Fatal, Family, Album

by Joanna Campbell Slan

  “Of course. Please give him our best.”

  After she left, Clancy continued taking inventory, spending most of her time out on the sales floor. She and Curtis developed an easy camaraderie, allowing her to direct his efforts while she did what we needed to make our insurance claim.

  ~*~

  At four, we heard an insistent pounding on the back door. I opened it and Lee Alderton stumbled in. If I hadn’t grabbed her by the arm, she would have done a face-plant.

  “Lee? You okay?” I slipped an arm around her waist and led her to a chair. Lee sat down with a plunk that suggested she was about to keel over.

  Her knit scarf had been pulled up around her face like a cowl. You could barely see her features. With mittened hands, she pulled it down. A pair of red-rimmed eyes and a nose suitable for Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer appeared. Red blotches marred her skin.

  “Lee? Are you all right?” I crouched beside her chair. Seeing the normally competent woman this discombobulated had me worried.

  She looked at me as if seeing me for the first time. After blinking a couple of times, she seemed to get a hold of herself. “You have to swear not to tell anyone. Promise?”

  Rebekkah, Clancy, and I raised our right hands and promised to keep our mouths shut.

  “I just met with Fareed. We have a problem. A big problem. The cashier’s check that he and Nancy co-signed for a million dollars is missing.”

  “A cashier’s check for a million dollars?” Clancy’s voice was a notch higher than usual. “And you lost it?”

  Lee explained how Zoo Keepers had been doing fundraising all year, tapping big donors, hosting events, and asking for pledges. “It was Nancy’s dream to give a substantial amount to the Tusk Trust, the prince’s own conservation organization. She wanted to personally hand that check to Prince William.”

  “It’s missing? Who had it last?” I asked.

  “Fareed and Nancy showed it off at our board meeting. They’d gone together to the bank, signed for it, and brought it back so the board could see it. It’s the culmination of three years’ work. We all signed a card for the prince. Nancy tucked the check inside the card and put it in her purse. Since she’s the longest serving board member, she would see her dream come true. She and Fareed were going to personally hand it to Prince William after his speech in the Coronado Ballroom.”

  “So you actually saw it at your board meeting. Did you watch Nancy put it in her purse?”

  “Yes. We all did. She was going to take it home and lock it in a wall safe.”

  “The news reports said that nothing was missing from Nancy’s car, but they could have been misinformed. Sometimes the police hold back information. Lee, do you know whether Nancy had the check on her person when she was shot?”

  “I don’t know, but I would assume so. She must have gone directly from our board meeting to Ferguson.” Lee dabbed her eyes with a paper napkin.

  I really needed to keep a box of tissues back here. Either that, or we all needed to quit crying.

  Lee continued, “The last we saw of the check was when Nancy tucked it inside the card and put the card in her purse. Fareed is going to the police as we speak, but he suspects that the person who shot Nancy took the cashier’s check.”

  “Okay, then,” Clancy said. I could see she was shifting into her practical mode. “Just call the bank and stop the payment.”

  “We can’t.”

  “If they won’t do it over the phone, get there tomorrow when the bank opens and—”

  Lee waved the suggestion away. “It doesn’t work like that. The whole point of a cashier’s check is that it’s just like having cash in your hand. The money to back it up is held in escrow. If a bank does not honor the cashier’s check, they get fined.”

  “Back up a minute,” I said. “Are you one hundred percent positive that’s correct? About the cashier’s check being like cash?”

  “Absolutely.” Lee sniffed and dabbed her eyes again. “Fareed even put the bank president on speaker phone so we could both ask him questions.”

  “Then you’re telling us that somebody killed and robbed Nancy for a piece of paper worth a million bucks?”

  “No,” and Lee sobbed. “It’s not really about the money. You have to have a payee or the bank won’t write a cashier’s check. We had the payee. It’s the Tusk Trust.”

  “So no one can deposit that check but the Tusk Trust. And that’s who was supposed to get it, right?”

  “Right, but that’s not the problem.”

