Game Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 3) Read Online Free PDF Page B

later—she had spent a number of days following Paul around and re-learning the ropes, and a certain amount of time had been needed for contract signing, re-licensure, etc.––she found herself sitting in her shack, preparing to eat dinner, savoring her last night as a civilian.
    It was a microwave dinner, but there was nothing wrong with that. There were going to be evenings spent in her office at school, and time for cooking would be less than before.
    She walked into her bedroom and opened the closet door.
    Three new suits; four pair of new shoes; a new purse.
    Had she chosen to open the vanity drawers, she would have found new underwear and new stockings.
    Christmas gifts to herself.
    No, she was ready to look like a principal again.
    So she took the lasagna out of the microwave, set its black plastic tray on the dining room table, stared at Furl, who was staring back at her, and said quietly:
    “All right cat. This is it. After this, life changes.”
    Then she poured herself a glass of milk—the old Nina would have had a glass of wine, but no more of that in the new life––and gave a toast to her reflection in the glass of the sliding deck door.
    “Here’s to tomorrow!”
    She had just sipped the first drops when she heard a knock at the front door.
    Strange.
    Sunday night.
    Funny time for visitors.
    She rose, apologized to Furl, who hated visitors on any night, and walked across the living room.
    She opened the door to reveal Jackson Bennett.
    “Nina. Sorry to bother you.”
    His huge frame darkened the doorway and blocked the quietly glowing blue porch light.
    He glowered down at her.
    Few people had the capability to glower.
    Nina certainly did not.
    She could squint but not glower, and she’d never been tall enough look down at anyone.
    “Jackson—come in.”
    “I can’t, Nina.”
    “Why? What’s up?”
    “Nina, I––”
    He seemed uncertain, which was strange for Jackson, who was always certain about everything.
    “What is it, Jackson?”
    “Well, there’s––”
    “Come on. Tell me.”
    “Something’s come up. Something pretty serious.”
    “Is anybody hurt? Has there been an accident?”
    “Oh, no. Nothing like that.”
    “Then what is it?”
    “I think you need to come with me.”
    “Come with you? Where, Jackson?”
    “Downtown. We need to go downtown.”
    “Well, all right. But what’s this about?”
    “Why don’t you get a jacket on. It’s chilly. I’ll tell you about it in the car.”
    And so she did.
    But he did not.

    Actually he was silent as a stone during the two mile ride into the center of Bay St. Lucy, nor did he speak while parking the big black limousine he now drove regularly.
    Lights in the town hall glowed.
    “Can’t you tell me what’s going on?”
    “In a minute, Nina.”
    “Is this city business?”
    “In a way.”
    “You know I’m not on the town council anymore.”
    “Yes. I know that.”
    “Surely I haven’t done anything wrong as a principal. I haven’t started yet.”
    “It’s not that.”
    “Is there some last minute objection about my taking the job? I thought we’d gone over all the paperwork, checked my certificate, gotten everything up to date, crossed all the ‘t’s, dotted the––”
    “Let’s just go inside.”
    He opened the door for her.
    The main chamber of the town hall glowed before her like a Christmas tree.
    There must have been fifty people inside, all smiling at her, most holding glasses of champagne in their hands, which were stretched upward toward the door.
    A huge banner, hanging from the chandeliers, read:
    WELCOME BACK, NINA!
    She was speechless.
    Alanna Delafosse stood beneath one of the great windows, a street light shining through the half-closed blinds and making her face a caramel glow; John Giusti stood beside her, his wife Helen, late of the Broadway stage, standing only a few feet away. Even Tom Broussard, was there, standing in a far corner. And there, bringing him a cup of something, ostensibly