Nancy groaned. “Oh God, what a mess. I’ll get right on this and see how much trouble we’re in. Did you call about a real accountant?”
Anne nodded. “This morning. Mavis said she’d ask her son if he could take us on at a reduced rate.”
“Thank goodness. I can unsnarl some of this, but a professional is the only answer.”
“I just hope the IRS doesn’t come after us.”
“They will. They always do.”
“Uh, how was your date last night?”
“He took me to Giovanni’s.”
“Good choice. Shows he’s trying to impress you. What movie did you see?”
Nancy shot her a sidelong glance. “What is this—the third degree?”
“Just curious, that’s all.”
“Well, if you must know, we never got around to going. We ended up at my place.”
Anne folded her arms across her chest and repressed a grin. “Your place? Good grief, did you sleep with him?”
“That is none of your business!” she exclaimed, not making eye contact.
“Oh my God, you did, didn’t you?” she replied with a laugh.
“I said it was none of your business!”
She laughed harder remembering the jibes she took from her friends when she first started dating Gil. “Was he good?”
Nancy’s right eyebrow rose while the left corner of her mouth slipped into a half-smile, giving her a sly expression. “Damned good.”
“Bully for you! Care to discuss the details?”
“No. Besides, I’ll see you tomorrow at Gil’s. Right now, I need to get started on this mess you’ve handed me.”
With her head held high, Nancy walked out the front door. Anne chuckled again.
Nancy and Brad? Her mind asked a lot of questions—like what if their relationship progressed as well as hers and Gil’s? She’d never thought of her critique partner as potential sister-in-law material—assuming, of course, that she and Gil went that route.
She climbed the stairs to her office, still in a good frame of mind. That ended when she pulled up her e-mail.
“Oh, geez, not Susan again.” She groaned.
She’d rather walk barefoot on ground glass than deal with her paranoid former critique partner, but opened the e-mail anyway.
I talked to Jane last night and she says she resigned. I don’t buy her excuse of personal reasons. What did you do to her? She was an excellent treasurer. Who’s going to take her place? Another one of your friends? Since that bitch Georgia Yancey has banned me from the loop, I am left with no choice but to contact you for an explanation. Can you tell the truth for a change?
Anne sighed and tamped her anger at the belligerent tone. She’d specifically told Jane not to discuss this with anyone. Before answering, she forwarded the message to Jane with the admonition not to discuss it again.
She was tempted to ignore Susan altogether. It was never a good idea to reply or comment on anything while emotional. However, and against her better judgment, she ignored her instincts and answered.
Jane’s decision to resign is not up for discussion. It has nothing to do with you or anybody else. Nancy has agreed to step in on a temporary basis until a new treasurer can be elected. I was waiting until after the weekend before making the announcement. And if you don’t think I tell the truth, why bother to ask me for details?
She hit the send button with more force than usual ruing the day she’d ever met Susan Lynch.
Writing was out of the question. Her mind was too focused on Jane, Susan, and the chapter in general. To keep busy, Anne committed the particulars of the case into a special folder on her computer. Maybe the repeating of the incidents and the facts as she knew them would help her find solutions to the crimes.
An hour later, she was no closer to anything except frustration. It was obvious the man and woman seen in the surveillance video on the main floor were involved in Fran’s death in some way, but identifying either was next to impossible.
And could it be that one or both of them had an accomplice or accomplices already in the room? Like a fake doctor?
She sighed and logged back into her e-mail, wincing when she saw a reply from Susan.
And under whose authority did you appoint Nancy Carlyle as our new treasurer? That should be a decision made by the membership. You’re trying to pack the board with your little friends.
Anne took a deep breath. Once again, the smart thing to do would be to ignore Susan, but her temper was up and she fired back an answer.
