Summer mulled it over. “Maybe what we need is an IT guy. Someone who can tell us who’s been on this computer and what they were doing.”
“Probably more expensive than an auditor.”
“Okay. I’m just thinking out loud. What about Mia? Didn’t you say she’s into computers?”
“She is,” Piper said, “but I’m not sure how good she is or how much she can do. But she has a friend who’s amazing. We start there.” Piper pulled her phone out of her bag and called Mia.
Summer focused on the spreadsheet in front of her as Piper spoke with Mia on the phone.
Piper placed her phone on the desk. “She’ll be right over.”
Poppy wandered in. “Someone’s here asking about a Shakespeare folio.”
Summer had almost forgotten. She’d yet to even glance at it. “It’s not for sale.”
Poppy smiled. “Okay.” She left the room.
Soon enough Mia was there with a friend and Agatha.
When Summer explained what the problem was, Agatha laughed.
“What’s so funny? There’s missing money.”
“Have you looked under the desk pad?”
“Why would we?” Piper said.
Agatha lifted the corner and there were several checks dated the end of the month.
Agatha shrugged. “She wrote checks, placed them here for the end of the month. She waited until the last possible moment.”
“Why didn’t Poppy know that?”
“Nobody knew except for us,” Agatha smiled. “I do the same thing. Our parents always had a corner they slid checks under.”
Summer didn’t know whether to be miffed at the innocence of such a practice or just happy that they weren’t being ripped off.
“You look perplexed,” Agatha said. “This is very typical of Hildy. The rest of this clean office is not, however.”
Poppy walked into the room to grab some bookmarks.
“Did you clean this office?” Agatha asked.
“Me? No.”
“Who did?” Summer asked.
“The book group. They were back here the night she died, almost all night.”
“All of them?” Agatha squealed.
“No, just, you know, the inner circle.” She held a stack of colorful bookmarks. “Can I go?”
Agatha nodded.
When she left, the room was silent. Even Mia didn’t say a word.
“What exactly is ‘the inner circle’?” Summer finally said.
“You know. It would be Glads; Marilyn; myself—and I wasn’t here; Bobby Jo, who’s on vacation; and Loretta. Sometimes Henry … It’s not an official thing. The inner circle. It’s just the longest members and her closest friends.”
Summer had forgotten about Loretta. She’s spoken with Glads, had yet to speak with Marilyn or Doris. And she would. She needed to understand why they were in this office cleaning. Who had told them to do such a thing? Would her mom have appreciated these women snooping through her things? They were her closest friends, but it still seemed a bit creepy and invasive. Summer didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Summer strolled through the bookstore one last time before heading home. This was something her mom had always done. And Summer hated it because it meant they weren’t going home just yet. Hildy always found something to fix—an out-of-place book, a left-behind coffee cup, a customer with questions. Summer was better off right now because the general public kind of customer didn’t know she owned the bookstore. So she was incognito, traveling up and down the aisle, straightening books, picking up coffee cups, muttering to herself. What was she going to do? How would she manage the store from her home in Staunton?
Did she even have a job at the university anymore?
The school had sent flowers to her mom’s funeral, but she herself had not heard from one person. She tried not to dwell on it—but it burned.
She needed a bit of clarity from her boss. She also needed clarity on her mom’s death.
She paced the spent cups in the bin for cleaning and moseyed back into the office.
“Are you ready?” Piper said.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They gathered their things and left the cool shelter of the bookstore. The light and heat hit Summer like a slap in the face. “Good god. It’s horrible out here.”
“Funny, isn’t it?” Piper said as she dodged a child running to keep up with his parents. “It’s not nearly as hot as what we used to love. Remember, we couldn’t wait for days like this. Now the heat makes me sick.”
“Me too. I can’t stand it.” Was she thinking of coming back to her small beach town even though she hated the heat? She might not have a choice. She might not have a job. As stupid as it sounded, the spider incident might have been the last straw.
Her last review? She was too tough on the kids—kids supposed to be there for a college education, which these days, seemed to be something you bought, not something you worked at or earned.
She had also not published recently, had not served on enough committees, nor had she offered open office hours. She was also the only female Shakespeare professor in the program. She refused to believe that her troubles were because of that.
As they walked along, Summer spotted the old lemonade trailer that she’d loved as a kind. Best lemonade ever. “Do you want some?” she asked Piper, who was trying to tame her blonde hair by pulling it back into a ponytail.
“Yeah, sure.”
As they walked along with their lemonades, toward the house, a welling of emotions bloomed in Summer’s chest. The lemonade brought her straight back to her youth, a time when she’d had no worries, when all she had was time on her hands, and she still had her mom. She blinked away a tear and gathered herself. Get it together, Summer.
“So good,” Piper said as they walked along, past the church where the funeral had taken place.
“Ah, yes … so what’s the scoop on Poppy? I just considered it strange that Mom’s assistant didn’t know about those checks.”
“Poppy’s sweet. But she’s not the brightest bulb in the pack, if you get my drift.”
