“Not at all.” He slowly smiled. “It’s lovely. And by the way, it’s not up to me. You have plenty of your own funds at your disposal.”
I squeezed his hand. “I know. But we’re a team.”
He grinned and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed my cheek and said, “Yes we are. And I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
“Okay, when there’s a break in the conversation, I’ll bring it up.”
“Bring it up now,” he suggested. “Your mother can use an infusion of good news.”
I grinned at him, then stood. “Excuse me, I’d like to speak to the committee.”
Mom turned and stared, looking almost as shocked as Derek had been a minute ago. “What is it, sweetie?”
“I wish to submit an idea or a proposal or whatever you want to call it.”
“Don’t call it anything, just say it,” Clyde said.
I laughed self-consciously. “I’m new at this. So okay, here’s the deal. Derek and I want to contribute seventy thousand dollars to the festival fund.”
There was complete silence in the room. Mom blinked and stammered, and I thought she might faint. But she finally managed to get the words out. “Sweetie, that’s very generous but you can’t do that. It’s too much money.”
“Mom, remember Abraham?”
She blinked again, and then suddenly she whispered, “Oh.”
I smiled. I guess she had forgotten that my bookbinding mentor Abraham had left his entire estate to me when he died.
Needless to say, seventy thousand was a mere drop in the bucket. Okay, not really. It was a lot of money for almost anyone. Most days, I forgot that I had that kind of money in the bank. And I certainly didn’t make frivolous expenditures, like a fancy sports car or a pied-à-terre on the Boulevard Saint-Germain.
Last year, Derek and I had purchased the charming three-story Victorian building across the street from our apartment. It was known as the Courtyard Shops and it contained eight lovely shops and restaurants as well as apartments on the two upper floors. Our lawyers had considered it a wise investment since the building would’ve been torn down and replaced by soulless condos that would’ve diminished our property values and destroyed the spirt of the neighborhood.
But other than the Courtyard Shops, I hadn’t spent a dime of Abraham’s money. The money sat in an investment fund and made more money for me. It was weird.
“So, it’s settled,” I said. “Call the porta-potty guy and get those things rolling.”
Mom sniffed and smiled. “I’ll call them as soon as we take a break.”
“Thank you, Brooklyn,” Winston said quietly.
Sue grinned. “You’re a peach, girl.”
Clyde gave me a thumbs up and nodded proudly.
There was a commotion in the hall and the door suddenly banged open. And Jacob Banyan walked in.
I jumped up, ready to accuse him of attempted murder. Derek grabbed my hand and I managed to resist pouncing, but just barely.
“Mr. Banyan,” Mom said calmly, “you’re disrupting our meeting, as usual. Please leave now or I’ll call the police.”
“You won’t call anyone.” His voice was low and sinister. “I hear your little festival is broke. No money. I’d help you out, but I would need a little something in return.”
Mom played it cool. “And what would that be?”
I seriously wondered how she could be so calm. Was it all that deep breathing she did?
“It’s simple,” Banyan said. “I’ll give the festival one hundred thousand dollars, and all I want is a booth.” He tucked his hands into his pants pockets and rocked on his heels, obviously enjoying being in what he thought was the driver’s seat. “See? It won’t cost you a thing.”
Mom snorted. “Except our reputation, our pride, our honor, our dignity, our self-respect, our—”
“All right, all right!” he shouted, frustration dripping from every word. “That’s enough. I can pay for this festival without breaking a sweat. You need my money.”
“No, we don’t,” Mom said calmly, and her lips curved in a beautiful, delighted smile.
His eyes narrowed in on her, and he ignored her words and just said, “Now that I think about it, I do want one more thing.”
He swaggered over to my mother and pointed his finger right in her face. “I want you off this committee.”
My mother smacked his finger out of her face and seemed to enjoy his frustrated expression.
I happened to catch a glimpse of Saffron. She sat on the edge of her chair, almost shaking with . . . what? Excitement? Fear? Had she been the one to tell Banyan that the money had been stolen? How had he found out? Did Lawson tell him? Was that why Banyan had said what he said?
You’re nothing but a thief and a liar.
Had Saffron told Banyan to make his money offer conditional on getting rid of my mother so she could take over? Did she really think the rest of the committee would put up with her constant whining and inability to concentrate for more than ten seconds?
Clearly, Saffron hadn’t expected me to make my offer. And certainly not before her man Banyan had a chance to impress everyone with his generous proposition.
After another minute of chaos, Mom banged the gavel and called the meeting back to order.
She looked directly at the blowhard standing in front of her in his fancy dark suit and power tie and spoke clearly so everyone in the room would hear. “I want to thank Mr. Banyan for his generous offer, but we won’t need your money, sir. We already received an offer before yours and I accepted it on behalf of the committee.”
He was stunned into silence for half a second, then he exploded. “That’s a bunch of crap. You’re lying.”
“That’s not acceptable language here, sir,” Mom said in that edgy schoolmarm voice I was so familiar with.
