by ACF Bookens
Somehow the feeling of success made us a quieter bunch than usual, and so when our cupcakes had been eaten, everyone began to filter home, much to Sasquatch and Sidecar’s dismay. They had been quite content to share the island of pillows with Taco and Mayhem. Aslan, however, was elated to see everyone go so that she could have her chenille throw on her couch cushion back, and she reclaimed her space with a flurry of pitty-pattying as soon as Lucas vacated her seat. The nerve of some people, her expression said.
Daniel lingered on a bit with Mart, Ariel, and me, but eventually, he yawned and headed out, too, saying he’d see me at noon for the final day of deliveries.
I poured all of us a second glass of wine as we settled into the couch a little deeper, careful not to disturb Aslan’s perfect circle of feline comfort. Then, I decided it was the right time to ask for Ariel’s help. I kind of wished I’d been able to give Mart the heads up, but she’d follow my lead. She was good like that.
I didn’t really know a delicate way to get into this conversation, so when a natural silence rose up, I filled it. “Ariel, I need to ask your help with something.”
“Anything,” she said, “you guys have done so much for me.”
“And you don’t owe us anything,” I said quickly. “This isn’t about you paying us back or anything. You have no debt. None.”
Mart nodded. “That’s right. It was our honor to help. We are friends. No obligations among friends.”
I smiled at my best friend who was, still, picking up more than her financial share of things in this house. “No, this is more about helping Wilma . . . and, well, helping Sheriff Mason.”
“Oh,” she said with interest. “How can I do that?”
“Well, I’m wondering if you might be able to tell us a bit about how transactions are tracked at the bank,” I said tentatively. I wasn’t sure exactly what information would be helpful, but that felt like a good place to start.
Ariel sat up a little straighter. “Oh, is this the sleuthing that Stephen said you are prone to do? Do I get to sleuth, too?” She looked downright excited.
Mart groaned. “Not another one.”
“Well, this time I actually have permission,” I said with my snootiest accent as I stuck out my tongue at my best friend. “Can you help, Ariel?”
“Oh yeah, I can totally help.” She leaned forward. “Every transaction at the bank is tagged with date, time, and employee number. That information is accessible by the managers so that we can clarify any confusion for customers if need be.”
“So then, it should be very easy to determine who transferred the money between the co-op’s accounts,” Mart said. “Why hasn’t Sheriff Mason done that already?”
Ariel furrowed her brow. “Yeah, it’s pretty routine if he has a warrant. If someone at the bank was transferring funds from an account, then there’s a record.”
Now, I was totally baffled. If the sheriff could locate this information so easily, why not wrap up that part of the case quickly? I sat back in my chair and sipped my wine. “Okay, so there’s a reason that the sheriff hasn’t asked for that information then, right?”
Mart shook her head. “I suppose so, but if he could catch the thief, wouldn’t that get him a bit closer to solving the murder?”
Ariel’s head whipped up. “Wait, so this is about more than the co-op’s money?”
I gave Mart a significant stare, and a flush went up her neck. “Oops, were we keeping the possible connection on the down-low?”
I sighed. “That had been the plan.” I turned to Ariel. “No offense, Ariel. The sheriff just didn’t want to jump to conclusions or spread rumors, you know?”
Ariel was staring off into space and didn’t even acknowledge my words. I watched her, and then, she gave her head a little shake. “What were you saying? Oh, right. Yeah, no worries about that. I get it. But here’s the thing, what if the theft and the murder are connected, but the sheriff wants most people to think they aren’t?”
I pursed my lips. “Tell us more.”
“Okay, so if the sheriff gets that transaction information, and if it shows that someone at the bank has been stealing from the co-op, then he has to make an arrest, right?”
Mart and I nodded.
“But what if he doesn’t want to make the arrest just yet because he needs the person at the bank to still be there?”
“Or maybe he doesn’t want to tip someone off about what he’s actually up to?” I added.
“You think he’s doing another bait and switch?” Mart asked.
Ariel looked puzzled, and we caught her up on the ruse with Henri and the murder. “Oh, right. Like that. Right. Keep everyone involved clueless since he needs more time to gather evidence on the murder.”
I had to admit, the woman was good. I thought maybe she was right, but what I couldn’t figure out now was why Tuck would have me talk to Ariel about the bank if he knew this all along. Unless . . . “Tuck is using me as the bait again,” I said almost under my breath.
“Sounds like it,” Mart said, “and he knew you couldn’t lie to save your life, so he thought it best to not tell you the whole story.”
I grumbled quietly but then took a deep breath and realized that he’d been right to not tell me. “Still, he had to know I’d figure out that what he was asking me to research was very fundamental. So why even ask at all?”
Ariel fell back against her seat. “I think I know who is stealing from the co-op.”
I sat forward, distracted from my own question by this new information. “You do?”
“Yeah, well, maybe.” She shook her head, and I saw her set her jaw. “I think I know, but I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure. I can check tomorrow.”
I nodded. I appreciated that she respected people’s privacy and wanted to be certain, but I was dying to know.
“But I still can’t figure out why the sheriff wanted you to talk to me? That just doesn’t make sense. If all it takes is a little searching on the computer . . .”
