar in size and shape to the clarinet inside the case and hid upstairs.

  When Lorraine ran out after first discovering Abby's dead body, Bridget left with her clarinet case assuming she could come back for the actual clarinet the next morning. She rushed across campus and back to her dorm room where she convinced herself everything would be okay and everyone would think Professor Monroe had fallen down the steps and hit her head. She hadn't thought the award would leave a gash and pieces of metal on the body. The next morning, she went back to get it but saw all the police tape and couldn't get into the building. She transferred the award to her backpack and went to her music lesson with Nana D where she asked to borrow Nana D's clarinet. When lessons were done, she tossed the award at the bottom of the compost pile thinking no one would find it, and if they ever did, it couldn't be linked back to her.

  “And I guess when you went back to retrieve the clarinet, you reported it lost?” I said.

  “I thought everyone would just assume someone had played a practical joke on me, or there was a thief taking a bunch of things from the building,” cried Bridget.

  After the sheriff said Professor Monroe's death was an accident, Bridget thought she'd gotten away with it. Although she felt awful, there was nothing she could do but eventually find the clarinet and say it had been returned to her. Bridget then explained what had happened to Lorraine. When Striker was put on academic probation after we discovered his exam was a fake, Bridget went to Grey Sports Complex to leave another note for him and Coach Oliver saying she'd fix it again. While Lorraine was in the locker room, Bridget placed the note on the desk and left his office. She was walking down the hallway when suddenly Lorraine had come back to the office.

  “You hid in the conference room and overheard my conversation with Lorraine?” I said realizing Jordan had probably missed seeing Bridget by only a minute or two.

  “I thought I'd been caught. It was so hot in there, I needed to open the window. I couldn't get the lights to turn on. That's when I bumped into the table and chairs. Lorraine must have heard the noises after she hung up with you and came into the room,” Bridget said.

  “Did you push her out the window?” I asked hoping Bridget wasn't that cruel.

  “No, it was an accident. Lorraine approached me while I was near the window. We struggled in the dark. When I shoved her to try to get away, she fell through the window. I didn't mean to kill her.” Bridget wailed and tried to cover her face, but Officer Flatman had her hands held tightly.

  “Bridget was one of the last names on my list to investigate. Once I made a connection between the missing jacket, Bridget entering Grey Sports Complex just before the murder window, and how she worked in Diamond Hall, everything came together, especially after I spoke with Dr. Castle this morning. That's why I couldn't meet you at The Big Beanery,” Sheriff Montague said.

  “Myriam knew about Bridget being responsible for the murders?”

  “No, Bridget's name kept popping up in different conversations after Dr. Castle shared the fraudulent exam. Dr. Castle pulled some other papers from students in different classes and thought she'd found a match to the one that had been tampered with. I don't think she suspected Bridget of anything more than changing a few grades from time to time.”

  Once most of her team left, Sheriff Montague approached me. “You did a fine job today, Little Ayrwick. Officer Flatman let me know you followed all my rules earlier this morning. Thank you.”

  “You're welcome. I never expected Carla to reveal anything about Bridget flirting with Striker. Once Connor and Officer Flatman left, I thought we'd finish talking about her exam. I got lucky.”

  “What do you mean by that?” asked the sheriff. “I'm not sure I understand.”

  “Carla started flirting with me. I called her out, and she made some comment about girls flirting all the time,” I said thinking about how Sheriff Montague had spoken to Connor recently.

  “Not all girls behave like Carla Grey, Little Ayrwick. Some are much subtler when they're interested in a man.” Sheriff Montague briefly looked at Connor, then turned back to me.

  I don't think Connor picked up on it. If he did, he wasn't letting on. “I'd like to think so. When she mentioned a girl flirting with Striker, I asked more questions, and that's when it all fell into place.”

  “It's a good thing you were at the top of your game, Little Ayrwick. The Wharton County Sheriff's Office is grateful for your unrequested help, but I'll remind you in the future to stay out of my investigations. As you can tell, I am more than capable of solving things on my own.” Sheriff Montague asked Connor to walk her out so they could cover a few things.

