"Okay."
"Oh, but there's more," Rebecca said.
"Yeah. Jane says Lillybeth and Elaine are involved in some kind of interstate / international money printing scheme. Elaine started the relationship with Simon just to make sure there were rumors in town about Brad. Everything was on the two women, not him."
"That's interesting. Who killed him?"
"Jane figures Lillybeth hired someone. Are you guys watching her or is she free to run? Jane said they were planning on leaving the Midwest because the Secret Service was sniffing around."
"We don't have to worry about that. Between the FBI and the Secret Service, they know exactly where that woman is."
"But she had an alibi for his death."
"She can't go anywhere until we know more about his death or who exactly was involved in the counterfeiting."
"There's some old guy who was a master printer. Oh, and Brad managed to snag some test sheets of the currency and put those in with the rest of the proof of his wife's criminal activities."
Tab nodded. "Agent Paris said they knew who the printer was. Apparently, they snagged money he printed last spring."
"Lillybeth closed down the operation a month ago," Polly said. "She had Brad do it. Jane said it was so she didn't get her hands dirty."
"The guy is in the wind, then."
"Then who killed Brad and who shot at Jane's car?" Polly asked.
Tab laughed. "Apparently, your job isn't finished yet."
"Don't say that," Rebecca whined. "I want lunch first."
"If it's a hired killer, he's gone and the only person we'll be able to track is the one who hired him. But this is when I toss the hard work off to the feds." Tab grabbed the door handle. "You two be good. Thanks for delivering our latest witness. Would you like us to pay you for your time, Polly?"
"I'm thinking that a monthly retainer might be a good place for us to start," Polly said.
"We'll pay your coffee tab at Sweet Beans."
Polly burst out laughing. "Perfect."
Tab got out and they waited to leave until she was inside.
"You don't pay for coffee at Sweet Beans," Rebecca said.
"Exactly. That's the joke."
"They really should pay you, ya know. You're always solving something."
"And they always come when I need them. It’s a fair trade."
"It’s weird that lady just told you everything," Rebecca said.
"People want to tell their story. I just happened to be in the car."
"But she told you everything!"
"I already had some of the information. She was just filling in the blanks."
"Do you believe her?"
Polly glanced at Rebecca as she waited to exit the parking lot. "That’s a good question."
"It sounded like the truth."
"It is kind of a convoluted tale to make up, don't you think?"
"Yeah, but it’s hard to believe. Two women conspiring to set Jane's brother up to take the fall for them if they get caught. Do you think that Mrs. Anderson is smart enough to know a counterfeiter?"
"I think that people always have connections to someone who knows someone who is involved in criminal activities."
"Who do you know?"
"Joey Delancy, for one."
"But he was just psycho. He wasn't a criminal."
"Until he met a serial killer. And now he's in prison. If I were to ask if he could connect me to someone involved in counterfeiting, what are the odds?" Polly nodded. "Better yet, what if I were to ask him to connect me with someone who sells drugs. Do you think he'd be able to do it?"
"Yeah, but he's in jail."
"But I know him. That's what I'm trying to say. For me it's only one step. For you, it's two. Trust me, if you went to visit Joey Delancy, he'd love to help you in any way he could."
Rebecca shuddered. "That's creepy."
"A few years ago, Heath's teachers were involved in cooking meth. That’s another connection to criminals."
"I guess, but counterfeiting seems old-school."
"One question posed to the right person and you suddenly have a supply of criminals ready to take your money."
"I thought that was the problem. Mrs. Anderson was running out of money."
"It looks like there was enough to hire someone. And if she was willing to fund an enterprise where they literally made money, there would likely be investors."
"How will the Secret Service find everyone?"
"It’s out of our hands, now. Just like that piano player whose husband was dealing prescription painkillers across the Midwest. The FBI came in and started a big investigation. They still haven't gotten to everyone involved. I don't know how long Lillybeth had been involved with counterfeiting. At least a year, but I'd be surprised if it wasn't longer than that. She just brought it to Bellingwood a year ago."
"I can't believe no one knew."
"We believe the best about people," Polly said. "Who'd think that they were doing something illegal in the newspaper building? Bellingwood wanted her to come to town, invest in the newspaper, maybe hire a few people and get it running again. They didn't care how long it took or what kind of work she was doing on the inside of the building to get it there. Everyone saw people going in and out and didn't think a thing of it. Maybe they were renovating the apartment, maybe they were looking at equipment. Who knew?"
"It's like we're naive."
"We trust first. That's not a bad way to be."
"Doesn't it make you question things, though?"
"Not really," Polly turned east on the highway leading to Bellingwood. "I’d rather be naive and believe that people are exactly who they say they are. Here's the deal. Liars and cheats will expose themselves."
"Mrs. Anderson and her mother didn't."
"Her mother bailed out of the relationship with Simon before it got so deep that she would expose herself and you'll notice that Mrs. Anderson didn't spend much time in town." Polly turned north to head toward the downtown. "Oh, and by the way … they're exposed now. Don't let that escape your notice."
