“Okay,” he drew out. It didn’t seem like he was buying it.
“It will be great. Just wait and see.”
“I’ll do anything I can to help. I promise. Now. I’m gone before those ladies show up and rope me into a meeting.”
Polly looked at the time on her computer. “Better hurry.”
Henry’s eyes grew big and he bolted out the door of the office.
Jeff came around the corner from his office and said, “I meant to ask you. What’s with all the paint in the gravel out front?”
Through gritted teeth, Polly said, “We had some vandalism early Sunday morning.”
“What?”
“Someone flung paint on the front of Sycamore House. The only things we weren’t able to fully clean were the doors.”
“How did you get it cleaned up?”
“Fortunately they used latex paint and we used power washers.
“So, no idea who did it?”
“None at all. I filed a report with Ken Wallers. I hope that’s the last of it, but he doesn’t seem to think it’s over, because it was too brazen. You haven’t made anyone angry, have you?”
Rather than look shocked, Jeff took a moment to think about it. “No, I don’t think so. There was the guy who was staying here last month who thought he shouldn’t have to pay us for the week he spent out at the river getting high and taking pictures. But, we worked that out. He wouldn’t have been angry enough to come back and retaliate. And besides, he lives in Idaho.”
“Well, if you do know someone from around here who might have a reason to hurt us, let me or Ken know. I hate to think about what they might do next.”
“Hello!” Lydia called from the front door. She came into the main office with Beryl and Andy and pointed at the conference room. “Can we use your projector? We have great ideas.”
Polly stood up and grabbed her nearly empty mug. Three cups wasn’t a record, but she didn’t feel as if she was finished yet. “Sure,” she said. “Come on in. I’m getting excited about this.”
“We are too,” Andy laughed. “Did you talk to Henry about building the coffin? Len said he’d help.”
“Henry’s on it. I invited him to stay for this meeting, but he ran over to Len’s house for something or other.” Polly nearly bit her tongue when she finished speaking.
“Really? What for?” Andy asked.
“I don’t know. He wanted to ask Len about a project they were working on.”
“Oh,” she said. “I’m glad Henry asks for his help. Len enjoys working with him.”
Polly nodded and turned back to the coffee pot, which was just starting a new cycle.
Lydia had grabbed Jeff, who was helping her sync her laptop to the projector system. “Do you want to stay while we show Polly what we’re planning?” she asked him.
He looked at Polly, who shook her head in the negative, then shrugged her shoulders. “No, if you don’t mind. I’ve got some things to take care of for the Ball. I also have a meeting with the ministerial association this morning.”
“What’s that about?” Lydia asked.
“The food pantry can’t handle all of the food that gets distributed before Thanksgiving, so we’re going to open up that Sunday through Wednesday for collection and distribution.”
“That’s terrific,” Andy said. “They’ve used the elementary school in the past, but with all of the school budget cuts, it’s probably easier if they don’t have to keep the building open.”
Jeff went into his office and Polly waited for the coffee pot to finish brewing, then poured herself a cup. “Fresh coffee if you want it.” She went into the conference room and sat down and didn’t have to wait long for the others to join her. Lydia clicked onto the first page and they looked at the screen.
She had found strobe lights and black lights, a fog machine and netting to create the ambience of a haunted house. The women weren’t using blood and gore for the children, but according to Beryl, shock and surprise was always good for the heart.
The littlest children could get their candy at the front door and leave, but anyone who wanted to brave the short path through and around the foyer would have a good time. A ghost made from white netting would float down from above, hung by dark fishing line and lit by black lights. They had ordered haunted house soundtracks and Beryl was going to dress as a horrible clown who would jump out as strobe lights flashed in the guest’s faces. That would be the worst fright they’d have this year. Tombstones and gargoyles would round out the decorations.
“Who is cleaning up the floor when those little kids wet themselves?” Beryl asked.
Polly grinned at her. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m going to be the creepiest clown ever. All of their nightmares are going to be real when they see me.”
“So, you don’t think that a vampire coming out of the coffin or a ghost floating above them or a real, live stomping Frankenstein’s monster will scare them?”
Beryl slid Lydia’s laptop over in front of her and clicked through, then pointed at a clown, with huge red lips and blood smearing its face. One arm was missing and the costume was aged and horrific. “That’s what I’m planning to look like. Still think your pale-faced vampire is worse?”
Polly shuddered. “I hate clowns. More than I hate snakes, I hate clowns.”
“I know!” Beryl laughed. “That’s why it’s such a great idea. I’ve always wanted to horrify kids. I still don’t understand why Ronald McDonald gets away with it. He’s awful looking.”
“Because he gives kids great-tasting fries,” Polly said. “His priorities are in the right place. And besides, McDonald’s has had fifty years to make kids believe he won’t eat them in their dreams.”
“You did a nice job cleaning the front of the building, dear,” Lydia said, interrupting them. “The doors don’t look too bad today. I was worried about those.”
