Sea Change (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 1) (13 page)

The tone of the conversation, Nina sensed, was now to become more serious.

“Nina––”

A slight lean forward across the table.

“Nina, your friend is perfectly wonderful.”

“Yes, she is.”

“And I’ve enjoyed meeting her; I must tell you, though, I’m a bit relieved to have the chance to talk to you alone.”

Nina could think of absolutely nothing to reply to this.

‘I’m relieved too,’ would have been a possibility.
 
Except she was not.

‘What’s on your mind?’ would have been another possibility.
 
Except that it sounded too chatty, and that it was unnecessary, since the woman was clearly going to tell Nina what was on her mind—and that Nina didn’t really care anyway.

No, nothing to say.

Not long to wait though.

“I feel—I’ve always felt—that you are the elder statesperson in the village here.
 
I knew when I saw you at the reading of the will in New Orleans that you represented, almost embodied, Bay St. Lucy.”

“I’m flattered.
 
I’m not sure that’s true though.”

“Oh yes it is. Every moment I spend in the town makes me more certain of the fact.”

“Well.
 
I did teach here for a long time.”

“And people respect that. They really do. That’s why I would like to kind of—well, ‘use’ you. That’s the only appropriate word.
 
I hope you don’t mind my imposing on our relationship in such a way.”

“No.
 
If you think I can be of use.”

“I certainly think that.
 
I think you can be essential.”

Almost involuntarily Nina glanced over her shoulder, and saw two things:
 
first she saw Margot walking toward the incoming tide—which was bizarre in itself, since Margot hated the sand—then stop, and, with amazing strength and perfectly professional form, hurl a black object at least one hundred feet into the waves.

Second, she saw Furl peeking out from behind a fern that had somehow found itself shading a magazine stand, in the corner of the room.

Furl’s eyes were staring out of a tangle of green foliage and colorless glossy advertising,

Were they glaring with hatred, or did Furl simply need to go out on the deck to use the litter box?

“The main point is, it’s been two weeks that I’ve been here now. I’ve been in what seem countless meetings.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I have to tell you, I have wished for you.”

“I wouldn’t have been much help.”

“Oh I think you would have been. The voice of reason, that kind of thing.”

“It’s more likely I would have been in the way.”

“No, dear.
 
Not at all.
 
But I do feel I have to share some things with you.”

“Good,” said Nina.

Uh oh
, thought Nina.

“First.
 
Four days ago I sat in on a presentation given by the high school principal.
 
I believe his name is––”

“Paul Cox.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s it! Several other members of the school board were there, but it was Paul who commanded the most attention.”

Why
, Nina thought,
are you calling him ‘Paul?’

You don’t know him well enough to call him ‘Paul.’

Or do you?

“Well, Mr. Cox is a very charismatic principal, and very supportive of his teachers.”

“Oh, I can see that! But the vision he laid out for a new school was truly astonishing. Whether that can actually be accomplished or not is—well, you know, everyone has a wish list.”

Yes,
thought Nina.
And a lot of people are wishing basically the same thing about you.

“But the thing that stood out in my mind was Paul himself.
 
He’s—well, he’s a cut above what one usually finds in village life.”

“I suppose you could say that.”

“I found myself visualizing ways he could be useful to Bay St. Lucy.
 
And to myself.”

He could be useful to Bay St. Lucy, Nina mused, by continuing to be the high school principal.

How he could be useful to you, I don’t want to even consider.

“He has ‘corporate’ written all over him. He’s a man who walks into a room and commands attention.
 
Don’t you agree?”

“Oh yes.
 
Mr. Cox is special.
 
No doubt about it.”

“I’m so glad we’re on the same page on this.”

“I think we definitely are,” Nina replied, thinking all the while:

You’re going to seduce Paul Cox.
 

You’re going to wait until that damned mansion is fixed up and ready. And you’re going to invite him over there.

And you’re going to bed with him.

You’re not even going to have the decency to shack up with him over in Biloxi or Falls Cove, the way he did with Macy.

“We’re definitely on the same page,” Nina continued, rather than say I HATE YOU DIE I HATE YOU DIE I HATE YOU DIE.

Because she did.

She hated the woman sitting directly across the table from her more than she had ever hated another human being, except for principals.

And of course, that was a different thing entirely.

It was also a difficult thing to explain.

Why did she realize so clearly that this woman, for all her honeyed tones and sugared words, was utterly evil?
 
Was it jealousy?
 
Was she jealous of the woman’s astonishing beauty?

No, everyone was more beautiful than Nina, and she did not hate everyone.

Was it because she was a stranger?

No.
 
No, because she did not seem to be a stranger.
 
She seemed to be someone Nina had known her entire life,
 
hating her every second.

You cannot
, Nina found herself thinking,
be prejudiced against a person who has done nothing bad to you; or to anyone else you know, for that matter.

Then she looked again at Eve Ivory.

Then she said to herself:

Of course you can be prejudiced against her.

It is, in fact, the only concrete thing you can do.

Except sit here and listen.

Which she did, for fifteen or so minutes more.
 
She heard about the various city council meetings, about the zoning meetings, about the plans for allowing people to own property they had up to now been renting, about the new fire station, the new improvements to the admittedly small but still useful marina, the new visitors’ bureau—

––and the proposal, made by Allana Delafosse, concerning the cultural center of Bay St. Lucy.

Said center being the actual Robinson mansion itself.

As Eve Ivory paraphrased it, Nina could actually picture Allana herself, standing at the same podium in the library where Tom Broussard had insulted every writer in the village, and holding forth in bizarre and incongruous vowel elongations:

“Here, in these rooms, could be housed a THEEEE ah tah. And here a small nook, where the writers’ group might meet.
 
