Henry had come by at six thirty. Polly accused him of watching for Sylvie’s car to leave and when he brandished a paper bag, protesting his innocence, she let him off the hook. He’d picked up fried chicken and mashed potatoes from Davey’s and they watched mindless television all night long. Henry had finally plucked the remote from Polly’s hand after she had been around the dial the third time, stopping for nothing.
“I’m going home,” he said. “You should go to bed.”
“You’re not my mother. I’ll go to bed when I want to go to bed!” Polly had whined.
“Did you just whine at me?”
“Maybe.” That time she stuck her lower lip out and pouted. “I wish you didn’t have to go. I know we don’t do anything exciting, but I like having you around.”
Henry had tucked the blanket in around her on the sofa. He bent over and kissed her, then put the remote back in her hand. “I like being here, too. But, both of us need sleep tonight. I’m not going to be around much tomorrow. I have a job up in Lehigh and we are on the road early. Text me when you get moving.”
“I’ll walk out with you.”
“Nope. You stay put. Obiwan and I will take a quick walk and then I’ll let him back in and lock up.”
“You’re awfully good to me.”
“Remember that the next time you want to yell at me for something stupid I’ve done, okay?”
Polly had smiled up at him. “I owe you a few of those.”
Henry had done just as he said and when Obiwan came back up the steps he called out, “Good night, pretty girl. I’ll talk to you later!”
“Good night.”
She had waited long enough for him to get home and then texted him, “Did you get home safe? No boogey man to bother you?”
“I just walked in the front door. Good night, Polly. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Polly had watched the news, taken the remote around the channels once or twice more and decided to go to bed. Henry was pretty wonderful, putting up with her boring evenings.
The ringing of her phone woke Polly again. She was still on the couch and the cats had curled up around her. She fumbled around looking for the phone, nearly knocking the full cup of cocoa on the floor. Some sloshed out on the table and she whimpered. It was seven thirty and the phone call was Eliseo.
“I’m late! I’m sorry!” she said, jumping up and dislodging the animals. “I’m on the way.”
“I was getting a little worried. Do you want me to take care of things down here this morning?”
“No, I’m coming. I need to find my head and I’ll be right there. How long have you been here?”
“A little while. We’ll wait for you.
Polly quickly got dressed. Calling her dog, she ran full speed to the barn.
Eliseo looked up when she rushed in. “That didn’t take long!”
“I’m sorry. I was up in the middle of the night and fell asleep on the couch.”
“Did something else happen?”
“No, I think my mind was trying to talk to me, but I couldn’t focus enough to hear it.” Polly opened the door to Daisy’s stall and put her hand on the horse’s neck.
“Good morning, girl,” she said, feeling the strength of the horse under her fingertips. With one light connection to the horse, Polly stopped thinking about rushing around and stepped in to the stall. She wrapped her arms as far as she could around the horse’s neck and hugged her. Daisy nuzzled Polly’s hat. “I’m glad you are here, too,” Polly said. “I’ll be right back with your breakfast.”
She stepped back into the alley and into Demi’s stall. A quick pat on his shoulder and Polly took off for the feed room. Eliseo was filling buckets and laughed at her when she darted in. “They’re good to have around, aren’t they?”
“They are. Thanks for waiting for me this morning.”
“When I drove in and didn’t see any of your lights on, I knew you weren’t moving too quickly, so I spent some time cleaning up the shed behind your garage. I didn’t want to come down and wake up the horses without you.”
“Thank you. I start missing these guys when I don’t get down here every day.” She headed back to the stalls and after making sure that Demi and Daisy were fed, gave them a few minutes of quiet with their breakfast. She wandered back into the feed room and found Eliseo sliding bales of hay out of the upper loft, so she hefted them into place, building up the stacks. This was work she’d never done with her father on their farm. He hadn’t asked her to do much while she was growing up. He kept insisting that it was more important to him that she do well in school and have plenty of time for the activities she chose to participate in.