"You're right. Where are we going to eat?"
"Your choice."
"You drove past the barbecue place."
"Is that what you want?"
"No, I’d have said something. Let's just go to Sweet Beans and then maybe you could take me down to Greene Space for a minute?"
"You miss it?"
"A lot. Maybe I could stay there while you get the littles."
"We'll see."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"So, will you please listen to me play?" Elijah begged.
Polly blew out a breath. With Rebecca hobbled and Cat upstairs in bed, she'd had very little help keeping the kids in line. Andrew was coming over after dinner, but he’d likely spend the evening with Rebecca. Hayden had come home early from school to take care of his wife, but he'd been called back to Ames for something with his job. Heath spent the afternoon at a work site after class and wasn't planning to get home until just before dinner, and Henry would walk in between five thirty and six.
She'd made up a bunch of tater tot casseroles. Beef, vegetables and tater tots. The kids loved it and the meal couldn't be easier. Bread would come out of the mixer in just a few minutes. All she needed to do was shape the dough into rolls and put them into the oven.
Polly had decided to make an extra casserole, hoping she and Henry could run it out to his employee this evening. Donnie Raymond had been through so much and he didn't have anyone else in his life. She felt awful for him.
"Please?" Elijah asked again.
Polly nodded. Everything else could wait. He was up and down and back and forth about the recital this weekend. Excited and terrified all at the same time. She'd listened to him play the pieces he'd memorized every single day, but how could she deny the boy? He needed an audience.
Noah was helping JaRon with his homework while Caleb was in the library practicing for his piano lesson. Cassidy was with Rebecca, tasked w
ith helping her older sister, whether it was getting her something to drink or finding Rebecca's flute. Noah was such a good older brother. He'd taken Cassidy up to feed Rebecca's cats, patiently teaching her how to measure the food and make sure the water dish was clean and full. She wasn't quite ready to scoop litter, but that would come in time.
The boys had been on their best behavior the last couple of days, willing to do whatever it was that Polly wanted, and whatever Rebecca needed. Noah had felt especially guilty, knowing that as the oldest, he should have taken responsibility when the older people in the house weren't available. Elijah was the only one of them that seemed to have moved on, even though she was certain he'd been the instigator of the trouble.
Oh, they still played hard and got mad at each other over silly little things. They all pushed each other's buttons and fought about what belonged to them and who had more time with a video game or who got to have Obiwan or Han sleep with them. The list of things those four boys could fight about was extensive. But they'd been careful to notice where Polly was when they chose to get noisy with each other.
The bathrooms had all been carefully scrubbed clean, and though their rooms were still chaotic messes, the worst of it had been slapped back onto shelves so at least Polly and Henry could walk through their rooms without stepping on small bits and pieces that hurt like heck.
Not that Rebecca's room was much better. In fact, now that she was hobbling around, it was worse than ever. How that girl managed to destroy her room in two short days was beyond Polly.
She laughed to herself as she followed Elijah through the foyer to the living room. It wasn't beyond Polly at all. There was a time, not so long ago, when she was the worst housekeeper in the world. If she thought too hard about it, she felt guilty for coming down on the kids. Kind of like a reformed smoker or a person who lost a large amount of weight. Just because they managed to do it, they thought everyone else should be able to do the same.
Nope, no guilt. She was raising her kids to be better than her. Or at least she was trying. Fortunately, she had Henry. He’d never understood her disorderly house when they'd been dating. He was sweet and polite about it, but the man was forever straightening and cleaning the apartment back then.
Mary Shore and Polly's father never allowed her to get away with a messy room. Neither of them cleaned it for her, but she’d gotten tired of hearing how disappointed they were that she was unable to do one thing around the house when they were busy with so many other things.
Elijah waited until she'd taken a seat on the sofa, then sat down on the bench. He'd been working on his presentation, shook both hands out to his sides, then brought them up and slowly lowered them to the keyboard. She did her best not to giggle. He was so serious.
The first notes of Satie's Gymnopedies rang out and Polly smiled at the command Elijah took over the piano. The summer spent with the folks at the piano restoration shop had given him more confidence. Jeanie Dykstra was a wonderful teacher, but he'd connected with Brandon Fortney. The young man who looked like a body builder was an amazing pianist. Elijah talked about him all the time and took everything Brandon said to heart.
Brandon, Len, and Roy Eslick loved having the little boy help around the shop. Haley Ferguson was great help with the technical side of piano restoration, but she was more of a woodworker than a musician. She played the piano and loved being part of what Len Specek was doing, but when asked if she'd participate in the recital this weekend, said no. That wasn't her specialty. The three men would be playing.
Elijah had informed Polly today that he wished he had a tuxedo to wear.
There was no time left to shop for a tux and buying something that expensive was crazy. They'd gotten him a new suit last spring and he'd already grown out of the thing. Polly had another one coming in tomorrow and had she known how important a tux was to him, she might have done something different. If she had a performer on her hands, keeping this boy in clothing that fit was going to be a problem until he was older. At least there were a couple of younger brothers who could wear the clothes after Elijah grew out of them. For that matter, her friends had boys who would soon be in the sizes her boys left behind.
