War and Peas (21 page)

There was a stunned silence, then the sounds of Sharlene's steno pad and pen hitting the floor. "Me? There must be some mistake—"

“No, dear. The only mistake was Regina's not telling me how close you were to completing your degree."

“But that can't be right," Sharlene said. "I was just taking the courses Ms. Palmer suggested—"

“Believe me, I've checked this out very thoroughly," Babs said. "You're lacking only one history course. Now, will you accept the job?"

“I–I—" Sharlene glanced around the table as if waiting for someone to tell her the answer.

Jumper Cable, who'd obviously known about this in advance, grinned at her and nodded.

“Yes — yes, I will," she said, blushing furiously.

“Do I hear a motion?" Babs asked.

Jane
pretty much tuned out the rest of the board meeting. She'd been surprised and pleased for Sharlene at first, but almost immediately a nasty suspicion had pushed its way into her mind and refused to be dislodged.

Was Sharlene really so astonished to learn that she was within one semester of being qualified to be the director of the Snellen? Could anyone have taken all those years and years of night-school courses and never once wondered what they added up to? Had she never seen her own transcript? Never looked at the course catalog and realized she was close to getting a degree? Even as sweet and obedient as Sharlene was, had she never questioned why Regina was choosing the courses she did? Sweet. Sharlene was sweet. But there was a core of toughness in her, too. She'd stuck out a demanding job for many, many years. She'd taken a great many classes, not all of which could have been interesting to her, and done well in all of them.. And she'd done the same with her job. No one had ever suggested having any problems with her. It wasn't easy creating that kind of persona — the perfect secretary, on top of everything, producing perfect board packets, knowing how everything from the coffeemaker to the laser printer worked, making sure all phone calls were returned, taking care of dozens of disparate little chores. That took real strength. She appeared to be fluffy, but under the fluff there had to be a core of steel.

Jane hated suspecting Sharlene of anything wicked. But the fact was, somebody had cleared a path for her to leap from secretary to director. And who was more likely, in a purely logical sense, to do that than Sharlene herself — the clear beneficiary of those deaths? Trying to shake off the thought, Jane studied the others in the room. Unless there was a nearly invisible maniac on the loose who was an unknown factor, one of these people had killed two of their own group. Yet it looked like a handful of other groups Jane had been part of — PTA boards, the church fund-raising council. Good, generous people who gave their time and energies to the boring details of keeping a valuable organization running.

They were discussing a traveling exhibit that might be available to them at the time the new museum would open, but which had to be committed to now. Whitney was being questioned about the building schedule, possible glitches in the timing. Jumper was being questioned as to the financial and legal liabilities if the building was not one hundred percent completed when the exhibit arrived. There was serious talk about security, insurance, promotion, and parking facilities. Everyone at the table appeared to be giving his or her full attention to the matter.

Nevertheless, one of those intense, committed individuals was a coldblooded killer.

Eli Bascomb was out of the running. Babs had gotten in touch with him in Alaska, so he was presumably too far away to have been zipping back and forth. And the elderly honorary board member wasn't a likely candidate, either, as Jane had never laid eyes on him at the museum and it was hard to imagine him having the strength or stealth to lurk around without being spotted.

But what of the rest? Jumper was bright and charming, but had an obviously eccentric streak. Babs, too, had a strong personality and her own set of morals. She had admitted killing her husband and made clear she had no regret whatsoever. Lisa had taken on a whole new professional field that didn't particularly interest her, but had done it because it was the sensible thing — and had done it well. That showed strength of character and determination.

So did Whitney's presence today. He was apparently giving his full attention and considerable expertise to the discussion of the traveling-exhibit and building-completion dates while his fiancée lay in a coffin at the funeral home. That couldn't be easy.

