“Sure. I guess.”
We strolled to an unoccupied area of the large room. “Have you had a chance to see Jenny since last night?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Saw her this morning. She’s just real wasted, though.”
“I’m sure. Listen, Brian, I know this is a bad time for me to bring this up, but it’s even more important now to know the truth about how you got those keys to Dave Paxton’s room.”
He furrowed his brow and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his chinos. “From Jenny, like I said in my note.”
“You said a lot of things…that you’d gotten them from Dave Paxton, that you’d—”
“The thing between me and Corinne was blown way out of proportion. Why would she give me keys to the office she shared with another teacher at school? Why would I want them?”
“By the same logic, why would Dave have given them to Olivia?” Or, in a possibility with awful sexual implications that just occurred to me, to Jenny Garrett? I kept the last question to myself.
Brian frowned. “I don’t think Dave knew Mrs. Garrett had his keys. Jenny says that caused one of the fights she had with her mom…that her mom thought it was hilarious to have stolen them out of Dave’s desk.”
“That who stole the keys?”
“Olivia. She wanted to keep tabs on his paintings when he wasn’t there.”
“Why would she—”
Brian lifted his chin in a distant greeting to some other teenager across the room. He said quietly, “Jenny’s great, but her mom was a real witch. A couple weeks ago Jenny swiped the keys back from her mom and was going to return them to Paxton’s desk, only she chickened out. That’s what we were doing when you caught us…returning his keys.”
I sighed, wondering if I could ever know for certain if this was the truth. Brian must have read the skepticism in my expression, for he said, “I’m telling you the truth, Molly. I wasn’t going to sit there in Vance’s office and force Jenny to make excuses for her mother, like always.”
By now Jim was heading toward me, and I knew we should get back home to the kids soon anyway. “Okay. Thanks, Brian.” I believed him.
We had a quiet weekend for a change, though the ply wood blocking the southern light in my kitchen was really getting to me. Bright and early Monday morning, Pauncho and Oops came over to complete the “finishing” work inside, which would presumably include a real door, while the other two workers installed the glass panels that formed the walls of the sunroom.
Mid-afternoon I was working away on a card when it finally hit me that a good half hour had passed with no pounding rap music or pounding nails. Sure enough, they were gone. I went out and inspected their work, which was (surprise!) not good. Partway through my formulating a mental list of complaints the doorbell rang.
It was Danielle Underwood. I braced myself as I opened the glass outer door, dreading another dressing-down for talking to her son yet again.
She smiled, her dark eyes meeting mine, but I remained guarded. “Good afternoon, Molly. I have your new vertical blinds in the trunk of my car.”
“That’s great that they’re ready so soon, but there’s no sense in installing them just now. We don’t have the carpeting yet.”
“Suit yourself, of course, but I’ll be leaving town during spring break next week and I’m heavily booked till then, so it’s either now or three weeks from now.”
“Eww,” I muttered. This was going to be badly timed. Jim and I were going to put the carpeting in ourselves, but we hadn’t purchased it yet and weren’t planning to until Saturday, which meant two weeks with a room finished except for the blinds.
“Tell you what. I’ll go ahead and install the runners and the valances. Those are the only hard parts of the installation. Then you can decide if you want me to go ahead and install the vanes, or put them in yourself once the flooring’s complete. The vanes just snap into place. There’s nothing to it.”
“That sounds good. And I even have a door now, so you can get into the room without having to go outside.” As I escorted her to my kitchen I continued, “Of course, the door was hung wrong, so it closes at an angle, but at least it opens and latches shut. I’m learning to lower my standards.”
“You shouldn’t do that, Molly. You should insist that the job be done right, or you’ll withhold payment.”
“Words to live by.”
“My work is always perfect, Molly. So if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be done in two hours.”
I went to my basement office to continue my work, and returned to the sunroom in just over two hours. She had installed the vanes, as well, and was snapping the last pair into place when I entered the room.
Hearing me approach, she stepped back to survey her work, hands on her hips, wearing a satisfied smile. “They look great, don’t they?”
“Yes, but I thought you weren’t—”
“I realized I wanted to make absolutely certain your blinds were the correct length. If they’re in your way, you give each one a slight twist like so”—she demonstrated—”and they come right off.”
Watching her, I thought to myself how flattering her recent haircut was and wondered who her stylist was, then realized I’d already missed the pertinent part of the demonstration—something about “a slight twist.” Removing a strip did look easy when she did it, but then, this was her job, so she’d had lots of practice. She popped the vinyl strip back into place. Compared to the various troubles I’d had with Chester’s men, having the vanes installed ahead of schedule wasn’t something to complain about.
She led the way back into the kitchen and picked up the curtains that had once been over the window and were now atop the stack of papers on the desk. “You don’t need these curtains anymore, do you?”
“No, I was just using them as a temporary dustcover while the room was being built. They’re faded and dusty. I was just going to throw them out.”
“I’ll take them, in that case.” She swept them up and began to fold them, setting free a great cloud of dust in the process, which she ignored, but which made me sneeze.
