Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines (23 page)

“Her mother-in-law told her she would love to take the baby since the older kids are in preschool and school. So, one day a week she is ours.”

“That’s terrific.” Hannah McKenzie was married to one of Polly’s friends from high school. They’d met last Christmas and when Hannah ended up helping Sylvie with the Sycamore House Christmas party, the two women discovered they worked well together. Since then, Hannah spent most Saturdays helping Sylvie with wedding receptions and other events.

“Call if you need me.” She dodged the Haunted Hallway set and ran up the steps. Thomas Zeller’s books were in her bookcase and she wanted to track down his publisher in order to ask some questions. Now that she thought about it, it seemed odd that no one from the publishing company had bothered to come to Bellingwood or even to call her.

Polly found the last book he had written and sat down at her dining room table with her laptop, looking for phone numbers. It took some doing, but she finally ended up speaking to a man whose high-pitched voice had a very affected British accent.

“Jeremy Swanson speaking, how may I assist you today?”

“Mr. Swanson, this is Polly Giller. I am the owner of Sycamore House in Bellingwood, Iowa, where Thomas Zeller was staying until he died last week. I would like to ask some questions.”

“Yes, Miss Giller. I will answer the questions that I am able to answer. Please proceed.”

Please proceed? She wanted to giggle, but thought better of it. “Can you tell me if Natalie Dormand is really Thomas Zeller’s assistant?”

“Miss Dormand is employed by our firm and has been working exclusively with Mr. Zeller for the last two years.”

“She works for you?”

“Yes, Miss Giller, that is exactly what I said.”

“Has she contacted you about his new manuscript?”

“I was under the impression that he hadn’t finished it. The last I spoke with Mr. Zeller, he intimated that there was quite a bit of work to be done on it before it would be ready for publication.”

“Does Natalie Dormand generally do a lot of re-writing for him?”

“That is information I do not have. I am uncertain of the specifics of their relationship.”

“Do you know if Thomas had an agent or anyone who might be managing his estate? We’ve heard from no one regarding his body or personal effects.”

“It is my understanding that Miss Dormand has all of that well in hand. I am sure Mr. Zeller had a great many friends here locally and given some time, I could gather information on his local agent and the lawyer he works with. But again, you could also ask these questions of Miss Dormand.”

“Does Miss Dormand work out of an office there or was she working directly with Mr. Zeller?”

“I don’t understand the reason for these questions, Miss Giller. Miss Dormand does have an office here, but she is not required to be in it. Most of her time is spent working quite closely with Mr. Zeller.”

Polly could tell that she wasn’t going to get much further with this man.

“Do you carry the publishing rights for the Eddie Powers mysteries, Mr. Swanson?”

“No, I’m sorry, we do not. We did not purchase those when we took Mr. Zeller on as a client.”

“One last question. Do you publish Grey Linder’s work?”

“The poet? No, Miss Giller, we do not. The last thing he wrote that was worth any attention was twenty years ago. The man is a washed up hack.”

Polly swallowed a snort as the snobby Mr. Swanson’s speech pattern flattened out. He spat that last sentence out with more than a little venom.

“How do you know about Mr. Linder?” he asked her.

“He has been working here at Sycamore House as well.”

“Don’t be taken in by that drunk. He isn’t working and I can almost certainly assure you that you will receive no remuneration for his stay there. He will be gone one night and you won’t be able to find him.”

She was going to have to ask Jeff about that. They’d not yet been stiffed by any of their guests, but she supposed there might be a first time.

Jeremy Swanson interrupted her thoughts. “I must attend a meeting in a short while, so unless you have any other questions …” he let the sentence hang there.

Polly thought about outwaiting him, but decided to be the better person. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Swanson. If I have any more questions, I will contact you at a later date. I will also let my friend, Sheriff Merritt, who is handling the investigation into Mr. Zeller’s death, know that I’ve spoken with you just in case he has any further questions.”

