Two Bites Too Many

by Debra H. Goldstein

  She pushed the button to put the call on hold and held the receiver out to Harlan. “It’s Chief Gerard.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sarah’s uncertainty about whether to remain in Harlan’s office while he took the call or leave, closing the door, was taken out of her hands when the second line rang. As she hurried to her desk before the answering machine intercepted the call, she hoped Chief Gerard’s conversation with Harlan wasn’t the harbinger of bad things for her mother.

  “Endicott and Associates. May I help you?”

  “Sarah, I need your help.”

  Hearing her sister’s plea for help immediately conjured a memory of four months ago, but she couldn’t imagine things had gone so wrong since they parted company at the Howellian. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m at the restaurant and things are worse than I imagined. There’s hardly any staff here.”

  “Did they all quit with the chef?”

  “No. They’ve been running short-staffed since the day they opened. From what I can gather, everyone has been doing double duty as line cooks, servers, and even dishwashers.”

  “You’re going to have to take up the personnel issues with Thomas. Sounds like he’s been cutting costs by minimizing his staff. You can’t work that way.”

  “And I don’t intend to, but we have to get through Lance’s funeral this week. It’s scheduled for Friday afternoon at four.”

  “To avoid disrupting most of the workday.”

  “You got it. Grace is going to help me, and the folks who are here are all in, but there’s no way I’ll have enough people to staff the funeral reception.”

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough. This is the time to negotiate with Thomas. If you hadn’t jumped to say ‘yes,’ you had him where you could have gotten some concessions in terms of using his kitchen and personnel and sharing jobs with Southwind. Better late than never. You can couch it in terms of him not having egg on his face.”

  “I can’t do that. I told him I’d handle this, and I will.”

  “How? Are you going to ask Marcus for help?”

  “No. That’s out of the question. The Wheaton city council won’t meet until next Tuesday, so because I know Southwind won’t be able to open at the earliest until next week, I called a few of its staff to help out.”

  “You don’t think Marcus is going to be mad at you using Southwind’s staff?”

  “Not as long as Southwind isn’t open. Remember, he’s only paying a part of their usual wages, so he may be mad at me, but he’d never begrudge our dishwasher and a few members of the waitstaff a chance to make a little extra money, even if it is under the Howellian umbrella.”

  “Well, then let me ask you, how do you think you’re going to get Thomas to pay for these people? After all, if he’s been skimping on staff, why should this event be different?”

  “Because he’s getting a good fee for this reception and the extra dishwasher and waitstaff hours are add-on expenses he can pass on to Lance’s family. Grace, as my sous chef, and the two people who already were on Thomas’s payroll as designated line cooks will be doing what they were hired to do. That means they won’t be adding to the ongoing Howellian payroll.”

  “And you need my help to . . .”

  “I don’t have enough servers. I was hoping you’d help me out like you did at the food expo. You’ll get paid for your hours worked.”

  “Did you happen to forget I have a job and my hours call for me to work on Fridays? Besides, think back to the food expo. My talents as a server aren’t much better than my efforts in a kitchen.”

  “Sarah, I know you work, but I can’t imagine Harlan won’t let you come to the funeral. By the time the service ends, no one will be going back to work. And, of all people, Harlan won’t expect you to make up the time you attend the service. If you wear a white shirt and black pants or a black skirt, you can stow your purse and earn a few dollars.”

  “Surely you can find someone who isn’t going to drop a tray or do anything else equally disastrous.”

  “Considering how much you hate anything to do with the food industry, I wouldn’t be begging if I wasn’t desperate. Please.”

  “Is that with sugar on it?” When Emily didn’t pick up on their running joke, Sarah realized Emily was beyond finding any humor in this situation. “Sure, I’ll do it, but only if you understand the risks and danger your guests may experience.”

  “Believe me, I’m desperate enough to take that chance.”

  After she hung up, Sarah realized neither of them had mentioned the refreshments for tomorrow night’s YipYeow planning meeting. Considering how swept up she’d been in the moment of their discussion, Sarah understood why, at lunch, Emily latched onto the details of the Howellian job as Thomas explained them rather than negotiating a better deal. Emotions could really cloud reasoning. It made her appreciate Harlan’s ability as a lawyer and a person who remained analytical even when emotions ran high.

  She glanced at the base of her office phone. The button for the other line was still lit. She doubted there was anything good about this conversation between Harlan and Chief Gerard. It was too long. As she fretted, the light went out. Rather than waiting for Harlan to summon her or come out of his office, she went to his door and pushed it open. “Well? Was the call about my mother?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Harlan didn’t answer. Instead, he walked around his desk until he stood in front of her. “Sarah, it isn’t good. We’ll figure it out, but Dwayne has your mother in his sights. He wants me to have her turn herself in.”

  She stepped backward and stumbled. He moved quickly to steady her but then turned away from her as her words flew. “That’s ridiculous! She didn’t do anything. Harlan, you’ve got to make him understand.”

  With sagging shoulders, he faced her again. “Sarah, I tried. That’s why we were on the phone so long.”

  “Well, he’s being unreasonable. You’ll have to try again.”