“So why did Mom hire her?”
“I’m not sure. She is very good with the customers and knows mysteries. I think she’s started a mystery book group.” She slipped off her shoes as they started walking on the sand toward the neighborhood. “She’s also a single mom.”
Summer slipped off her shoes. The sand felt good and familiar. “Mom was like a beacon for all the single mothers. Which reminds me, I need to visit the women’s shelter. Perhaps she got involved in something there. A domestic dispute?”
“You know she also read to ill people. Kids. Older folks. But mostly people who were terminally ill.” Piper paused. “I don’t understand how she did it. She became very close to people, even though they were going to die.”
Summer warmed. “That sounds like Mom.” She drew in a breath, then released it. “So I doubt any of those folks or their families murdered Mom. But I’m wondering about the women’s shelter. Could she have stepped into something there?”
“That’s a good question. It’s had a hard time of it—lost a bunch of funding and it’s not big enough for state funding. The last I read, it’s very close to being shut down.”
Hildy had said that it was a luxury and a necessity to have the shelter on such a small island. She’d helped get its original funding and volunteered there from the start. Summer needed to stop by and find out if her mother had been involved in any bad domestic situations.
“I’d forgotten how good these lemonades are,” Piper said.
A kite flew across the sky, a young boy trailing after it. Piper and Summer were just about at the path toward the house. As they turned down the path, a rushing movement from one of the seagrass-covered dunes startled Summer. She jumped. But soon enough, a cat revealed itself and set off on its merry way.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Soon after they enter
ed the house, a knock came at the door. Glads and Marilyn arrived with even more food. When Summer opened the door, the two of them entered like it was their home, sashayed straight to the kitchen and found places for the food, rinsed off dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher.
“Ladies, you don’t need to go to all this trouble,” Summer said.
The two of them ignored her as they finished putting things away.
“How are you doing?” Glads said.
The question stopped Summer dead in her tracks. How was she doing? Someone had killed her mother and probably tried to kill her. And she was trying to find a killer. She didn’t have time to worry about how she was doing, did she? Summer shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“How’s the concussion,” Glads persisted.
“Oh that. Yes, it bothers me off and on. I’d like to do more. I have things to do. But I have to watch myself.”
As they women moved around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine, Summer remembered her mom’s office.
“Why was my mom’s office cleaned after she died?”
Piper stopped pouring a drink and looked up. Glads shut the refrigerator door and spun around. “I told them not to do it. They wouldn’t listen.”
“It was Doris’s idea. She said she didn’t think Hildy would want to leave behind such a mess. It’s a time-honored Southern tradition to clean after someone passes away,” Marilyn said.
“It is?” Summer said. “I never heard of that. But in any case, what happened to all of her stuff that was there?”
“It wasn’t anything … just junk. Most of it we pitched because it was stuff nobody needed.”
Summer felt her pulse in her temples. She tried to choose her words carefully. “Who decided what to trash and what not to trash?”
Marilyn wiped off the counter with a paper towel. “It was clear what was trash and what wasn’t. Your mother hung on to everything, and these days a lot of it is on the computer. We pitched nothing important. We filed it all. So if there is something you’re looking for, it should be in the file cabinet.”
Unless it’s something I don’t know I’m looking for, Summer inwardly fumed.
“Did we overstep? I’m sorry. We were trying to be helpful,” Marilyn said. “I’m sorry I can’t stay. I’ve been corralled into cleaning the library tonight. Our service is on vacation.” She placed her hands on her hips, and an iris peeked out from her collar bone.
These women were always cleaning or cooking or delivering food or helping in some other way. Summer felt a pang of guilt for any thread of suspicion she held against any of them And yet … they were some of the people who had direct access, and things were not always as they appeared.
“I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful. It was startling to walk in and see such a clean office, realizing what a mess Mom was.”
“It wasn’t a dirty mess, though. It was a happy mess, you know?” Glads said with a winsome note in her voice. Red splotches forming on her cheeks, around her eyes. She was trying not to cry.
“Oh, Glads,” Summer said and reached out for her. “We’re all just doing the best we can. It’s okay to cry.” Marilyn buried her head into Summer’s shoulder. Finally, sniffing, she pulled away.
“I just don’t see how things will go on without her. She was the center of everything … one of my best friends,” she argued with wildly gesturing arms. “I don’t understand any of it.” She sniffed again and Piper handed her a box of tissue.
Summer wanted to pull them into the fold. But she wasn’t sure how to approach it. “Do you two have time to sit down?”
“No, no, we’ve got to go. But we’ll see you at the book club meeting tomorrow, right?”
“Is that tomorrow? I’ve not finished the book.”
Summer felt a brief surge of panic, as if she realized she’d not studied for a huge test.
Glads laughed and waved her off. “It doesn’t matter. Sometimes you just can’t do it. As long as you’ve read most of it, you can take part in the discussion. No worries.”