“Do I care?”
“No more than I do for you,” she countered, taking the wind out of his sails. “Look, Mr. Banyan,” she tried again, her voice even. “Dharma is a small town. We all love it here and we welcome newcomers with open arms—unless they prove themselves to be unpleasant or even dangerous to others. You, sir, are a dangerous man with evil intentions.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” he muttered.
“So you admit you attempted to kill me?”
“What? You’re out of your mind.” His eyes narrowed. “But it’s not such a bad idea.”
“You’re a big jerk,” Sue said.
“Who asked you?” Banyan said, practically growling the words.
“You’re mean and you’re a bully,” Mom said. “And frankly, Mr. Banyan, you’re a distraction. We just don’t have time to deal with you and your nastiness. We’ve only got a few more days before we put on a major book festival and a full-scale musical production.”
“I don’t give a hoot about that stupid musical.” He gave a harsh laugh. “A bunch of amateurs and one pathetic over-the-hill actress who couldn’t sing her way out of a paper bag.”
“That’s uncalled for,” Winston said.
I caught a quick glimpse of poor Ryan who looked devastated. He pushed away from the table and shakily got to his feet. Was he going to faint? Had anyone ever said something like that about Shandi in front of him? I hoped he knew Banyan was full of hot air. The man had a need to lash out at anything standing in his way.
“How dare you, sir!” Ryan said, sounding like Dudley Do-Right protecting his fair lady.
“Buzz off,” Banyan snarled, and turned back to face Mom. “Look, all I want is a booth at the damn festival to sell my wine.”
“Dude, what you’re selling isn’t wine,” Jan argued.
Banyan rounded on Jan. “Who asked you?”
“That’s enough.” Mom stepped forward and pointed to the door. “You need to go. Now. Thank you and have a good day.”
Mom’s attempt to be pleasant was lost on Banyan. Everyone in the room watched and wondered what he would do now. Clearly, he didn’t intend to go anywhere.
I watched his jaw clenching tighter and tighter, and it reminded me of a torque wrench my father once used to tighten a bolt on his tire. He pushed it one click too far and the bolt cracked and the threads were stripped.
Banyan was about to crack.
I gave Derek a quick glance. We both knew that Banyan wouldn’t leave voluntarily and I was starting to worry that he might actually try to hurt my mother, right here in front of witnesses.
He moved even closer and bared his teeth at her. “I warned you more than once that your smart mouth would get you in trouble.”
“And you’d be smart to back off,” Mom said. “The police already suspect you of attacking me.”
“They’re barking up the wrong tree.”
My mother stared at him, not backing down. “Are you married, Mr. Banyan?”
“What?” His scowl grew even darker. “No, you idiot.”
She nodded. “I’m not surprised.”
“You . . .” He raised his fist and everyone gasped.
There was a blur of movement and Derek was across the room and gripping Banyan by the back of his shirt before anyone else could move. “That’s the last time you threaten a member of my family,” Derek said.
“Hey!” Banyan howled, twisting and squirming to get away from Derek. “Leggo of me!”
Derek said nothing else and just shoved him toward the door and out of the room. We heard Banyan’s shouts and cursing until Derek shut the door and locked it.
For five full seconds there was complete silence. Then nearly everyone stood and applauded. It was the shock of seeing someone physically confront the worst bully in town that did it.
Derek calmly brushed his shirt back into place and walked over to stand next to me. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“Wow,” Jan said breathlessly. “Amazing job. You’re a real hero.”
“You rock!” Sue cried.
Ryan stayed seated, looking dazed. I wondered if he was pleased by Derek’s actions or jealous that he hadn’t been the one brave enough to kick the guy out of the room.
I watched Clyde stand and raise his fist in a “power to the people” sign. Like so many others in town, he was an old hippie and now he simply grinned in triumph at the defeat of “the man.”
I wanted to laugh, but gazing at other expressions around the table sobered me up real fast. Especially Saffron’s. Her lips were pressed together in suppressed anger.
Mom ran over and threw her arms around Derek. “Thank you, sweetie.”
He patted her warmly on the back. “It was my distinct pleasure, Rebecca.”
I thought she might burst into tears so I reached for my purse to find a tissue. But instead, Mom moved her shoulders to some inner rhythm only she could hear.
I wouldn’t have been surprised to see her start doing a boogie around the room, but instead, she gave a weak smile and sat down. And I was reminded that she had suffered a concussion the night before. Banyan could’ve made things even worse, yelling at her like that.
I started to move toward her, thinking that maybe she’d want us to take her home. But instead, she picked up her gavel, banged it on the table two times, and said, “I’m ordering the porta-potties today, people. So let’s get this potty started!”
Chapter 12
On the return trip to Mom’s house I sat in the back seat and called our lawyer to ask him to expedite the transfer of funds from my investment account to my bank so I could start writing checks. It sounded so official and I guess it was, but mostly I was just thankful that Abraham had gifted me with enough money to use for good things. So many of us had been pushing for a book festival for years, and now I could be a part of making it happen.
