War and Peas (12 page)

“Did anyone else hear this?" Shelley asked.

“I have no idea. The door was open and Derek was talking loudly. I suppose if anyone was in the hallway, they could have heard."

“I think — we had better take Sharlene out to lunch and find out what this is all about."

“But carefully. Derek might have just made it all up to shock Jumper. We don't want to help him spread a rumor.”

Shelley set up lunch with Sharlene while Jane went back to work, and they all met at the front door of the museum a little after noon.

“This is so nice of you two," Sharlene said. "Not at all. You deserve a treat," Shelley said. "This has been a tough week.”

Shelley had made reservations at a very nice Italian restaurant a few blocks away that was run by a friend of her husband's, so they were ushered to the best table as if they were royalty. Sharlene wanted to know what everything on the menu meant, and the young waiter, who was goggle-eyed at her lush, if somewhat unusual, beauty, was more than happy to oblige her. They finally settled on their orders and Sharlene asked them how they were coming along on the database project.

Surprisingly, for all the revelations of the morning, Jane had managed to get a lot of information entered and reported her progress. "But do you have any idea how many thousands of individual 'things' the museum has?" Jane asked. "If it's just Shelley and me, it'll take us months and months to even start making a dent.”

Sharlene nodded. "Next week we'll have lots more help. When school starts, more volunteers will come on. At least they've said they will.”

They fell into a discussion of volunteer work in general and the difficulties institutions were having now that so many women, even those with young children, were joining the work force. Shelley fidgeted, anxious to get to the object of this luncheon. Sharlene finally gave her an opening.

“. . and in the summer, a lot of teachers help us out. And often take on a year-round role when they retire."

“Babs McDonald was a teacher, wasn't she?" Shelley asked.

“Yes, a college history professor," Sharlene said. "She even wrote a couple of textbooks. But I don't think she ever considered teaching as a full-time job. She didn't have to. She comes from a lot of money, I hear, and the research and writing were her main interests. At least that's the impression I've always had."

“She's a remarkable woman," Jane said. "Is she married?" Shelley asked.

“No. Widowed. A long, long time ago. It's a tragic story."

“Oh?" Jane said encouragingly.

The waiter brought their salads and Jane was afraid the food might steer the conversation away from Babs, but after tasting and raving about the salad, Sharlene returned to the subject without any prodding. "She was married during World War Two. A whirlwind courtship, I imagine, with her young man going off to war. Anyway, they were married only three days or sowhen he left. And he was gone for a whole year. When he came home on leave for a couple days, some friends of theirs threw a big party for them. Sort of a delayed wedding shower, I think. And on the way home their car went off the road and her husband was killed. Babs was pretty badly hurt, too."

“How horrible!" Jane said, thinking this didn't at all match Derek's version. "Was that her only marriage?" Maybe it was another husband he'd referred to.

“Oh, yes. She must have loved him so much she could never love another man," Sharlene said, her enormous blue eyes misting romantically.

They ate in respectful silence for a few minutes before Shelley asked, "How do you know about this? Did Babs tell you herself?"

“Oh, no! I'd never ask her about anything so personal and painful. She never mentions her husband. No, I found an article about it when I was cataloging some of our old newspapers a couple years ago. I made a copy of it, just because it had to do with someone associated with the museum, but I never said anything to her about it.”

Their lunch arrived with a flourish. Lasagna for Shelley, eggplant parmigiana for Jane, and fettuccine Alfredo for Sharlene. They concentrated on eating for a while, until Shelley said with elaborate casualness, "I wonder if anyone else at the museum knows."

“Knows what?" Sharlene asked, nibbling on a piece of garlic bread.

“About Babs's marriage.”

Sharlene considered. "Miss Daisy knew — she was friends with Babs since they were girls — and so I imagine Ms. Palmer knew. She was close to both of them. And probably Tom, just because he knows everything."

“What about the others?" Jane asked. "Like Derek Delano?"

“Oh, I don't think so. How would he? Babs was never very friendly toward him. She surely wouldn't have talked about it to him. And I don't think anybody else would."