Susan, according to the by-laws, the board may appoint a replacement on an interim basis until a special election can be held to elect a new member. This election is to be held no later than sixty days after the resignation is accepted. And before you ask, the board may appoint said interim member without holding an open discussion. Treasurer is an important position and needed to be filled immediately. Nancy has no intention of running for the office. I hope this clears up any misconceptions you may have regarding the situation.
She sent the e-mail. To cover her backside, Anne forwarded the entire series of e-mails to the rest of the board hoping this was the end of it. No such luck. Her former critique partner answered back almost immediately.
I think you’re trying to pull the wool over our eyes. I won’t let you get away with it. Consider this official. I nominate myself for the now open position of treasurer.
“Oh great, just what I need,” Anne said out loud in an aggravated tone.
The problem was she might pull it off if a more qualified candidate didn’t come forward. The land line ringing brought her out of her depressing thoughts.
“Hello?”
“Uh, Ms. Jamieson? This is Pamela Waters, Fran Harrison’s sister. I just wanted to let you know that the funeral has been scheduled for Tuesday at eleven o’clock. Everyone is invited here afterward for coffee and cake.” She gave Anne further details.
“Oh, thank you for letting me know. I’ll post it on our chapter news loop immediately. How’s Mr. Harrison doing?”
A huge sigh came over the line. “Not good. He’s still in shock, poor man. Apparently, Fran’s death was not an accident. None of us can imagine who’d want to murder Fran.”
Anne bit her tongue. “I’m sure the police will find the killer soon.”
“I certainly hope so. George mentioned something about you coming over to collect some of Fran’s papers concerning your group. Would the day after the funeral be all right?”
“Yes, that’s fine. And again, please accept my deepest condolences.”
After hanging up, she tapped her fingers against her lips. Chapter business is one thing, but I wonder if I can snoop enough to find personal correspondence, too.
Fran borrowed money for a reason, and Anne was determined to find out why.
Chapter Ten
Ken parked in front of Gil’s house. She’d allowed her son to drive. All in all, she had little to criticize. He drove the speed limit, used his turn signals, and generally did a good job.
The babble of conversation and the aroma of burning charcoal told them the festivities had already begun. They followed their noses to the back yard.
“Anne,” Gil called out from the patio. He walked toward them, then leaned down to lightly kiss her cheek. “So glad you could make it. Nice to see you, too, Lisa and Ken.”
“Thanks for inviting us,” Lisa replied.
He smiled at Anne. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Beer? Soft drink?”
“I can handle a glass of wine,” she answered.
“I’m good for a soda,” Ken chimed in.
“Soft drinks and water are in coolers next to the house. The wine’s inside. Come on over. There are some people I’d like you to meet.” His hand clasped hers.
Anne took a deep breath and strolled side-by-side with him.
“By the way, you look gorgeous,” he said.
She glanced down at the black denim Capri pants topped with a bright purple, fo
rm fitting, t-shirt. The color set off her auburn hair to perfection.
“Thanks. I was so nervous I barely saw what I grabbed from the closet.”
Gil chuckled. “Don’t give me that. You spent hours trying on and discarding clothes.”
“Busted.”
They paused near a group of people sitting in lawn chairs on and near the large flagstone patio. She was certain Gil felt the nervous tremors rippling through her body to her extremities.
“Caroline, I’d like you to meet someone,” he said.
A petite blonde separated herself from a conversation and advanced. Her blue eyes crinkled when she smiled.
“Anne, this is my oldest daughter, Caroline. Cari, this is Anne Jamieson.”
The girl extended her hand. “Anne, I’m so pleased to meet you. Dad’s spoken about you a lot.”
She accepted the handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too. You’re in college, right?”
“Florida State.”
“How do you like it up in Tallahassee?”
“I wish it was closer so I could get home more often, but I do get to see Mom every couple of months.”
“I seem to remember Gil saying she lived in Tampa?”
“Yes. Dad said something about your kids being here today.”
Anne called Lisa and Ken over to introduce them. Another young woman with light brown hair and blue eyes joined them. Without waiting for a prompt from Gil, she held out her hand and smiled.