I grabbed a tissue and asked, “You collect fabric scraps?”
“No, but I know someone who does. Nadine Dahl. She makes them into dresses for her dolls.”
“I doubt she’d want my curtains. The fabric’s old and in poor condition.” Not to mention filthy.
“That’s how she likes it. It makes her doll dresses look antique, and she sells them for more money that way.”
“That’s dishonest. Why are you helping her defraud her customers?”
She gave me a nonchalant shrug. “I need to be on the woman’s good side. It’s a mutual thing, really. I help her out with this, she keeps me informed of the goings-on at Carlton High.”
“Just like Chester, hey?”
She froze and searched my eyes. “Chester? What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know if it’s true, but the rumor is that Nadine’s giving student transcripts to Chester, for some reason.”
“Student transcripts?” she repeated, alarmed. “Oh, crap! She’s got this program she runs on the computer to analyze grades for each teacher in the school. It lets her know which teacher gives the highest score for which class. That’s what she’s doing for me. Supposedly exclusively. That two-timing bitch!”
“How can you get mad at her for doing that for Chester when she’s doing the same thing for you?”
“Because the agreement was I give her old cloth and keep my mouth shut about her so-called antique dolls. In exchange, she gives only me the information about which class to put my son in each year so he can get the highest possible GPA. That information is useless if she’s giving it to all of the other parents as well.”
“Maybe she’s not. Maybe the rumor…” I let my voice fade. For all I knew, she could be peddling grade information to hundreds of parents. I was stunned to think that there were at least a few parents who would care so much more about their child’s grade than their edu
cation that Nadine could actually find a use for her computer program. “Why are you and Chester dirtying your hands just to give your child the inside edge over the other?”
“Elsbeth’s doing the same thing. Why do you think her daughter enrolled in Dave’s art class? Because Elsbeth knew he gave out As like candy, that’s why. Hell, I’ve got my son taking art history from Dave, because Brian can’t draw worth beans. But that boy can make angels weep with his piano playing.”
I was so appalled that I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “If the angels are paying any attention to the goings-on at Carlton High School, they’re already weeping.”
Danielle gave me a piercing look, then set her lips and headed toward the front door. As she opened the door, she looked at the curtains that were still in her hand, flung them onto the floor, and let herself out.
“That was unpleasant,” I said to BC, who was barking in agreement. So much for getting the name of Danielle’s hair stylist. More to my immediate concern, however, someone had to put a stop to Nadine.
I tried to call Lauren at the office, but Nadine answered. I held my nose to disguise my voice and asked if I could speak to Lauren.
“Molly? Is that you?” Nadine asked.
“Yes. I hab a cold.”
“Must be going around. Lauren’s home sick with one, too.”
“Thanks. ‘Bye.” I hung up and called Lauren at home. “You’ve got a cold?” I asked her the moment she answered.
“Kind of. I had a sore throat when I got up this morning, but I don’t feel too bad after all. I’m going to go in tomorrow on my usual day off to compensate. What’s up?”
“Just wanted to warn you that if things go my way, you’ll be minus one full-time secretary by then.”
“What do you mean?”
“I already told Jack that I suspected Nadine was taking bribes from Chester to see the student transcripts. I didn’t have any proof, and anyway, that wasn’t such a big deal in the first place. Now I know that in exchange for cloth, she runs some program that allows her to advise Danielle Underwood which classes to put Brian in so he can get the best grade point average.”
“Cloth?”
I didn’t feel like explaining further, and said nothing. “I should tell Jack about this, too, don’t you think? I can’t stand the thought of someone selling information about grades.”
“Absolutely. I don’t know school policy on accepting bribes in exchange for information about grades, but it might be grounds for dismissal.”
“Okay, then. I’m going to go down to Jack’s office now and tell him about this face-to-face.” I hesitated. “By the way, how are things with Jasper and his new girlfriend?”
“Great. But he says he doesn’t want to jinx things by letting us know her name.”
“That sounds reasonable. So I think I’ll keep my mouth shut, too.”
She laughed. “Molly, since when have you ever kept your mouth shut just because that was reasonable?”
“Now’s a good time to start.”
“I’d tell you if this were Nathan.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t want to know,” I countered.
“But I do. So tell me.”
“I’m not absolutely positive, but I think it’s Tiffany Saunders.”
There was dead silence on the line. “Lauren?”
“Of all the girls at Carlton High, she’s got to be the last one I would have …Who could have expected those two to get together? They’re so different. I mean, it’s just so…weird.”
“I sort of got them talking to each other during their art class last week. So I’m somewhat responsible.”
“Oh.” There was another pause, then to my surprise, she chuckled. “Imagine what Stephanie’s reaction is going to be…her daughter dating a future cop.”
“My part in bringing the two of them together was unintentional, but I have to say, they make a pretty cute couple. I’m glad you’re not mad at me.”
“You’re about to march into Jack Vance’s office and take on Nadine Dahl. You’re going to need all the friends you can get.”