She pressed the button to end the call and snickered to herself. She wasn’t sure why that felt so good, but it did.

Another internet search
and Polly dialed her phone again.

“Seafold Publishing, this is Ben speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello, my name is Polly Giller and I would like to speak to someone about Thomas Zeller.”

“The only someone available is me and so I guess I’m it. How do you know Tom?” the man asked. He had a deep, resonant voice, exactly the opposite of Jeremy Swanson.

“Mr. Zeller has been staying here in Iowa. I own Sycamore House in Bellingwood and he spent the last month or so with us while finishing his book.”

“Did you get to know the old man well before he died?” Ben asked.

“I’d like to think so, but I’ve been finding out much more about him since he’s been gone. I just spoke with Jeremy Swanson …”

Before she could finish, he let out a hack of laughter, “That fatuous ass. He and his cronies are crooks. I told Thomas as much nearly twenty years ago, but he was looking for big
money to build his portfolio in a hurry and they were willing to pay him.”

“Do you still have publishing rights for the Eddie Powers mysteries?”

“I sure do. That was part of the deal. Any future Eddie Powers mysteries were to come to me, too. But I guess that isn’t going to happen now, is it. I hate the idea that I’m going to have to make a living off of the fact that Thomas is dead, but if I want to keep my father’s company open, it’s what I’ll have to do.”

Polly liked this man and before she knew it was spilling everything she knew about the books, the codes, Thomas’s search for his long lost love and son and then she said, “I’m pretty sure that he has just written another Eddie Powers mystery, but there’s a Natalie Dormand here who has control of his laptop and I don’t know what she’s going to do with the manuscript. Thomas was out here in Iowa looking for Nelly and his son.”

“It’s too bad he didn’t find them before he died. He spent a lot of time with us during the early years of his search. We scheduled his travel for him and checked up on him regularly when he was working, just to make sure he was taking care of himself. Some of those locations were pretty remote,” Ben said. “Do you really think there’s another Eddie Powers mystery?”

“I do. And I think there’s one more message for Nelly.” Polly decided that she wasn’t telling anyone about Kevin and Genie. At least not yet. The time wasn’t right.

“You don’t have another room that I could stay in, do you?” he asked. “I’d like to fly out tomorrow and see what I can do about retrieving that manuscript.”

“Let me see what I can do.”

They exchanged email addresses and then it occurred to Polly that she’d be in Des Moines for another Therapy Dog Training session. She told Ben about that and gave him the hours she’d be busy. If it worked for her to pick him up, then she would make sure he got to Bellingwood.

“Until tomorrow, then,” he said. “Thank you for calling me, Miss Giller.”

“It’s Polly and I’m sorry, your last name is?”

“Seafold. It’s a family business.”

“I hope to see you tomorrow, then, Mr. Seafold. Thank you for your time.”

They hung up and everything inside her stomach roiled in panic. She didn’t know whether she was excited or terrified that she’d completely screwed things up again. If only Anita would call to let her know what was going on.

There was a knock at her front door. Obiwan beat her to the entryway, his tail wagging. “I suppose you know who this is,” she said and opened the door.

Jeff was standing there with a tray. “I’m delivering lunch today,” he said, handing it to her. “I wanted to make sure you ate something healthy. I brought Mr. Linder’s up for him and figured I could just as easily drop yours off, too.”

Polly’s roiling stomach took another turn at the reminder of Grey Linder’s possible failure to pay.

“Jeff?” she started.

“Yes, Polly.”

No, she wasn’t going to do that now. They could deal with it later and she didn’t feel like passing along Jeremy Swanson’s negative comments. “Do we have another room available through the weekend?”

“Yes. We have the fourth room over in the addition. Did you invite someone else?”

“It’s Thomas Zeller’s old publisher. I just got off the phone with him and he wants to come out to see what he can do to help clear the rest of this mess up. He’s flying into Des Moines tomorrow sometime. I’ll probably bring him back with me after I’m finished with the Pet Therapy session.”

