A Denial of Death (22 page)

"The summer library program doesn't have any money of its own."

"No, I mean a company with those initials, SLP."

Terri shook her head. "Never heard of it. Should I have?"

"Probably not," Helen said.

"So let's figure out a job for you." Terri forced an encouraging smile. "If we can make room for Angie, we can make room for anyone."

"If Angie's that much trouble, why do you keep her on?"

"Angie has
some
redeeming qualities." Terri said. "She does a great job with our financial records. The CPA who handles our tax filings is always amazed at how organized the records are."

"From what I've heard, it's just when Angie has to deal with people that she's a problem."

"Exactly," Terri said. "The last book sale, she kept insisting we had to record all the data on each donated book, as if they were library acquisitions, even if we were only selling them for a quarter. I don't know if you're familiar with library acquisitions, but it's a time-consuming process. I had to intervene before we lost another volunteer."

"So Angie has scared off other volunteers?"

"At least three that I know of, for sure." Terri said. "It's been getting worse too. Lately, she's been insisting she's some sort of publishing expert, knows all about marketing books and what readers want, and we're doing everything wrong. She's been spearheading an effort to expand our digital offerings, which we'd all like to do, but it's a bit of a morass right now, with publishers and distributers squabbling over purchase prices for libraries and the limits on how often an ebook can be borrowed for the initial fee."

"Why was Angie so interested in ebooks?"

"I have no idea," Terri said. "It would be a lot easier to manage her if I knew why she does any of the things she does. Until recently she hadn't seemed personally interested in any of our books, regardless of the format."

"When did she change?"

"It was about a year ago," Terri said. "I thought she was just puffing herself up so people would listen to her. There are a couple fairly successful authors who live in town, and they sometimes come in for a talk or to help us at the book sales. They're the experts we rely on for inside information about the publishing industry. Angie couldn't possibly know a fraction of what they do. As far as I can tell, she doesn't even read much. I've never seen her with a book or an e-reader. She doesn't even have a library card. The only 'books' she's ever really cared about were our financial ledgers. I don't understand why she volunteers here, but I'm not going to turn away someone with her bookkeeping skills."

"Even if she scares away all the other volunteers?"

Terri shrugged. "I've dealt with worse. As long as she takes care of the money properly, I need her on the board. Math isn't my strong suit."

"So you don't double-check her work?"

Terri shook her head. "I wouldn't notice if there was something wrong. Besides, she'd have to be insane to try to cheat the library. She knows what I'd do to anyone who harmed the library."

"What would you do?" Helen forced herself not to stare at Terri's huge hands.

"You sound like you think I'm some sort of crime boss." She deepened her voice to continue in a good impression of a mafia don. "Anyone betrays me, and she'll sleep with the fishes." Terri's voice returned to normal. "I just meant that anyone who stole from the library deserved to go to jail for a good, long time, and I'd campaign to make that happen. I'm a high school teacher and coach, so I've worked with most of the local politicians' kids at some point or another. Knocked some sense into a few of them who were on the verge of getting into trouble too. If someone stole library funds, I've got at least enough influence to make sure the district attorney didn't plead it down to some light community-service sentence. I'd make sure the person did time for it, and everyone knows that."

"A lawyer friend tells me that most criminals aren't all that good at predicting the bad consequences of their actions."

"Angie has many annoying traits, but she's not impulsive. She's self-involved, and she likes attention, but she's not stupid about it. She has to know what would happen to her husband's reputation if she went to jail for embezzlement. It would destroy his insurance agency." Terri tossed her now-empty box aside. "But you didn't come here to talk about another volunteer. You're looking for a project of your own. Why don't you come to our next meeting, and I'll introduce you to everyone so you can see what we do and where we need help?"

Helen accepted the change of subject and promised to come to the meeting in two weeks. She had to hope Angie's disappearance would be solved by then and also that Terri hadn't been responsible for it. Terri really was an unlikely suspect despite her physical strength. She seemed to have complete trust in the legal system, so she wouldn't feel the need for any vigilante action.