Mary, on the other hand, kept Polly very busy around the house. She didn’t believe in idle time. If Polly wasn’t busy with homework or practicing her flute, she was cleaning or doing laundry. Polly hated washing windows and cringed every time she came home from school and saw the bucket and squeegee sitting on the front stoop. But, they did the work together and Polly learned to never be afraid of hard work.
She and Eliseo opened the doors to the outside and let the horses into the pasture, then began the process of mucking out stalls. They worked in silence and her mind drifted back to the conversation she had with Natalie Dormand yesterday. Polly was breaking up a bale of hay in Demi’s stall and gasped out loud.
“Is everything okay, Polly?” Eliseo entered the stall with a worried look on his face.
“I just figured out what’s been on my mind for the last eighteen hours. I’m sorry to have startled you.”
“That’s okay. As long as you didn’t hurt yourself. What did you figure out?”
“Thomas Zeller wrote another Eddie Powers mystery!”
“Okay?” he seemed puzzled.
“He hasn’t written one of those since the early nineties. He wrote one every time he was searching for his son and his old girlfriend. Whenever they left a community, she mailed him a picture and then he went there to find out about her. That’s what Natalie Dormand said to me yesterday. She’s reading another Eddie Powers mystery. She knows he was close to finding them.”
“What does that mean, then?”
“I’m not really sure. I wonder if I can get my hands on the manuscript.”
“Can’t you just ask her?”
“I don’t think she’ll let me near it. She seems really offended that he and I had a friendship. I might call Anita down at the Sheriff’s office to see if they kept a copy of it somehow.”
Eliseo nodded and walked away with the wheelbarrow in order to dump it. Polly began sweeping in the main alley, her mind racing. She rushed through the rest of her chores and when she was finished, ran back to her apartment, waiting rather impatiently for her dog to catch up.
“Come on! Let’s go!” Polly called to Obiwan. He rushed up the stairs, wagging his tail. Breakfast was coming.
When she finally got to her office, she quickly waved to Jeff and dropped into her chair. Before the computer came to life, she made the call to Anita,
“Good morning, Polly. What’s up?” was Anita’s reply.
“You didn’t happen to keep an image of Thomas Zeller’s computer before you gave it back to Natalie Dormand, did you? And by the way, did you all do any background checks on her?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I want to make sure we handed his life to someone who is who she says she is.”
“And the manuscript?”
“If this is another Eddie Powers mystery, there might be a code in it for Genie Campbell. He hasn’t written one of those in years and it’s a big deal!”
“Let me check and I’ll get back to you. It might be later today, though. I have a desk full of work to do here.”
“No problem. Thank you for looking into it for me.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Thanks.” Polly sat back in her chair. She could stand it no longer. She got up and ducked into Jeff’s office.
“I’m going to my apartment. Call if you need help with lunch.”
He looked up, “I don’t need you today. Hannah should be here any time. She’s going to do some baking for afternoon meetings and handle lunch today.”
“Really?” Polly was surprised. Hannah didn’t usually work during the week. She and her husband had a little one who demanded a great deal of her time.
“Her mother-in-law told her she would love to take the baby since the older kids are in preschool and school. So, one day a week she is ours.”
“That’s terrific.” Hannah McKenzie was married to one of Polly’s friends from high school. They’d met last Christmas and when Hannah ended up helping Sylvie with the Sycamore House Christmas party, the two women discovered they worked well together. Since then, Hannah spent most Saturdays helping Sylvie with wedding receptions and other events.
“Call if you need me.” She dodged the Haunted Hallway set and ran up the steps. Thomas Zeller’s books were in her bookcase and she wanted to track down his publisher in order to ask some questions. Now that she thought about it, it seemed odd that no one from the publishing company had bothered to come to Bellingwood or even to call her.
