The House of Seven Mabels (19 page)

"Now you know how to do that. Leave a bit of room."

Shelley returned to the subject she'd started first. "The assistant still had other suits to examine and we'll see what turns up. My own opinion, for what it's worth, is that Budley's probably competent but is so offensive and tactless that he annoys people into finding fault with his work."

"You'd feel that way, too. I've never seen you as mad as when he called us 'girls.' I was afraid you were having a stroke."

"No, I save strokes for dealing with the IRS," Shelley said with a laugh.

"Anything on Neville Burnside yet?"

"Do you have any more of those icky granola bars?"

"I bought two more boxes of them. Don't pretend you don't like them."

Shelley munched down two of them while Jane, who was sick of them, made two ham sandwiches.

Shelley looked at her watch. "It is way past time for lunch. Thanks. Anyway, the attorney's assistant hasn't even gotten to him yet," she said while slathering mustard on the sandwich. "She's still following up on Joe Budley."

"Is this costing Paul wads of money?"

Shelley laughed. "Considering the size of the annual retainer Paul pays this attorney and the fact that he admitted he didn't have anything for his legal assistant to do this week, he's glad to do it gratis. Or so he says. He told Paul all the material will go in a file and someday when someone else asks about Budley, he'll just dig out the file and impress the hell out of them with his quick work."

"Good thinking."

"Paul is often stunned by the speed of his research into property. Now we know how he does it. He keeps files on everybody he's ever checked out. Are you going to tell Mel we're doing this?"

"Hmm. I hadn't thought of that. I think it would be best if we waited until we have all the information."

"That's a good idea. Paul's attorney might already have a file on Neville Burnside and will knock our socks off again with his promptness."

"The one time we met him, I thought he was a very nasty man. Most of the people I know who

are divorced, no matter what kind of settlement is imposed on them, get over it and go on with their lives."

"Maybe it's too soon for him. I think he's so angry that he could have done all the vandalizing. But not in person. He'd be too obvious if anyone saw him lurking around. Maybe he hired one of Bitsy's discontented workers to do the sabotage."

"That's an interesting theory," Jane said. "But it would have cost him too much. I do think it's likely that others have inquired about him or brought suits against him. This attorney Paul uses sounds like more of a detective than a lawyer."

"That's why Paul pays the big bucks. The guy loves to get the dirt on people. I guess it's an instinct."

"One we also share," Jane said.

"Bite your tongue," Shelley said with a laugh. "Oh, I forgot to tell you something else. I finally met the plumber."

"I'd forgotten there has to be a plumber. Why haven't we come across him yet?"

"It's a she, Jane," Shelley said. "Introduced herself as Hank. I can't imagine what that's short for. For some reason she wasn't on the list of workers and phone numbers Bitsy gave me."

"She must have been one of the earliest to work once the walls were down in that section. Doesn't plumbing have to come first?"

"I have no idea. But if you think back, the first time we looked at the renovated part there were pipes stubbed out in the bathrooms and in the kitchen."

"Count on you to notice that. I didn't. So did you talk to Hank?"

"To my sorrow, I did. She said right out that Sandy Anderson was a cross between Eleanor Roosevelt and Mother Teresa."

"What an odd combination," Jane said. "I don't get the connection."

Shelley said, "I think I do. How much do you know about Eleanor Roosevelt?"

"Not as much as I'd like. Why?"

"Some recent scholars have suggested that after Eleanor found out about Lucy Mercer having an affair with Franklin, Eleanor and her longtime women friends became, let us say, much closer friends."

"You mean lesbians? Oh, now I get it.'7

"Hank went on haranguing about their feminist group and how it would never have gotten off the ground if it hadn't been for wonderful Sandy. She was both a hard and a tenderhearted person. Always so supportive of everyone in the group. She called Sandra a good example of 'tough love' and actually got a bit teary about her dying."

"No! I can't imagine that," Jane exclaimed.