The larger rear salon could be given over to chamber music concerts. With such a maaahvellus range of acoustics––”

Yes, she could hear Allana, saying all of these things.

And thinking they were going to come about.

And not at all visualizing the condescending smile which now spread across the face of Eve Ivory as she said:

“Such a
colorful
woman!”

“Yes.
 
Allana is certainly that.”

“And you cannot fault her intentions. Except—when I think of the renovated mansion, with gold inlaid fixtures and oaken bannisters, carrara marble floors—when I think of children running around in there––”

She used the word ‘children’ as anyone else might have used the word ‘squid.’

“Well, like I said. I appreciate Ms. Delafosse’s efforts.
 
As I do those of the rest of the village.
 
And I have tried to be a good listener, really I have.
 
But Nina—here is where I may need your help.”

“All right.”

“Not everyone can be pleased.
 
The wish lists cannot all be fulfilled.”

“Of course not.”

“I must do what I think is best for the village in the long run.”

“Certainly.”

“And when the difficult decisions are in fact made, I need you to intercede in some measure between me and any villagers who may be—well––”

“Mad.”

“Yes.
 
Although I do hope it won’t come to that.
 
Allana Delafosse spoke of you during her presentation. She talked of using teachers—even retired ones such as yourself—to lead the Young Writers’ Program. And of course there is no reason why that cannot happen.”

“I would hope not.”

“No, no reason at all.
 
It’s just––”

There was that smile again.

“Just not in rooms with emerald inlaid mirrors.”

“No.
 
Of course not.”

“So—do you see what I’m asking you?”

“I think I do.”

“And may I count on your support?”

“I really don’t know what to say.
 
I’ll try my best to make the folks realize that not everybody can be satisfied––”

“That’s all I’m asking.”

“You realize, though, that a lot of these people have lived their entire lives here. They’re used to Bay St. Lucy the way it is now.”

“That’s gone.”

The smile disappeared.

Just for a split second.

Then it came back but with a shade more darkness in it, and a few pounds more dead weight.

“Change happens.
 
And it will happen here.”

Silence for a time.

“Like I say.
 
I’ll be happy to help in any way I can.”

“That is all I’m asking, Nina.
 
It really is.
 
Because after all––”

They were interrupted by the entrance of Margot, who, flushed and excited, seemed to have come from making a great discovery.

“Oh, it’s lovely out there!”

“Good walk?” asked Nina.

“Absolutely exhilarating. You should both go down to the beach now and walk toward Biloxi at least two miles! The breeze is fabulous and the air is crystal clear!”

Eve Ivory rose.

“It sounds enchanting,” she said, “but I’m afraid I have a meeting in several minutes.”

“Oh, what a pity!
 
A later time, perhaps?”

“Certainly. There will, I hope, be time for many more walks on the beach and such things.
 
Nina, thank you for your hospitality.
 
Margot, so glad to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise.
 
And I must tell you, for the last half hour I’ve been thinking about nothing other than what you’ve said.
 
I know it isn’t set in stone, but I’m going home right now and polish my typing skills!”

 
“Excellent!
 
Well, good bye ladies!”

“Goodbye!”

“Goodbye!”

The sound of steps on the staircase.

Nina looked at Margot.

“Where have you been?”

A shrug:

“Around.”

“You hate the beach.”

“Not always. Sometimes it’s useful. Actually, it’s the sea that’s so useful.”

“A secretary?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to be a secretary.”

“Really?”

“I suppose it’s because I never learned to type.”

“Margot––”

“OH FOR––!”

There was a piercing scream from beneath.

“ARE YOU––!”

The two women looked at each other.

“Is Penelope Royale around?” asked Nina, softly.

“No.
 
I think those words came from our friend, Ms. Ivory.”

“I’ve only heard those words—used in that particular syntax, I mean—from Penelope.”

“Ms. Ivory and Penelope may have more in common than first meets the eye.”

In two seconds, they were on the stair landing looking down at Eve Ivory, who was still kneeling beside her sports car.”

She rose, looked up, and, her voice quivering with rage, screamed:

“Some–– slashed my tires!”

There was, for several seconds, only the sounds of the gulls wheeling and screeching overhead.

Then Nina heard Margot whispering.

“Sonofagun.
 
What do you know about that?

More gulls.

More cursing from Eve Ivory, whose potentially violent side was beginning to manifest itself for the first time in Nina’s presence.

And the continuous soft strain from Margot, who was shaking her head, all the while muttering.

“What do you know about that?”

Things were quite busy around Nina’s beach shack for the next half hour. The police were called, of course.
 
It took no more than five minutes for the first squad car to arrive, another five for the second.

The third—with Moon Rivard driving it––was expected shortly thereafter.

Several of Nina’s neighbors walked up from their own beach houses, respecting almost exactly the same ring of distance they had established a few weeks earlier, when her own place had been vandalized.
 
These people were shocked that two crimes had been committed in Bay St. Lucy within a month, and they wondered whether the latest outrage might signal an invasion of
 
‘street gangs’—none of them being quite certain what a ‘street gang’ actually was—and the naturally ensuing onset of urban warfare.

Eve Ivory did nothing for a time except walk back and forth.

Very fast.
 

It was strange
, Nina thought,
how she seemed to have established her routine.

She would kneel beside one of the slashed tires, inspect it for no more than five seconds, then straighten up and walk straight toward the ocean.

She would only walk ten feet.

Then she would stop and, arms folded across her breasts, stare at the Simcon Oil Refinery rig, whose lights had been turned on, despite the strikingly clear weather prevalent on the coast at this time.