Frame Change: A Nina Bannister Mystery (The Nina Bannister Mysteries Book 5) by Joe Reese, T Gracie Reese Page B

you’ve driven down from?”
    “Chicago.”
    “Aha. Here. Please. Sit down, and have a cup of coffee!”
    “You’re very gracious.”
    “No, it’s no bother. We’re nothing here if not homey.”
    He sat. She poured.
    They smiled at each other across the small glass table.
    “You’re a long way from Chicago. What do you do there?”
    “Investment banking.”
    “I see. Or rather I don’t. I’m an ex-school teacher myself. ‘Investment banking’—that’s an alien world to me. I’m not even sure what investment bankers do.”
    “Neither are we!”
    Obligatory mutual laughter.
    “So you’re making a driving vacation along the gulf coast?”
    He sipped the coffee and shook his head:
    “No. No, actually, I’ve come to Bay St. Lucy for a very specific reason, and I’m hoping—actually I was told elsewhere in town—that you might be able to help me.”
    “Me?”
    “Yes. Are you Ms. Bannister? Ms. Nina Bannister?”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Do you know, then, Carol Walker?”
    Nina was surprised and showed it.
    “Yes! Yes, of course I do!”
    The man across the table from her smiled:
    “It is she that I’ve come to see.”
    “You are…”
    “A very old friend. Well. Perhaps not so very old as all that. But a friend of some years’ standing. Let me explain: Carol was teaching at a community college south of Chicago. College of DuPage. As it happened, we were both living in a small town near the campus. I was commuting each day into the city. And so, somehow, we found ourselves at a coffee shop one day—Starbucks, I guess—and started chatting. One thing led to another and we became—well, quite close. We remained that way up until last year when she began her duties as docent at the museum. We had talked about marriage, but…well, you know, those things don’t always work out.”
    “Of course.”
    “I think Carol will always be a farm girl.”
    “From Georgia.”
    He smiled and nodded:
    ‘Ah, yes, you have come to know her well, I see. At any rate, I think her ultimate plans require her to return home and be with what is left of her family, live on the land.”
    “Those were not your plans, Mr…”
    “Oh, I’m sorry. Michael. You may simply call me Michael. The last name is—well, it’s complicated.”
    “Very well, Michael.”
    “At any rate, our engagement broke off.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    “As I say, such things happen. The main point is that Carol has many friends in Chicago.”
    “I’m sure she does.”
    “We were all shocked to learn of her dismissal.”
    “She was, too.”
    “Of course, she was. She must have been. And the woman who fired her is such a––well, I can’t say what she is. I must ask, though:   how is Carol doing?”
    “Very well. You probably heard in town, that she’s staying with me.”
    “I did.”  
    He finished his coffee and asked:
    “May I?”
    “By all means,” said Nina, pouring another cup.
    “This is excellent.”
    “We southerners enjoy our coffee.”
    “I can see.”
    “So, Carol’s not expecting you?”
    He shook his head:
    “I must admit, no. And it’s shameful of me not to have called her. But––I have gifts in the car from several of her friends, all of whom miss her, and miss her very much. We all feel that we were perhaps not ‘there’ for her when she needed us. She’s a very quiet girl, as I’m sure you know.”
    “She can be, yes.”
    “And I think—we all think—that she may have felt more alone than she really was. So, a phone call…”
    “Just wouldn’t have been enough?”
    “Exactly.”
    “And your mission is…”
    “As you may have guessed. I’m here on behalf of the ‘friends of Carol,’ all of whom wish to talk her into returning to Chicago.”
    It was Nina’s turn to shake her head:
    “Well, I wish you luck. We’ve all come to be very close to Carol. Nobody in town wants to see her leave.”
    “I can understand that. But a small town such as this…”
    “Sure. Ultimately,