“Just so you know, I’ve had a few media inquiries. I’ve sent everything to the Sheriff’s office in Boone or forwarded it to Natalie Dormand. Thomas Zeller was kind of a big deal.”

“Yes he was. Have you talked to her much?”

“Who, Natalie? Not a lot. She stays to herself. In fact, I’m taking lunch to her in a few minutes. Why?”

“No reason. Thank you for this,” Polly said, nodding at the tray. “I’ll bring things down later.”

She watched him go back to the steps, then took the tray in to the dining room table. She barely had time to look at what was there to eat when her phone rang. It was Henry.

“Hey there, pretty girl. You never texted me. Are you up and moving?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Polly exclaimed. “I woke up late and haven’t been thinking straight since then. How’s your day going?”

“I can think of a few ways it could be better, but since you’re there and I’m here, it’s going well. I can’t talk long but I wanted to make sure you were alive.”

“I’m alive. I have a lot to tell you, but it will wait.” Polly smiled as she said it. Henry’s curiosity would kill him.

“That’s not fair. What about?”

“It’s no big deal. I’ll tell you tonight. I love you,” she said sweetly.

“You’re a brat, but I love you too. I’ll talk to you tonight.

They hung up and Polly looked at her lunch. The stew was still steaming and it looked as if Hannah had put their new Panini press to good use today.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE

Stopping in front of the airport, Polly looked around. Even though Ben Seafold had arrived while she was in the middle of the training session with Obiwan, he assured her that he could find plenty to occupy himself until she picked him up.

She called his phone and watched a giant of a man reach into his pocket. He answered, “Hello,” and looked up as she drove directly in front of him and rolled down the passenger window.

“Ben Seafold?” she asked.

“Then you must be Polly Giller.” He had thick, brown curly hair and a full beard
and was probably in his late forties or early fifties. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, reminding Polly a little of Paul Bunyan. Hints of grey in his beard shimmered in the light from the truck’s cab when he opened the door.

“I am, and this is my do
g Obiwan.” Polly pulled Obiwan close to her, making room for their guest. Ben dropped his bag behind the seat and after getting himself settled, reached out with one hand to let the dog sniff him.

The next thing Polly knew, Obiwan was draped across the man’s lap begging for Ben to scratch him. Ben obliged, rubbing the dog’s ears and
scratching the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry about that,” she laughed. “He can sit here.”

“No, this is fine. I had to leave my Gertrude at home and I miss her when I’m gone.”

“What kind of dog is Gertrude?”

“A miniature dachshund.”

Polly tried and failed to stifle a snort of laughter. “A miniature dachshund?” The image of the two of them walking together was too much. She pulled out of the airport and headed for the interstate, shaking her head to regain her composure.

“She’s my girl. I’ve had her for six years and she never fails to let me know how glad she is that I rescued her.”

Ben Seafold kept his hands on Obiwan. “I got to thinking today,” he said. “This trip probably wasn’t necessary, but Thomas was such a big part of my life, I couldn’t stay away after I talked to you. When I heard he died, I didn’t know what to do, so I guess I didn’t do anything but stay at home and feel sorry for myself.”

“I wish I would have known,” Polly said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no, young lady. I’m here now. Maybe I’ll take you out for a rousing night on the town and tell you stories of Thomas when he wasn’t quite the gentleman you got to know.
He taught me all of my vices. Dad wasn’t too happy with many of the decisions Thomas made regarding my education into the world, but we all lived through those days and I had the time of my life.”

“Did you see much of him in the last few years?”

