by Tracy Kiely
Ignoring—or not seeing—my warning expression, Aunt Winnie continued, “I most certainly do not. I have found out additional information about Richard that I think you—and the police—need to know. There are other reasons—reasons other than that damn paper of his—that might be behind his death.”
“Such as?” Izzy asked.
I tried once more to stop Aunt Winnie with a pleading look, but to no avail. “I am referring to his affair with Lindsay—the soon-to-be mother of his child,” she said.
Izzy’s face was a portrait of shock. She slumped against the back of her chair, her breath coming out in a long, thin hiss. “His child?” she whispered, her eyes wide.
Cora’s reaction was no less dramatic. “What?” she cried out, her voice shrill and indignant, and immediately gaining the attention of the bar’s few other patrons. Seeing their startled reactions, she lowered her voice and said, “Are you serious? Lindsay is pregnant with Richard’s child? But how did you find this out?”
“She told us,” I said.
“Well, actually, she told Elizabeth after Elizabeth confronted her with it,” Aunt Winnie added proudly. “Elizabeth saw a bottle of prenatal vitamins in her bathroom and guessed the truth.”
Izzy continued to stare wordlessly at me. Cora shook her head in disgust. “That poor girl. Now what is she going to do? Is she going to tell the family?”
“I think she is,” I said. “I got the impression that she was banking on getting money from the estate so she could support the baby.”
“Poor Alex!” Cora said with real sympathy. “Say what you like about the woman, but to lose her husband like this and then have to find out that he was having an affair! It’s horrible.”
“I have to tell you, I think the one who is going to be the most upset is Valerie,” I said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she hasn’t calculated Richard’s net worth down to the last penny. Another heir set to queue up in line for their fair slice of the pie is the last thing Valerie will want to hear about.”
Izzy scoffed in agreement. “That’s for sure. I can only imagine the look on her face when she hears of it.” Izzy paused in apparent contemplation of the anticipated expression. “On the other hand, now that I think of it, it might be hard to discern the difference given her usual peevish expression.”
Cora frowned. “Izzy! That’s not nice!”
Izzy rolled her eyes in response. “No, Mama, it’s not. But then neither is Valerie.”
“Does anyone want a drink?” I offered quickly, seeing Cora’s expression darken with annoyance. “My treat.”
The diversion worked, and I made my way over to the bar. I had just placed the orders when I noticed Gail and Ian enter. Although they passed close by, they didn’t notice me. Gail was apparently in the middle of a conversation with Ian, as I heard her say, “But you couldn’t have been!”
Ian responded curtly, saying, “Mother, please. I told you to drop it. It doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Then spotting Izzy and Cora, he muttered, “Oh, dear God.”
Gail followed his gaze and added her own expression of dismay. “Christ, this is going to be awkward.” Pasting a polite smile on her face, Gail moved toward the table, Ian following slowly in her wake. I lingered at the bar until they arrived at the table before bringing the drinks over.
“Hello, Gail. Hello, Ian,” I said as I approached the table and dispensed the drinks. “The service tonight was lovely.”
Ian responded with a wan smile. “Thanks, Elizabeth. It was all Valerie’s doing, really.”
“Is she with you?” I asked, glancing around.
Ian nodded. “Yes, but I think she had to make a phone call,” he said vaguely, his eyes straying to Cora and Izzy.
Silence followed. It was terribly awkward, and I wondered again why Izzy had wanted to come. I glanced at her now. She sat with a properly mournful expression on her face that didn’t fool me for one minute. Cora quickly jumped up and moved around the table to give Gail a hug. “I’m so sorry about all of this, Gail,” she said, as she awkwardly wrapped her arms around Gail. “I hope you know that I didn’t have anything to do with any of it.”
While Gail gave Cora a reassuring pat on the back, I noticed that her face was still guarded. “Don’t worry, dear,” she nevertheless said. “I know that it will all be straightened out soon.”
Cora stepped back and, unfortunately, directly into me, spilling my glass of wine down the front of my dress.