Of course, that might change if Terri thought someone like Tate would get the thief off on a technicality. The image of Terri's hands tearing into the heavy cardboard flashed through Helen's mind, superimposed over Angie's neck.

No, Helen couldn't completely disregard Terri's potential involvement in Angie's disappearance, even if it was unlikely. Unfortunately, that meant every other president of every other volunteer group in town should be considered suspects too. On the plus side if she had to interview someone at every single one of Angie's volunteer activities, it would certainly fill up Helen's retirement days, and she wouldn't have time to make any more misshapen chemo caps.

Lily's car was parked in front of the cottage's garage. Too anxious to wait for Jack to open the beige car's recalcitrant passenger-side door, Helen slid across the center console to get out of the driver's side.

 Lily herself wasn't in sight, but Tate's car was parked in its usual spot, and the garage door was open. Lily was probably in there. Tate never seemed to mind when she interrupted, at least not to the same extent he grumbled about Helen's visits.

Helen told Jack she was done with her investigation for the day and he could return the car to his cousin.

"What do you want me to tell him about trying out another car?" Jack said.

"I don't want to cause any problems between you and your cousin, but we're not getting anywhere with him," Helen said. "Maybe we should take a trip into Boston, to a place that doesn't know me." The sales representatives would likely still ignore her in favor of dealing with Jack, but she could be rude with them in ways she couldn't be with someone she and Jack would likely be working with again in the future.

"You can't go to another dealer," Jack said. "It would break Ed's heart. He's determined to find just the right car for you."

"I appreciate that, but he doesn't understand who I am, so he's recommending entirely wrong vehicles." She pointed her cane at the beige car. "He'd never accept that this isn't actually a bad choice if it weren't for the sabotage."

"Seriously? This car?" Jack stared at it for a moment, clearly unable to comprehend how it could possibly be a reasonable choice for anyone. "I'd feel better if you chose something with better handling on snow and ice. I'm a good driver, but to really keep you safe, I need a car designed for winter weather."

"I appreciate your advice, and I won't make you drive a car you hate. I also don't want to hurt Ed's feelings, but his suggestions have been completely wrong for me." She didn't know enough about cars to supply any specs, so she needed to get Ed to see who she really was in order to get a good recommendation.

What if she approached the problem from the opposite direction? If she could identify someone with the personality traits she wanted Ed to base his recommendations on, she could ask to test whatever vehicle that person drove.

Tate's car certainly matched his personality: quiet, not particularly flashy, but at the top of its class for reliable performance. He needed a bit of luxury to impress clients, but she didn't need to impress anyone. Her nieces' cars weren't right, either: Lily's was too young and sporty, and Laura's was a soccer-mom-style mini-van, in anticipation of the big family she wanted.

Who did Helen know here in town who was sensible and reliable? And not overly impressed with brand names like Charlene with her VW Beetle and its custom paint job to match her glass collection. Terri Greene seemed sensible, but given her height she probably drove something like the super-sized SUV Helen had already tried and rejected.

What about the nursing home's assistant administrator? She was taller than Helen but not in the same league as the president of the Friends of the Library. Martha Waddell was smart and she knew how to stick to a budget.

"Ask Ed what kind of car Martha Waddell drives," Helen said finally. "I want to try one like that."

"Martha's car?" Jack said with obvious surprise. Before he could be questioned he quickly added, "Whatever you want, Ms. Binney," and climbed back into the beige car.

While Jack took off Helen went over to the garage to confront her niece about not returning calls. Inside she found not just Lily but also Laura. Someone had found a relatively clean sheet to throw over one of the directors' chairs. Laura was seated in it, with Lily standing behind her protectively, hands on the back of the chair.

Tate was sprawled in the other ratty old chair, facing the girls. She ought to thwap him with her cane for not letting her know immediately that her nieces were safe. Instead she focused her relieved irritation on Lily. "You haven't been returning my calls."

