Death at a Premium (14 page)

They were gone before Josie had time to ask another question.

“I don’t think you have to worry about the two of them, dear. She really is old enough to be his mother,” Carol pointed out.

“I . . . that’s not it, actually.” Josie decided to change the subject. “Do you know if Mrs. Higgins made a list of the fixtures she wants us to install?”

Carol frowned. “She was online going through Website after Website, but I don’t know that she actually made any decisions.”

“Funny, that’s what she said she was going to do.” Josie glanced over at her workers. Lunch finished, they were lounging around, chatting, and of course, listening to her conversation. “I have to get back to work, but why don’t we go upstairs and look at the room where the body was found again? I could use your opinion about something.”

Carol took the hint. “Not to sound ghoulish, but I’d love to see it again.”

“We’ll get the mirrors off the wall in the butler’s pantry,” Nic said, standing up and stretching.

“Great. This shouldn’t take long. Once we’re done there I think we should get to those bathrooms at the back of the house,” Josie answered, following Carol up the dusty stairway.

“You thought we needed to be alone for a moment,” Carol whispered loudly as she arrived on the second floor landing.

“Yes. Did Tilly do anything other than look at fixtures?”

“Not while I was there, but when I arrived at your office, she wasn’t at the computer; she was standing in the back of the room.”

“Where the file cabinets are?”

“Exactly!”

“There were some manufacturer’s catalogues on top of them.”

“But she was looking in a drawer. She closed it as soon as she heard me come in, but I would swear she was going through your files.”

“Do you know which drawer?” Josie asked.

“The top one. I’m sure of that. And she didn’t want me to know that she was going through it. She slid it shut when she heard me and made some sort of comment about finding it open.”

Josie pursed her lips and thought about what Carol was saying. “Did you say anything?”

“Well, I couldn’t tell her that I was really there because you wanted me to keep an eye on her, could I? I just introduced myself and asked if she knew where you kept information on sinks and whirlpools. She passed over a few catalogues from the top of the file cabinet. I asked if she had finished with them, and she said that she had, and was going to go check out the Kohler Website. She sat down at your desk and I assume she was doing just that.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you know what she was doing?”

“Not all the time. The only chair other than your desk chair was on the other side of your desk. I sat down in it because anything else would have seemed odd, but then I realized that there was no way I could tell what she was looking at.”

“You’re saying you’re not sure what Websites she was looking at.”

“Yes, so I don’t know if she was doing what she had told you she was there to do or not.”

“But that’s not a problem. I can look at the recent history on my browser and see what Websites were visited today,” Josie told her.

“Really? How smart of you to set it up to do that!” Carol beamed at her.

Josie knew this woman would think any woman her son had chosen to marry was the smartest woman in the world, and she hated to disabuse her of this particular falsehood, but she had to explain. “I didn’t do anything. It came like that. I think all browsers come like that,” she said. “Did you talk to her at all?” Josie asked, knowing the answer. Carol talked to everyone she met, always, period.

“Yes—you know how it is. We chatted about this and that as we looked. She is so excited about this house. Did you know that her husband was buying it for her? I got the impression that he was less enthusiastic about the entire project. You know the young man designing this job is her grandson, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And he went to the same prep school as the grandson of one of my best friends!”

If this fact surprised Carol, it didn’t strike Josie the same way. Carol’s neighborhood in New York City had always seemed like a small village to her. Everyone appeared to know everyone else at least by reputation if not in actuality. They went to the same schools, shopped in the same stores, ate at the same restaurants, and vacationed at the same resorts. “Christopher seems to be a very nice young man. And so far I haven’t discovered any major problems with his plans. Of course, the original structure is sound, so most of his changes are cosmetic.”

“Tilly says he’s a darling boy, and she’s thrilled to be moving into a house he’s working on. You know, dear, with the Higginses’ connections, this project could end up getting some excellent publicity. You might end up in
The New York Times
—or even
Architectural Digest
!”

“I suppose that would be nice,” Josie said unenthusiastically.

“Of course, it is a little late in your career, isn’t it? I mean, think what that sort of publicity would have meant to you back when you were struggling to keep Island Contracting in business. Now, of course, things are different—and they’re going to be even more different, aren’t they?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know how important your work is to you, but it won’t be so necessary after you and Sammy tie the knot, will it?”

“You mean I won’t have to worry about supporting myself and Tyler.”

“You won’t have to struggle—that’s what I’m trying to say. I know how hard you’ve worked for so many years without anyone’s support. Now you’ll have a bigger family, and . . .”

“And Sam’s money,” Josie said.

“Well, I don’t mean to sound crass.”

Josie, who had been about to get angry, suddenly realized it was an inappropriate response. Carol thought she was being helpful. “I’ve had to work hard and there were times when I didn’t know how I was going to pay my bills, or give Tyler what he wanted and needed, but I did have support. Risa has let us live in her home and provided us with thousands of meals without making the profit she deserved. A lot of the Realtors on the island have directed their clients to Island Contracting. When things were tough, the hardware store carried Island Contracting on their books without charging any interest. And, of course, my life—and Tyler’s—would be completely different if Noel hadn’t left me his business and left Tyler the money to go away to boarding school. It’s been difficult, but there are a whole lot of people on this island that I owe a lot to.”

“Of course, that’s one of the reasons your wedding will be so important,” Carol said.

“I don’t understand. Why would Sam’s and my wedding matter to anyone but us, you, Tyler, and a few others?” Josie asked.

“Because, as you’ve been saying, they all care about you. They’ve been a big part of your life for years and years. They’ll want to celebrate your happiness with you. And I know you’ll want to share it with them, too.” Carol beamed as though she had just stated the obvious.