We sat quietly sipping our wine for a bit, and no matter which way I looked at it, I couldn’t figure out the sheriff’s plan . . . and since I knew he had one and didn’t want to flub up any attempt to capture a murderer, I thought I’d better ask.
“I’m texting him now. We need more information,” I announced.
“We do. If we’re going to be the bait, we need to at least be informed bait,” Mart agreed.
“That’s right. We aren’t earthworms after all,” Ariel said with forcefulness.
“Not minnows either,” Mart added.
“Not even chunks of hot dog,” I chimed in, and the two other women laughed.
“Hot dog?” Mart asked.
“That’s what Dad used to make me fish with since I wouldn’t put a worm on the hook.”
We cracked up from the stress and the silliness and a bit from the wine, too. But the mood got more serious quickly when the sheriff said he’d be right over.
“Oh, this is a big deal. It’s close to ten o’clock,” I said.
“Whew, soon we’ll be up to eleven like young people,” Mart snarked with a wink at Ariel.
“Don’t look at me. I fell asleep about eight most nights when I was in the bank. There’s only so much reading a person can do with a headlamp,” Ariel said.
Her quip reminded me of what Dillard had told me. “Ariel, I know we talked about books before, but I have a question about the attic. You had a lot of books up there?
“Yep. I like to have options for when the mood strikes.” She looked at me sideways. “Why?”
“She’s on to you, Harvey. She knows you never ask an idle question.” Mart winked with exaggeration.
“You’re right. Dillard mentioned it to me, and I thought it was odd that he would know that. Did he know you were living in the attic?”
Ariel shook her head. “Not that I know of. Cynthia knew, of course, but she’d never been up there with me so she wouldn’t have seen the stacks of books I borrowed from the library. She’s not
much of a reader either. We didn’t talk books or anything, so I don’t think I would have mentioned it except maybe in passing.
I tilted my head. “Cynthia could have told Dillard, but why would she have mentioned something like that to him?” I was getting that feeling that I was on the cusp of understanding something when I heard a knock at the door and got up to let the sheriff in.
Sheriff Mason looked ragged and worn down, and while he was polite and friendly, he didn’t exactly look happy to see us. “Ladies,” he said as he sat on the edge of the couch.
“Can I get you something to drink, Tuck?”
“Hot tea?” He smiled.
“You got it,” Mart said as she headed to our electric kettle on the counter.
“You needed to ask me something, Harvey?”
I sighed. “I did. We all did. And I hope the question isn’t rude, but why did you ask me to find out about the banking stuff when you could easily figure that out?”
This time, Tuck sighed, and when he met my eyes, they sparked. “Because I knew you could get to the bottom of the question without me, Harvey, and I needed to not be involved with finding out that information.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Because you need to keep someone thinking that you’re still thinking of the two investigations as separate?
He nodded. “Right. I think I may know what is happening at the bank, and I’m pretty sure I know who killed Wilma. But I need more information about both—“
“But you didn’t want to tip anyone off about how much you did know, so Harvey’s, um, curiosity became an asset,” Mart said as she came back with a cup of chamomile tea and handed it to the sheriff.
Tuck put a finger on his nose. “You got it, Mart. I knew you’d wonder about my motives sooner rather than later, Harvey, especially when you figured out how easy it would be track transactions. Still, I was hoping to buy some time.”
Ariel cleared her throat. “So yeah, it is easy to track transactions, but it’s also kind of easy – especially in a small bank like ours, where transactions aren’t checked by committee like they are at bigger banks – to use someone else’s credentials to do a transaction.”
“Like a name and password kind of thing?” Mart asked.
“Just like that. If someone knew someone else’s name and password . . .”
“They could steal from the co-op and frame someone else for the theft,” I said softly. “I’m sure you thought of that already, too, right?” I looked at the sheriff, but he was staring off into space. “Sheriff?”
He gave his head a little shake and looked back at me. “Sorry, just putting it all together.” He set his mug down on the coffee table with a hard thud.
Ariel leaned forward. “Sheriff, I can get the information on the transactions tomorrow morning if that would help.” She looked at him hopefully. “I can be discreet, and I’d really like to help.”
The sheriff frowned. “I know that I asked Harvey to talk to you, but just to confirm what I suspected about how the systems worked. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you actually gathering information. Besides, none of it would be admissible in court.”
Ariel nodded. “But would it be helpful to just know? Then you could gather more evidence and get your warrant when the time was right?”
The sheriff sat back against the couch, and I picked up his mug and put it in his hand. “What if I went into the bank on the premise of looking at a loan for the store and was there with Ariel when she accessed the information? That way, I can carry the information out, and she doesn’t even have to make a phone call or anything.”
Mart grimaced at me, but she didn’t say anything.
Ariel chuckled. “It’s not like looking up the information is going to look that much different than what I normally do, but if you’d like to be there, Harvey, by all means.”
I felt my face flush. Busted. My nosiness wasn’t so subtle.
“Actually, I like that idea, only because I’d like two pairs of eyes on the information since we won’t be getting print outs or anything at this point.”
“Ha!” I shouted. “See!” I looked at Mart and winked. She just rolled her eyes.
