I Know What You Bid Last Summer

by Sherry Harris

  Betty Jenkins from the school board walked in.

  “Betty,” I said. “What are you doing here?” This was what I loved about living in Ellington. There was always someone I knew near at hand.

  “I’m picking up my granddaughter.” She pointed at a little blond girl. “We are going to the pool and then out to lunch.” Her granddaughter was over helping Carol wash out paintbrushes.

  “I have a question for you,” I said.

  “Shoot.”

  “It’s about the night that Anil and Melba got in the fight.”

  “Oh, dear, that was awful.”

  “Do you know what happened?”

  “I went to the bathroom. When I got out to the parking lot, Melba and Anil were shouting at each other.” She put her hand to her throat. “Rex and Mac had to restrain them.”

  Mac? Mac had told me he wasn’t there. “Did you hear anything? Do you know what they were fighting about?”

  “Rex told me it was just the continuing disagreement about the budget. But I’m not sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because as I came out, Anil was yelling something about last summer. Mac was telling him to shut up.”

  Betty’s granddaughter ran up to her. “Ready to go, Grandma?”

  Betty took her granddaughter’s hand. “You bet I am.” She turned to me. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

  Carol walked over to me. I started helping her straighten up. “What was that all about?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure. But someone is covering up something about Melba’s murder. I think Anil was right when he told me he was being framed.”

  “You need to tell the police.”

  “I will.” When I had enough information, instead of just my gut telling me something was wrong. What did last summer possibly have to do with the budget?

  “Something else on your mind?” Carol asked.

  “Your kids are in the Ellington school system?”

  “Why, yes, they are.” Carol smiled to soften her words.

  “What do you think of it overall?”

  “Overall, we’re very happy. That’s one of the reasons we decided to stay here.”

  “Did you ever hear any scuttlebutt about the board or Melba?”

  “Yeesh. Of course I did. This is a small town, after all. But nothing about murdering someone.” She said the word murdering with an evil voice and rubbed her hands together.

  I laughed. “Don’t give up your day job,” I said. “What did you hear?”

  “Nothing that would lead to Melba being murdered. Sorry.”

  “Yeah, it’s never that easy.”

  “Actually, a lot of parents were really happy about all the money for the new sports equipment. Everyone is so conscious about concussions now. Which reminds me. Have you talked to Laura? How’s Brody?”

  “I need to call her. Let me know if you hear anything, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  Chapter 25

  My next two attempts at finding the stolen merchandise from the swap were a complete failure. No Mike. Both of the people selling their items were completely legit. In fact, one met me at a police station in Lexington, which was now a safe zone for people who were buying and selling online. So I was now the proud owner of a signed Patriots jersey and a Bruins hockey stick. I had put them up for sale on my virtual garage sale and hoped I could recoup my costs.

  After a quick stop home for lunch, I walked over to city hall to see Nancy Elder. The walk was only a few blocks, and the less I had to use Rex’s truck, the better. Fortunately, Nancy was in her office.

  “I’m leaving in two minutes,” she said. She was standing behind her desk, in a red power suit, gathering papers.

  “You look nice,” I said.

  “I’m giving a speech to the Middlesex County League of Women Voters.”

  “That’s great.” Maybe she was taking steps to make her move to bigger and better things.

  “Have you resolved the situation we discussed?” she asked.

  “Not yet. But I’m working on it.”

  “Then what are you doing here?” She stuffed the papers in a brown leather briefcase.

  “I want access to the complete school budget for the past couple of years and all the minutes of the school board meetings.”

  “Okay. I’m guessing you’re here, instead of at the superintendent’s office, so no one knows.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll let you use my office and computer. I’ll tell my assistant that you are working on the garage sale for next fall and aren’t to be disturbed. When you’re done, sign out. And no snooping where you aren’t supposed to. I’ll have a record of everything you look at.”

  “Fine.” What did she think I planned to do? “Do you have access to their listserv?”

  “I do. They loop me in on some things. I’ll sign in for you.” Nancy’s beautifully manicured fingers flew over her keyboard. “I’ve pulled up two files. The budget and the minutes and signed you into the listserv. I hope this will help you find answers.” Nancy picked up her briefcase and headed to the door.

  “Kick butt at the meeting.”

  Nancy paused at the door and smiled at me. “Thank you. I will.”

  I closed the door after she left, and settled into her comfy leather chair. I opened the first file. Since I wasn’t really a numbers girl, I hoped I could make sense of all of it. I didn’t even know what I was looking for.

  Thirty minutes later my eyes were almost glazed over and I had only finished the first document, the budget from two years ago. I’d concentrated mostly on items relating to the arts and sports, since that was where the recent disagreements seemed to stem from. I decided to switch to the minutes of the board meetings before tackling the next budget. While all of this was public record, I was hoping subcommittee meetings or other documents that were not so readily available might be here.

  I read through the listserv between the board members. There had been a flurry of contentious e-mails last spring, that ended in June. I checked the minutes of the July meeting. A line said that the board had agreed to buy new sports equipment across a broad spectrum of sports. Everyone but Anil had voted for the purchase. I wondered why Betty had agreed, because in the e-mail loop, she was pro arts, too.

