“Isn’t modern technology wonderful?” Mom beamed with pleasure. “We’ll have all the information we need in just a few seconds.”
She sounded so calm, and maybe she really was. Maybe her aura had been fluffed and buffed, and all of her chakras and meridians were tuned and aligned up the wazoo. But I had a feeling that she wasn’t really all that cheerful deep inside and she was putting on the show for everyone else. However she’d managed to accomplish that impression of pure serenity, I wanted to know her secret.
I scanned the room, looking at the faces of the people sitting around the table. I studied their expressions and whether or not they made eye contact with others at the table. Were they nervous? Happy? Suspicious?
I wondered, because it occurred to me once again that if Jacob Banyan didn’t kill Lawson Schmidt, then someone in this room must have done it. There was no doubt that the murder was connected to the book festival. Why else would Lawson have been murdered inside the committee’s own meeting room?
Had someone on the committee made promises to Banyan that they weren’t able to keep? Had Lawson himself tried to make a deal to include Banyan and then had to back out of it when my mother adamantly refused to let him participate?
It was possible. And if so, then that same person had probably stolen Lawson’s money and his wallet.
If it wasn’t a straightforward robbery, then maybe Lawson was being threatened. Or blackmailed. But why? There were too many possibilities and not enough answers.
“Hmm,” Winston muttered, bringing me out of my doomsday reverie. I seriously hoped they found all the money in the bank because I really didn’t want my mother to be confronted with the ugly facts as I saw them.
Winston continued to stare at the computer screen and was tapping the keys so quickly, it was impossible to follow the keystrokes.
I held my breath as I watched my mother. I knew she was trying to cling to that calm façade, but I could see her jaw begin to tighten as she stared at the computer screen.
I was too nervous to sit still so I stood up. Derek joined me, and then Meg stood and grabbed my hand. I knew she was worried about my mom. We all felt the same way.
Everyone at the table had begun to move and within seconds they all stood behind my mother and Winston, trying to get a look at the computer screen. Nobody was talking—a miracle, I thought. They were just staring, watching, and wondering what Winston and my mother had discovered. They are so quiet, it can’t be good, I thought. But Mom kept staring at the screen, and Winston kept clicking those keys.
“Sorry it’s taking so long,” Winston said. “I’ve never accessed the account from this computer so the bank had to send my email a code to verify that I’m the person I say I am.”
Mom’s throat had to have dried up because I was having the same problem with mine. I pulled my water bottle from my bag and carried it over to her.
“Drink this,” I murmured.
Her eyes were filled with apprehension, but she tried to smile. “Thanks, sweetie.”
Up close I could see a pale vein pulsing along the side of her forehead. She had to be completely stressed out. She took a couple of sips of water and handed the bottle back to me. “Thank you.”
Winston pointed to a number on the screen. “Do you see this?”
Mom nodded. “Yes.”
“See what?” Jan asked finally. “What’s going on? How’s it looking?”
I tore my gaze from the computer screen to look up at Derek. As it turned out, I wasn’t cynical. I was psychic.
Mom took another deep breath, rolled her shoulders, and shook her hair back, trying to regain some of that cool, calm composure of a few minutes ago. Still gazing at the screen, she murmured, “The festival account appears to have been emptied.”
Then she turned and faced everyone who’d been waiting anxiously behind her. “To put it bluntly, we’ve been robbed.”
Chapter 8
“Maybe it’s just a mistake in the online system,” Jan said, always the optimist.
Sue frowned at Winston. “Are you sure you have the right password and account number?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Winston glanced up, and his face was a study in fear and misery. “We got into the account just fine. You can see for yourself.”
“Show me,” Sue said.
Winston moved the computer over a few inches and angled it toward Sue, who bent over, blinked a few times, and then squinted at the computer screen. The account name was right there and easy enough to read. There was no mistake.
After a few seconds, she straightened up and gulped. Her eyes were wide with incredulity. “I can’t believe it. It shows a zero balance.”
“Right,” Winston said. He clicked on one of the pull-down menus. “And if you go into the account and look up the daily transactions,” he clicked on the screen again, then pointed for everyone to see, “you’ll find that there was seventy thousand dollars in the account just four days ago.”
There were shocked cries and groans as everyone moved closer to check for themselves.
“Then you go up to the next day,” Winston continued, still pointing with his cursor. “Here. And there’s a withdrawal of six thousand dollars.”
“Right,” Mom said. She touched the screen on the next line. “And here’s another withdrawal of twenty thousand the day after that.”
“Oh my God,” Jan whispered. “It’s a nightmare.”
“Yeah,” Winston said as he scrolled down. “Day after that, there’s a twelve thousand dollar withdrawal.”
“Jeez Louise,” Ryan said.
Winston turned around and met the gazes of everyone standing behind him. “Finally, yesterday, they withdrew the rest of the money.” He looked back at the screen. “Thirty-two thousand dollars.”
“Nooo,” Marybeth moaned.
“But Winston,” Jan said, hoping against hope. “Don’t you think there could be a mistake somewhere? That kind of thing happens, right?”
Winston shrugged. “Sure.”
But everyone knew he was just placating us.