“We all were, but I’m going to leave it to Henry now.”
“Did you welcome him back last night?” Beryl asked coyly.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” Polly said, “but I cooked him a really nice meal and I even made an apple pie.”
“They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, I guess,” Andy said.
“Is that why you keep inviting Len over for dinner?” Beryl laughed. “Are you trying to get to his heart?”
“I think I’ve already found it, thank you very much,” Andy retorted. “We’re having a very nice time together. So there.” She stuck her tongue out and made a raspberry sound.
Beryl wiped the front of her blouse. “You’re sloppy,” she said.
Andy just groaned.
“Do you have a wedding this weekend?” Lydia asked Polly.
“I’m sure we do. I don’t think there are any open weekends until next March. Why?”
“Can we begin construction on Sunday afternoon? I want to make sure things are coming together.”
Polly stood and walked to Jeff’s office. He looked up. “Can they get in on Sunday to build the set for Halloween? Do you have anything scheduled that would be affected by that next week?”
“There are things going on in the classrooms. Just tell them to leave a path for people to walk,” he said, a little distractedly.
“Is everything okay?” Polly asked.
“I don’t know,” he said and continued to look at his screen.
“What does that mean?”
Jeff looked up at her. “Okay, what do you make of this?” He turned the monitor on his desk so she could see it.
“What am I looking at?”
“Read the email.”
Polly bent over and looked at the email. “Tell pretty girl it’s going to cost her.”
“Pretty girl?” she said. “That’s what Henry calls me.”
“I know. I’ve heard him. Everybody’s heard him. What do you think this means?”
“Call Ken Wallers. I’ll call Aaron. I don’t know if this is about the
vandalism or the murder, or if it’s something else, but they should know about this. It sounds like a threat.”
“You should check your own email. This just came in.”
Polly stepped back into the conference room. “Jeff says that Sunday is cool.”
“What’s wrong, Polly. You look like something scared you to death.”
“I don’t know,” Polly said. “I think someone just threatened me in Jeff’s email. I need to go check mine and then I’m calling Aaron.” She didn’t say anything more and walked into her office. She opened her email in the browser and sure enough there was one to her from the same email address
“You will pay for what you did or things will get worse.”
Great. She had no idea what was going on. Polly picked up her phone and dialed Aaron.
“Polly? Why are you calling me?”
“No body. I promise. But, I just got a strange email and so did Jeff. Someone is threatening me. It sounds like they want money, but I don’t know what for. Jeff is talking to Ken Wallers, just in case it’s about the vandalism.”
“Why don’t you just marry Henry so I can quit worrying about you being there by yourself,” Aaron asked.
That was enough to make her chuckle, “He hasn’t asked me yet and don’t you dare tell him that he has to so that he can keep me safe. You know how I feel about that.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re a strong woman and can take care of yourself.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
“I’m sending my tech goddess up to you about two o’clock. She’ll see if there’s anything she can do to track down who sent that email. Her name is Anita Banks. You’ll like her. She thinks men are useless appendages, too.”
“That’s not what I said,” Polly protested.
“I know. I’m teasing. But, I think you’ll like her.”
“Thanks, Aaron.”
They hung up and she looked at the time. She needed to head up to the diner to have lunch with Joss, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. Why would someone threaten her?
She looked up to see Lydia, Beryl and Andy standing in her doorway. Lydia stepped in, “Are you okay?”
“I think so. Aaron is sending some girl up to look at my email.”
“Oh, that’s Anita. She’s fantastic. Talk about a bright girl.”
“I have to meet Joss for lunch at the diner, but I’m a little weirded out by this,” Polly said.
“Go have a tenderloin,” Beryl said. “You know that’s what you need. Some grease and some carbs. It will make you feel much more normal.”
“I can’t forget to let Obiwan out when I get back,” she muttered to herself.
“Use your note app to send yourself a reminder,” Andy quietly said.
Polly chuckled. “I’m training all of you, aren’t I!”
“Yes you are. Now go on. Your friend is waiting.”
“Thanks,” Polly said. She walked out of the office with them and then hugged each in turn. “I love you all.”
“We love you too, dear,” Lydia patted Polly’s arm as they left. “Be safe today.”
Polly went through the kitchen to her garage and got into her truck. They were right. A tenderloin would help.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Nothing was better than lunch with a friend, and Polly had something new to think about. Joss wanted Obiwan to come to the library as a reading therapy dog. She had done the research and found training in Des Moines. Polly could begin immediately and finish before Thanksgiving. It would be a terrific opportunity for her to spend more time with books and kids. She didn’t miss her job at the Boston Public Library, but when things got to be too much, she looked back on those days as simple and quiet.
She pulled into the garage and ran upstairs to get Obiwan. He was sitting at the top of the steps waiting for her. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He followed her back down and they went outside. “We were talking about you today. How would you like to spend time at the library letting kids read to you? Do you think that would be fun?”