“Let me guess—you’re Daddy’s Anne.”
She had to laugh as she returned the handshake. “Guilty as charged.”
“Oh, good heavens, don’t say that in a policeman’s house. Someone might get the wrong idea.”
Gil chuckled. “This is my other daughter, Barbara. She’s in her sophomore year at the University of Florida.”
“I’ll bet football season is interesting in this house,” Anne said.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah.”
Over the next fifteen minutes, Gil introduced her to most of the people there, including his aunt and uncle, and several neighbors. By now, Anne had found a seat and sipped wine Caroline had presented. Ken was playing a game of H-O-R-S-E with other teens at a basketball hoop set up near the far end of the yard. Lisa was talking to Barbara and another young lady. For the first time since arriving, Anne relaxed.
“Brad! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” Gil called out.
Anne turned to see Gil’s younger brother step through the patio doors with Nancy. Her friend wore a pair of light blue shorts, white sandals, and a white sleeveless blouse. But what caught her attention was Brad’s arm firmly around Nancy’s waist, and the fact that Nancy was laughing—almost as if she’d been flirting.
I’m not sure how to react to this. It’s so out of character for her.
Nancy joined her after Brad had introduced his date to various people.
“You look…nice,” she said as Nancy took a seat.
“You mean different, don’t you?”
“I’ve never seen you wear anything except skirts and the occasional pair of slacks.”
“Maybe this cougar thing has me thinking in younger terms.”
Brad brought Nancy a beer and kissed the top of her head. “You okay for a while?”
She waved a hand and smiled. “I’m fine. Go say hi to your friends and play basketball.”
“Beer?” Anne questioned as Brad hurried off. “I am seeing a whole new you.”
“I know. I kind of like it. I was going to spend the day writing, but decided to bag it. This sounded like more fun. Can you imagine me kissing off writing for even a day?”
“No. Not in a million years. This might not be the time to bring up the subject, but have you had a chance to do anything with the financial mess I dumped in your lap?”
Nancy took a swig from the bottle and sighed. “You’re right, it’s not the best time, but yeah, and it isn’t pretty. The treasurer’s report says we have oodles of money in the bank, but according to the bank statements, we don’t.”
Anne’s stomach clenched. “I only had time for a quick glance. How far off are we?”
“I’d say several thousand dollars.”
“Oh my God.”
“And I found something else interesting—checks for varying amounts made out to cash. They coincide with our meeting dates.”
“What the hell?” A vision of the IRS knocking on the chapter door flashed before her eyes. “Cash? Varying amounts?”
Nancy nodded. “All the way from two hundred dollars up to a thousand. I called Jane just before Brad picked me up. She says Fran told her those were speaking fees commanded by the speakers. Jane claims Fran said the speakers preferred to be paid in cash.”
Astonishment almost left Anne breathless. “But that’s crazy. I’ve never heard of anybody who presented a meeting workshop getting paid anything other than travel fare and hotel accommodations when needed. Members who presented charged us nothing and the chapter picked up their lunch tab.”
“I went back over statements from a couple of years ago. No such checks were ever issued until Fran became president and Jane treasurer. I think good old Fran was bilking the chapter. I can’t decide yet whether Jane was an accomplice or just plain stupid.”
Anne sat back and gulped her wine.
“And this’ll frost your balls,” Nancy continued. “I found the chapter credit card receipts from the last national conference. Fran attended with conference fee, travel, and hotel room paid for by the chapter. That’s SOP. But she also took along her husband and another couple as guests. She put everything on the credit card and as far as I can tell never repaid the chapter.”
“Did you ask Jane about it?”
“Yep. She said Fran told her the extra couple of thousand dollars was for miscellaneous entertaining expenses to boost the chapter’s image.”
“And Jane paid up without any investigation, itemized receipts, or questions? Can this get any worse?”