  I went back to the expense reports for the spring and summer of last year. In August there was a bump in the expenses for sports equipment, but it wasn’t that big, considering all the things they had agreed to buy. I checked the next several months to see if they’d spread the payments over several months, but the numbers dropped back to the prepurchase amount for September through December.

  I leaned back in the chair and swiveled it around to stare out the window. Down the street I could see the police department building and the library. Maybe none of this meant anything and I was wasting my time, or maybe citizens had done fund-raising, like they had for the Astroturf football field. If they had, I’d missed seeing it in the paper—I had been incredibly busy building my business last summer. I swiveled back around to look at a couple more documents.

  After I signed out, I thanked Nancy’s assistant and started my walk home. Rex bought tons of sports equipment for local teams. Maybe he had some source that kept costs down. I’d check with him when I took his truck back.

  * * *

  Ryne called at one-thirty, when I was almost back home. “The kid’s here that came in the other day. If you want to come get a look at him.”

  “I do. Can you stall him while I drive over there?”

  “I’ll do my best, but he seems a little antsy. It doesn’t look like he has any of the stuff that was stolen from your swap, but maybe he’s here on a fishing expedition to see how lax we are about provenance.”

  “Haggle,” I said.

  “I know how to do that.”

  “Duh. After the way you took me at that last sale, I know you drive a hard bargain.”

  “Just get here as fast as you
can. I’ve got to go, or the kid will get suspicious.”

  It took me twenty minutes to get there, and by the time I walked in the store, the kid had left.

  “Sorry. I did my best. We haggled.” Ryne looked at me to make sure the word sank in. I motioned with my finger for him to go on. “I told him I wanted to take a few pictures and show them to my uncle. That my uncle made the final decisions about what we bought.” Ryne shook his head. “It must have spooked him. He said there were plenty of places that would take his merchandise. Then he scooped it up and sailed out of here.”

  “Oh,” was all I could manage.

  “But I did get a picture of the kid.” Ryne opened his phone, found the picture, and handed his phone to me.

  The picture was a little blurry because of the low lighting in here. But the boy looked familiar.

  “Will you text that to me?” My phone binged when the picture arrived seconds later. “Thanks for trying.”

  * * *

  I flopped on my couch when I got home. I realized I hadn’t talked to Lance yet about Melba’s murder. He ran some kind of business, but I couldn’t remember exactly what he did. I opened his bio on the school board site. It said he was a local businessman, but didn’t go into the specifics. I did a Google search. Lance had his fingers in a lot of local pies. He had invested in a local restaurant, had been the booster club president for years, had helped develop a new housing area to the north of town that included some low-income housing, and seemed to belong to every local organization there was.

  Lance had also had some failures. He’d tried to open an ice cream stand, but the competition from well-established Bedford Farms to the east and Kimball Farm in Carlisle to the west had sunk that project. He and Kelly had opened a gymnastics place, but it had closed after two years. Various other businesses were mentioned, too. Although maybe that didn’t mean the businesses had failed, but that he had just been trying to find a passion. I knew people in the military who had switched from one career field to another, hoping to find the perfect fit. I couldn’t find a business address for him, so I decided to swing by their house. Maybe he worked from home.

  * * *

  I rang the doorbell at the Longs’ house. One of their blond sons answered and recognized me. I asked for Lance.

  “Just a minute. I’ll get him.”

  “Wait. Do you and your friends ever have time for some extra projects? Sometimes I need help at the garage sales I run.” Maybe this was a way to get in touch with the kid who was selling the sports items.

  Lance’s son grinned. “We’re always looking for a way to make a buck.”

  I gave him my number. “Will you text me the names and numbers of kids who might be willing to help?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Sarah. What are you doing here?” Kelly walked toward me from the back of the house. She was in another tennis dress but was coiffed to the nines, so either she hadn’t played yet or she just liked to run around in tennis clothes.

  “I wanted to see Lance. I need to follow up on the equipment swap with someone and wasn’t sure who to talk to.” I wasn’t sure where that came from, but it sounded better than saying Nancy Elder had asked me to interview possible suspects.

  Kelly looked suspicious for a moment. But it was fleeting. “Have a seat in the living room and I’ll get him, if he’s free.”

  The living room had a massive stone fireplace, comfy chairs, and book-lined walls. Books that looked loved and read. A beautiful art deco bar had been set up in one corner, with vintage shakers, martini glasses, and a large selection of alcohol. I had always thought Kelly would be the kind to have a designer house, but every room I’d been in looked well used and comfortable. It gave me a warm, homey feeling.

  Lance walked in a couple of minutes later. “Sarah, it’s good to see you. What can I do for you?”

  “I just wanted to follow up with someone about the equipment swap.”

  “Even with the unfortunate incidents, you did a great job. Have a seat,” Lance said as he gestured to the couch.

  I plunked down on one end. Lance sat across from me in a cushy chair. “I’m so sorry that things were stolen. It’s so disheartening, when the money from their sale would have helped the local school kids.”