"Worried about us, Aunt Helen?"

"Of course not," she lied. "I was celebrating that you'd finally decided to let me live my own life without constant interference. And now here you are, back to hovering."

"We have something to tell you," Laura said, starting to stand up. "Perhaps you should sit down first."

Lily pushed Laura back into her seat. "It's good news. People don't have to sit down for good news."

"It's
my
news," Laura said mildly. "I get to decide how people hear it."

"All right, all right," Helen said, climbing into the seat Tate vacated for her. "Just tell me."

"It finally happened," Laura said with a huge smile. "Howie and I are pregnant."

"Congratulations," Helen said, sliding down from the chair. "Why don't we go into the house so we can discuss all the details and leave Tate to his work?"

"I don't mind if you stay here," Tate said. "I was just putting my tools away for the day. Picturing Helen being run ragged by Laura's kids is the most entertainment I've had in months."

Helen sat again. "Laura knows better than to expect me to babysit. I'm no good with children. And I'm far too busy these days."

Tate shook his head disbelievingly and picked up a sharp-looking tool and a cleaning rag.

"I thought you wanted a peaceful retirement," Lily said. "What's keeping you so busy?"

"Investigating murders."

"Murders, plural?" Lily said. "There's been another one? Who pissed you off this time?"

"You have to be more careful," Laura said earnestly. "It's too dangerous for you to chase after killers. I want my children to have as much of an extended family as possible."

"Don't worry," Helen said. "I won't get myself killed just to avoid babysitting. There may not even have been another murder. It's just a missing persons case right now. Probably nothing worse than some sort of miscommunication."

"Is that why you wanted to know about SLP?" Lily said. "I meant to get back to you about it, but when you cancelled lunch on Saturday, I had to let Laura drag me to at least a thousand baby stores before she got over having to wait to tell you her news. I couldn't do the research until this morning."

"Well?" Helen said. "What did you find out about SLP?"

"It's a digital publisher," Lily said. "If you look at the 1099 closely, you'll see that the money was for royalties, not self-employment. Angie must have been writing books for them."

"Angie?" Helen said. "An author? That doesn't make any sense. She barely even liked to read."

Lily pulled out her trendy smartphone. "What's the missing woman's name?"

Helen told her, and Lily keyed the name into a search engine. "No books by an author of that name. She was probably using a pen name, especially since SLP publishes erotic romance novels. The initials stand for Scarlet Lipstick Press."

"Angie wrote stories about sex?"

"Looks like it." Lily tucked her phone away.

Helen looked at Tate. "What do you think? Is writing erotica potentially more embarrassing than a gambling addiction?"

He shrugged. "Depends on the person."

Helen remembered the woman she'd met at the casino who went there to work free of interruptions. "Actually, she might not have intended to give anyone the impression she was a gaming addict. She could have gone to the casino resort simply to do her writing. She's disappeared before, so maybe she was multi-tasking: punishing Ralph for some marital slight while also using the uninterrupted time to write a book she thought was too scandalous for Wharton residents to know about."

"It's possible," Tate said. "You're still just speculating, though."

"There’s more to it that you haven’t heard yet,” Helen said. “Charlene must have known about Angie's secret writing career. She definitely knew about the secret bank account. I
knew
she was lying when she said she didn't recognize SLP. It all makes sense now. Charlene was just reluctant to tell me her sister wrote erotica."

"She shouldn't have been," Lily said. "Lots of people like to read about sex, and it's not easy to write about. Anyone who can do it well can make good money, even working part-time."

"I suppose you're right," Helen said. "But why keep it from her husband?"

"Are you sure she did?" Tate said. "If Angie was the one who wanted it kept secret, Ralph might simply have been honoring her wishes."

"If Ralph knew about her writing, he would have known where the money came from. He'd have had no reason to mention SLP to me."