“Of course it happens,” Mom said, her voice remaining calm even though she kept sneaking glances at Derek and Meg and me. I wasn’t sure why. Did she want us to grab her and whisk her out of there? Or explain why the computer screen could be wrong? Or stand guard around her? I would be happy to do any of those things, but I doubted she needed that. What she needed were some answers. And none of us had any.
But I decided to give it a try. “Did you take a look at the spreadsheet, Mom? Does that give any clues?”
Winston glanced from me to Mom. “It might help. It’s supposed to list every single expenditure we’ve made since we first started. Maybe it’ll show that Lawson paid off a bunch of vendors at one time. That’s the only explanation I can think of.”
“Let’s take a look, Winston,” Mom said, willing to try anything at this point.
He reached for the manila envelope and pulled out the stapled sheet of papers. “Do you want me to read the whole thing or pass it around or what?”
“We should all have a copy,” Jan said.
“I agree.” Mom checked her watch. “When the meeting’s over, I’ll take it over to Melissa and get enough copies made for everyone. We can all look through it tonight and meet back here tomorrow to discuss our options.”
“What options?” Saffron demanded. “We’re out of money. We’re screwed. We’ll have to cancel the festival.”
“Wow, Debbie Downer strikes again,” Sue said.
Marybeth scowled at Saffron. “Yeah, stop being such a—a negative Nelly. We’ll simply find another underwriter and keep going.”
That couldn’t be as easy as she made it sound.
Saffron seemed to agree. “There’s seventy thousand dollars missing. I’m not negative; I’m just realistic.”
�
�You can be both,” Winston muttered under his breath.
“There’s also a chance that we can recover the money,” Mom said, still trying for positivity. “Maybe the money was transferred to another account. Maybe Lawson used it to pay off some suppliers as Winston suggested, but . . .” That was a stretch. If Lawson had been writing checks, it would be there on the account record. But cheers to Mom for trying.
Mom sighed then. “I’ll call the police when I get home and see if they’ll help us track down the funds.”
Saffron threw up her hands. “But what if Lawson stole the money and just spent it all?”
“That’s certainly a possibility,” Mom allowed. “But meanwhile, let’s all try not to freak out. We’ll find a way to fix this.”
“I’m so glad you’re in charge, Becky,” Sue said, patting Mom on the back. “You’re always so cool and calm, while I’m just about to blow a gasket.”
“I don’t know, Sue.” Jan grinned. “You’re pretty laid-back yourself.”
“Yeah,” she said, with a giggle. “But my vibe is from the drugs. Becky’s on a natural high.”
Everyone laughed, relieving some of the intense stress. For the moment anyway.
“I know it’s getting late,” Mom said, “but I have one more short agenda item to go over.”
There was some minor grousing, but everyone scrambled back to their seats, anxious to finish up the meeting and get home.
“It concerns our Louisa May Alcott scholar,” Mom said. “She’ll be here in a few days and I know Lawson wouldn’t want us to upset her, so I would appreciate if none of us would mention the murder to her. She’s a special guest in our town.”
“She’s going to hear about it one way or another,” Winston said dolefully.
“And Lawson was her contact, right?” Marybeth said. “We won’t be able to hide the facts.”
“Plus, she’s an academic,” Jan said. “They soak up information like a damn sponge.”
Mom nodded. “True. We can’t do anything about it if she reads it in the newspaper or hears it out on the street. But I don’t want our committee members feeding the fear. Agreed?”
“Sure,” Ryan said.
Sue nodded. “Yeah, okay. Let’s not be the ones to blow her mind from the get-go.”
Mom suggested that they go around the table to hear everyone’s feelings on the subject. The rest of the group agreed that the committee should only spread joy and happiness—except for Saffron who didn’t bother to weigh in. She just scowled at everyone else’s comments. The woman had no joy to spread anyway so her opinion didn’t matter. But I didn’t know how the rest of the committee could take her crappy attitude in stride.
“We done here?” Winston asked.
“Yes.” Mom banged the gavel. “We’ll meet back here tomorrow at two thirty.”
Winston held up the pages of the spreadsheet. “I’ll go get those copies made.”
Mom’s shoulders sagged in relief and I knew she’d forgotten about the spreadsheet. “Thanks, Win.”
“I’m going to take off now,” Jan said, “but I’ll stop by Win’s house later tonight and get my copy.”
“Whatever works for you,” Mom said.
A couple of others decided to do the same and the room began to clear. When the rest of the group had left, Ryan gathered his belongings and approached Mom. He looked like a college kid in a polo shirt and khakis, carrying his books. The guy was born to wear khakis, I thought, and then noticed the wiry muscles of his arms. I hadn’t realized how ripped he was. But then, he worked as Shandi’s bodyguard, so it made sense.
I glanced back at Derek and Meg. “I’m going to wait for Mom. I can meet you outside.”
“We’ll wait with you,” Meg said, and sat down again.
“Mrs. Wainwright,” Ryan said. “I was hoping I could talk to you for just a moment. It’s personal.”
I noticed he was the only committee member who addressed my mother that way. Was it because he was so much younger than her? Or was it just the way he was raised? It was sort of charming, either way.