“He’d come up to the house every October. In fact, he was planning to come see me after he left here. He told me we had things to talk about. He liked to be at my place around Halloween. He’d dress up in a black suit, paste on a fake mustache and part his hair on the side, then we’d spend the weekend haunting some of his favorite clubs. He would recite Poe’s creepiest stories and then we’d go home and light a fire, drink hot chocolate and watch slasher movies. I both dreaded and anticipated those trips. After a good solid night of scaring me to death, he’d get up the next day about noon and act like that was a perfectly normal day in his life. Then, he’d beg me to take him to an apple orchard or some mundane attraction and we’d be off, acting like tourists for the rest of the time.”

“He really had a thing for Poe,” Polly commented.

“I suppose he did. I didn’t see it except around Halloween. But, yes, I think that somehow Poe spoke to his soul. Thomas always wanted there to be more to life than the angst Poe expressed, but after so many years, it was as if he gave up on hope and was simply living until it was over. He enjoyed his friends, he loved to write and he liked meeting his fans, but there wasn’t anything big and wonderful out there on the horizon for him. He had too much respect for life to do anything other than live it, but he didn’t have a lot of …” Ben paused. “Zest. He didn’t have zest.”

“Did he have zest when he was younger?”

Ben laughed. “I don’t know if it was his alcoholism or what, but when he was up, he was really quite fun. Every time he got one of those pictures in the mail, he cleaned up his act and got excited about looking for Nelly and his son. Then, when the book was finished, he would come back a lost and broken man. He hadn’t found them, he didn’t know how he was going to start another novel, and each night he drank himself to sleep. Every once in a while Dad talked him into rousing out of his stupor long enough to go on a book tour, but he didn’t do many of those, they were too much effort.”

“It sounds like those years were rough on him.”

“They were rough on all of us that loved him. Dad and I always wondered what he could have done if he’d stayed sober. Actually, even if he had just managed to stay away from that terrible depressed drinking he did, things would have been better. But, it’s who he was and honestly, that’s what created those great books.”

“Did he ever get close to finding Nelly?” Polly asked.

“No, not really. He was always surprised to find out where they’d ended up. They were all over the country, never staying very long. It wasn’t that easy to track people down back then and Thomas wouldn’t hire a private detective. He figured that Nelly would have left clues for him and if he couldn’t find her, he wasn’t paying someone else to scare her to death by chasing her down.”

“Kind of like the clues he left for her in the book?”

“I can’t believe you figured that out. All of those years the books have been in print and no one ever saw that. Thomas never said a word.”

“I’m surprised he was able to keep it a secret. He told no one! How does a person do that?”

“There was only one person he wanted to figure it out and I guess she never did or else she would have let him find her.”

“What about you,” Polly asked, “Do you have a family?”

“Not yet. Dad decided he didn’t need a city to build a publishing company. We always told him that he found the most remote location in Vermont and gave the banker some money. Not a lot because they couldn’t get anyone to live there except fools. Things have built up a lot in the last thirty years, but it’s not a haven for flirtatious women.”

They were near Boone and Polly asked, “Have you eaten?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I had plenty to eat at your little airport in Des Moines. After sitting in airports and on airplanes all day today, I’m looking forward to stretching my legs. I have some manuscripts to read.” He chuckled. “Ain’t technology grand? I remember toting boxes of manuscripts for Dad. Nowadays, I load them onto a tablet and read until my eyes bleed.” Polly heard him chuckle again, “And sometimes it isn’t because the tablet is hurting my eyes, but the work is just that awful.”

“We’re almost to Bellingwood,” she said. “There’s plenty of room to walk around. I hope you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will. I’ve done all the talking on this trip. Tell me about your Sycamore House.”

She found herself telling her story, of returning to Iowa from Boston to find herself the owner of an old school house that was in desperate need of renovation. As she described meeting her new friends, he laughed in all the right places and encouraged her to keep talking. It seemed like only a few moments had passed and then she was pulling up to the front door.

Obiwan sat back up and his whole body shook with joy when he saw where they were. As soon as Polly was out of the truck, he jumped to the ground and ran to the front door, wagging his tail.