Even Georgia, more recently bereaved, was participating in the discussion, asking intelligent and pointed questions. Only Caspar Snellen, surly and wary, leaning against the copy machine and glaring at all of them,
looked
like a murder suspect. But he was basically a coward, hiding behind the law and lawyers to work his many nasty little schemes. Still, a coward could be vicious when cornered. Had Regina cornered him in some way the rest of them knew nothing about? If that were true, why did Derek have to die, too? Jane's mind kept coming back to Derek's outburst in this very room. He'd slung around a lot of hateful accusations. Anyone might have heard them. Jane was certain that had led to his death. But perhaps it was what he
hadn't
said. Something that the murderer knew or feared that Derek might say next, rather than what he'd already said? That was a fertile field for speculation. Derek had shown that he could go out of control and blab without restraint. Perhaps someone feared that he'd take up where he left off and had to stop him before he could reveal any more secrets.

There were no more revelations at the board meeting, and it broke up without incident forty-five minutes after starting. The replacement-ofboard-member item on the agenda had evidently been postponed. Babs adjourned the meeting as efficiently and briskly as she had convened and conducted it, asking Sharlene to stay for a moment. The others trailed out in twos and threes. Only Jumper, Sharlene, and Babs remained. Babs explained to Sharlene that since it was already Thursday and the museum would be closed the next afternoon for Regina's funeral, Sharlene's appointment as acting director would become official the following Monday. Eli had suggested this for the sake of the bookkeeping, since Sharlene's salary was about to undergo a significant increase.

Shelley took a fresh supply of forms and subtly tapped her ear, instructing Jane to eavesdrop — an instruction Jane hardly needed. As the computer booted up and Jane prepared to go back to work, Babs was suggesting that Sharlene might spend some of the day rearranging Regina's office — now Sharlene's — to her satisfaction.

“And we'll need a new secretary," Babs said. "I'm afraid we'll never find another one as good as you. Do you want me to help you find someone?”

Sharlene thought for a minute. "There was a woman in one of the classes I took early on who was really good. We've sort of kept in touch and I think she might be willing to take the job. Let me contact her first.”

Jane cringed inwardly. That almost sounded like Sharlene had thought this out in advance.

“Uh — Sharlene," Jumper said, "I wonder if — that is — how about a celebration lunch? You and me, I mean," he added.

Jane could almost
hear
Sharlene blush. "Oh, well — yes. That would be nice.”

When she'd gone, Jumper said to Babs, "Would you like to come along with us?”

Babs laughed. "No, I would not! I'm much too old to enjoy being the patient observer of Love's Awakening.”

Jumper stuttered something that was almost words.

“Or even Sex's Awakening," Babs went on with a chuckle. Then she said, more seriously, "Not that sex isn't a great thing, if it keeps in its proper place. But people like Derek seem to fail miserably in that area. Everything was sex to him. Most of us get sex mixed in a bit with all the other passions, but Derek had it backward."

“I'm not sure I understand that," Jumper said.

“And I'm not sure I can explain it," Babs said. "But look at the passions we're all subject to — ambition, for example. Ambition can be overwhelming. A man can appear to give up everything for his own advancement, but beneath it all, there's always an element of sex. He wants to be rich, successful, revered — and he also wants other men to envy him and women to desire him. Derek's ambition was backward. He thought he could get what he wanted by being sexy. Oh, well, so much for philosophy. You better go make your lunch reservations.”

Jane heard papers rustling as Jumper gathered up his things and left. She sat staring blindly at the computer screen. Babs said good-bye to her, and Jane, preoccupied, mumbled a polite farewell.

Sex, she thought. They'd dismissed sex. Oh, she and Shelley had speculated a bit about Whitney and Regina's relationship and complained about Derek's sleazeball attitudes, but they really hadn't taken sex seriously as a motive. Maybe it was the museum atmosphere that made it seem unlikely.

Her thoughts focused on one person and, like dominoes falling in a neat line, everything clicked. It was, as she had suspected, obvious how everything fitted.

“I don't want to leave Heidi and I can hardly sneak her out of the building," she told Shelley a few minutes later, when she found her friend critically studying a diorama of a hog-butchering event at the turn of the century — a gruesome favorite of visiting school groups. "So you're going to have to go outside for lunch and call Mel from wherever you won't be overheard. Once he picks up the cat and the ledger, we have to have a private talk with him."

