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The Grim Reader

Page 12

by Kate Carlisle


  “I guess that would be me,” Winston said. “He kept everything locked up in the wall safe in the office.”

  “Everything’s in there?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah. Spreadsheets and financial information, the festival checkbook, and some petty cash. Lawson usually carried some petty cash with him when he knew he would have to pay some vendor, you know?”

  “You’re very knowledgeable about the finances,” Mom said. “I didn’t realize you worked so closely with Lawson.”

  Winston shrugged. “I guess you could say I was his second-in-command.”

  “Lucky for us,” Jan said.

  “That’s for sure,” Mom agreed. She checked her agenda list and glanced back at Winston. “After the meeting, we should take everything out of the wall safe to make sure we know exactly what we have to work with. And we’ll have to check our bank balance, too. The vendors will be showing up with their equipment and I want to make sure the account is fully funded.”

  Saffron snorted. “Are we supposed to trust you with the money?”

  Mom blinked, then bristled. “Yes, you are. You all elected me to this position precisely because I can be trusted.”

  “What’s wrong with you, Saffron?” Winston asked. “It’s like you’ve gone insane.”

  “Yeah,” Jan muttered. “Get over yourself.”

  “I just don’t like her authoritarian attitude,” Saffron said, sniffing.

  “Don’t be an idiot,” Clyde muttered.

  “Yeah,” Jan said. “It’s not authoritarian to simply want to take care of business.”

  Marybeth jumped in. “If you don’t like it, you can always quit.”

  Derek leaned in to me and whispered, “Saffron, it seems, is standing alone on this issue. She’s not the type of person to take that well.”

  I nodded. I was glad for Mom that many of the committee members were on her side, but this wasn’t going to make Saffron easier to deal with.

  As if she’d heard me thinking, Saffron stood and glared at my mother. “I’m as important to this committee as you are.”

  Jan snorted. “Really?”

  Saffron raised her fists in Jan’s direction. “Why don’t you shove it up—”

  “That’s enough,” Mom insisted, and slammed her gavel down hard on the table. “I’m not going to allow one person to ruin the work we’re all trying to do. We have enough problems without fighting among ourselves.” She thought for a moment. “Instead of waiting, we’ll take care of this right now. Winston, you and I will go to the office and get the cash box and anything else that’s in the safe. If anyone wants to accompany us and witness us opening the safe, please feel free to come along.”

  Saffron stood and grabbed her purse. “You can bet I’m going along. That’s for sure.”

  “Fine,” Mom muttered. “Anyone else?”

  “I trust you, Becky,” Ryan said, straightening a row of pens he’d laid out in front of him. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  Jan said, “You guys go ahead. I’ve got to make a phone call anyway.”

  The others in the group voiced their agreement with Ryan.

  Mom glanced over at Derek and Meg and me, and gave a little jerk of her chin. “You’re coming with us.”

  “Why do they get to come?” Saffron asked.

  “Independent observers.”

  “They’re hardly independent,” she muttered, but let it go, clearly recognizing a losing battle when she saw one.

  Meg tugged Derek’s sleeve. “I’ll wait here.”

  Derek looked from me to his mom. “That’s a good idea. Watch these people, will you, Mother?”

  She smiled up at him. “That was my intention, dear.”

  So Mom, Winston, Saffron, Derek, and I traipsed down the hall and turned left toward the Dharma town-council offices that were connected to the town hall.

  We looked like a small, not-so-festive parade as we made our way over to the secretarial-services office.

  “Hi, Melissa,” Mom said when we entered the spacious office.

  “Hey, Becky. What’s going on?” Melissa Grant was executive secretary to the town council and basically ran things when the council wasn’t in session. She had three assistants working for her, along with Hal, the IT guy and overall computer whiz. If Hal couldn’t fix it, nobody could.

  Both Melissa and Hal had gone to school with me and my siblings, and we’d known them forever. And since my father was on the town council, we also saw them at picnics and other events throughout the year.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about Lawson,” Melissa said.

  “It’s very sad,” Mom said. “I expect that we’ll have a memorial service in the near future.”

  “I’ve already discussed it with Robson and we’ve set up a teleconference with all of the council members this evening. Once the festival’s over, I’ll send out a community email with all the information.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Mom beamed at her. “Thanks, Melissa.”

  “Now,” she said. “What can I do for you?”

  “We need access to the festival checkbook, the financial spreadsheet, and the petty cash box. Lawson kept everything in the safe, and Winston knows the combination. We just need to get into the room.”

  “I can help you,” Melissa said jovially. Pulling a ring of keys from her desk drawer, she stood and walked across the room to another door. After unlocking that door, she turned. “There you go.”

  “Thank you, sweetie.”

  “I’ll stay here in the office until you’re finished and lock everything up.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  The five of us crowded into the small room and Derek closed the door. The room was sparsely furnished with a credenza, several folding chairs, and some very generic artwork.

  Winston approached a large framed painting of a pastoral scene and pulled it away from the wall. That was when I noticed the painting was on hinges. Fascinating.

