The Booster Club

by Angela M. Sanders

  “I’m really looking forward to working with you,” Deborah said. And, oh, yes, she meant it. “I know we’ve had some, uh, misunderstandings, but that’s over now.”

  “I always believe in being straightforward. I think you’ll find that if you’re honest with me, I’ll be honest with you.” She gave a tight smile. “It’s best for all of us.”

  “Am I on time?” Ruby rushed in, just as they’d planned. “Traffic was awful.”

  Thank goodness for traffic, the all-purpose excuse. Ruby edged near Deborah and touched her hand.

  “Yes,” André said. “Well, I don’t have much time until I have to get back to the lab. How can I help you?”

  “We want to know more about Carsonville’s radium reserves,” Ruby said.

  “Let me handle this.” Eleanor stepped forward, practically pushing Ruby back. “What can you tell me about radium in Carsonville?”

  “What exactly do you want to know?”

  “If there is any radium, for one thing.”

  André dropped his papers in shock. “What? You doubt me.” He looked at Grady in bewilderment. “She doubts us.”

  With his grim expression, Grady appeared to be channeling an extra in Practical Hospital preparing to deliver a cancer diagnosis. “Impossible.”

  “Oh, yes,” he said to Eleanor. “Yes. Quite a deep vein.”

  “Then why hasn’t anyone found it before?” Eleanor said.

  They hadn’t practiced this bit. André appeared completely unfazed. “Very good question, Ms. Millhouse. Perhaps you have scientific training? No?” André pulled a marked-up geographic survey of Carsonville from a stack of papers. “Usually, radium is mixed into the earth in broad patches. Mining it means separating the mineral from the earth’s substrata. It’s a difficult and costly process.”

  “Why costly?”

  “Chiefly because of the radioactive detritus. The clean-up can run into the millions, depending on how much ground must be sorted.”

  Eleanor paused, then said, “But it’s worth it.”

  “At nearly $25,000 a gram—a single gram—yes, many would say it’s worth it.” He nodded for emphasis. “Plus, we have an unusual situation in Carsonville, which is why the radium has taken so long to document.”

  Gilda’s voice rose from the hall, and the unmistakable sound of brisk footsteps approached the office. Deborah grabbed Ruby’s arm just as the door burst open.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Deborah squinted. It couldn’t be—Hugo? He wore a lab jacket, and he’d cut his hair to a dark bristle.

  “Leave the door open,” André said, again appearing to take this unexpected visit in stride. “This is our intern, Bradley. Bradley, you can get started evaluating the samples in the lab.” He shot Hugo a purposeful look.

  “I thought you said you needed me to work on the files today, Dr. Heilig.” Hugo pulled himself more deeply into the room, nearly attaching himself to a file cabinet.

  “Never mind that,” Eleanor said. “Finish what you were going to say. About why this radium is special.”

  Hugo would pay for this, Deborah thought, but as fast as her anger rose, it melted into concern. The poor boy just wanted to help.

  André glanced at Hugo. “Yes. Well, Carsonville’s radium vein is narrow and deep. An unusual radium formation.”

  “I understand it can be mined with lasers.”

  Deborah looked up at an odd noise from Ruby’s throat. André glanced at her and nodded once.

  “Yes. A new technology. It’s still quite damaging environmentally, but at least the damage is localized.”

  “I’d like to see your report,” Eleanor said.

  “It’s quite scientific. Not written for the layperson.”

  “I’d still like to see it. If I’m going to invest, I want to know what I’m investing in.”

  André drew a deep breath. “Very well. I have only a few minutes, but come into the lab.”

  With Hugo at their heels, they passed into the hall and then into a room with a long, black-topped lab table in the middle. They joined Father Vincent, also in a lab coat, fiddling with containers of dirt. Father Vincent had insisted Eleanor wouldn’t recognize him without his collar, and as far as Deborah could tell, he was right. The computer monitor at the room’s far end quickly flipped from what looked to be a soap opera to a bunch of numbers.