Summer smiled back at her. Well, that was good to know, but she definitely felt the urge to finish the book now. Besides, she wanted to know how it’d end, and she despised other people telling her. She even despised that she wanted to know how it ended. It was like good chocolate candy—she couldn’t stop herself. Was it like an addiction? Was that the secret sauce for romances selling so well? She wanted to research it. And she would. But now, Piper was reheating crab cakes that Marilyn and Glads had brought, and the scent was distracting.
“We’ve got to run,” Glads said. “If you need anything, let us know.”
Summer nodded. “Thank you, ladies. Those crab cakes ought to hit the spot.”
After they exited, Piper spun around to face Summer. “I noticed a few things. Did you?”
Summer reached up into the cupboard for plates. “Like what?”
“Doris is never with them anymore, and it was her idea to clean the office. I wonder if they had a falling out.”
“I don’t think so. Her husband is ill. She may just be busy.”
Piper placed the crab cakes on the plate, the scent filling the room. “There’s something about Doris I don’t like. I always talk myself out of not liking someone. But …”
Summer shrugged. “You can’t like everyone. No matter how hard you try.”
“I had no idea your mother was so close to Marilyn.” Piper sat down at the table.
“Oh yes. Marilyn, Glads, Posey, Aunt Agatha. They formed the romance readers book club twenty-some years ago. Mom was close to all of them. They were like an army, the way they worked together, stood up for one another, had each other’s backs. It was pretty amazing.”
Piper cleared her throat. “Mom used to say you’re lucky if you find one true friend in your life. Seems like these women are a lucky bunch.”
“Indeed.”
* * *
Many women weren’t so lucky. Summer stood in front of the St. Brigid women’s shelter. Its parking lot was forlorn, with only three cars, and one of them looked dangerously dilapidated. The green paint on the building was peeling and cracking.
Summer pushed the door open. The lobby was clear, but there was a brown-skinned woman at the reception area. She looked up at Summer. “Hello. How can I help you?
“I’m here about my mother.”
Her head tilted, and she leaned forward. “Is she in some kind of trouble?” She reached for papers.
“No. Well. Sort of. My mom is dead. And she was a volunteer here.”
“Do you mean Hildy Merriweather?”
“Yes, she was my mother.”
“You must be Summer. I’m Keri. Have a seat,” she said, cracking a smile. “We’d not seen your mother in a while. I was so sorry to hear of her passing.”
Summer sat. “Thank you.”
The phone rang. “Just a moment, please.”
Keri answered the phone, and Summer tried not to listen to the conversation. She looked around the office. There was a poster titled “Is It Abuse?” Another poster had the title “Suspect Neglect?”
“You need to come in,” Summer overheard the receptionist say. “I know it’s hard.”
Summer busied herself with a piece of lint on her jeans. Finally, the woman hung up.
“Sorry,” she said. “Now, how can I help you?”
“I was wondering if my mom had gotten involved with any—I don’t know— dangerous situations?”
Keri’s brows knitted.
“She received threats before she died,” Summer continued.
“All the work we do here is anonymous. She never used her real name.”
Oh.
“Well, I didn’t know that.” Summer paused. “But this island is small, and my mom was sort of popular, out in the community a lot. Bookstore owner. You know.”
Keri nodded. “I suppose it’s possible. But most of the population here are victims, not perpetrators. I don’t know if she ever met any of the perps. In fact, s
he mostly just provided books. We have a whole library stocked by your mother.”
Summer’s heart flicked.
“She took women to doctor’s and lawyer’s appointments—things like that.”
“Can you think of anybody here she came into contact with who might have wanted to hurt her?”
Keri frowned. “Not specifically, no. and as I mentioned earlier, she’d not been around in a while. Months, I’d say.”
Strange.
“But Mom loved it here. Why wasn’t she around?”
The woman shrugged. “Sometimes we counsel our volunteers to take time off. It gets to be hard on them. Your mother volunteered here for a long time. Maybe she just needed a break.”
“Did you counsel her to take a break?”
“No, I didn’t. Not specifically. Look, what exactly do you need to know? I’ve got an appointment coming in about fifteen.”
Summer leaned in. “I think my mom was murdered.”
The woman’s face drained of blood. “What makes you say that?”
For the first time since Summer had begun this investigation, here was a person who took her seriously.
“She received these threats on her life. She was a healthy woman, and they are trying to say she died of a heart attack. I think it was something more.”
The woman leaned back into her chair. “Hmm. “
“Do you think I’m crazy, like everybody else?” Summer tried to smile.
“One thing I’ve learned in this business is that people are troubled and do awful things. Another thing I’ve learned is to trust your instincts.” She paused. “I can’t tell you how many women come here saying if only they’d listened to that little voice in their head from the start. So, no, I don’t think you’re crazy.”
The phone rang again. “Excuse me.”
Was she the only staff member here? Summer didn’t see or hear anyone else. There more offices tucked back inside the building, she was sure. But were there people in them?
“I told you the center is having some difficulties, but the check is on the way,” Keri said and hung up. She glanced up at Summer. “Now, where were we?”
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