Polly found the last book he had written and sat down at her dining room table with her laptop, looking for phone numbers. It took some doing, but she finally ended up speaking to a man whose high-pitched voice had a very affected British accent.
“Jeremy Swanson speaking, how may I assist you today?”
“Mr. Swanson, this is Polly Giller. I am the owner of Sycamore House in Bellingwood, Iowa, where Thomas Zeller was staying until he died last week. I would like to ask some questions.”
“Yes, Miss Giller. I will answer the questions that I am able to answer. Please proceed.”
Please proceed? She wanted to giggle, but thought better of it. “Can you tell me if Natalie Dormand is really Thomas Zeller’s assistant?”
“Miss Dormand is employed by our firm and has been working exclusively with Mr. Zeller for the last two years.”
“She works for you?”
“Yes, Miss Giller, that is exactly what I said.”
“Has she contacted you about his new manuscript?”
“I was under the impression that he hadn’t finished it. The last I spoke with Mr. Zeller, he intimated that there was quite a bit of work to be done on it before it would be ready for publication.”
“Does Natalie Dormand generally do a lot of re-writing for him?”
“That is information I do not have. I am uncertain of the specifics of their relationship.”
“Do you know if Thomas had an agent or anyone who might be managing his estate? We’ve heard from no one regarding his body or personal effects.”
“It is my understanding that Miss Dormand has all of that well in hand. I am sure Mr. Zeller had a great many friends here locally and given some time, I could gather information on his local agent and the lawyer he works with. But again, you could also ask these questions of Miss Dormand.”
“Does Miss Dormand work out of an office there or was she working directly with Mr. Zeller?”
“I don’t understand the reason for these questions, Miss Giller. Miss Dormand does have an office here, but she is not required to be in it. Most of her time is spent working quite closely with Mr. Zeller.”
Polly could tell that she wasn’t going to get much further with this man.
“Do you carry the publishing rights for the Eddie Powers mysteries, Mr. Swanson?”
“No, I’m sorry, we do not. We did not purchase those when we took Mr. Zeller on as a client.”
“One last question. Do you publish Grey Linder’s work?”
“The poet? No, Miss Giller, we do not. The last thing he wrote that was worth any attention was twenty years ago. The man is a washed up hack.”
Polly swallowed a snort as the snobby Mr. Swanson’s speech pattern flattened out. He spat that last sentence out with more than a little venom.
“How do you know about Mr. Linder?” he asked her.
“He has been working here at Sycamore House as well.”
“Don’t be taken in by that drunk. He isn’t working and I can almost certainly assure you that you will receive no remuneration for his stay there. He will be gone one night and you won’t be able to find him.”
She was going to have to ask Jeff about that. They’d not yet been stiffed by any of their guests, but she supposed there might be a first time.
Jeremy Swanson interrupted her thoughts. “I must attend a meeting in a short while, so unless you have any other questions …” he let the sentence hang there.
Polly thought about outwaiting him, but decided to be the better person. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Swanson. If I have any more questions, I will contact you at a later date. I will also let my friend, Sheriff Merritt, who is handling the investigation into Mr. Zeller’s death, know that I’ve spoken with you just in case he has any further questions.”
She pressed the button to end the call and snickered to herself. She wasn’t sure why that felt so good, but it did.
Another internet search and Polly dialed her phone again.
“Seafold Publishing, this is Ben speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hello, my name is Polly Giller and I would like to speak to someone about Thomas Zeller.”
“The only someone available is me and so I guess I’m it. How do you know Tom?” the man asked. He had a deep, resonant voice, exactly the opposite of Jeremy Swanson.
“Mr. Zeller has been staying here in Iowa. I own Sycamore House in Bellingwood and he spent the last month or so with us while finishing his book.”
“Did you get to know the old man well before he died?” Ben asked.