“And Georgia?"

“Oh. I see. Yes, Georgia would know, I guess. She was Miss Daisy's niece and would have heard.”

So that was how Derek had learned the information, Jane thought. But why did his version have Babs "murdering" her husband when it was simply a car wreck?

“Why are you asking about all this?" Sharlene was suddenly wary.

“No reason," Shelley replied. "It's just such a moving story. ." She paused, took in Sharlene's skeptical look, and glanced at Jane, who nodded. "That's not true," Shelley said. "Jane overheard an argument between Jumper — Tom, rather — and Derek this morning. Derek made a nasty crack about Babs and said she murdered her husband.”

Sharlene was horrified. "No! What a terrible, terrible thing to say!"

“He was very angry," Jane explained. "Jumper had told him that he wouldn't supporthis appointment as permanent director, and Derek was just flinging insults left and right.”

Sharlene's pretty face was flushed. "That makes me so mad!"

“I'm sorry we upset you," Jane said. "But you obviously didn't believe why we were asking questions. Still, look at it this way — Derek has probably ruined any chance he might have had of staying on at the Snellen. It was an ugly thing to say, but it almost certainly means he's not going to be your boss for much longer.”

The redness in Sharlene's face faded somewhat and she smiled. "Thank you, Jane. For telling me the truth and for making me feel better. I'm sure Tom won't let him be director. Tom thinks the world of Babs. I guess nasty things sometimes happen for good reasons, don't they?"

“Sometimes," Jane agreed. Then she said to Shelley, "Are you going to let the rest of the cats out of the bag?"

“Georgia, you mean?"

“What about Georgia?" Sharlene asked.

“Derek said something about Georgia, too," Jane told her. "About how she cheated on the fund-raising money and kept some of it herself. Do you suppose that's true?”

Sharlene looked down at her lunch for a long minute, then sighed. "I shouldn't talk about this, but I think everybody already knows. Including the police. Yes, Georgia often seems to turn in less money than is actually raised. I take minutes, you know, for the board meetings, and I've heard the rest of them question her about her figures. And I've taken enough accounting courses myself to see that she's probably skimming."

“The whole board knows this?"

“Knows? I'd say suspects strongly. Georgia's not stupid, you understand. Caspar is, but Georgia isn't."

“And they let her stay on the board?" Shelley was shocked to the core.

Sharlene nodded. "For a couple reasons. For one thing, she doesn't seem to keep much. Not enough for the risk she's taking. It seems to be a game or something. Just to feel that she's putting something over on them, maybe. I don't know."

“It would probably cost them more to prosecute her than she's taken, then?" Shelley asked.

“I imagine so. And until Miss Daisy died, nobody wanted to embarrass her by throwing Georgia off the board. Miss Daisy knew Caspar and Georgia were both crooks and all, but that would have made it public."

“Still—" Shelley said.

“The thing is, Georgia is good at fund-raising," Sharlene explained. "Very, very good. She knows lots of people with lots of money to give away. Before Miss Daisy's bequest, the museum might have gone broke without Georgia. Miss Daisy wouldn't have let it really happen, of course, but she'd have been awfully disappointed in all of us. So the board is grateful to Georgia, see?"

“But they have plenty of money now," Jane said.

“Yes. That's true." Sharlene thought for a long minute, then said, hesitantly, "I guess you might as well know — there was supposed to be a regular board meeting the week after the Pea Festival closed. I typed up the agenda. One of the items Ms. Palmer had on it was 'Replacement of board member.' I didn't ask, of course, but I assumed that meant Georgia. Of course, Ms. Palmer died, and now all the normal business is sort of on hold and they're only having emergency meetings to cope with it."

“This agenda you typed up," Shelley said. "Had everyone on the board seen it?"

“Oh, yes. The bylaws require that I send it to everyone a week before the meeting."

“So Georgia must have also suspected that Regina wanted her out?" Jane said.