  Now I was totally confused. “Okay, I’m officially lost.”

  Clancy went over to the refrigerator, grabbed a Diet Dr Pepper, popped the top, and handed it to Lee. “Drink this. Collect yourself. Start over.”

  “I’ll have one, too,” I said, but I didn’t get up.

  “Aren’t you over your limit?” Clancy gave me a querying look.

  I hopped to my feet and marched past her to the refrigerator. Once there, I grabbed can of my favorite cola. “Ty will just have to deal with it.”

  Several fortifying sips later, Lee had calmed down. “Okay. Take two. Here goes. Fareed and Nancy are—were—authorized signatories for the Zoo Keepers. They went to our bank and had a cashier’s check made out to the Tusk Trust. That’s the conservation trust that the prince started. They got the check because we wanted to give it to Prince William. He knows it’s coming. That’s a big reason he is flying to St. Louis. So he can officially receive the check. Are you with me so far?”

  We nodded.

  “The funds backing up a cashier’s check are held in escrow. When a cashier’s check is presented, the bank receiving it must honor it just as though cash was being exchanged. So you can’t stop payment on a cashier’s check, because you can’t stop payment on a dollar bill, right?”

  “Right,” I agreed.

  “Nancy and Fareed brought the cashier’s check to our meeting so everyone could see it. After all, it’s not every day you write a check for a million dollars to a worthy cause. While we watched, Nancy put it inside a card. She put the card in her purse. She drove to Ferguson and was killed. Now the check and the card are missing.”

  “And that’s why you’re upset. Because the check is missing, right?”

  Lee gave an exasperated sigh. “Not exactly. No one can do anything with that check except to deposit it in the Tusk Trust. That check is worthless to anybody but the Tusk Trust.”

  “So what’s the big deal?” I asked, rolling over my palms.

  Clancy shuddered. “I’ll tell you what the big deal is. Prince William and his wife are flying here to accept a check that’s gone missing. He’s making this trip, which is a huge big deal, and Zoo Keepers won’t be able to deliver on their promise.”

  “Yes!” Lee nearly jumped out of her chair. “You’ve got it. And that’s not the worst part. The very, very worst part is that the event is sold out. Every place at every table will be filled with someone who paid $1000-a-plate to see that check delivered. Many of the biggest donors were promised a photo op with the royals.”

  Suddenly the problem was really clear to me. “And there’s going to be a lot of egg on everyone’s face.”

  That brought Lee to her feet, and she gestured wildly with both hands. “We will lose all kinds of face with those patrons. They will never, ever want to make a contribution to Zoo Keepers again. Why would they? We’ll look like we were careless with their money! And here’s another kick in the shins: What does Fareed do? Get up there and hand the prince an empty envelope with an IOU inside? Does he say, ‘Yes, we dragged you out here to the Heartland, Your Highness, but no, we can’t come up with the money we promised you. How about a train ride around our zoo. Isn’t that a fair trade?’”

  I was still stuck on the do-re-mi. “But eventually you can get the money. Am I right?”

  “Yes. The key word is eventually. We can take out an indemnity bond for the amount. However, most banks won’t reissue the cashier’s check for 30 to 90 days. I doubt
that Prince William will hang around St. Louis that long.”

  “How many people are scheduled to attend the dinner event?”

  “Two hundred.” Lee buried her face in her hands. Through her fingers, she said, “The cream of St. Louis society. All the major philanthropists. Every big donor we’ve ever tapped. And we’re going to look like such a bunch of idiots.”

  “Could be worse.” Clancy ran a fingertip around the rim of her coffee cup. “You might look like idiots, but at least you’re still alive. Nancy Owens was killed for a check that can’t even be cashed. I wonder if her killer knew that?”

  I couldn’t even go there. Was it possible that Nancy had been the ultimate victim of a senseless crime?

  “In the meantime, you have to do as the Brits did in the war,” Clancy said. “Keep calm and carry on.”

  “You’re right.” Lee nodded. “That’s a great motto. Fingers crossed that someone tries to cash that check. All the banks have been alerted. Maybe we’ll get it back somehow. Maybe.”