"But she recovered quickly. She demanded that I go back to the Merchandise Mart and present my recommendations on the swirly hot tub thing

that they're putting in the master bath. Told me in no uncertain terms to be sure to consider only the ones that are left-handed."

"Left-handed? What does that mean?"

"I think it means they hook into the plumbing at the end she's stubbed out, instead of having to be installed with the back of it the wrong way around."

"What did you tell her?"

"That we weren't yet under contract and were still waiting for a better one. She went ballistic. How dare I argue about the contract? Sandra, or Sandy, as she insisted on calling her, could never be wrong about anything. She thought it was a wonderful contract."

"Did you tell her…?"

"You bet I did. I told her that everyone else on the job that I'd talked to had slashed through theirs and gotten it changed. That really knocked her for a loop. Later I saw her go out to her truck. When I was leaving, Hank was sitting there behind the steering wheel, flipping pages of what looked like her contract."

"If she's telling the truth, she's certainly not a suspect in Sandra's death."

"Jane, we don't really know if
anybody
has told us the truth."

"I guess that's true. But Henrietta and Jacqueline were quite frank with us. And so were Eva-line and Thomasina. Even Bitsy's inclined to spill her guts at every opportunity."

"I hate to admit this," Shelley said, "but I'm starting to feel sorry for Bitsy. I know Sandra was her own-free-will choice of contractor, but so many things have gone wrong on the project. Bitsy has to be thinking it's her fault."

Shelley opened the foil on a third granola bar.

"Maybe so." Jane said. "But she's still plowing along with it."

"If I were she, God forbid, I'd have taken my loss by now and turned it back over to the township to tear down."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that," Jane said.

"I know. You should just back out."

"I can't do that to you."

"Sure you can. You're so excited suddenly about your book. That's what you're meant to be putting your brains to work on. I can do the decorating myself. Or find someone else who has the skills and interest. But only if Bitsy antes up what I think is fair."

Jane knew Shelley wholeheartedly believed what she was saying. But the book had already taken her years and she would hate to disappoint her best friend.

Twenty-eight

Wednesday
morning jane got
a
call from Evaline. "Carl and I will be finishing up our work by noon, if not earlier. And I have some good news to tell you and Shelley. I'd like to celebrate. Could you two come to dinner at my apartment?"

"I'll have to check with Shelley. But it sounds like a good idea to me. Can you give me a hint about your good news?"

Evaline laughed. "No. I have to save it for tonight. Would seven be too late?"

"That's fine. I can feed my kids at six. I'll get back to you."

Jane caught Shelley just as she was leaving for another fight with the caterer.

"I'll either have it sorted out or will be interviewing someone else I've heard about long before then. I can make it. Did she tell you what the good news is?"

"She's saving it for dinner."

"I have got to run. I'll pick you up at quarter to seven."

Jane spent another day at the computer with Priscilla and wished she hadn't committed to the dinner. She'd rather have continued her work while she was on a roll. But she'd promised Eva-line they'd be there.

"How'd the meeting with the caterer go?" Jane asked as she got into Shelley's minivan.

"I won. I never really doubted that I would. Where are we going?"

Jane gave her Evaline's address, and they arrived just on time.

The apartment was on the first floor. Evaline greeted them at the door before they even knocked.
"I
saw you pull up. I'm running the tiniest bit late. I forgot to start the beans on time. Come in."

Her apartment was tiny but well-kept. It must have come already furnished, Jane guessed. The pictures on the walls of the living room seemed somewhat generic, not a reflection of what little they knew of Evaline. The furniture was cheap but clean and comfortable. Evaline, dressed in a short khaki skirt and a flowered shirt, asked them what they wanted to drink. "I have iced tea, sodas, or beer. And I even bought Shelley some bottled water and a six-pack of RC Cola for you, Jane."

She was back in a moment with their drinks. She sat down beside Shelley on the sofa. "I heard from the patent attorney yesterday. He has a guy in the patent office he's worked with for a long time," she

said. "He called him and asked if he could hurry it through and the guy said he would."