* * *
The next morning, before I went in for my normal eleven a.m. start, I stopped by the bank. I made sure I came with a notebook and my laptop just so I looked official. During breakfast, I even worked up what I might do with a loan if I actually applied for one. It had been fun to figure out what I could use more money for, and I landed on more shelving that would take my shelves to the ceiling, allowing me to store my extra stock on the floor, and then convert the back room to a staff lounge and reading group space down the road. In fact, by the time I was done imagining, I had decided to ask Ariel to actually run the numbers for me. I knew I couldn’t afford to take on a loan this early in our business, and I still needed to get my own salary up so that I could give more to our household expenses. But I wanted some real figures to work with down the road.
I went through the standard process, which Ariel had explained the night before, and approached the teller counters to ask if I could speak to someone about a business loan. Cynthia was there, and when I walked up to her window, she gave me a wide smile. “Hi Harvey. It’s good to see you. What can I do for you?”
I tried to act natural and said, “I’m just here to talk to Ariel about a loan. Is she available?”
Cynthia frowned. “Right.” She looked at me askance for a minute and then said, “I’ll let her know you’re here.”
I wasn’t sure why Cynthia seemed, well, annoyed, but I figured paying too much attention to that might give me away. I ignored the hesitation in her voice and gave a hearty thanks.
Fortunately, Ariel was available, and Cynthia pointed me to her office at the back of the lobby. I could feel her watching me as I walked that way.
Everyone in town knew Ariel was living at my house temporarily, so we didn’t need to pretend to meet. But still, we did need our bit of theater to be believable. We’d worked out the night before that we’d say we talked about the loan casually but that Ariel had asked me to come in so she could put together a formal proposal for me. She didn’t know that I’d actually decided to consider the proposal, but I figured that fact would just make things all the more believable.
Once I was in Ariel’s office, we had a bit of privacy, but the offices didn’t have doors, so we still had to be discreet about our query. I made a point of explaining to Ariel what I was considering for the shop and telling her how much I thought it would cost to have Woody increase our shelving in the store. Then, she gave me information on interest rates and the application process. Finally, she said, “If you’ll look here, you can see the various options for payment plans and how that works out in terms of interest.” She spun her computer so that it faced the wall of her office, making it so that I could see the screen but no one out in the lobby could.
There, I saw a series of transactions, all for the exact amount of Cate’s mortgage payments and each was going into the account of one Renee Forsham. I contained my gasp when I saw the name of Wilma’s sister. Whoa!!
Ariel must have noticed my shock because she said, “Oh yes, that five-year repayment plan does pack a punch in terms of the size of the payments.”
“It does. I was caught off guard.” I gave her a small smile.
“Let me rework those numbers a bit, see if we can’t give you terms that work better for your budget.” She turned the computer back toward herself and typed for a few moments. “Okay, how does this look?”
She turned the computer back toward me, and I peered at the screen. “Oh, well, yes, that’s more what I was expecting.” There on the screen was Cynthia’s name and what I assumed was her employee ID number. I hadn’t memorized the transaction information from the previous screen, but the number of transactions matched.
“Me, too.” Ariel looked stricken. Her friend had been the one stealing. Oh, that had to hurt.
I leaned back in the woo
den chair in front of Ariel’s desk and tried to think of some coded way to offer my sympathy. “Even expecting it, though, it’s hard information to take in. I’ll have to think about it. Is that okay?”
Ariel took a deep breath and pulled herself back to her professional guise. “Of course. Just let me know if you decide you want to move forward.” She stood up and shook my hand, but then I grabbed her in a quick hug, counting on the fact that we were friends to explain this unusual behavior between a loan officer and a potential borrower.
She squeezed me hard and whispered. “I’ll come by a bit later. We can talk then.”
I walked out with a printout of my actual loan offer in my hand. I gave Cynthia a small wave and smile as I walked through the lobby. But as soon as I got out the door, my smile dropped. What exactly did Renee Forsham have to do with all of this?
I texted Mart with an update as I walked quickly over to the store. She sent back her Memoji with a blown mind, and I chuckled as I swung open the door to the shop and walked right into Renee Forsham.
Then, I dropped my phone and almost fell over picking it up. Luckily, my clumsiness bought me a second to pull myself together.
“Oh, hi, Renee. Sorry, shouldn’t text and walk.”
She gave me a forced smile. “Probably wise.” She smoothed off the front of her suit and sighed.
“You’re mighty dressed up for a town where even the fancy French restaurant throws out newspaper for a crab boil once a month.” I smiled with an expression that I hoped seemed casual and warm.
“I was at my sister’s attorney’s office this morning. Finalizing her estate.”
I nodded. “I see. I’m sorry. I expect that was hard.”
She looked at me with a blank expression for just a second before forcing her face into a sorrowful pout. “Yes, very. I mean, I wouldn’t take any money in the world if I could have my sister back.”
I nodded and tried to look sympathetic while also trying not to fidget with my phone and text Tuck immediately. “It’s nice she thought of you, though. I take it she left you something?” I was trying to be casual, and for a second, I thought Renee was on to me because a grimace flashed over her face.