  “You don’t have to yell at me. I’m in the same corner as your mother and you. We’re just going to have to cast more doubt on what he thinks is his evidence against Maybelle.”

  Sarah lowered her voice as she slid onto Harlan’s leather couch. She leaned forward to where he still stood. “What evidence does the chief think he has against my mother?”

  “Fingerprints.”

  “Fingerprints?”

  “Hers are the only ones on the finial.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “Why?” Harlan sat on the couch next to her. He cocked his head toward her.

  “It might not have the fingerprints of whoever bashed my fence because I think they used a bat or something like that, and Mom’s fingerprints would have gotten on it when she picked it up on Main Street, but Cliff’s should be on it, too. When he knocked everything off Mr. Knowlton’s desk, the finial had to be one of the things that fell to the floor. He put the things that fell back in her purse or on the desk. Because he held it, his fingerprints should be on it.”

  “How can you be sure? Maybe it still was in her pocketbook or he overlooked it when he picked things up. Either way, Cliff’s fingerprints wouldn’t be on it.”

  Sarah shut her eyes and thought for a moment before opening them again. “I distinctly remember my mother taking it out of her purse and placing it on the desk. She did the same with her glasses, passbook, and telephone.”

  She bent her head and concentrated again.

  Harlan didn’t interrupt her thought process.

  Sarah looked up and smiled. “Harlan, she never put the finial back in her purse.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because Maybelle took all those things out, and while she put the glasses back in her purse and used the bankbook and her phone to make points, she wasn’t paying attention to the fence top. She left that sitting on his desk while she was sparring with Mr. Knowlton. It had to be one of the things Cliff knocked to the floor and picked up. If they’re no
t, it proves someone wiped it clean after killing Mr. Knowlton and my mother handled it when she found him.”

  Harlan rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s going to be hard to prove.”

  “Cliff should be able to confirm what I’m saying.”

  Harlan grimaced. “Which would mean he incriminates himself?”

  Sarah slumped against the back of the couch. “I didn’t think of that. Surely, Cliff will tell the truth.”

  “He won’t lie, but, considering the heat of the moment when he burst into Lance’s office, Cliff may not remember what he touched, what actually fell, or where he put anything he knocked off the desk. Wasn’t he focused on Lance?”

  Sarah nodded, remembering the force with which Cliff exploded into the office and the absolute hatred she’d felt in the look she’d seen Cliff and Lance exchange. She pushed it from her mind and concentrated on what might help her mother. “But what I saw and his memory aren’t our only hope to cast doubt on the chief’s theory. What about the security tapes?”

  “Apparently, there’s a problem with them.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Dwayne indicated the lab still is working on them, but he wants to talk to her again. My feeling is he thinks he’s close to having enough evidence to make a case against her. That’s why I want to talk to your mother before he questions her again.”

  “Do you want me to call her to come into the office?”

  “No. I told the chief she was in Birmingham and that, at best, it would be a few hours until she could get to Wheaton to meet with him. I need time to go over all of this with her, and I don’t want to lie to Dwayne. Consequently, I’d rather go to Birmingham to talk to her and then, if she agrees, bring her back with me.”

  “Well, at least we should call her and put her on notice we’re coming.”

  Harlan stopped her reaching for the phone. “On notice that I’m coming.”

  Sarah jerked her chin up and stared at Harlan, whose lips were pressed together. “I don’t understand. Why aren’t you letting me go, too? She’s my mother.”

  “I’m aware of that. Dwayne’s going to play your stories off each other. You’ve told me what you remember, but I need to know what your mother is going to say uncolored by your recollection. I’m sure you can find something to do here for the few hours until you close up.” He pointed a finger at her. “And don’t get any ideas about coming to Birmingham after work. Keep your cell by you. I’ll let you know when we’re on our way back to town. Now, let me give your mother a call.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  After she was positive Harlan was gone and wouldn’t be returning for something he’d forgotten, Sarah grabbed her purse. She made sure the answering machine was on, the lights off, and the door locked behind her. She’d promised Harlan not to come to Birmingham or to talk to her mother until after he did, but she couldn’t sit and do nothing while her mother was being framed. Sarah didn’t know how to get in touch with Cliff to see what he remembered, but there was one more person who might have been in and out of Mr. Knowlton’s office or would know if anyone else had. Eloise.

  Harlan and she hadn’t discussed finding out what Eloise knew or what information she’d given Chief Gerard in her statement, but it made perfect sense to Sarah. Just like she knew more about Harlan’s business and visitors than he realized, Eloise, as keeper of the gate for so many years, had to be familiar with where the bodies were buried in the bank. Sarah felt guilty shutting down Harlan’s office early, but, with the bank lobby closing at five tonight, Sarah couldn’t wait until she got off work. Hopefully she’d learn something that would help Harlan identify another suspect other than Maybelle.

  At the bank, a young security guard she didn’t recognize opened the door for her. She was disappointed not to see Alvin again but assumed he was at his regular day job. The other alternative, which she hoped wasn’t the case, was that because the murder happened on his guard shift, the security service had replaced him.