And it was obvious, Josie realized. So much for her eloping fantasy.

SEVENTEEN

J
OSIE HAD LITTLE time to think about obligations to her friends and colleagues after Carol left. The mirrors on the butler’s pantry walls had been difficult and dangerous to remove, and everyone on her crew had spent over an hour dealing with mounds of shattered glass tiles before starting to pull down the false ceiling that had diminished the height of the room. Both jobs were difficult and dirty, and as they worked, Josie began to learn just how irritating her own amateur sleuthing could be to friends and colleagues. After two hours of listening to speculation, inept deductions evolving from incomplete or inaccurate data, and various complex and unlikely theories, Josie claimed to have urgent business back at the office and she left, promising to return within the hour.

She had been busy speculating herself—wondering what a search in her browser’s history file would turn up. She flipped on her computer, and in a moment had her answer. Tilly Higgins had apparently been searching for the perfect bathroom fixtures. Period. She turned off the machine and was bending down to pet one of the kittens when she noticed the flashing light on her answering machine. She put the kitten in her lap and pressed the button to replay her message.

Bad news she didn’t need, but bad news it was. Her insurance company was threatening to cancel her coverage. Or perhaps the snotty voice was explaining that her coverage had already been canceled. Panicked, Josie grabbed her address book with her right hand and the phone with her left. She found her insurance company’s phone number, dialed, and ended up listening to a menu that covered all possibilities. She pressed buttons that indicated her interest in speaking English, in talking about health coverage rather than term life insurance, workman’s comprehensive insurance, or long-term care insurance. She waited impatiently after each choice before being offered yet another option. By the time she finally found herself talking to a person, she was frantic and wondering why she had ever stopped smoking.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, I . . .”

“If you will just enter your policy number.”

“How?”

“Press the numbers on your phone.”

Josie did just that.

“Am I speaking with Arnold Johnson of Johnson Electronics?”

“No. I’m . . .”

“Perhaps you made a mistake. Why don’t you enter your policy number again?”

Sighing, Josie did just that.

“Thank you. Am I speaking to Rose Chen of Rose’s Nail Salon and Waxing Spa?”

“No. I . . .”

“If you will be more careful perhaps we could try this just one more time.”

“Perhaps I could just tell you my policy number,” Josie suggested and, before the woman on the other end of the line could protest, she did just that.

“Excuse me while I enter that information.”

The line went silent, and for a long moment, Josie was afraid that her suggestion had upset the system so much that she would have to begin again. But the voice returned and Josie finally had an opportunity to ask what their call to her had meant.

“I’m sorry. You pressed the wrong button—you aren’t calling about your company’s health insurance policy, you’re calling in response to our call to you . . .”

“Yes, but your call to me was about my company’s health insurance policy,” Josie interrupted to point out.

“I understand, ma’am, but that information isn’t on my computer. You need to speak to someone in another department.”

Josie cursed under her breath.

“Excuse me. I didn’t quite hear that, ma’am.”

“I was asking if you could transfer my call to someone in that department,” Josie lied.

“I would be happy to do that, ma’am. And, if I may suggest that the next time you call us, you listen a bit more carefully to the initial menu offerings.”

This time Josie didn’t bother to hide her irritation. Before she could finish the one-word curse, she was passed along to the other department.

“Excuse me?”

Josie felt she had no choice but to lie again. “I’m sorry. I spilled some coffee on . . . on my foot. Hot coffee.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with your medical problems, ma’am.”

“Don’t hang up! Please! I need to talk to you . . . to talk to someone about a message you . . . your company . . . my insurance company . . . left on my answering machine.”

“Your name? The name of your company? The number of the insurance policy you wish to discuss?”

Josie answered these questions.

“And you received calls from this office concerning your insurance when?”

“This morning.”

“Which call are you responding to?”

“Which call?” Josie glanced at the answering machine. The number five flashed in the little square. The first call had worried her so much that she hadn’t even thought of listening to the other five. “The person who called said my company’s health insurance policy was in danger of being canceled,” she answered, wondering if somewhere in the following calls was one explaining that the first—ha, ha—had been a mistake.

“According to my records, three messages were left on Island Contracting’s answering machine this morning.”

“I’m afraid I only listened to one of them. The first. The one informing me that my company’s health insurance was being canceled. The one that didn’t tell me any more than that my company’s health insurance was being canceled. The one that did not explain the reason for this particular action. The . . .”

“If you will allow me to explain, Ms. Pigeon.”

“Yes, yes, of course. I just . . .”

“We have handled all of Island Contracting’s insurance needs for, let me see, I believe for more than three decades. The original owner was a Mr. Noel Roberts. Am I correct?”

“I guess. Yes.”

“During that time we have provided health insurance for over five hundred employees.”

“That many? Really?”

“Five hundred and nine according to our records.”

“Really?”

“Yes and I must remind you that that number does not include dependents.”

“You mean relatives.”

“Yes, dependent relatives—wives, husbands, children under twenty-one.”

“Of course.”

“Not of course, Ms Pigeon. I don’t know if you realize it, but it is no longer the norm for small companies like Island Contracting to carry health insurance for all of its employees, to say nothing of the employees’ dependents. Relatives,” she added as though Josie might not understand.

“Island Contracting has always had a policy of taking care of the people who work for it.”

“Commendable, but not necessarily practical,” the voice on the other end of the line stated.

“I don’t see what this has to do with you canceling— trying to cancel—Island Contracting’s insurance,” Josie said. “After all, my company has always paid its insurance premiums on time.” She paused, knowing her statement wasn’t absolutely true, and suspecting that the computer screen in front of the person she was speaking with probably was displaying that information. “Very large premiums, too,” she added.