A moment after I hung up, Karen and then Nathan arrived home from school, delaying my departure. I explained that I needed to get to the high school before everyone left for the day. Fifteen minutes later I arrived at the school office and let myself inside. Though the students had gone, Nadine was still there, and peered up at me from her seat at her desk. “I told you Lauren’s home sick today.”
“I know. I’m here to see Jack.” His door was open, and I could see him at his desk.
“You seem to have gotten over your cold pretty fast,” Nadine said snidely.
“The wonders of Echinacea.”
“Come in, Molly,” Jack called, rising from his seat.
I took a step inside, then looked back at Nadine. “You know, Nadine, so many people have been doing things behind one another’s back that it bugs me. Why don’t you come with me and hear what I have to say about you to Jack?”
“About me?” she asked nervously. Then she stood up and assumed a confident air as she came into Jack’s office with me. We took the two chairs that were situated right in front of his desk, while he reclaimed his seat.
“What’s this about, Molly?” Jack asked, his eyes going from me to his secretary.
“Nadine has been accepting bribes in exchange for information about teachers’ grading tendencies.”
“Bribes? What are you talking about?” Nadine asked, her surprised reaction unconvincing.
“Aged fabric for your pseudo-antique doll clothes from Danielle Underwood. Twenty dollar bills from Chester Walker.”
“Is this true, Nadine?” In my opinion, he was doing a better job of acting surprised than Nadine, and he’d known some of my accusation for several days now.
Nadine pursed her lips, then said, “The parents have a right to know which teachers are the easiest graders. Their taxes pay for the teachers’ salaries!”
“Lots of people pay taxes, not just Carlton High parents,” I fired back to her. “That doesn’t give anyone a license to manipulate the system. Or you the right to sell the names of the easy graders. What’s next? Hundred dollar bookmarks for you to tweak someone’s transcript scores?”
“Could you excuse us, please, Molly?” Jack asked. His expression was inscrutable.
Nadine held up her hand. “No, there’s no need for you to send her out of the room. I’ve had enough of working for you. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get fired for going on three years now. Hell, I’ve been coming into work tipsy for the last two months. Haven’t you noticed the whiskey bottle in my bottom drawer?”
“I’ve told you before that you needed help,” Jack replied.
She sprang to her feet. “I don’t need help! I’m not an alcoholic. I might be by the time you take action, mind you, but I didn’t start out that way. This is a high school, for God’s sake!” Nadine leaned down and gripped Jack’s desk, her cheeks flushed. “Why have you let me get away with bringing alcohol on school premises?”
“I confiscated the bottle every time, didn’t I?”
“And I’ve all but rubbed this in your face. What more will it take? Fire me, Jackie boy!”
“I’ll go wait outside,” I muttered, slipped out of my chair and skirted out the door.
I sat in Lauren’s chair. Jack’s door was shut tight, so I couldn’t hear any of the conversation going on inside his office. Not five minutes later Nadine emerged, sporting a wide smile. She laid a hand on my shoulder.
“Thank you, Molly. I’m finally free of this joint!” She walked around me, plopped into her desk chair, which was on wheels, and splayed her arms and legs as she pushed herself away from her desk and spun in a circle.
Apparently she was “a little tipsy” now, as well. “Why didn’t you just quit?”
“A couple of reasons,” she replied casually. “I was scared to leave a regular paycheck behind in order to pursue my dream—making a living with my doll business. Mostly
because I need unemployment compensation to tide me over till I can get my business on its feet.” She released a big sigh. “You can’t imagine what a relief this is.”
“Great, Nadine. That’s just what I want my tax dollars to be doing, too. Helping you to enjoy your unemployment.”
“That’s how the system works, Molly. And it’s finally working for me. When you see Lauren, tell her she’s going to have to work full-time till they can get a replacement for me. And you’d better tell her to look very closely at the seniors’ transcripts.”
“Why?”
“You already answered that, back in Jack’s office.” She got up and started collecting some personal items from her desktop. “Thanks again. Like I said earlier, in spite of everything, Molly, you’re my favorite parent.”
I glanced behind me. Jack Vance was standing in the doorway of his office, listening to this.
“Jack, do you mind checking her keys before she goes?” I turned back toward Nadine. “As your ‘favorite parent,’ I’d just like to make sure you don’t have the keys to the art room and to the building, for free use of the kiln.”
She glowered at me for a moment, then lifted her palms. “By all means. Check for yourself.” She shoved her key ring toward Jack Vance and dumped the contents of her purse on her desk for extra measure. “You want to frisk me while you’re at it?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Jack intoned as he studied each key. “I’m just going to double-check this set against Dave’s door. I’ll be right back.”
We waited, the tension palpable and highly unpleasant. Nadine packed her belongings in silence, using a box that she’d apparently kept at the ready in the small corner closet. “I didn’t kill either of those women, and I don’t know who did. But you know what, Molly? You may have helped save my life in more ways than one. Not only am I finally free from this stressful, heart-attack-generating joint, but now I’m out of the killer’s immediate circle. So if there’s yet another victim, it’s not going to be me.”
Death at a Talent Show (Book 6 Molly Masters Mysteries) Page 16