  “Not that I’m paranoid,” Winston explained, “but Lawson entrusted me with the combination to the safe and I intend to keep it a secret. So don’t be insulted when I shield it from you all.”

  “Perfectly understandable, Winston,” Mom said.

  “Sounds like paranoia to me,” Saffron muttered.

  Winston bared his teeth at Saffron and said, “Just shut up.”

  I snorted a laugh and got a dirty look from Saffron.

  Winston put one hand over the other to block our view of the combination as he spun the dial back and forth, changing directions as each number clicked into place.

  When the last number clicked, he blew out a relieved breath, pulled the handle down, and opened the safe.

  “Good job,” Mom said.

  “Looks like everything is in here,” he said, reaching inside and pulling out a small steel box that looked like it might hold fishing tackle. He handed it to my mother, then pulled out a manila envelope, the kind secured with a brass clasp. “This has the financial info and checkbook inside. It’s all backed up on my computer, by the way.”

  “Thank goodness.” Mom put the cash box on the credenza and gazed at the rest of us. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  As she fiddled with the latch, I watched Saffron stretch her neck and lean to the left to catch a glimpse of what was inside. I had a sudden image of her snatching the money out of Mom’s hands and I poised myself to catch her if she tried to run.

  Mom raised the lid just enough to peek inside. She stared at the contents for what seemed like forever. Then she lifted her head, held up the open cash box, and stared directly at me and Derek. “It’s empty.”

  * * *

  • • •

  There was a long moment of stunned silence.

  “Is this some kind of a joke?” Saffron demanded of no on
e in particular.

  Mom ignored the woman and instead turned directly to Winston. As shocked as everyone else, Mom’s questions came tumbling out one after the other. “Is it possible that Lawson took all the cash out to purchase something or pay one of the vendors? Did he often deplete the petty cash fund? Do you know how he handled the finances?”

  “I didn’t know his day-to-day routine,” Winston said, shaking his head, “but my understanding was that there was always some cash on hand, just in case someone had to be paid. Maybe a hundred and fifty to two hundred dollars at any one time.”

  I quietly moved around to get Mom’s attention. I was getting a really bad feeling about this. “Mom, what’s the balance in the checkbook?”

  “We’d better have a look at it,” she said with a nervous shake of her head. “I’m sorry, Winston and Saffron. This is quite upsetting for me.”

  Winston looked bleak as he nodded. “For me, too.”

  “There’s got to be a simple explanation,” Mom said. “We just have to figure out what it is.” She unhooked the clasp and turned the manila envelope upside down. The checkbook and a thin stack of documents slid out onto the credenza.

  “Okay, here’s the checkbook.” Mom flipped it open to find the latest deposit. “According to the check register, we should have seventy thousand dollars in the bank. The last deposit was made a week ago.”

  “Well, that’s a relief,” Saffron said.

  “Yes,” Mom agreed with a heartfelt sigh.

  “So Lawson probably spent what petty cash he had on hand,” Winston said, shrugging. He picked up another small notebook and thumbed through it. “This is where he noted the petty cash expenditures, but it shows that there should be a hundred and seventy dollars in there.” He glanced around. “He probably planned to write down what he’d spent, but I guess he never got around to it.”

  Mom frowned. “I suppose that seems reasonable.”

  Even Saffron couldn’t argue, although she grimaced intensely. “I guess so.”

  It did seem reasonable. Still, just because there was a huge balance in the checkbook, that didn’t mean that the money was actually in the bank. I was jumping to the worst possible conclusion, but hey, the guy had been murdered. Why wouldn’t I suspect foul play? I shot a look at Derek and could tell he was thinking the same thing I was. Great minds, I thought. We were both equally suspicious of the situation. Was it any wonder I was crazy about my husband?

  “We really should have this discussion with the entire committee,” Mom said. “And we need to verify that seventy thousand dollars is still in the bank.”

  “Yeah,” Winston said. “I can do that.”

  “Then let’s go back to the meeting room.”

  We all waited while Winston closed up the safe and swung the painting and its frame back into place.

  Clutching the manila envelope and cash box to her chest, Mom led the way out of the little room. “Thank you, Melissa.”

  “You bet.” She barely looked up from her computer. “See you guys later.”

  As I passed her desk, she looked up and smiled. “Brooklyn, how are you?”

  “Just great.”

  “My little girl is really excited about making her own book with you.”

  “Wonderful. We’ll have fun.” I moved on quickly, unwilling to show how distressed I was. I had hated seeing that look on Mom’s face when she realized there was no cash. I wondered if she had considered yet what Derek and I had—that the bank account could’ve been emptied as well.

  Maybe we were just asking for trouble. The money could be safe and sound in the bank. But I saw that image of Lawson bleeding out on the conference room floor and I just couldn’t paint a positive picture.

  I took Derek’s arm and we slowed down, leaving plenty of space between ourselves and the committee members. “What do you think?”

  He leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I’m not hopeful, frankly.”

  “Neither am I. Am I becoming too cynical? Why am I thinking that the actual bank account may not match what was in the checkbook?”