“Oh, Elizabeth!” Cora cried in dismay. “I’m such a klutz! I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, Cora,” I said as I grabbed one of the cocktail napkins from the table and began dabbing at the large wet stain. The napkin immediately reverted to pulp and stuck to my dress in small white clumps. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” I said, “I’m just going to go to the ladies’ room.”
I made my way across the bar area into a small lavatory. As I pushed open the door, I heard a voice coming from one of the stalls. “That’s right,” it said. “That’s perfect. Now, do you know what I’m going to do?”
I paused in confusion. While I recognized the voice as Valerie’s, it was as if she was trying to disguise it. The result was a low-pitched, halting, breathy sound. It was not unlike listening to Marilyn Monroe—if she was having an asthma attack, that is.
Hearing me, Valerie suddenly whispered, “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back.”
I grabbed a handful of paper towels and attempted to dry my dress, while Valerie remained in the stall. After a few minutes, it became clear that Valerie had no intention of exiting the stall while I was there; either that, or she was in the clutches of some sort of gastrointestinal distress. In either case, I had no desire to hang about—although perhaps more so, if it was for the latter reason—and so I returned to the table after securing a replacement drink at the bar. Not surprisingly, the conversation was on the apparent plan to present Richard’s paper.
“Honestly, I don’t see why it matters so much,” Gail was saying to Ian, as I slid into my chair. “Yes, I suppose that it will get a large turnout, although I imagine mostly from ghoulish souls who will want to see if there is to be more drama. But what’s the point? It’s not as if you can sell tickets to the reading.”
At this, Ian shifted awkwardly in his seat and focused on tracing the embossed crest on his beer stein with his forefinger. “Well, it’s funny you should say that,” he began, “but Valerie actually was able to arrange something with the organizers—”
Gail cut him off. Leaning forward with an abruptness usually associated with a prodding from a hot poker, she said in the steely I-am-displeased voice employed by all mothers, “Are you kidding me? You are going to actually charge people money to hear that paper? Money that will no doubt end up lining Alex’s silk pockets? What on earth are you thinking?”
Ian’s face flushed and his shoulders hunched up toward his ears, and I had a sudden image of him as a little boy, squirming in embarrassment after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Ian opened his mouth to defend himself, but it was Valerie, who had finally arrived, who responded in a cool voice, “Gail, don’t be silly. The proceeds from the event will be split between us and Alex. Trust me, I wouldn’t have bothered to set it up if it was only going to benefit Alex.”
Ian said nothing and instead watched his mother, trying to gauge her reaction to this news. Gail rhythmically tapped her middle finger on the table in a manner both contemplative and irritated. Valerie watched her, unconcerned. “How much are you charging?” Gail finally asked.
“Twenty pounds,” Valerie answered.
“Twenty pounds!” Gail replied, shocked. “But that’s absurd! No one in their right mind is going to shell out that kind of money to hear Jane Austen’s life reduced to smutty innuendo.”
Valerie produced a catlike smile. “They already have fifty people signed up.” She practically purred with satisfaction.
“They do?” replied Gail. “But how? Alex only gave the go-ah
ead on the paper not thirty minutes ago.”
Valerie’s self-satisfied smile only increased. I half expected her to start grooming herself with the back of her hand. “I spoke with the organizers earlier today and told them I was pretty sure that I could convince Alex to present the paper as planned. They realized, as did I, that there might be increased interest in the paper now. Of course, I have also arranged to have copies of the latest issue of Austen Forever on sale in the back.”
Ian stared at Valerie. From the way his lips pressed together and the muscles along his jawline bunched, I suspected that he found her casual avarice as reprehensible as I did. But then again, what did I know? After all, he’d married her. Maybe he had a thing for cold-blooded, grasping women. Maybe she made him feel alive, much in the same way that a corpse did for regular folks.
Gail’s reaction to Valerie was easier to read. She disliked the idea of promoting Richard’s paper, even if indirectly. However, she was not so disinterested that she was going to walk away from a chance to make some money. “I see,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “Well, I will leave that to you, then. I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to attend the presentation.”