“I’d like to think so, but I’ve been finding out much more about him since he’s been gone. I just spoke with Jeremy Swanson …”
Before she could finish, he let out a hack of laughter, “That fatuous ass. He and his cronies are crooks. I told Thomas as much nearly twenty years ago, but he was looking for big money to build his portfolio in a hurry and they were willing to pay him.”
“Do you still have publishing rights for the Eddie Powers mysteries?”
“I sure do. That was part of the deal. Any future Eddie Powers mysteries were to come to me, too. But I guess that isn’t going to happen now, is it. I hate the idea that I’m going to have to make a living off of the fact that Thomas is dead, but if I want to keep my father’s company open, it’s what I’ll have to do.”
Polly liked this man and before she knew it was spilling everything she knew about the books, the codes, Thomas’s search for his long lost love and son and then she said, “I’m pretty sure that he has just written another Eddie Powers mystery, but there’s a Natalie Dormand here who has control of his laptop and I don’t know what she’s going to do with the manuscript. Thomas was out here in Iowa looking for Nelly and his son.”
“It’s too bad he didn’t find them before he died. He spent a lot of time with us during the early years of his search. We scheduled his travel for him and checked up on him regularly when he was working, just to make sure he was taking care of himself. Some of those locations were pretty remote,” Ben said. “Do you really think there’s another Eddie Powers mystery?”
“I do. And I think there’s one more message for Nelly.” Polly decided that she wasn’t telling anyone about Kevin and Genie. At least not yet. The time wasn’t right.
“You don’t have another room that I could stay in, do you?” he asked. “I’d like to fly out tomorrow and see what I can do about retrieving that manuscript.”
“Let me see what I can do.”
They exchanged email addresses and then it occurred to Polly that she’d be in Des Moines for another Therapy Dog Training session. She told Ben about that and gave him the hours she’d be busy. If it worked for her to pick him up, then she would make sure he got to Bellingwood.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he said. “Th
ank you for calling me, Miss Giller.”
“It’s Polly and I’m sorry, your last name is?”
“Seafold. It’s a family business.”
“I hope to see you tomorrow, then, Mr. Seafold. Thank you for your time.”
They hung up and everything inside her stomach roiled in panic. She didn’t know whether she was excited or terrified that she’d completely screwed things up again. If only Anita would call to let her know what was going on.
There was a knock at her front door. Obiwan beat her to the entryway, his tail wagging. “I suppose you know who this is,” she said and opened the door.
Jeff was standing there with a tray. “I’m delivering lunch today,” he said, handing it to her. “I wanted to make sure you ate something healthy. I brought Mr. Linder’s up for him and figured I could just as easily drop yours off, too.”
Polly’s roiling stomach took another turn at the reminder of Grey Linder’s possible failure to pay.
“Jeff?” she started.
“Yes, Polly.”
No, she wasn’t going to do that now. They could deal with it later and she didn’t feel like passing along Jeremy Swanson’s negative comments. “Do we have another room available through the weekend?”
“Yes. We have the fourth room over in the addition. Did you invite someone else?”
“It’s Thomas Zeller’s old publisher. I just got off the phone with him and he wants to come out to see what he can do to help clear the rest of this mess up. He’s flying into Des Moines tomorrow sometime. I’ll probably bring him back with me after I’m finished with the Pet Therapy session.”
“Just so you know, I’ve had a few media inquiries. I’ve sent everything to the Sheriff’s office in Boone or forwarded it to Natalie Dormand. Thomas Zeller was kind of a big deal.”
“Yes he was. Have you talked to her much?”
“Who, Natalie? Not a lot. She stays to herself. In fact, I’m taking lunch to her in a few minutes. Why?”
“No reason. Thank you for this,” Polly said, nodding at the tray. “I’ll bring things down later.”
She watched him go back to the steps, then took the tray in to the dining room table. She barely had time to look at what was there to eat when her phone rang. It was Henry.
Diane Greenwood Muir - Bellingwood 05 - Life Between the Lines Page 22