  “Look, Lee, I can’t replace the money you’ve lost, but I can do my part. I’ll dedicate all the proceeds from the crop on Friday night to Zoo Keepers.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” For the first time since she’d arrived, Lee managed a smile. “Let me check with Fareed, just to make sure it’s okay. I bet we can send out a notice to all our members and donors. Maybe some of them will come.”

  Trust Clancy to rein me in and be sensible. “We can’t accommodate more than 30 people at a time.”

  “Okay, but I can make page kits, and those are only limited by the amount of stock we have. What about if I create a page kit that Zoo Keepers can promote to their mailing list? I’ll focus on Prince William’s visit, which will give people a really great reason to get this particular kit. We’ll donate everything we make off it except for the cost of the supplies.”

  Lee’s smile grew bigger. “That’s wonderful. We have brochures that explain our mission. Can I bring them for you to pass out?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Do you have any donation forms?” Clancy asked. “Those would really get you the most bang for your efforts. Maybe paperwork explaining how bequests and gifts work? There might even be a big donor out there who’ll be persuaded to change his or her will. I remember when I worked with the board of a non-profit. We kept hitting up the same people over and over for money. Linking your requests to people who want to save their memories of William and Kate’s visit might expand your audience.”

  Before she left Lee dispensed hugs all around. “Keep calm and carry on,” she kept repeating. It was as if that slogan had become her new mantra.

  ~*~

  By five o’clock, I was drained, literally and figuratively. Clancy shook a finger in my face. “You are going to wear yourself out and then get sick.”

  “I know, I know.”

  My car was freezing when I climbed in. The tires didn’t want to move. They were frozen to the parking lot. Slowly I moved forward, hearing the crunch of snow beneath my tread.

  I waved to Clancy and Curtis and hit the road feeling bluer than the ocean on a perfect summer day. I missed Anya so much! Sheila once told me that she thanked her lucky stars that she’d had a boy and not a girl. “Girls are harder to raise than boys. Women can be much more vicious because we’re more attuned to pleasing people. We know what will really, really hurt.”

  That got me thinking back to that night at the Webster Groves Library when Nancy Owens asked me if I had time for a coffee. In retrospect, I was really glad that I had made the time for her.

  We drove separately to the closest coffee shop, a little place call Java Java Ging Ging Ging. I’d never been there before, but Nancy said it was nice.

  My first impression was that I’d walked into a dollhouse, the shop was that cute. White squares trimmed with lace sat on top of red-and-white gingham table skirts. The white table settings were framed by black mats. White damask napkins were cinched by black, red, and white braided ribbons. One of those comical black cat clocks, the kind with a tail that swings back and forth, watched us from one wall. Other walls were decorated with black silhouettes on white paper, framed in black. An efficient young woman with a cute bobbed hairstyle swished out of the kitchen. A frilly white underskirt peeped out from under her red-and-white gingham skirt, but her simple black tee shirt added an edgy vibe.

  “Hiya,” she said as she slid menus our way.

  I hadn’t intended on eating, but the Peanut Butter Rice Crispy Treats sounded fabulous, so I ordered one along with a cup of decaf. Nancy ordered Fudgy Healthy Brownies, made with black beans! She ordered regular coffee.

  “Won’t you have trouble sleeping?” I asked Nancy as the waitress walked away.

  “I never sleep. I can’t. She won’t let me.”

  “She?”

  “Rochelle. My stepdaughter. She makes certain I never get any sleep. My husband can sleep through anything. A freight train could plow right through our bedroom, and Bert wouldn’t wake up. But I’m a light sleeper. Rochelle figured that out right away. She’s certainly using that knowledge to her advantage.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Rochelle has decided to torture me by keeping me up. She sets our alarm clocks to go off in the middle of the night. She rattles the doorknob at odd hours. She turns the heat up or down. She calls my husband on his cell phone at three a.m. When he doesn’t answer, she calls mine. I don’t think I’ve had more than four consecutive hours of sleep since Bert and I got married.”