  Unlike how she customarily strolled through the lobby, enjoying the comfort its décor brought her, she didn’t have time for that today. As she approached Eloise’s desk, she stopped dead in her tracks. The blond teller from the other day was sitting there.

  “May I help you?”

  Sarah glanced at the nameplate sitting on the desk. Amanda Taylor. Even before she saw it didn’t have Eloise’s name on it, Sarah guessed from the woman’s demeanor and how she picked up and played with a pen, this now was her desk.

  Amanda Taylor smiled pleasantly at Sarah as she asked again. “May I help you, Mrs. Blair?”

  Sarah slightly recoiled, surprised Amanda knew her name.

  “I hope I didn’t scare you. I recognize you from being in the bank the other day. I was working as a teller then.”

  “Um, I was looking for Eloise.” Sarah peered around the lobby, but she didn’t see Eloise. She pointed to the nameplate. “Congratulations on your promotion, Ms. Taylor. Is Eloise still with the bank?”

  “Of course. She’s a pillar here, but Mr. Bailey thought it would be easier for her not to be at this desk anymore. He’s letting her use his old office until they decide exactly what she’s going to be doing. May I help you with something?”

  “No, thank you. I was walking by the bank and thought I’d pop in and say ‘Hello’ to her. My parents and I have known her forever. Is she in?”

  Ms. Taylor gestured toward Mr. Bailey’s former office. “I believe so. I didn’t see her leave. If there’s anything else I can help you with . . .”

  “Thank you, but that’s all I need today.” Sarah smiled at Ms. Taylor. She kept the smile pasted on her face while she knocked and entered Bailey’s former office. As she closed the door, Eloise turned away from the office’s single hung window. The Eloise facing Sarah was the Eloise Sarah knew, welcoming expression, perfect makeup and hair, a St. John knit suit, and Chanel No. 5.

  “Sarah, how nice to see you. Won’t you sit down?” Eloise pointed to the two guest chairs facing the desk. “What can I help you with today?”

  “Nothing. I came by to see how you are.”

  For a second, Sarah thought she saw a crack in Eloise’s façade, but the instance was too fleeting to know if she’d imagined the kindly look slipping.

  “How sweet of you.” From where she stood by the window, Eloise gestured around the office with her hand. “As you can see, I’m still here.”

  Sarah joined her by the window. She was surprised it hadn’t been updated like those near the front door, but she could see it was outfitted with alarm sensors and wiring. There wasn’t much to be seen from the window except the next-door office building and a portion of the alley that was a drop closer to the city square than Lance’s office.

  Eloise peered out the window again, her profile all Sarah could clearly see. “Hard to believe the offices on this side once had the best view from the bank, isn’t it?”

  Even though she doubted Eloise was paying attention to her, Sarah nodded.

  “When the bank was built, the main entrance and a hitching post for customers’ horses faced the city square. The land on this side of the bank was undeveloped. From the windows on this side of the building, the view was rolling grassland, thick tree clusters, and the bluff in the distance. The trees and the bluff blocked seeing the river, but people knew it was there.”

  “With that kind of scenery outside my window, I’d have had trouble getting anything accomplished,” Sarah said.

  “I would have, too, but people did. The staff back then was minimal.” She slipped past Sarah and sat in one of the guest chairs. She motioned for Sarah to take the matching one.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I always loved being able to see what was going on in the lobby and being close enough to keep up with Mr. Knowlton’s customers and their needs, but an office with a window would have been nice.”

  Sarah took a better look at the well-coiffed woman who’d been with the bank as long as she could remember.

&n
bsp; “Well, I finally get my window, at least temporarily, and you know what I’ve been thinking for the last hour?” Eloise didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve been thinking that building is so close to this one and casts such a shadow, this window would probably be more pleasant if it was covered with closed drapes.”

  “I guess Mr. Bailey didn’t care about the view. As pale as he is, he probably preferred not worrying about sunlight streaming into his office.”

  “Probably. In all the years I’ve worked here, he had this office the longest and was the only one who never complained. Most people couldn’t wait to get out of it.”

  “I can understand why.” Sarah shuddered as a cloud passed, making the space feel even colder and darker. This time, Eloise did grimace.

  “Mr. Knowlton always teased Mr. Bailey about secretly being a vampire because of his comfort with this office and the fact he enjoyed spending his daylight hours with his nose in his files.”

  “Surely that was a work ethic both Mr. Knowlton and you appreciated.”

  Eloise threw her a quizzical look. “You might say that, but enough of that. I can’t say much about work ethic since you caught me daydreaming by the window. Guess I’ll have plenty of time to daydream soon enough, though. The bank is officially giving me a buyout.”

  “Without a choice? When?”

  “The end of the month.”

  “Why?”

  “Mr. Bailey thinks it best for everyone.” She snorted. “I guess I’m a little too old school. Computers and all are wonderful, but Lance preferred me to periodically reconcile some of our reports manually. When I explained Lance’s procedure to Mr. Bailey, he told me in no uncertain terms that’s not the way of the world anymore.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’m sure something will come along. My hair may be gray, and I may be something of a dinosaur, but I’m not ready to go out to pasture.” She bent toward Sarah. “Enough about me. Tell me, how is your mother?”