Meanwhile, Mom made the call to the rental company and told the guy that she had a new source of funds and would hand him a cashier’s check when he delivered his porta-potties to Dharma.
When she ended the call, Mom made some notes in her book, then said cautiously, “I’ll need a check for ten thousand dollars. Are you still up for doing that?”
I smiled. “Mom, I’m doing this.” But wow, porta-potties aren’t cheap, are they? For that kind of money they should at least come with air fresheners.
“Oh, sweetie, you have saved our lives. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”
“Hey, I’m part of this festival, too, right?”
“A very important part,” she said firmly. “You always were.”
I leaned forward in the seat and patted her arm. “Our lawyer said it was a great idea to give you guys the money because I’ll be investing in my hometown, supporting literacy, and getting an excellent tax write-off for my business.”
“Wow. You’re a triple threat.” She laughed. “Well, then, I guess we’re back on track.”
“You bet we are.” I gave her shoulder a light squeeze, and then sat back in the seat. “So let’s get this potty started.”
Mom giggled. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”
“Superior,” Derek said. At a stop sign, he turned to look at Mom. “Would you like to stop by Arugula and take care of those negative vibes now?”
I had to smile. Derek rarely mentioned the word vibes, and never spoke of auras and enchantment spells and such. But for my mother, he was willing to get into the groove. It choked me up and made me love him all over again.
She laid her hand on Derek’s arm. “Don’t think too badly of me, sweetie, but I really just want to go home and rest. I promise I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Rebecca, it is impossible to think badly of you. I’ll drive you home now.”
I leaned forward again. “Honestly, Mom, I’m surprised you’re still standing after putting up with Saffron shooting daggers out of her eyes, and then that horrible Jacob Banyan threatening you for the tenth time. And let’s not forget Lawson’s murder, and then there’s the pilfering of seventy thousand dollars. No big deal.”
She shook her head and made a tsk-tsk sound. “When you put it all together, it sounds so awful.”
“It is awful. Really awful. Especially Jacob Banyan. I’m sure he’s responsible for your injuries last night. And good grief, he almost assaulted you this afternoon.”
“Thank goodness for Derek,” Mom whispered.
I patted Mom’s arm. “I say that ten times a day.”
Derek snorted. “Only ten times, darling?”
Mom laughed and it was a wonderful sound.
“Make that eleven,” I said, grateful that he’d made Mom laugh.
Derek turned and gazed at me, his lips twisted in an almost sheepish smile. “That’s quite enough.”
“I’m just going to close my eyes for a few minutes,” Mom murmured, and turned toward the passenger side window.
I leaned in close and whispered in Derek’s ear, “Thank you for protecting my mother.”
“She’s mine, too,” he said, low enough that only I heard him. My heart was almost too full to handle his words, so I just stroked his arm until the light turned green and he had to go back to concentrating on driving.
Unbidden, I had a sudden image of Jacob Banyan raising his fist at my mother and Derek rushing with lightning speed to stop him. I would never forget that moment.
But it brought home the stark fact that Banyan was a menace and Mom was in real danger.
And she wasn’t the only one, I realized all over again. If Clyde was wrong and Banyan had killed Lawson Schmidt over the Little Women book, it meant that I might be in mortal danger, too.
Again.
Still, I couldn’t see that oversized knucklehead Banyan wanting anything to do with an old, beat-up copy of Little Women. But maybe he knew how much Lawson had wanted the book and
what he’d done to obtain it. Thievery? Lying? Had Banyan tried to blackmail him? Was that why Lawson had stolen the festival money?
The only thing I knew for sure was that I was spinning around in circles with more questions than answers.
* * *
• • •
After making sure that Dad was home from his meeting, we dropped Mom off and drove down to our place to check on Charlie, give her some hugs, and freshen her food and water. We warmed up our breakfast tacos—which were even yummier than they’d been that morning—and had a glass of wine before changing into warmer clothes for the evening. I grabbed my down vest and Derek pulled on his worn leather jacket, and then we drove back to the Lane and walked three blocks to the theater next door to the town hall.
The actors were mid-rehearsal when we arrived so we walked quietly down the red-carpeted aisle and sat in the third row from the stage. There were a few people scattered throughout the audience who were dressed in vintage costumes so I figured they were cast members who weren’t in this scene.
I looked around for my sister London but didn’t see her anywhere.
“London must be backstage,” I whispered to Derek.
“She’s sitting in the back row, love,” he said. “There are two men with her.”
“She is?” It was so dark back there that I had to squint to see anything. Sure enough, I spied my youngest sister sitting with two others in the very last row. “You are so much more observant than I am.”
Of course he was, I thought. Derek had been with MI6, the British version of the CIA. If he didn’t notice people sitting behind him in the dark, it could mean his life.
I wondered if London, as the play’s director, was checking to make sure that the actors on stage were projecting their voices well enough to be heard in the farthest back rows.
The Grim Reader Page 20