“Jane, what's wrong? You look really frazzled.”

“Shelley, I know who did it and why. I'm certain of it. But we can't talk here."

“Who?" Shelley yelped.

Jane whispered in Shelley's ear.

“No, that can't be," Shelley said.

“It can and is. And it was something you said about Whitney and a comment Babs made about sex that brought it all together. We have to get out of here to talk to Mel about it.”

Mel accepted the stuffed cat and the ledger with much better grace than Jane had expected. Shelley was severely disappointed. As soon as he'd gone, Sharlene came into the boardroom. "Jane, your friend the detective just asked me to sign a paper releasing Heidi and a book to the police. I was too stunned to even ask why. What's this about?”

Jane shrugged and lied. "I have no idea. Sharlene, I must leave for a couple hours to take my son to the' doctor for his college physical. I don't know if I'll be back today. And Shelley's new crown is loose and she has to see the dentist. I didn't want you to worry what had become of us," she finished, picking up her purse and delving into it for car keys.

Mel was already waiting at Jane's house when they arrived. "You were right," he said as Jane led them inside and started the coffeemaker. "The cat is full of peas."

“I wonder if they'll sprout," Shelley said. "And who they belong to."

“As far as I'm concerned, they belong to the museum," Mel said. "That's who released them to me. Jane, Shelley says you have a theory."

“It's more than a theory. I'm certain I'm right.”

She talked for a long time, ticking off items on her fingers as she went. Mel and Shelley made no comments until she was done, then asked a few questions and nodded at her answers. Mel paced the kitchen, frowning. "I've got to admit it does account for everything that's happened. But where's the proof? We can't make an arrest on a good guess."

“Well. ." Jane said hesitantly, "I have an idea about that, too. But it would involve persuading at least one person to put on a good act and take some risks. I think the individual I have in mind would do it. The museum is going to be closed to the public after the funeral tomorrow, but open to the whole staff for an early supper. That would be the time. Here's what I have in mind. .”

Funerals are usually
dismal. And Regina's was more upsetting than most. She'd been young, attractive, bright, successful, and facing what would probably have been the best of what life had to offer when she was cut down. Added to that, someone among the mourners had caused her death, and everyone was aware of it. While people had been doing their jobs and having their meetings at the museum, the brutal fact of Regina's death had been dampened slightly. But the funeral itself was a sad and brutal reminder of the real loss they'd all suffered.

Jane and Shelley joined the other volunteers after the service to return to the museum while Regina's intimate friends and co-workers went to the cemetery. The entry hall had been set up for a supper. Tables had been brought in and laid with paper tablecloths and plastic plates and utensils. Coffee and tea urns steamed; several trays of cold cuts, cheeses, rolls, and relishes were put out, covered with plastic wrap that would be removed when everyone arrived. Someone, probably the ever-efficient Sharlene, had had the foresight to rent several microwave ovens, which were stuffed with casseroles being kept warm.

Finally the funeral limos arrived. Jane had to smile a little as Jumper came in. He was a tweedy professor today, charcoal leather elbow patches and all. The only thing that was missing was a pipe, and she suspected he had one hidden somewhere on his person. Babs and Sharlene were both in tailored gray-and-white dresses, and Lisa, more traditional, wore deepest black. In deliberate contrast, Caspar Snellen, whose bad taste knew no bounds, had on a plaid jacket and a violently pink shirt. At least he'd stayed away from the funeral itself and turned up only for the food afterward.

Whitney Abbot looked exhausted and wrung out, and Georgia Snellen seemed to have aged a decade or so during the week. Jane assumed the older couple who walked in with the cemetery crowd were Regina's aunt and uncle.

When nearly everyone had a plate, Babs took a place near the front door and the room fell silent. "This probably isn't the time for speeches," she said, "but on behalf of the board of directors and Regina's friends and family, I want to thank all of you for being so kind and organizing this event. This is a sad day for all of us, but in a sense, Regina's vision will remain as we move the Snellen into the future.”