  “Because you’re a brilliant woman,” he assured me, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on my forehead. “And by the way, you’re not cynical; you’re simply astute.”

  Astute. I could live with that.

  We were careful to keep our distance from the rest of the group as Derek continued whispering. “We’re both thinking the same thing, darling. Lawson, the person in charge of the festival funds, was just murdered. There was no money in his pockets and his wallet was missing.”

  “How do you know that?”

  He gazed at me. “I checked.”

  “Of course you did,” I said, rolling my eyes. “And I was too freaked out over Lawson’s dead body to notice.”

  He wrapped his arm around me in sympathy and I leaned against him.

  “So, empty pockets,” I said.

  “And an empty cash box,” he said. “Coincidence?”

  But I knew very well that Derek didn’t believe in coincidences. “So you think Lawson was robbed before he was killed.”

  “There’s a very good chance.”

  I sighed. “Could he have been dumb enough to carry seventy thousand dollars around in his pocket?”

  Derek shrugged. “It’s quite possible.”

  “So clearly robbery was the motive for killing him.”

  “Possibly.”

  He was being cryptic so I had to ask. “Why else was he killed, if not for the money?”

  “Why indeed.”

  I almost laughed at his enigmatic responses. “It’s possible that he might’ve been planning to meet with the vendors and pay them for their services.”

  He smiled down at me. “There you go. Not cynical at all.”

  “Oh, sure.” So why was my stomach a churning pot? “I’m going back to the committee room, sitting on the sidelines, and thinking only good thoughts.”

  He gave my shoulders a light squeeze. “Your mother will appreciate it.”

  “I hope so.” I had to think positively, or my mother would pick up on my worry vibes and suggest that she sign me up for an espresso enema or something.

  We crossed into the town hall portion of the building and turned down the hallway. By the time we reached the new committee room, Mom, Winston, and Saffron were already seated in their chairs around the conference table. Derek and I slipped over to the side and sat down with Meg.

  Meg slipped her arm through Derek’s. “Everyone behaved while you were gone.”

  “Good,” he whispered.

  “Is everybody here?” Mom asked, gazing around the long table.

  “We’re all here, Becky,” Sue said. Her granny glasses were tinted pink today and she wore her long gray hair braided down her back.

  Mom tried to smile. “Thanks, Sue.”

  “So what happened?” Jan asked.

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “You guys were gone a long time.”

  Mom checked her wristwatch. “It was only about twenty minutes, but I agree it felt like an hour. I’m sorry we kept you all waiting. I know you’re anxious to hear what we found.”

  “Nothing,” Saffron grumbled loudly. She had her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “We found nothing. The money’s gone.”

  “Please stop talking!” Winston shouted, clearly Saffron was on his last nerve. I couldn’t blame him. I could tell he was feeling the weight of responsibility that there was no money in the cash box.

  “You don’t have to yell,” Saffron said, affronted. “That was rude.”

  “I said please,” Winston muttered, then schooled his expression and spoke with infinite patience. “You all need to wait until we have some facts before jumping to conclusions.”

  “An excellent idea,” Mom declared. “Lawson was a very good businessman, so I’m sure the mo
ney will be in the bank.”

  “You don’t know that,” Saffron said, clearly taunting her.

  Despite having the exact same thoughts a few minutes ago, I wanted to beat her with a stick. I hated her for giving my mother grief. She was a whiny, griping jerk.

  Nope. I didn’t like her. And I obviously wasn’t the only one in the room who felt that way.

  I watched her for a full minute. She was so aggravating. I didn’t know how she had lasted this long on the committee.

  Maybe it was just me, but if I were a part of this group and had to deal with her, it would take every last bit of patience and energy I could summon to keep from transmuting into a hideous snarling werewolf and biting Saffron’s head off.

  But again, that was just me.

  Undoubtedly there had to be a few members who secretly sided with Saffron. But except for the vote they’d taken on Banyan, it was hard to tell who Saffron’s comrades were. They hadn’t revealed themselves yet, at least not since I’d been there. And that was smart of them, because I was ready to lash out at any moment and I would just as soon kick their butts along with Saffron’s.

  Mom began to speak. “As Saffron said, the cash box was empty. But Winston thinks that Lawson may have had a habit of letting the funds dwindle and then going to the bank to replenish them.”

  “So somebody needs to go to the bank,” Marybeth said.

  “We could do that,” Mom said. “But it would probably be easier, if it’s agreeable to the group, to have Winston check our balance online.”

  Sue nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  “Yes, let’s.” Mom nodded to Winston. “I assume you can access the account online?”

  “Sure.”

  “Great. Can you do it right here and now?”

  “Yeah, no problem.” He pointed to the manila folder on the table in front of my mother. “Can you hand me the folder? It’s got all the account info inside.”

  “Of course.” She slid it across to him.

  “Thanks.” He stared at his computer screen and punched a bunch of keys, then sort of zoned out for a few minutes while the computer warmed up and he accessed the bank website. He continued typing and I assumed he was plugging in the user name and password.

 

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