“Wipe that smile off your face, Grace Kimball. You are in way too good a mood today for a woman who was boohooing just last week about the missing Jeff Maitlin.”
Grace collected all the toothpicks once again, and pushed the cards to TJ to shuffle. “It so happens Jeff is home to stay. He has plans to write a story about his past, thinking the simple act of writing may destroy some of his ghosts. He might or might not publish it. Also, he’s going to start work again on Lockwood House.”
“You seriously don’t have to look so smug. I know I had my doubts, but if he turns out to be legit, I’m good with it. By the way, it’s hilarious to see you’re blushing, Ms. Kimball, because it’s about time someone else on Sweetbrier Court had a strange car parked in her driveway all night. Thanks for taking the pressure off me. What will the neighbors say?”
Grace shuffled the deck of cards, considering how to reply. “If anyone asks, I’ll explain my cousin was visiting from Minnesota. It was a rental car.”
“That should work for last night.” She looked at Grace, grinning. “How many cousins do you have?”
“Oh, TJ, come on. It’s the twenty-first century, not the 1950s. Anyway, since he’s back now, you won’t have to worry so much about my being alone at the newspaper at night, at least the few nights I work late.”
“I’ll give you that.” TJ shuffled the cards, cut the deck and turned up the queen of spades. “What do you know about this Ellen Terry? There she is!” She pointed at the playing card.
“Why? I know she’s kind of strange, but what would she have to do with John’s death or Evan’s? She’s only been in town since last August.”
“She’s doing a play next weekend called Arsenic and Old Lace. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? And, for some reason, she’s involved in this teacher evaluation question. I’m getting differing opinions on her teaching abilities.” TJ flipped the queen of spades over, putting it back in the deck.
“Circumstantial at best. What were her means, motive, opportunity, or alibi, Madame Detective?”
“Very good questions, Grace. Let’s see. I’m not sure about her opportunity or alibi. She does have a key to the building—”
“—like everyone else who works there, and who knows how many other people? You’ll have to do better than that, TJ.”
“For her alibi, she says she was at home working on the blocking and the prompt book, whatever those are.”
Grace pointed at the deck of cards. “Deal the cards. A prompt book is what the director uses to record and diagram the stage movement, which is called blocking. Can anyone verify she was home?”
“No. She says she was alone. So, no alibi.”
“What motive could she possibly have? You said it yourself: her evaluation was quite positive.”
TJ picked up her cards, looking at them with a smile. “Didn’t you say you did some Internet searching on her last school?”
“Yes. I thought detectives were supposed to have poker faces. After that tell, maybe we should play for cash.” Grace took a card off the deck and threw one away. “I checked her old school in Nebraska. She put the same play on last year.”
“Is that usual?”
“Well, it means she wouldn’t have as much work to do if she repeated it. She would already have the prompt book to use as a guide. It does seem strange she left a full-time job at a private school for a part-time job here,” said Grace.
“Wouldn’t the pay be better?”
“Private versus public? Yes. But full-time versus part-time? Maybe she thought she could parlay this job into full-time over the next year or two.”
“Anything else interesting in your little research project?” asked TJ.
“Not much to report. The cast for the play was pictured in the local newspaper. That’s about it.” She discarded with a sour look on her face.
“I wonder how she found out about this job?” said TJ.
“My guess would be she saw it online on a database of available jobs since most teachers check on jobs that way, especially if they’re in another state. Maybe she wanted to stay in a small town. She seems like quite a character compared to the other, more conservative people on the faculty. But the kids like her.”
TJ examined her cards, then glanced at Grace, a speculative look on her face. “You know, I think I’ll have a little talk with Superintendent Johnson about her this week.”
“Why? You said yourself she doesn’t have a motive or the means. Why would she kill either of those guys?”
“Don’t know, Grace.”
“I think I’d go back to Liz Hardy. She’s got great possibilities as a suspect.”
“That she does. I have several things to check out this week, plus a number of people to interview, including Seth Atkins after what you told me from talking with Marilyn. I found out a couple of interesting bits of information.” She studied Grace. “Oh, stop smiling at your hand. How can I play cards and think about murder strategy too?”
Silence followed, broken by Grace’s phone playing the theme from “Jaws.”
“I thought you were going to change that,” said TJ.
Grace studied her cards. “I can’t think of a more appropriate ringtone for Lettie. I’ll call her back in a bit.”
“Anyway, after that story about Marilyn losing her school key that Saturday, I checked with some hardware stores. No one recognized a customer asking for a key that looked like the high school key. But I hit pay dirt in Woodbury with a store owner who recognized the key and a photo of Seth Atkins. He had a spare key made from Marilyn’s.”
“Really? Oh, TJ. Do you think he did it?”
“I can put him at the scene with the building key.”
“How?” asked Grace.
“I remembered Del Novak telling me he saw a dark sedan in front of the building Sunday afternoon. The license plate started with ‘SAM.’ Sure enough, Seth’s plate is ‘SAMA2.’ Seth Atkins plus Marilyn Atkins. Always a good idea not to get vanity plates, especially if you’re going to commit a crime.”
“You give me such good pointers, TJ.”