While he focused, she quietly brought out her phone and sent a text to Henry. "What if I took Elijah out of school early tomorrow to run over to Ames and fit him for a tux. Rental, of course." Then she turned off her phone.
She’d never heard these pieces until he began practicing them earlier this summer and found herself entranced by the passion in the music. Jeanie knew what she was doing when she gave Elijah music that allowed him to release his emotions into his fingers. That was the last thing she expected from the little boy who had so much life and energy. But when he sat at the piano, he let the whole world slip away. It was just him and his music.
It was in these moments that Polly felt she saw the true boy behind the high energy life he led. She hoped he’d grow up and allow this part of himself to shine away from behind the piano.
~~~
After dinner, she left Hayden and the boys in charge of cleanup and escaped with Henry to take the casserole out to Donnie Raymond.
"Have you talked to him?" she asked Henry.
"No. He was pretty upset." Henry shook his head. "He was more upset than either Gavin or Leroy. Like he'd betrayed me somehow."
"With all that's been going on, the poor guy probably feels guilty about everything." She lifted the casserole pan off her lap. "We should have done this a long time ago. I hate that I didn't think about it until now."
"The guys on his crew have tried to take care of him. They invite him to join them after work."
"Who does he usually work with?"
"Some of the young guys. You met Tommy Aller and Rick Jones at the Christmas party. And Leroy, too. But Ben Bowen usually runs that crew. His wife invited Donnie to Christmas at their house last year. He didn't take them up on it, but at least she made the effort. Don't feel guilty, Polly. It isn't like my insurance won't cover the loss."
"You're right. Did you see my text about Elijah's tuxedo?"
Henry nodded. "I responded. You didn’t get it?"
"I forgot to turn my phone back on. He was playing for me and after I sent it, I didn't want him to think I wasn't paying attention."
"Is he ready for Saturday?"
"He was ready a couple of weeks ago. I think he likes having an audience. He's turning into quite a little showman."
"I'm glad you only want to rent the tux. He's not done growing. If we have a lot of these performances coming up, buying new tuxedos will get expensive."
"I bought a new suit that will be here tomorrow. Then he told me today that Roy and Brandon are coming in their tuxedos."
"He wants to be just like them," Henry said with a grin. "If I hear another story about Brandon and the performances he's given, I might laugh at our boy."
"He idolizes the young man."
Henry nodded "And that makes sense. Brandon's a good-looking, well-built man. That kind of physical strength is something that Elijah would have looked up to when he lived in Chicago. And now to find it in someone who is also talented at the piano? That's a good role model to have."
"But, still," Polly said. "Even Noah mocks him when he talks about Brandon."
"He'll get over it and find other heroes along the way. Why don't you let me take him to Ames for the tux?"
Polly turned in her seat. "Do you want to?"
"I wish we'd known last weekend, but I can make the time tomorrow. Would you be able to make some calls so we aren't wandering all over hell and back looking for one that fits him?"
"I'd be glad to." Polly took her phone out of her pocket and powered it back on. "As soon as this thing comes to life, remind me to email his teacher so you don't surprise them at the school. Oh shoot, should we have invited him to come to the recital?"
Henry chuckled. "Maybe not Saturday. Isn't the purpose to give people an opportunity to see the new piano?"
"Oh
yeah," she said. "Elijah has been so caught up in preparing for this, I forgot that it wasn't about him. In fact, I originally thought it would be a perfect opportunity for Len Specek to play for his friends. Andy says he's nervous."
"You can hardly blame him. Len has never been the outgoing gregarious type. Now you've asked him to step onto a stage."
"Behind a piano."
"Not any place you'd ever get me." He pointed ahead. "It's right up here. That little house set way back on that lot."
"Is that his truck?" Polly asked.
Henry nodded.
"I guess it doesn't matter now that he’s left it outside. Not like the thieves haven't already hit his place."
"Polly, we have to figure out who’s doing this."
"I think it's on Bert to figure it out, not us," she said.
"He has nothing. This thief is a ghost." Henry drove down the lane toward the house. A ramshackle shed sat off to one side.
"Is that his garage?"
"Yeah. He has a chain and a padlock on the big doors, but one good stiff wind and the thing would come down."
"A couple of good stiff winds and the house would go down with it. Is this where he lived with his family? And he's a carpenter?"
"Donnie mostly does sheet rock, tile and flooring. I wouldn't call him a carpenter. You know how it is with us construction guys. Nothing ever gets done at our own homes."
Polly glared at him as he pulled in behind Donnie Raymond's truck. "Things get done in our house."
"Not because of me. You're the one who makes sure nothing falls behind."
"That's not true and you know it." She held out the casserole. "Do you want to do this, or do you want me to come with you. If he's ashamed of his house, would he want the boss's wife in there?"
The Sounds of Home Page 26
