Max Collins - Girl Most Likely

“I remember.”

“And I’m not sure that, even now, times have changed enough for a guy with my interests and skills to be openly gay and coach young men. To do that, I can envision riding out protests and having to go through lawsuits and... if I were younger, that might be an option. Mrs. Bragg is in the same boat where young girls are concerned.”

“You and Kelly met at GHS and discovered you shared a secret.”

Bragg nodded. “We did. And we hit it off. We became great friends. Still are. We travel together and, in some very real respects, we are husband and wife. I was very lucky finding her.”

“You live with Ed, and she lives with a woman from Dodgeville, I understand — in the summers.”

He nodded. “And there are weekend visits and school breaks and such.”

“Have you ever been involved with a student?”

The coach’s frown stopped just short of threatening. “Never. Do you consider yourself a professional, Keith?”

“I did. I’m retired now.”

“Funny kind of retirement. Tell me — did you ever compromise yourself with a woman in your custody? A runaway teen who was tricking perhaps? A woman of age who wanted a pass on some thing she did, shoplifting maybe?”

“Of course not.”

“That’s my answer to you. Of course I never compromised a teacher-student relationship for sexual gratification.” He shifted in the chair and his frown softened. “There is... I will mention something.”

“Do.”

“I briefly... briefly... had a moment with Chris Hope. A teacher not a student, of course. I was married to Kelly but had hit a rough patch with Ed. Chris and I were friendly and when it was about to get a little more than friendly, someone came in on us after school.”

“Who?”

Bragg sighed. “Astrid Lund.”

“Would you repeat that for the recording?”

“No. If it’s necessary to be more... forthcoming about all this, I will. But Astrid just smiled and laughed and ducked out. She never said a word about it. Not then. And not at the reunion.”

Krista and Kelly Bragg had been covering much the same ground.

“Call it living a lie, if you like,” the slender, attractive woman said, her chin up, “but Bill and I have had, and still do have, a lovely existence together. We are great friends and companions who enjoy each other’s company and interests.”

“I would never call it ‘living a lie,’” Krista said evenly. “I do wonder why you might not choose to go public at this stage? Things are very different now.”

She nodded. “Strides have been made, but hatred and prejudice die hard, if they ever die at all. But this is still a country where gay people wanting to order a wedding cake causes a court case. Do you really think a high school football coach coming out would be warmly received in this conservative town?”

“No,” Krista admitted.

“And Bill is one of the most admired and celebrated coaches of high school football in the state... in the nation! To risk his reputation?... No.”

Krista smiled. “You haven’t done so shabbily with the girls, either. Playing for GHS, with you as coach, is one of my fondest memories.”

Kelly swallowed. Her eyes were tearing up. “Thank you, Krista. Thank you very much for that.”

Krista leaned in. “But we do have to return to what we spoke about the other day... only in this new context.”

The gym teacher nodded. “Astrid and me in the shower.”

“Did you have a sexual relationship with her?”

The chin came up again. “Not with her or any of my girls. It was exactly as I told you. She’d had a terrible experience, something at least verging on date rape. She did not provide any details, not the boy’s name or... really anything more. But she needed comforting. Support. I see providing that as part of my role.”

“You have no idea who the boy was?”

She frowned in thought. “Well... she dated a lot of boys. Would go with them, steady, for a while, then move on. We were close. I was a mentor to her. So I remember who she was going with at the time.”

“Who would that be?”

“David Landry.”

“Thank you, Coach.”

The two women shook hands, and Krista got up and went over to her father, where Bill Bragg was getting up. She leaned in and whispered the new information.

The manager of Lake View Lodge sat across from Keith and offered up a businesslike smile. “I hope the way we’ve set everything up for you,” David Landry said, “is satisfactory.”

“We appreciate the cooperation,” Keith said, with his own businesslike smile. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about — something I witnessed the night of the reunion.”

“Please.”

“I saw you and Astrid Lund having words. Seemed fairly heated. Considering she was butchered a few hours later, that strikes me as pertinent. Well?”

The blood had left his face, his host persona evaporating. “Astrid was... she could be a little bitch. I’m sorry. I know it’s rude and you’re not supposed to say such things. But she could be. A real bitch.”

“Not to speak ill of the dead or anything.”

Landry leaned forward. “She was a bitch to me in high school. When we broke up. We left it in a bad place. I felt... well, I knew she’d made something of herself. I know that people change. Mature and become... different people.”

“But she hadn’t, is that it?”

He shook his head, still frustrated. “I approached her, tried to congratulate her, said how we’d been kids then and made some bad decisions...”

“What kind of bad decisions?”

Dawn Landry, lovely as ever, utterly composed, said, “My husband has a drinking problem. He’s had it a long time. And he keeps it under control. Right now he’s doing well.”

“Okay,” Krista said. “Why do you mention it?”

“His drinking problem started young. His parents kept a lot of liquor around the house, and did not keep track of it. David was helping himself as early as junior high.”

“Okay,” Krista said again.

“David has always handled it well, by which I mean... he’s not a nasty drunk. If anything, he’s a charming one. But with enough in him, he can be... uninhibited. When he knew this reunion was coming up, and that Astrid Lund would be coming, he... he told me something, so that I wouldn’t hear it from her, particularly in an ‘unfair manner,’ as he put it.”

“Go on.”

Dawn brushed some golden-brown hair away from her face. “When he was dating Astrid, they were alone at her house one night. And my guess is she was one of those girls who would let the boys do everything but... you know... everything but . The kids all said she put out, at least according to David... only she was a virgin. When David... had her.”

“He forced her.”

“That’s not how he puts it, but... I think so. He was definitely freaked out, because she was a virgin. There was blood. She got hysterical. He was worried she’d tell, but she never did. They never spoke of it.”

“The first time you talked to Astrid,” Keith said to Landry, “after that bad experience, was here? At the reunion?”

David nodded. “She was cold. Nasty. She said, ‘You think I’m a bitch? I’ll tell you what’s a bitch — karma’s a bitch.’”

“Where were you and David,” Krista asked, “the second week of August last year?”

“I was home,” Dawn said. “Saw my mother several times in Dubuque. Had lunch with friends. I was around. Easily proven. But David’s story about being busy here at the lodge? No. He was away for much of August. Drying out. He’s not had a drink since, to his credit. But this is a fairly regular routine with David.”