“Darn right.”
“So, you’re going to see him.”
“Absolutely. Next on my list.”
“Do you really think a sales rep would murder someone?”
“Human passions know no boundaries as far as day jobs, Grace. It could just as easily be a sales rep as a buttoned-down accountant—”
“Gin!”
“—or a police detective who lost once too often at cards.” She reached across the table, putting her hands lightly around Grace’s neck.
“Okay, okay, I get the picture!” shouted Grace, removing TJ’s hands. “Liz Hardy. I’m putting my money on Liz Hardy.”
TJ looked at her watch. “Gotta go. Jake is meeting me at work to go over the evidence and consider follow-up interviews.”
“I think I’m going to take photos of a play rehearsal at the high school this week. Ellen Terry thought it might be a good spread for the newspaper so they’d get some decent audiences. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open.” She put her finger on her lips, thinking for a moment. “You know, TJ, I think I’ll talk with Bob Godina about those teacher evaluations. I’d like to know more about what they’re doing these days when it comes to evaluating personnel.”
“Just be careful,” said TJ.
Later that afternoon Grace drove to Lockwood House to meet Jeff. As she left Sweetbriar Court, she realized the snow was melting considerably. She could see the bricks on the street, a sight she hadn’t seen in months.
“Amazing!” she said to herself. “Finally, a sign the weather won’t be like this forever.” She smiled at the thought that the first brick streets in Endurance were laid down in the late 1800s from Judge Lockwood’s brickyard. She had researched the subject when she looked up information on the judge and his second wife, Olivia Havelock. The town fathers began the brick paving at the public square, moving outward down Main Street. Before that, the streets were
simply dirt or—after it rained—mud, and the sidewalks were dirt or a series of wooden planks set down to save the dress hems and leather shoes of the town’s feminine population. Since Grace could see brick pavement, she considered how comfortable it was to live in a small town where history was all around her.
She passed a candy store that occupied two floors of an old brick building near the square. The building used to be the Lenox Hotel and Dining Room, a town institution during Judge Lockwood’s time—white linen tablecloths, waiters in starched shirts over sharply creased pants, and cuisine unrivaled all the way to Chicago. Driving slowly around the square, she passed the southeast quadrant, which was formerly a huge department store owned by the judge. The store had extended an entire block. Simon Barclay, an attorney who handled Olivia Havelock’s finances, had an office in the upper floor of the bank building that was owned by the Folger family for a great many decades of the town’s history. She glided past the Second National Bank, whose ownership was no longer in the Folger family, although the family still had a presence in the town. Once again, Grace reminded herself she needed to check on Emily Folger and her children.
Rounding the square, she turned onto Endurance Avenue, heading toward the college district. This was an area of Victorian houses, including Jeff Maitlin’s. Driving north on Second Street, she thought about how much easier it was to get there now that the streets were reappearing from under the winter’s snow. She glanced at two huge Victorians, one of which was the home of the president of Endurance College. Two people, plus a third person on a ladder, were taking down Christmas decorations, now that the weather was a bit more conducive to outside work. The second Victorian belonged to a local businessman who had renovated it ten years earlier. According to Grace’s research, it was said to be haunted.
Turning left onto Grove Street, she smiled as she saw Jeff’s car sitting in the driveway of Lockwood House. “Right where it should be,” she said out loud. Although the outside still looked in shambles, she was excited to think Todd would be back working on the inside once again. She parked her car and sat staring at the house in the lowering, late afternoon light. What a magnificent place this once was, she thought. Grace could picture it: the carriages pulling up to the front of the house, passengers alighting and moving across a path to the huge front door, and horses tied to a hitching post, patiently waiting, like sentinels. Now, the house still looked dark, she thought, but spring and front porch lights would brighten it up significantly.
She finally turned off her car, lifting a picnic hamper of food Lettie had made to take to Jeff’s. Even Grace’s sister-in-law was glad to have him back and still happier to see Grace no longer moping around the house. This would be a perfect afternoon to catch him up on the current history of recent weeks. We had too many other things to talk about in the wee hours of this morning, she thought with a smile. Hitting her door lock, she tripped across the street, turned around in a circle swinging Lettie’s basket, and danced at the thought that Jeff was back. She would make him forget his sadness and his memories of the past few weeks.
Chapter Twenty
The following day, Grace parked her car at Endurance High School. Stepping out into the slush and muddy water reminded her spring was somewhere out there.
She had called Bob Godina and he said he’d be glad to talk to her during his prep period. After checking in at the office, Grace climbed the stairs to the second floor. She shuddered briefly, remembering her trip up these stairs with TJ the night of Evan Harrington’s death.
Passing Evan’s classroom, she glanced in and saw a young woman at the white board, pointing to a formula. Gee, thought Grace, they seem younger every year. She walked toward Bob’s earth science room, farther down the hallway, and turned into his doorway.
Bob got up from his desk saying, “Come on in. I don’t have students for another forty minutes. It’s really nice to see you again, Grace.”