“Someone knows where home is,” Ben grabbed his bag from behind the seat and stretched, looking around. “This is a beautiful spot. Really peaceful.”

“It’s home,” Polly said. “Come on in.”

She gave him a quick tour of the main level, then took him to the addition. Obiwan followed them to the side door and stopped, expecting Polly to open the door to the outside so he could go to the barn.

“Not yet, bud,” she said. “We’ll go out later.”

“You have a barn,” Ben said. “I know that’s obvious, but what kind of animals do you have down there?”

“I rescued four Percheron horses last winter. Sometimes timing is everything. I knew I wanted to get a horse or two, so I had this amazing barn-raising event. We didn’t even get the barn fully finished before my veterinarian had four horses who needed me.”

“Are they okay now?”

Polly pressed the button for the elevator to take them upstairs.

“They are great. They just needed some tender loving care.”

They rode up quietly in the elevator. She opened the door to his room and went inside with him, pulling the door closed behind her.

“Natalie Dormand is across the hallway from you. If another room had been available, I wouldn’t have put you that close to her. Have you two ever met?”

“We’ve spoken a few times, but I’ve never met her. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

Polly emailed the keys to his room and outside doors to Ben. “Feel free to come and go as you please. You might feel a little trapped here without a car, but if you want a ride uptown for anything, just let me know. You can call or text me any time.”

“Where’s uptown and do they have a diner?”

She smiled. “It’s a wonderful diner and it’s three blocks that way,” Polly pointed toward town. “If you don’t mind the walk, it’s a nice community. If you do mind the walk, it’s still nice.”

“I’ll be just fine. It looks like you all are ready for Halloween.”

“We certainly are. There won’t be any readings of Poe’s literature and I’m hoping we don’t scare the children too much, but the Sheriff’s wife is excited about creating some fun for them and we’re all going to be part of it.” She turned to leave. “Welcome to Bellingwood. I hope we can make your stay worthwhile. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Good night, Polly Giller.” He held the door as she left. “I look forward to the next few days.”

Polly and Obiwan went back down the elevator and out the side door. Obiwan wandered off toward the back of the building and she took out her phone to text Henry.

“I’m back in town and have Ben Seafold safely ensconced in his room. I missed you today.”

Within seconds, her phone buzzed with a return text.

“I missed you too. Have you eaten supper yet? Would you like some company?”

She had completely forgotten about supper.

“My truck is out front,”
she texted
, “Maybe Obiwan and I should come to your house. I can pick up a couple of sandwiches. How about it?”

Her phone rang this time and she answered it, “What’s up?”

“Drive around to your garage. You’ll see my truck there. I’ve been waiting here with the cats for you to return. I figured you hadn’t eaten supper and I brought sandwiches.”

“You’re a nut!
We’ll be up in a few minutes. Thanks for sitting with the cats.”

“They held me down and made me watch an old Superman movie. Don’t you have any chick flicks around here?”

“I’m sure I have one or two,” she giggled. “I’ll be right up.”

Obiwan jumped into the truck and Polly drove to her garage.

Doug was out walking along the tree line with Billy’s dog, Big Jack. Obiwan took off at a run when he saw them, wagging his tail, jumping in the air and barking at his friend.

“Hi there!” she called out over the sound of two happy dogs.

“Hey.” Doug didn’t sound like his normal self and Polly walked over to stand with him as they watched the dogs romp around.

“What’s up? You don’t sound very happy.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“But it’s some kind of deal. What’s going on?”

He stomped his right foot on the ground beside her and planted himself, then looked up. “I’m tired of being alone.”

“Alone? Where’s Billy?”

“He’s always out with Rachel. They don’t even stay to play games anymore.”

“Why don’t you invite your other friends over?”

“I do. And they come over sometimes, but I feel like I’m the only person without a life around here. And I’m tired of playing online by myself all the time. I should have just stayed in my parent’s basement. At least then there was someone to talk to when I came out for dinner.”