A Truth for a Truth (32 page)

I began to sort. Bills in one pile, obvious junk mail in another, anything else that looked vaguely official in a third.

“I know I should take care of the bills,” Hildy said.

“I can help if you want.”

“No, you stack them, and I’ll pay after you leave. I do it on the computer. It only takes a few minutes.”

I, of course, do it the old-fashioned way, with stamps and a pen. I am almost sure if I set up bill paying on the Internet, my kerchiefed friend will be singing Polish songs of thanksgiving.

I was nearly at the bottom of the stack, when I found what I was looking for. “Bingo!” I looked up. “May I open this?”

“Be my guest.”

Inside the envelope from the Ohio Department of Insurance was a brief note. Unless Win had proof he was an executor, a legal representative, or a member of the immediate family of the deceased, the information he had asked for was not easily available to him. A phone number and name were included, in case he wanted to discuss the circumstances of his query.

Of course I was disappointed, although I had assumed it was too early to get confirmation that the payoff from a policy in Daisy’s name had been made to the Consolidated Community Church of Emerald Springs. But I had hoped a search was in the works. On the other hand, this was all the proof I needed that Win had indeed been suspicious.

Now I had a phone number. I could call and talk to the man who had signed this letter, explain my situation, and ask what to do next. If he was sympathetic and not hidebound, maybe he would do the search after all. And if he turned up a payment to the church that never made it into our bank account, then I had something concrete that Roussos could follow up on. For once I would not have to put my body on the line. I could stand back and watch the fun from a safe distance.

Well, not fun exactly. Because this really wasn’t one bit fun. Two people had died, and I was about to make sure yet another member of the church went to jail.

“What does it say?” Hildy asked.

I held it out to her. “Win asked them to do a search to see if an insurance policy for a woman named Daisy Dreyfus turned up. I think Win believed it should have been paid to the church after Daisy died.”

“Oh, Daisy. Of course. She was a wonderful woman. I used to visit her, too. The stories she could tell.”

Duh. Of course Hildy had known Daisy. If somebody in town needed visiting, had Hildy been far behind?

“Did she ever mention a bequest to the church in your presence?” I asked.

“She was a dear old thing, and yes, I think she did. But I’m sure she didn’t have money.”

I filled her in on the invention and its aftermath. Hildy’s eyes widened.

“I’m surprised Win didn’t tell you this,” I said.

“That would be like him, of course. He’d want
all
the facts so he could make a huge splash when the time came. No doling it out in little pieces.”

“It’s possible she did leave her insurance to the church. It would have been a simple way to leave money. Clean, no fuss, not even mentioned in the will.”

“And it’s not in the records?”

I debated, but Hildy needed cheering, and she was, after all, used to keeping secrets. It comes with the “job.”

“Not in the records,” I said. “And if this is true, I think I know who might be to blame.”

“Who?”

“Tell me everything you know about Geoff Adler.”

Her jaw dropped a full inch. “Geoff? No!”

Again, I filled her in. On the way over I had done some thinking on how this might have been accomplished. Now I explained how easy it would have been for Geoff to take the insurance check, put it into church accounts for a few days until it cleared, take it out again with an explanation to anyone at the bank, if needed, that the money was going into a brokerage account, then conveniently bury that month’s statement. Who would know so much money had come and gone? Who would care? Who would question a sap who plugged on and on as treasurer, a job nobody ever wanted.

“But that’s not the only reason I’m suspicious,” I finished. “Geoff lied to me about something. He told me he never knew Win and Marie had an affair. Then on the night of your party, he told Marie that Win wanted to meet her in the side yard. That’s why she ended up out there.”

Hildy’s eyes were growing larger. “Geoff did that?”

I nodded.

“Win told me . . .” She licked her lips. “The night of the party, when we fought . . . before he died.”

I ached for her, but I nodded again.

“He told me he only met Marie outside because somebody told him she wanted to see him alone. He was told she’d had too much to drink and was going to cause a scene if he didn’t talk to her.”

“He didn’t say who?”

“He was careful not to. I thought he just didn’t want to get caught in a lie.”

“You never told me that, Hildy.”

“I thought he was covering up his real reason for going outside. I didn’t believe him, so it didn’t seem important. I was sure he’d gone out on his own. After all, I saw them standing just inches apart. I stood there and watched them together.”

I just wished that Win had said Geoff’s name, but Win probably hadn’t wanted to involve Geoff in any way. If I was right, Geoff had informed Marie that Win wanted to meet with her. Then when he was sure she was going to, he had persuaded Win to meet Marie in the side yard. Each one had believed that the other had asked for a meeting. Geoff Adler had made all the arrangements.

Geoff, who may well have murdered Win Dorchester. Geoff, the pharmacist, who knew what an overdose of digoxin could do. Geoff, who wouldn’t even have had to steal the digoxin from Win’s supply. He could simply have checked Win’s record at Emerald Eagle, discovered what medication he was taking . . .

I stopped the wheels from turning. “Did Win get his meds at Emerald Eagle?” I asked.

She was shaking her head, but not in denial. “Yes. I can’t believe this.”