"That's wonderful/' Jane said. "I'm so glad for you."

"It gets even better," she said with a grin. "The patent attorney has talked to some joint-venture investors and they're considering funding me."

Jane was delighted and put down her drink to give Evaline a congratulatory handshake. But she spilled a bit of it on her hand. "Oops, I'll have to wash my hand first."

On entering the kitchen Jane noticed a pot on the stove that was almost bubbling over and turned the burner off. Then she washed her hands and looked around for a paper towel to dry them. Not seeing any, she opened a drawer to find a dishcloth. The first drawer was full of silverware. The next drawer down held the dishcloths.
As
she lifted one out, she saw something under it. A little brown leather notebook with a name stamped on it in gold. She picked it up with a fresh dishcloth.

In the living room, Shelley was asking Evaline when she thought she'd get the patent. Evaline started to reply, but sniffed and said, "Oh, dear. I think the gravy's burning. I forgot to turn off the stove." She hurried to the kitchen and came to a sudden stop when she saw Jane.

"What are you doing with that?"

"Oh, Evaline, I'm so sorry. I was just looking for something to dry my hands and found this."

"You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

"I have to," Jane said.

Evaline reached for the pot, where the gravy was still boiling-hot. "No, you won't," she said. She grabbed the handle of the pot and made a swinging motion with it, but it slipped out of her hand and hit the floor. Hot, thick brown gravy splashed back on her bare legs, and she screamed.

As Shelley ran into the room, Jane put down the little book and scrambled to the sink with a handful of more dishcloths to get them wet. "Call 911, Shelley. She's burned herself badly."

Shelley already had her cell phone in her hand, and while she waited for an answer said, "Jane, dab. Don't wipe."

Evaline had collapsed on the floor, still screaming-After the emergency medical technicians had taken Evaline away, Shelley asked, "What happened?"

"She was trying to throw the boiling-hot gravy at me, and it came back on her. I'll explain in a minute, but first call Mel and tell him to call the nearest hospital and order them not to release her. She killed Sandra. The evidence is on the kitchen counter."

Shelley dialed the police station as Jane started cleaning up the gravy from the floor.

"I need to talk to Mel VanDyne immediately," Shelley was saying. "You can't contact him?

Why? Never mind. Call the hospitals and find out which one the emergency people took Evaline Herman to from this address," she said, reeling off the street address and apartment number. "She's the one who murdered the woman on the case Detective VanDyne is on. Tell them not to release her."

She hung up and said, "Jane, stop cleaning. Let's get out of here."

They were both so shaken that they just sat in Shelley's minivan for a few minutes, trying to calm down enough for Shelley to drive. In a shaking voice, Jane explained about looking for a dishcloth and finding Sandra's little brown notebook in the drawer.

"How did you know it was hers?"

"It had her name stamped on the front. Did you leave the door to the apartment unlocked?"

"Yes," Shelley said as she fumbled to get the ignition key in and start the car.

For once in her life, she drove slowly and carefully.

Jane had gravy all over her knees from kneeling and trying to get the gravy off Evaline, and went straight to the basement to take her slacks off. Shelley followed her. "There should be clean jeans in the dryer. Keep very quiet. I don't want Kate and Todd to know about this."

"You're still shaking, and you're as white as a ghost. Do you want to come to my house?"

"You're as pale as I am. Let's go sit out on the patio. I'll take the portable phone with me, so if Mel calls back, I can grab the call before one of the kids picks it up."

They sat outside for quite a long time, speaking in low tones. "At least I had the common sense not to get my own fingerprints on the notebook."

"Good for you. Katie's not on the phone line, is she?" Shelley said.

"No. A little red light would come on the portable if she were."

It was dark, and the evening was turning chilly. Jane went inside and peeked in each child's room. Katie was listening to loud music while supposedly doing her homework. Jane pulled herself together well enough to say, "Katie, don't use the phone for a while. I'm expecting a call." Katie nodded.