Glancing at the huge stack of papers on Bob’s desk, Grace felt her shoulders relax at the one thing she didn’t miss: grading. She set her purse down on the floor and sat down in a desk across from Godina. Glancing around, she noted all the displays on a table by his desk and charts on the walls detailing types of rocks and periods of geologic time. He sat quietly waiting for her to speak.
“I was hoping, Bob, you could fill in some answers for me about the new teacher evaluation system,” she said.
“The teacher evaluations? Hadn’t expected that request. Why on earth for?”
“I’m interested in how the new system works. I know it hasn’t been long since I was here teaching, but these new evaluations were never something I knew about. I understand the percentages of classroom instruction plus student test scores add up to a total evaluation, but the test scores are less important—thank goodness—than the classroom observations.”
“Yes. The district decides on a combination of test scores. Some are standardized tests like the ACT test, while others are made by the district, and still others are individual teacher-made tests.”
“I think I’m most interested in the last one. I’m looking for places where people could cheat.”
Bob’s face became more serious, and he cocked his head slightly sideways. “You’re following up on that rumor I heard?”
“Maybe. I’m trying to check out every possible angle. People like you make up a test for students to take early in the year; but then they have a follow-up test later after you’ve taught the material, right?”
“You’re right,” said Bob. “Four of us teach freshman general science, so we share the same curriculum and the same test. We made up the test together.”
“Do you grade the tests your own students take?”
“We do. We’ve already given a first semester pre-test, plus a follow-up test, and we’ll repeat that this semester. I grade my own students’ tests, as do each of the other teachers, and we report the scores to the office. Mr. Hardy—” He paused, closing his eyes a moment. “Alex Reid will get the second-semester scores like John got the first-semester scores.” He shook his head slightly. “Sorry. Seems such a habit to say ‘Mr. Hardy’. ”
“I’m curious. John said he was suspicious of a teacher cheating on those test evaluations, right?”
Bob thought for a moment, rubbing his hand over his mouth. “Yes. But he didn’t tell me who. Maybe, a month ago. I remember he said he was going to check on it. He—” Suddenly he drew in his breath and looked at Grace with shock on his face. “You don’t think someone killed him because of evaluations, do you? That’s absurd.”
“I’m not sure. I know the evaluation controversy seems to be a thorn in everyone’s side; the timing makes me wonder because the personnel reports to the board are due almost momentarily. This is the time of year for that. Before the March board meeting, the superintendent was supposed to hear from John about his recommendations. That’s coming up soon. The timing seems curious.”
“Makes sense,” Bob said, nodding his head. “I’ve been thinking about the rumor that Evan was going to get a poor evaluation. I can’t believe it for a minute. John had nothing but good things to say about Evan, and I had a prep period with him. I think I’d know if he was in trouble. He wasn’t, Grace. He was certain he’d be rehired, that his evaluations would continue to be positive.”
Grace thought about this idea, which had been repeated by several people now. If Bob were correct, someone had switched copies of Evan’s true evaluation for a false one. “Bob, who else has a prep period with you besides Ellen Terry, Evan, Alan Gladley, and Sally Wenstrom?”
“Oh,” Bob looked off over Grace’s shoulder, considering the answer. “I can think of two other people—Marilyn Atkins, Ginny Shadley.”
“Ginny is up on the science floor, isn’t she? She teaches biology. Another person with third-floor cabinet keys.” She paused in thought. Then she said, “Bob, I need to ask you something else about the evaluations before I forget.”
“Sure. Anything.”
&
nbsp; “How did Hardy conduct classroom evaluations?”
Bob opened a drawer in his desk and took out a paperback book. “This is a description of how the system works. Evaluations aren’t like they were when you were here, Grace. I’ll lend you this book so you can see it in detail. The principal, or whoever is a certified evaluator, looks at four domains: Planning and Preparation, Classroom Environment, Instruction, and Professional Responsibilities.”
Grace took the proffered book and examined the page Bob had bookmarked. She scanned the page quickly. “You’re right. This is much more formal than I remember.”
Godina nodded. “At the beginning of the year, John put out a schedule of who would be evaluated and approximately when. He uses four standards: excellent, proficient, needs improvement, or unsatisfactory. If someone received unsatisfactory in two or more areas, he would have to have a meeting. A whole lot of paperwork would result and a plan for improvement would be drawn up. Or, with a first-year teacher, if he were deficient enough, John might let him go. Fire him. He could do it only if he thought the teacher had no chance of improving. Obviously, that doesn’t happen often.”
“And he had to do this for everyone?”
“Not all teachers. Evaluation would be on a two-year cycle, and people who were here the shortest amount of time, like Ellen Terry or your replacement, Jaski, would be seen more often.” He blinked several times, remembering something. “Oh, sometimes John would even do an informal walk-through.”
“So, if a teacher was disorganized or didn’t get his test scores in on time, he might get an unsatisfactory on Planning and Preparation,” Grace said.
“Correct. But Instruction is the most important of the domains. A teacher getting an unsatisfactory on Instruction is in deep trouble.”
Grace pursed her lips and leaned forward. “This may be breaking a confidence, but since John has passed away, could I ask you if he ever talked to you about unsatisfactory teachers?”
Death Takes No Bribes: An Endurance Mystery (Endurance Mysteries Book 3) Page 16