“Yes, I imagine—" Sharlene stopped and her eyes got very wide. "You don't think Georgia shot Ms. Palmer—?"

“Sharlene, somebody did," Shelley said.

Fourteen
·”

Nobody Nobody would kill to
keep
a position on a volunteer board," Jane said.

They'd returned to the museum, and Jane and Shelley were alone in the boardroom again. Sharlene had thanked them effusively for the lunch and gone back to work in Regina's office.

“In fact, I would think there would be a fair percentage of the population that would do anything up to and including murder to get
off,"
Jane continued.

“But not if it was because of embezzlement," Shelley argued. "Off the board and into jail isn't a very good option."

“But if the rest of the board had accepted Georgia's doctored version of her fund-raising all these years, wouldn't they have just held the threat over her head to force her to resign? Making a big deal of it would make the museum look incompetent."

“Probably, but could she count on that? Maybe not," Shelley said. "Suppose Regina had evidence that she'd stepped up her cheating and had really taken them to the cleaners on something? Or what if Regina had already privately warned her that she should resign and Georgia had indicated she wasn't going to and Regina had vowed to Reveal All?"

“Still — killing her wouldn't solve Georgia's problem, just delay the revelation. Surely if Regina knew about some grand-scale cheating, the accountant on the board knew about it too."

“The accountant's in Alaska, remember. Regina might have been the only one who knew, and told Georgia she was going to give her findings to the accountant when he returned."

“Why wouldn't Regina call and tell him right away, before having a showdown with Georgia?”

Shelley shrugged. "Maybe she couldn't reach him. Or maybe she knew he wouldn't have had his books with him on vacation. Why would he? I don't think this museum is his primary business. It's probably just a volunteer, pro bono kind of thing he does on the side."

“Hmm. That might explain Regina's office being searched, wouldn't it?"

“Yes, it could have been Georgia trying to find whatever evidence Regina had."

“But then what about the basement? Why would Regina think, with the whole museum in which to hide something — presuming Regina had the
need
to hide it — that anybody would choose the basement? Surely there's a safe somewhere. Or if Regina had been concerned about a single copy of something being stolen, wouldn’t she have made a copy or two and spread them around?"

“I don't know," Shelley said. "Maybe Georgia just lost her head and tried to think of where she herself would have hidden something.”

Jane shook her head. "I don't know that I'd believe that. I think Georgia — or whoever it was — had good reason to believe something she wanted was down there."

“Perhaps," Shelley said.

“I can't quite picture Georgia as a murderer for some reason. She's obnoxious and, it seems, a petty thief—"

“Maybe not so petty," Shelley said. "If Regina had been driven to get rid of her after all these years of graciously overlooking her pilfering, there might have been a lot of money involved. And keep in mind that Regina was killed during the Pea Festival. A big money-raising opportunity for the museum. Couldn't it be that Regina had already seen evidence of Georgia's thievery?"

“Like what?"

“I don't know!" Shelley said, becoming a bit defensive. "Maybe people pay to rent those booths and Regina found out from one of them that they'd paid Georgia a whole lot more than they're supposed to?”

Jane nodded. "I guess that could be. You know what I'm really having trouble with? The idea of the board allowing her to get away with stealing. I can't imagine Jumper or Babs letting it go, and I've never known an accountant who could ignore something wrong with the books.

Getting the information out of Sharlene wasn't all that easy, so I don't think she's lying, but couldn't she be mistaken?”

Shelley stuck her purse in the drawer next to where Jane was working and started assembling her papers. "Could be. It might be a matter of interpretation. It's possible they suspected her, but couldn't find any evidence at all. You know, I was thinking about Sharlene's interpretational abilities when she was telling about Babs's husband."

“What do you mean?"

“Well, she said she got her facts from a newspaper article. But newspapers, even then, didn't gush about whirlwind romances and great loves of people's lives. Not even folksy local papers, I'd guess. I think she was putting a lot of her own romantic spin on the story."

“Wonder if she kept the article," Jane said. "She said she made a copy. But whatever it says, I'd bet you're right and she read a lot into it."