Mom gave him a sweet smile. “Of course, Ryan. What’s going on?”
“I know it’s getting close to festival time, but I wanted to ask if you could appeal to your daughter London to recast the musical and put Shandi in another role.”
Mom stared at him for a long moment as if she didn’t comprehend what he was asking.
Frankly, I was a little mystified myself.
Mom considered for a moment. “But Shandi is playing Marmee, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” he said, clearly disheartened.
Hmm. Was this because the beautiful Shandi was annoyed that she’d been relegated to the role of mother to four teenaged girls? I remembered when Annie first told me about the casting, I’d wondered if the Diva would hate playing that role. Looked like I was right.
“But Marmee is a wonderful role,” Mom said brightly. “She’s one of the great characters in American literature. She’s highly principled, a good worker, and strong. She’s cheerful in the face of adversity and she’s unconventional in a wonderfully enlightened way.”
“Yes, yes,” Ryan said impatiently, “but she’s old.”
“She’s a . . . mother,” Mom said carefully.
He shook his head. “You don’t understand.” He took a deep breath and seemed to gather strength to continue his argument. “Shandi is practically an ingénue. She has a reputation to uphold and a huge fan base, many of whom will show up to spend money at the festival. They’re going to want to see her in a much larger role.”
“Marmee is one of the stars of the show.”
He waved off that fact. “Shandi wants to play Jo.”
Mom frowned. “Jo? I thought in the beginning she was interested in playing Meg.”
He made a sour face. “After reading the script we realized that Meg is too boring. She’s always following the rules and is just too goodie-goodie for Shandi. Whereas Jo is more fun! More full of life. And that’s Shandi to a T.”
I heard someone gasp. Turning, I saw our Meg, Derek’s mom, looking apoplectic. Was she choking? But Derek took her hand and she seemed to recover.
“I’m sorry, Ryan,” Mom said gently. “But none of the four girls would be a suitable role for Shandi. She’s a lovely woman and a delightful actress, but let’s be honest. I mean no offense, but she’s no spring chicken. And she’s definitely not an ingénue.”
He gasped. “That’s simply not true, Mrs. Wainwright,” he said quietly. “Shandi is an accomplished actress of stage and screen. She can play any role you throw at her. I know it’s late notice, but she’s a very quick study and a tremendous talent. She’s been working in movies for years.”
Mom winced. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’ve just made my point. She’s been around for years, which makes her simply too old to play a teenager.”
“That’s just mean,” Ryan said.
“No, that’s reality. And it’s life.” Mom reached out and touched his arm. “I truly don’t want to hurt any feelings. I’m just being honest.”
“But it’s not fair,” he said, almost desperate now. “She can play anything. She’s a transformational talent. And besides, she’s a whiz with makeup. She can make it work.”
“Of course she can,” Mom said, smiling as she tried to soothe his injured spirit. “Shandi really is a wonderful talent. But on a practical note, the show opens in less than a week and it only runs for one night. I’m fairly certain London won’t be willing or able to make a change at this late date. And honestly, Shandi’s a professional. She’ll understand. And she’ll get over it.”
He looked miserable. Poor guy, I thought. I hoped Shandi wasn’t going to punish him for failing to wrangle the role of Jo from my mother or London.
“Tell you what,” Mom said. “If Shandi would like to talk a
bout it, I’ll be happy to explain why we can’t make changes this late in the game. I’m sure she understands how complicated it would be. She’s a professional, so I think she’ll be fine. My hope is that the musical will be the joyous high note to close the festival. Any hurt feelings would ruin that moment.”
He blew out a breath. “I’ll see what Shandi wants to do.”
“All right, dear.” Mom patted his shoulder. “I must say, you’re a wonderful advocate for Shandi. I hope she appreciates all you do for her.”
“She’s very good to me,” he said earnestly. “Thank you, Mrs. Wainwright.”
But as he walked away, I could see that he was still troubled. Would Shandi give him grief over this silly issue?
As soon as Ryan left the room, Meg walked over to the table. “What nerve!”
Mom looked at her, bewildered. “What’s wrong, Meg? What happened?”
I stared up at Derek who shrugged, clearly clueless.
“That young man said horrible things about a beloved character in a wonderful book.”
Mom patted Meg’s hand. “I know just how you feel. Marmee truly is beloved in literature.”
Meg was still frowning though, so I stepped a little closer to Mom. “I think our Meg is steamed that Ryan dumped on the Little Women Meg.”
Did that make any sense at all? I had to wonder.
“Oh, sweetie.” Mom laughed and grabbed Meg in a tight hug. “Oh, my dear friend. Please don’t be offended. He’s a silly boy who doesn’t know his ass from his elbow. You mustn’t take it personally.”
“Well, I did,” she groused.
Mom held her at arm’s length, met her gaze, and smiled. “They’re all crazy, didn’t you know?”
After a long moment, Meg nodded solemnly. “Ah yes. They’re all crazy, ‘except for thee and me.’”
They laughed together, tickled by the fact that they both recognized the quote. Then they hugged again and my heart skipped a little. They were truly sisters of the heart and I was so happy they’d found each other.
The Grim Reader Page 13