“Okay, none of this is for sure,” I said. “This could all be a construct of my vivid imagination.”

“We were so proud, Win and I, so pleased when we heard that Geoff had pulled Emerald Eagle out of near bankruptcy. Win had such faith in his abilities. And all the time, he might have been using money meant for the church to work his magic.”

I hardly heard her. I was remembering that Geoff was the one who had misled me about Win’s multiple affairs. And his kindness in offering his lake house for the reception? Not kindness, but a calculated effort to be certain he stayed in the loop, as well as a demonstration that his support of Hildy and his love for Win were unchallenged.

“You can’t breathe a word of this,” I said. “You have to promise me. I’m going to call the Ohio Department of Insurance when I get home and see what they’ll do for me. You just have to hang in for a while, Hildy. This may take some time, but we can’t let Geoff know we suspect him. The minute I know the church was the beneficiary of Daisy’s insurance policy, I’m going to turn this whole new thread over to the police. They can do the rest.”

“That could take weeks.”

Sadly, she was right. It might. “You’ll be fine,” I promised. “You can tough this out until we know, right? You’re not going to do anything silly like ask Geoff for a confession?”

“A confession?” She huffed. “Of course not. I only believe the best about people until the worst is right in front of me.”

“Good.” I looked at my watch. “Mind if I take this letter with me? I’ll call this man from home, but I promise I’ll let you know everything I discover. Just hang tight, okay? Pay bills, answer mail. Before long maybe this will all be over.”

Mr. Gleck from our fair state’s department of insurance was a lovely man, he just wasn’t much for taking chances. I explained who I was and what had happened and told him that the church was concerned that fourteen years ago, someone might have embezzled an insurance payout meant for us. The problem was that we had no record of which insurance company might have made the payment, which is where he came in. Mr. Gleck isn’t one to take initiative on his own. He promised he would bring the matter up with a superior and get back to me next week. I pointed out that the publicity would be fabulous for his department if they helped catch the bad guy, but even that wasn’t enough of a lure.

Not everybody is as dedicated to fighting crime as those of us in the trenches.

I wasn’t sure how much to tell Ed. He has this teensyweensy problem. Whenever I get close to solving a murder, he worries about me. I knew that even if I assured him I was not going to go near Geoff Adler or do anything to make him suspicious, Ed would still worry. In fact he would worry so much he would begin following me around, calling me to see what I was doing at any given moment, suggest a visit to Indiana where my father’s buddies and good old Ray Sloan himself would be sure I stayed safe. I might never be able to leave Indiana again, but at least Ed wouldn’t have to worry about my well-being.

I decided not to mention Geoff’s name. After all, I had no real proof I was right. Not yet, anyway. Instead, as we cleared off the dining room table after dinner, Moonpie weaving in and out of our feet to make it twice as hard, I explained that I was looking into possible insurance fraud as a motive for Win’s murder, but until I got some help from the Department of Insurance in Columbus, I was stuck. By the time we had moved everything into our disheveled kitchen, I had asked him not to mention anything to anybody at this point, until I knew more.

“You don’t want anybody on the board thinking the church is about to get some kind of windfall,” I said, squirting detergent in the sink, since our dishwasher was still unhooked. “Imagine the trouble that could cause.”

He handed me the platter that had held his signature penne primavera. This had been Ed’s night to cook, a feat he had accomplished in our church kitchen, where he was less likely to stick to the floor. So what if the food hadn’t been hot by the time he transported it home?

“If what you think is true, we’d probably never see a dime,” he said. “Fourteen years is a long time, and you can be sure the insurance company will point its finger at the church and our lax accounting standards.”

“That would be so unfair to Daisy.”

“She’ll have to get in line behind Win and Ellen Hardiger.”

I winced, because how true was that?

This time he handed me the salad bowl. “So you’re done snooping for a while?”

“The minute I know somebody made off with a payout meant for Tri-C, I’ll go directly to Roussos. Until then, I’ve done my bit. We’ll let Roussos catch a murderer for a change.”

“You mean it?”

I stood on tiptoes and kissed him. “Worrywart.”

“As if I have no reason.”

“There’s no point in coming up with new lines of investigation. Not when this one’s so promising.”

“Why do I think there’s more you aren’t telling me, like who you suspect?”

“Because you’re a brilliant man who’s been married to me long enough to father a couple of kids and drag me around the country to three different churches.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“I don’t want you acting differently if you run into said suspect. And if I’m wrong, I don’t want you laughing at me.”

“And what if
you
run into said suspect?”

“I plan to stay a million miles away.”

I remembered those words when I got Hildy’s phone call. It was seven thirty, and nobody was home but me. In keeping with his new resolution to spend more time with Deena—even if she pretended in public that she didn’t know him—Ed invited her to a father-daughter softball match at the rec center. Neither of them is that crazy about softball, but they went anyway, and Teddy went with them to cheer them on. Figuring this would not be father-daughter time if I tagged along, I decided to stay home and take a nice hot bath.

Never let those words streak through your head. The nice-hot-bath monsters will make certain it never comes to pass.