She patted my arm. “Chin up, kiddo,” she said. “We’ll figure this out.”
I held the door and then followed her inside. “Did you call Marie’s son?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Liz said. “He’s overnighting a box of papers and things from his mother’s desk that she’d had in storage.”
“Maybe we’ll find some answers somewhere in those papers,” I said.
“Channing says the key to figuring out who set up Rob Andrews is to figure out who benefitted.”
I opened my mouth but before I could say anything her index finger was in my face. “Think carefully before you speak,” Liz warned.
I gave her my best guileless look. “I was just going to say that I think Channing is right. He’s pretty savvy when it comes to financial issues.”
I unlocked my apartment door. “And hot babes!” I added. I wiggled my eyebrows at her then ducked inside.
“You better hide, missy,” Liz said from the other side.
I leaned against the door, laughing. I wasn’t going to stop teasing her about Channing Caulfield. It was way too much fun. On the other hand I did make sure my door was locked. Liz wasn’t above sneaking in while I slept and pouring a bucket of water over my head.
I kicked off my shoes and headed for the shower. Was Channing right? I wondered. If we could figure out who benefitted would we have the person who set up Michelle’s father?
As I ran the water in the shower it occurred to me that maybe the same reasoning could be applied to Gina Pearson’s death. The only problem was I couldn’t think of anyone who had benefitted from her death.
Chapter 18
Liz called me late Thursday morning. “Could you take an early lunch?” she asked. “FedEx just delivered the box of Marie’s things.”
I looked at my watch. “Give me about twenty minutes,” I said.
I headed downstairs. Rose was at the cash desk just ringing up a customer. I waited until she finished. The customer smiled as she passed me.
“Rose, what did that woman buy?” I asked. “She’s not carrying anything.”
Rose had a self-satisfied smile on her face. “The last bedroom set from Clayton McNamara’s house.”
“But we don’t even have it set up,” I said, looking around the room. The heavy, ornate black walnut bedroom set with a headboard and footboard, a chest of drawers and a mirrored dresser would have taken up a lot of space in the shop and I’d been debating how best to show it off.
“I took her out to the old garage so she could see the pieces. She’s coming back with a truck.”
I grinned at her. “Rose Jackson, is there anything you can’t sell?”
“Lima beans in a casserole,” she said. “And I can’t take credit for selling that bedroom set. The woman came in here looking specifically for something just like it.”
“Some days you eat the bear, some days the bear eats you,” I said.
“I wonder who came up with that saying,” she said, her expression thoughtful. “I can’t actually imagine ever eating a bear, can you?”
I loved the way Rose’s mind worked. “I’d rather eat the lima beans,” I said.
She nodded in agreement.
“I need to go out for a little while,” I said. “Can you handle everything?”
She smiled. “Of course I can, dear. Avery will be here soon and Charlotte is coming after lunch. And if it gets busy Alfred can help. Go.”
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Thank you,” I said.
The box was sitting on the coffee table in Liz’s living room. She hadn’t even peeled off the tape sealing the top.
“I swear if there are no answers in this box of papers I’m going to hire Alfred to go through every file the foundation has until he finds something,” Liz said.
“Not the worst idea you’ve ever had,” I said.
I picked up the scissors lying on the table next to the box and slit the packing tape. Inside we found a pile of file folders, each one held together with a couple of heavy binder clips. I took the top folder out and handed it to Liz. I took the next one, unfastening the clips.
We sat there in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the pages being turned. Finally I looked up at Liz. “Am I wrong or are these more minutes from those board meetings?”
“You’re not wrong,” she said. “Except I think what we have is the real minutes from those board meetings.” She turned the page she was holding around so I could see it. “Right there,” she said, pointing with one finger. “See that?”
I squinted at the paper and then looked at her. “I don’t see anything. None of those projects are listed.”
Liz nodded. “I know. That’s my point.”
She took the rest of the files out of the box. Something in the fourth one caught her attention. “Sarah, look at this,” she said.
It was a page of notes and numbers in neat, boxy handwriting. Marie Heard’s? I wondered.
“That’s an allocation of money for one of those projects.” I read a little further. “What does viability next to the amount mean?”
“It means the idea was one step before the development stage. In other words, was it a viable project?”
I found a similar reference to one of the other projects on a page of notes in the file I had.
“So Marie was stealing money and covering her tracks by making it look like authorized expenditures if anyone checked,” Liz said. Her eyes were sad but her voice was devoid of emotion.
“It looks that way,” I said.
“I can’t believe someone I knew so well was cheating the foundation and setting up Rob Andrews to take the fall,” she said. She gestured at the box. “What else is there besides the files?”
I looked inside. “I think it’s all personal items she had in her desk.” I handed Liz two photos.
“That’s Marie’s son,” she said of a framed photo of a young man grinning from ear to ear in his cap and gown.
The other photo was of Liz’s brother, Wilson, with a tiny dumpling of a woman.
“That’s Marie and Wilson when he was named Man of the Year by the Chamber of Commerce.” Liz studied the photo for a long moment and then set it on the coffee table next to the box.
The only items left were an amethyst bracelet and a navy silk tie.
The tie lay across her knees as she fingered the bracelet and then set it next to the photo. For a moment she didn’t speak. “Marie always had an extra clean tie in her desk in case Wilson needed it,” she finally said. “I, uh, never saw her wear this bracelet.”
I repeated what Jane said about Marie being wedded to her job.
“It’s true,” Liz said. “I don’t ever remember hearing that Marie was seeing anyone after her husband died.”
I could see how troubled she was. I put my arm around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry,” I said.
“So am I.”
“Why don’t you take a couple of days before we tell Michelle what we know?”
She almost smiled. “I think I’ll do that.”
We both got to our feet. “Do you want me to put everything away?” I asked.
Liz shook her head. “Leave it.” She walked me to the front door and wrapped her arms around me. “Love you, toots.”
“Love you, too,” I said.
I drove back to Second Chance feeling as though a large rock had settled in my stomach. Michelle was right. Her father had been innocent, but knowing that now really wasn’t going to fix anything. Her father was still dead. Marie was also dead so there was no chance for any real justice, and Liz had learned a painful truth about someone she’d trusted.
I pulled into the store parking lot and just sat there. My head hurt and so did my stomach. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to pretend I felt okay when I didn’t. I wanted Mac to be there. I wanted to hear one of his positive little speeches about how this would be all right. I wanted to hide in the old garage with my sander, working on the armoire for Gram and John while Mac ran interference. But Mac wasn’t here. I headed inside, pasting on a happy face I didn’t really feel.