  While the sheriff might have figured out it was Bridget in the twenty-four hours before I did, it wouldn't have been possible had I not been pushing for alternative suspects and discovered the issue with the grades. But I'd never get credit for it again. I would have to be happy with her minor concession when stating the Wharton County Sheriff's Office was grateful for my unrequested services.

  When I saw the murder weapon being bagged and tagged, my chest twanged as I recalled the conversation Lorraine had referred to earlier in the week. I'd forgotten how much I'd told Lorraine on the phone the day after I lost the award for my work on the first season of Dark Reality. I had called my father to reveal Derek had won not me figuring it would be easier to hear from me than anyone else. He wasn't available, and I'd vented to Lorraine about the whole thing happening right around Thanksgiving. I'm usually not myself around that holiday and have a hard time balancing my emotions. Lorraine was very sweet on the phone. She told me I was the only reason she watched the show and deserved to beat that nasty Derek what's-his-name. It looked like she had an exact replica of the award custom-made complete with my name. I appreciated the sentiment knowing how much I'd miss the woman.

  Nana D was fine, just a little shook up. She'd been brewing tea and defrosting cinnamon buns while the sheriff and I talked. “I guess we won't be able to eat the cherry pie I baked!” I laughed knowing there would be more in my future. After everyone else walked out, Nana D said, “Flirting with college girls doesn't suit you, Kellan. I thought I brought you up better than that.”

  “What? You were the one trying to set me up with Bridget. Last time it was a two-time bigamist, now it's a two-time murderer,” I whined. What leg did she have to stand on?

  “Pish. I never once did that. I knew all along Bridget was trouble, and that's why I pushed you together. I thought maybe you'd figure it out eventually, but you're still a little slow on the uptake there, my brilliant one. Maybe next time.” Nana D checked her cinnamon buns and said they were ready.

  I rolled my eyes at her. “For the record, I would never be interested in someone like Carla Grey.”

  “I sure hope not, Kellan. Things are already about to get ugly enough for our family.” A devious smile formed on Nana D's face. “No more bad connections, please. We've got things to accomplish.”

  “What did you do now?”

  “I heard a rumor Councilman Stanton is planning to announce he's running for mayor of Wharton County in the upcoming election,” she replied. “His role in all this crime was the final straw.”

  “Yeah, and what about it?” I could feel my insides starting to shake. She wouldn't.

&nbs
p; “He's no good. Someone needs to stand up to that man.”

  “What exactly does that mean, Nana D?” She couldn't possibly.

  “I've been polling a few folks around town, and well…”

  “Nana D, you can't!”

  “Oh, but I can. I've got a press conference scheduled one hour earlier than his tomorrow.” She slapped her hip and started dancing. “Let's go. Come help me pick out something to wear for my big news! Mayor Seraphina Danby has a good ring to it, doesn't it?”

  Chapter 26

  I spent the rest of Sunday afternoon answering questions for the sheriff, rehashing the entire experience with Eleanor, and preparing for Monday's classes. We needed to tell everyone on campus the truth, but it would have to wait until the public relations department sorted out all the details for their press release. I fell asleep early thinking I'd received enough shocking news since discovering Bridget was the killer and learning about Nana D's decision to run for mayor of Wharton County. Little did I know, Monday would be the day when the shocking revelations pushed me over the edge.

  I finished teaching my first broadcasting course in the morning. I only agreed to a one-year contract with the potential to renegotiate again. I still couldn't be sure how well my father and I would do working together, but I was comfortable enough to give it a shot given the school wouldn't allow someone to work directly for their spouse or family member. I was only able to work for my father on the conversion to Braxton University because there would be someone between us once they hired more staff. And I desperately needed that middleman until I heard about my future on Dark Reality from the television network. They said to wait two weeks while they decided my fate.

  In between classes, I spoke with Alton Monroe to confirm the details for Lorraine's funeral later that week. We'd partnered together to assemble a special remembrance service for a woman we both would miss greatly. Lorraine had been like an aunt to me, which made me realize how much I'd lost touch with my family in the last few years. I promised myself to do a better job and stay in frequent contact with everyone, even pull together a family reunion that summer.