Valerie gave a curt nod. “I agree. Ian and I will be happy to man the table, as it were. Won’t we, Ian?” She looked to Ian for confirmation and then seemed to notice Izzy’s and Cora’s presence. I wondered if Valerie had some kind of undiagnosed affliction that affected her vision. She certainly seemed to notice things and people only when they were shoved right in front of her face.
Her mouth twisted in displeasure. “Cora, Izzy,” Valerie said. “What a surprise. I certainly didn’t expect to see you here. But then, now that I stop to think about it, I don’t know why I would be surprised. You two seem to always be here. I wonder why that is?”
Cora flushed at Valerie’s words, but Izzy did not. Instead, she regarded Valerie with an expression of such lofty condescension that even Lady Catherine would have been impressed.
“My mother and I joined our friends for a drink,” Izzy said. “I really don’t understand what aspect of that is confusing for you, Valerie.”
Valerie pulled her thin shoulders back and regarded Izzy with an icy stare. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said in a glacial voice to match the stare. “Perhaps I thought that a woman with any breeding might realize that, given the rather damning circumstances surrounding my father-in-law’s death, it might be prudent for you and your mother to remain at your own hotel.”
A coy smile spread over Izzy’s face. “Perhaps you haven’t had the advantage of moving in society enough,” she said, her tone faintly sympathetic. “There are many very accomplished young ladies among our acquaintance who would see no problem with an innocent woman visiting a friend at her hotel.”
Valerie’s eyes narrowed to angry slits, and her skin turned a mottled red. “You know what you are, Izzy Beadle? You’re nothing but a man-crazy b—”
Ian jumped out of his chair just in time to stop Valerie from completing her thought, which was a wise move. In a fight between Valerie and Izzy, my money would be on Izzy. As Ian hustled Valerie out of the bar, Gail turned to Izzy. “You have an extraordinary ability to discompose my daughter-in-law, Miss Beadle,” she said.
Without missing a beat, Izzy shot back, “And she has an extraordinary ability to piss me off, ma’am, for which I find it hard to forgive.”
Gail’s expression did not change, but I could have sworn that I saw the faintest sparkle of laughter in her eyes.
“Gail, I’m sorry,” sputtered Cora, shooting Izzy a quelling look. “Izzy didn’t mean to be rude. She’s just trying to defend me.”
Gail only nodded, then rose from her chair. “Her loyalty does her credit,” she said. “Well, ladies, it’s been a long day. I’m going to head up to my room. I’m sure I will see you all again later.” With a polite nod, she turned and left the bar.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Cora rounded on Izzy. “What is your problem? Why do you feel compelled to attack Valerie at every turn?”
Izzy glared at Cora. “Are you kidding me? I was defending you! She practically accused you of murder, and here you are defending her!”
“I am not defending her,” Cora said. “But please don’t use her suspicions about me as an excuse for your nastiness to her. You have never liked her and have never bothered to disguise that fact. Richard’s murder and the police’s suspicion about me have nothing to do with that animosity.” Izzy opened her mouth to defend herself, but Cora cut her off. “Gail is my friend. And as such, I will not let you bad-mouth her daughter-in-law in public or in private.”
Izzy’s mouth twisted into an angry pucker. Folding her arms across her chest, she exhaled a heavy, dramatic sigh and muttered, “Yes, we wouldn’t want to upset Valerie, now would we?”
Cora glared at her. “No, as a matter of fact, we wouldn’t.”
“Why?” demanded Izzy. “Would you please tell me why in the name of God you feel it necessary to try and placate a woman as worthless as Valerie Baines?”
Cora held her ground for all of three seconds before her shoulders collapsed. With a heavy sigh, she said, “Because she knows about the money.”
CHAPTER 21
Everything is to be got with money.
—MANSFIELD PARK
“MONEY? WHAT MONEY?” demanded Izzy.
Cora stared at the floor, unable to meet Izzy’s gaze. “The money from the Jane Austen Society. I was in charge of it. I don’t know what happened to it exactly, but about three thousand dollars of it went missing.”
Izzy stared at her mother, dumbfounded. “Are you telling me that you embezzled money from the society?”
“Of course I didn’t embezzle it!” Cora shot back indignantly. “I just don’t know—precisely—what happened to it.”