He wagged his tail and they walked toward the creek. She was so fortunate to own this property. The sycamore trees growing on either side of the creek bed had been there for years and offered wonderful shade in the summer. The leaves were beginning to turn now and she knew they would soon fill her yard.
When they went in the front door, she started for the stairs until she heard noise coming from the offices. She and Obiwan went in and a woman was practically screaming at Jeff.
“But, I have to get into his room. His computer is in there and he told me the manuscript was finished. Do you understand how important this is now that he is dead? I have to get it now!”
“What’s going on?” Polly asked.
“Are you the owner? Let me into Thomas Zeller’s room! I must be allowed access to his things. Open that door!”
The woman was in her late thirties with closely cropped dirty blonde hair. She wore no makeup and her eyes were red-rimmed, behind a pair of glasses that were much too large for her face. She had thin lips that kept pressing together as she spoke.
Finally Polly had enough. “Whoa. Stop. Who are you?”
Jeff began to speak, but the woman interrupted him. “I do not understand why this is so difficult for you. I can’t help it that Tommy hid in the boondocks, but surely someone understands the importance of time. I’ve been traveling this hell hole of a state and isn’t there someone with some intelligence?”
“I’m sorry you are upset,” Polly said, “but please stop yelling.”
“If you would get me what I need, yelling would be unnecessary, but until I’m allowed access, I am your worst nightmare. Do you understand? Now fix this, you stupid, stupid people!” The woman ramped up to a shriek and Polly backed up.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and gathered herself, knowing that what she was about to do could make things worse. “I’m going to ask you to sit down in the conference room and when you have finished ranting and raving, we will be glad to help you. Until then, neither I nor my assistant have time for you.”
Polly pointed to the conference room and put her hand on Obiwan’s collar. The dog sat beside her, completely alert.
“I will not be spoken to this way,” the woman shrieked, making no move toward the conference room.
“I’m perfectly willing to call for help to escort you off my property,” Polly said. “Or you can settle down. Your choice. Now go. If you’d like coffee, I’m glad to bring some to you.”
When the woman remained standing, Polly chuckled. “I actually insist.” She took the woman’s arm and guided her toward the conference room. “I’m going to shut the door. When you’re ready to be human, come find us.”
She gave the woman a little push into the room and pulled the door shut, then looked at Jeff. “Who did I just insult?” she asked.
He laughed, then took a breath and laughed again, a deep, throaty laugh. “What did you do?”
“I was tired of listening to her. Who is she?”
“From what I understand, she’s Thomas Zeller’s agent.”
“That surprises me. He was so normal. I can’t imagine he would work with someone like her.”
“I doubt that they spent a lot of time together. She’s scary,” Jeff glanced toward the closed door. “But Polly, you are scarier than she is and that’s saying something.”
“I’m so tired of things happening around me without having any control, I snapped. I’m taking Obiwan upstairs. If she comes out before I’m back, don’t let her get away with anything.”
“I’m not sure how I’ll stop her, but I’ll do my best,” he laughed.
Polly said, “Come on, Obiwan. Let’s go. I appreciate you having my back when I get confrontational.” The dog followed her out of the office after giving the conference room door a quick glance. Once they hit the stairway, he trotted up beside her. She unlocked the door and let him in. “I’ll be back lat
er. You guys be good.”
Glancing across the hallway, she saw the police seal on the middle room. She’d have to call Aaron to see how long they were going to keep her out. If she needed to replace things, she wanted to do it as quickly as possible.
Polly walked slowly down the steps thinking about the fragility and resilience of life. Two days after he died, life for the living was still going on. She would remember Thomas, but other things immediately began taking the place of the time she normally spent with him. Other crises would take over her thoughts and other people would fill her days. Life was for the living, but death always hovered at the edge of it.
Jeff was in his office when she got back and the conference door was still closed.
“Nothing?” she asked him.
“Nope. Not a peep.”
“Did you get her name?”
“It was Natalie something. That was all I was able to get from her before she lost control.”
“Okay, I’ll go deal with Natalie something. We’ll see if we can figure this out.”
“Thanks. I’m going to hide in here if you don’t mind.”
Polly smiled at him, “Chicken,” she said and turned back to the conference room. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
Natalie-something was slumped over, her head cradled in her arms and her shoulders shaking. Polly sat down beside her.
“I’m sorry,” Natalie sobbed, “I’m so sorry. All I could think about was that everything was over for me. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Polly rolled her chair over to a counter and picked up a box of tissues, then rolled back to Natalie and set them in front of her. The woman began pulling them out one by one until Polly stopped her by placing a hand on top of her hand.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Natalie began sobbing again.
Polly pulled out her phone and texted Jeff, “Could you bring in a bottle of water and a small plate of those chocolate chip cookies?” She didn’t say a word, just let the woman cry.
Jeff was back quickly and lightly knocked at the door. He handed Polly the plate and the bottle, then rolled his eyes and backed out of the room, shutting the door.
Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines Page 7