  “But you kept out some of the most expensive items. We had good numbers, even with those that were stolen,” Lance said.

  “I’m so glad to hear that.” I paused trying to decide what to say next. “And then there’s Melba.”

  “Finding her must have been awful for you.”

  “It was.”

  “Everyone appreciates how you emptied the gym so none of the kids present would know what had happened.”

  “It was instinct.”

  “Well, you certainly have good ones.”

  “What do you think about Anil’s arrest?” I asked.

  “I’m shocked, of course.”

  He didn’t look that shocked, but maybe enough time had passed that any shock value had worn off. “I heard he had a huge fight with Melba. What was that about?”

  Lance stood so I did too.

  Darn it. No one wanted to talk about that fight.

  “The budget,” he said.

  “I thought I read that they were usually in agreement with each other.”

  “Until recently, that was true.”

  “What changed?” I asked.

  “Anil. But I never thought he’d murder her.”

  “So you think he did it?”

  Lance looked surprised. “Of course. He was arrested. The police can’t have just made up charges.”

  No. But evidence could have been planted if someone was planning on murdering Melba all along. “Do you know who benefits from her death? Financially?”

  “I’m not really sure, but I heard rumors that she left everything to the school system. And that part of the money would fund scholarships for women to attend college.”

  Kelly came back in. “Lance, honey. You have a phone call.”

  We walked back into the foyer. Kelly opened the door as Lance trotted upstairs. I stepped out.

  “I heard you asking Lance about Melba. This is a difficult time for him. For us. We’ve known Melba a long time, as a classmate, a teacher to our children, and now as superintendent. Please choose your questions wisely.” She shut the door gently right in my face.

  I sighed. What did I expect? I sat in Rex’s truck, trying to regroup. Mac had lied. Maybe it was time to find out why.

  Chapter 26

  I stood in the doorway of Mac’s office at his grocery store a little after three. He sat behind his desk.

  “You can come all the way in and have a seat, you know.” Mac gestured to the rickety-looking chair I’d sat in last time.

  “I’m good.”

  “What da ya think? I killed Melba? And so you’re afraid to come in?” He chuckled but stopped abruptly. “You do think that, don’t you? I didn’t. I’m not the one in jail.”

  “You lied to me.”

  “About what?” Mac asked.

  “You said you weren’t there the night of the fight between Melba and Anil. I heard otherwise.”

  Mac rubbed a meaty paw over his butcher’s apron. “Oh, that. Telling a lie doesn’t make me a killer.”

  It didn’t take him off my list either. “So what’s the real story?”

  “Those folks could all be so dramatic. I try to stay out of that kind of stuff. I have three ex-wives and five daughters. I got enough drama in my life.”

  “What were they fighting about?”

  “Nothing important. Something that happened last summer.”

  “Please be more specific.”

  Mac stood up. “It wasn’t anything that got Melba killed.”

  “Why won’t anyone talk about it if something important didn’t happen that night? Everyone keeps mentioning the budget but won’t say anything else,” I said.

  “Anil went ballistic over the sports equipment purchase. I guess he rese
nted it more than anyone thought, since he killed Melba.” He took off his butcher’s apron and hung it on a wobbly coat-tree behind him. “Anil killed her, not me. Not anyone else.” He smoothed down his brown plaid shirt. “I can walk you out.”

  Out in the parking lot, Mac stopped and looked around. “Rex must be here.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “His truck is right over there.” Mac pointed to my loaner.

  “He very generously loaned me the truck since my Suburban was stolen.”

  Mac guffawed. “Rex pawned that old thing off on you?”

  “Yes, but it’s very special to him.”

  “Did you fall for that story? He’s so cheap that he came up with that so his customers wouldn’t feel cheated and he didn’t have to risk loaning one of his good cars if a customer needed one.”

  And here I’d been so worried about something happening to the truck. Why anyone thought I could solve a murder when I was that naive was beyond me.

  * * *

  After my conversations with Lance and Mac, I went home. I needed to get the lasagna Ryne had dropped off over to DiNapoli’s without anyone knowing what it really was. I grabbed a gift bag and tissue paper out of a stash in my hall closet. I placed the lasagna in the bottom of the bag, added tissue paper, stuck in a bar of handmade soap someone had given me, just in case people were around when the DiNapolis opened the bag, and set out.

  The sun beat down on my shoulders as I walked. Maybe I was all wrong about the school board members and needed to refocus on who had stolen the swap items. Mike and Seth were still up to something I didn’t understand. Neither of them wanted me to, but I felt like it was somehow connected to the sports equipment swap and maybe even Melba’s death. And what the heck had Mike Titone been doing, buying sports stuff on the Web? He had a seemingly successful business. Nothing sports oriented had hung in his store. His black SUV didn’t have any team logos on it, like so many cars in this area did. I knew Mike was a big runner. I didn’t know that much else about him. The thing that really got my mind racing was it didn’t seem very Mob-like. Unless this had something to do with what was up between him and Seth.