  “She’s doing this on purpose?”

  “Absolutely. She’s admitted as much to me.”

  “Your husband lets her get away with this?”

  “He doesn’t believe it’s happening. He says I’m overreacting.”

  I knew what sleep deprivation could do to you. There’s a reason it’s a technique used to torture people. Lack of sleep can seriously mess with your head and wear you down physically. New research suggests that your brain actually begins to eat itself when you go too long without sleep. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  Nancy gave me a weak smile. “I could go away. Divorce her dad. Drop dead.”

  “Here you go.” Our waitress slid our desserts onto the table. “Be right back to warm up your coffee.”

  “You’re a widow, aren’t you, Kiki? But you’re obviously in a relationship.”

  “Yes, the belly bump is a dead giveaway, isn’t it? My first husband was murdered.”

  “I remember that! Was your partner married before, too?”

  “Twice. And we got married on December 27th. I’m not wearing my ring because my hands are swollen.”

  “Does your husband have any children?”

  “That’s complicated.” I explained how Detweiler’s first wife had cheated on him, but run off when she discovered she was pregnant. “Erik is legally Detweiler’s child, but not biologically.”

  “How old is Erik?”

  “Five. I have to say that he’s integrated well into his new life. He adores his older sister, Anya, and now the kids are both excited about the arrival of our new baby. Detweiler always wanted a lot of children. Seems like we’re on our way to raising quite a brood.”

  Nancy’s next comment surprised me. “Be careful what you wish for,” she said. “My grandmother always told me that, and I didn’t listen. But she was right. Truer words have never been spoken.”

  “Huh?” I wasn’t sure that I understood. I could feel the intensity of her gaze as her mouth turned down in an angry grimace. Confusion set in, and I wondered if somehow I’d offended her. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No,” she said as she brushed away my question. “Not at all. It’s just that I felt exactly like you. I thought my handsome prince would come along, and our love would conquer all obstacles.”

  “But it didn’t?”

  “Ha! It not only failed at conquering obstacles, it dragged along its own ugly bag of garbage. Let me give you a b
it of unsolicited advice. Are you ready? Listen carefully. Never, ever marry a man who has a teenage daughter from a previous marriage. Ever. Especially if that man feels guilty about his divorce. And if his daughter despises you, don’t even try to make things work. Trust me. He will always choose her over you. You and your marriage are doomed from the start.”

  “Wow.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I repeated myself with, “Wow.”

  I turned the subject to other topics. To an outsider, I probably sounded like I was giving a commercial for my store. That’s because I didn’t know what to say to Nancy. I didn’t want to share more about my marriage. I wasn’t interested in hearing how Detweiler and I couldn’t possibly hope for a happy future together. Now I keenly regretted that I had agreed to spend more time with Nancy. Here I’d thought of her as a sweet woman who just needed a shoulder to cry on, and instead, I’d gone for coffee with an unhappy person, who had cheerfully predicted that my marriage was doomed.

  When the waitress set down our bill, I snatched it up. I didn’t want to linger here any longer. I paid for it with a twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change,” I told our waitress, hoping that this would speed our exit. But Nancy obviously wanted to linger. She took her time putting on her coat. To head off any more unpleasant glimpses into my future, I turned the conversation back to her.

  “So you married Bert Owens, thinking his daughter would get over it? But she hasn’t?”

  “I fell in love with Bert for many reasons, not the least of which was how much he adored his daughter. That was my mistake. I thought that if he could love me half as much, I’d be happy. But Rochelle wasn’t willing to share her father. She liked being Daddy’s Little Princess, and she resents every second he spent with me.”

  “Have you tried counseling?” I stood to indicate I was ready to leave. Because Nancy didn’t, I added, “I need to be getting back.”

  “Bert isn’t interested in counseling. He says it’s natural for him to love his daughter, and that she’s just having trouble adjusting. Bert still feels guilty for divorcing Rochelle’s mother. Of course, Rochelle plays on that.”