“I don’t know. All I do know is that this is going to take an expert to untangle. I don’t think the chapter is in going-out-of-business trouble financially, but God only knows what kind of mess Jane got us into with the government regarding taxes and such. Whoever takes over this job is in for a hell of a ride.”
“You’re just full of good news today. I’ve got some for you. Susan is throwing her hat into the ring for treasurer,” Anne told her.
Nancy rolled her eyes. “If no one else steps up, I’ll do it. Can’t you just see her handling money?”
The problem was Anne could. The thought scared the crap out of her.
Brad returned and claimed Nancy for a game of ring-toss. Gil sat in her vacated seat.
“So, are you having fun?” he asked.
“I am. Lisa and Ken seem to be talking to your family and friends, and I’m starving. When is master chef Gil Collins going to begin working his culinary magic?”
He laughed and pulled her to her feet. “Right now, and I need a sous chef.”
An hour or so later, Anne was stuffed with burgers and hot dogs, and a determination to sweet talk Gil’s Aunt Betsy out of her recipe for potato salad. She never did find out who baked the brownies, but managed to eat three of them.
“So, did you guys enjoy yourselves?” she asked her kids on the way home—Ken driving, of course.
“I had a great time,” her son answered. “The food was fab and I played basketball with one of Gil’s neighbors who played for the University of Miami a few years ago. He made All-American, but didn’t make the pro ranks.”
“Caroline and Barbara are so nice,” Lisa said. “Barbara invited me to visit her in Gainesville if I wanted to go to school there. She also said she hopes her dad doesn’t screw things up. She thinks you’re a keeper. Mom, you made one hell of an impression.”
She ignored Lisa’s word choice, but glowed in the second hand praise. It was a huge hurdle to meet Gil’s daughters and friends. This day boded well for thei
r future.
“I was kind of surprised to see Mrs. Carlyle there with Gil’s brother,” her daughter commented.
“They’re seeing each other for the time being. I guess Brad’s schedule depends on when the next volcano blows up.”
“Wow, can you imagine being a volcanologist?” Ken said in an awe-filled tone. “That must be fascinating.”
“All I keep visualizing are the movies, Dante’s Peak and Volcano, not to mention the reality of the geologists killed when Mt. St. Helens blew,” Anne replied.
Once home, the kids went upstairs to finish any homework, while Anne poured a glass of iced tea and fired up her laptop.
The conversation she’d had with Nancy reminded her she needed to inform the membership of Jane’s resignation. But first, she e-mailed Jane to give her a heads up before getting down to business. It took her a few minutes to frame the news into a diplomatic message. She didn’t want to alarm the membership with too much of the truth so soon after Fran’s death. Anne saw no need to raise the specter of the IRS quite yet. She’d wait until the results of the audit.
It is my unfortunate duty to inform you all of the resignation of our Treasurer, Jane Whittaker, due to personal reasons. She was a valued member of the board and worked hard in her post.
As per the by-laws, the board met yesterday and appointed Nancy Carlyle as interim Treasurer. A special election will be held prior to sixty days from yesterday for the position. Details will be forthcoming. Anybody who is interested in filling the role can contact me privately.
She added her e-mail address and hit the send button. Now, she hoped someone with a modicum of sense and a strong moral code would step forward.
Anybody but Susan Lynch. The chapter can only take so many disasters in a year.
****
Anne dressed carefully for Fran’s funeral trying to set a dignified image in a navy blue suit with a light blue blouse. If she wasn’t chapter president, she’d have skipped the whole thing. But as it was, she had no choice, especially since Fran’s sister had called and asked her to speak on behalf of the organization.
Monday had been relatively quiet giving Anne time to actually write. Mavis Holloway’s son had called to say he’d be glad to take on the job of accountant for the chapter at a reasonable price. She told him the basics of their problems. When he agreed to take them on anyway, she gave him Nancy’s number. So far, she hadn’t heard from either of them.
A Taste of Death Page 14