“Wait. You just lost three thousand dollars? How did that happen?” Izzy asked. “Dear God, I know you can be absentminded at times, but how does a person lose three thousand dollars?” Aunt Winnie and I were curious to hear her answer as well.
Cora sighed. “I don’t know how it happened. For last year’s festival, Gail asked me to participate in a giveaway. All Jane Austen members were eligible to participate, even if they weren’t able to attend the festival. They bought an advance ticket and then were entered into a drawing for various prizes. The proceeds went to both the magazine and the societies that participated. Somehow, though, a large portion of my money went missing.”
Izzy leaned forward. “What do you mean, it went missing? How?”
Cora looked up, her expression both embarrassed and baffled. “That’s just it. I don’t understand how it went missing. I had the check with all the tickets and papers and then … it was gone.”
“So someone stole it, then?” asked Aunt Winnie.
Cora shook her head. “No. I delivered all the paperwork myself. Valerie called me soon after to ask where the check was. That’s when I realized that I must have lost it. I felt terrible and, of course, offered to replace the money. Valerie was understandably upset, but she was fair about it. Of course, I didn’t have three thousand dollars that I could just hand over, so I paid back what I could. For the remaining balance, Valerie deducted it from the money I got for my monthly articles to Forever Austen. As a favor to me, Valerie said that she wouldn’t mention it to Gail.”
Izzy leaned back in her chair and regarded Cora with a look of utter astonishment. “So you’re telling me that you’ve been writing articles for Forever Austen—for free—for this past year, and have been kowtowing to Valerie as well, because you lost the check?”
Cora nodded. “I know you don’t like Valerie, but really, she could have made it very difficult for me. I might have lost my position in the Jane Austen Society.”
“Tell me, Cora,” asked Aunt Winnie, “did anyone ever cash the check?”
Cora lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. “I don’t know. Probably. It was a cashier’s check.”
No one spoke. I glanced at Aunt Winnie. She gave a minuscule shake of her head. Izzy let out a heavy sigh. Cora resumed her study of the carpet. “You all must think me an idiot,” she said after a moment.
“Oh, I think you’re an idiot, all right,” replied Izzy, getting to her feet, “but not for the reasons you think. I’ll bet you dollars to doughnuts that Valerie took that check herself and convinced you that you’d lost it. You really are Uncle Billy, and she’s Mr. Potter! I can’t believe you allowed yourself to be conned like this!”
Cora gaped at Izzy in astonishment. “Izzy! You can’t be serious! Why on earth would Valerie steal that check? It doesn’t make any sense!”
Izzy shut her eyes in frustration. “Of course it does, Mama. This is Valerie we’re talking about. She’s a money-grubbing bottom-feeder with the morals of one of Wickham’s baser cousins. She played you, clear and simple. Dear God, I thought I hated her before—but now I really want to strangle her!”
“Izzy!” cried Cora, getting to her feet as well. “I’ll not have you speak that way—”
“I think she might have a point, Cora,” interrupted Aunt Winnie. “I hate to say it, but the story does sound like a con of sorts.”
Cora turned to Aunt Winnie, her face now displaying fresh embarrassment. “You really think she lied to me about the check? But why?”
“Who knows?” said Aunt Winnie. “But the whole thing sounds a bit suspicious, especially the part about her not telling Gail. Do you really believe that Gail would have tried to discredit you to the society? Does that sound like her? I thought you two were friends.”
Cora stared at Aunt Winnie in silence for several seconds. “Oh, I’ve been quite the old fool, haven’t I?” she said. Tears welled up in her eyes. “At least Harold wasn’t here to see this. He used to get so mad at me at times. ‘How can you be so naïve?’ he’d yell. Well, he’d certainly have reason to yell this time.”
Izzy moved to Cora and pulled her into her arms. Holding her now weeping mother close, she murmured, “Now, Mama. Don’t be silly. Daddy loved you, in spite of your naïveté. Actually, I think that might be part of your charm. It’s Valerie who should feel ashamed, not you. Oh, I’m going to have quite a little chat with her. I think I’m rather going to enjoy it, actually.”