  “I thought you were helping with the filing, Bradley,” André said, looking at Grady and Father Vincent.

  “I am.” Hugo didn’t move.

  André shook his head and handed Eleanor a bound report. “I can’t let you take this from this room. It’s not yet been peer-reviewed.”

  That’s not all it hadn’t been, either, Deborah thought.

  “My assistant, Dr. Grady, can show you a 3-D simulation we created from our studies of the area—”

  Without warning, Eleanor began jerking open cabinets and pulling out papers. She grabbed handfuls and peeled off pages with a glance at each. They fell to the floor and slid under furniture.

  “Eleanor!” Deborah said. The air filled with urgency.

  “Ms. Millhouse. What are you doing?” André dashed to the cabinets while Eleanor spread the papers on the lab table. Father Vincent and Grady looked on, jaws dropped.

  “She doesn’t trust us,” Deborah said, hands on hips. “She doesn’t believe you, Dr. Heilig.”

  “Just protecting my investment.” She picked up one paper, tossed it to the side, and examined another. She stood up. “These look to be in order. All on radium.”

  “Of course they are,” Father Vincent said. “I don’t understand—”

  The lab door flew open. “Who are you?” A woman—a stranger—trailing a rolling suitcase stood at the door. “I just got back from the conference. I thought the faculty meeting was this morning.”

  Shoot. Someone didn’t get Grady’s email. Deborah’s gaze rocketed to André. Surely he’d get them out of this.

  Hugo smiled and stepped forward. “Dr. Mullins. You’re back early.”

  “Who are you?” the woman said.

  “Bradley. Remember? I had that idea for an experiment with the ultra-twenty-nine molecule? We talked about it a couple of weeks ago? Don’t tell me you forgot already.” Hugo turned to André. “Pardon me, Dr. Heilig.” He grabbed the woman’s suitcase and wheeled it down the hall. Reluctantly the woman followed. Their voices receded into the empty hall.

  “One of our brightest scientists,” Grady said, “But she can’t remember squat.”

  The wall clock’s minute hand clicked forward. Five to ten.

  “Ms. Millhouse, I must be getting to my next appointment. If you have questions, you’ll contact me, right? In the meantime, we have some cleanup to do.” He glared at the mess of papers Eleanor had spread on the table.

  Eleanor hesitated only a moment before nodding once. “Thank you, Dr. Heilig.”

  Before Grady turned off the lab’s lights, Deborah saw him slip a paper on the table. “Certificate of Earthquake Compliance,” it said.

  * * *

  “All right. Now that the radium is verified, we’ll meet at the tea house to discuss the mining rights,” Eleanor said once they were in the parking lot.

  Deborah glanced at Ruby. “Oh, no, we can’t meet there.” Deborah’s pulse still raced after the scene in the lab.

  “Why not?” Eleanor tugged on her pearls, the only sign of nervousness Deborah had seen yet. “It’s so close.”

  “I never go there. The service isn’t very good,” Deborah lied.

  “On the contrary, I find the service excellent. Ruby agrees, don’t you?”

  “Sure. I guess. Deb, will you give me a ride? Bruce has the car.”

  “You’ll ride with me.” Eleanor clicked a button on her key fob. The Jaguar’s locks snicked open. “See you there.”

  Ruby and Eleanor were already seated when Deborah arrived. The host was right behind her.

  “Ladies?” he said, clearly puzzled at the new alliance. “Can I g
et you your usuals?”

  Deborah barely nodded, and Eleanor shot her a look. Ruby said, “That’s fine.”

  Eleanor set two copies of a multi-page document on the table. “It took my attorney all night to draw these up, but I wanted to have an agreement in place for sharing the mineral rights.” She set two pens next to it. “Initial each page and sign at the end.”

  The host arrived with Oolong tea for Ruby, Deb’s usual Earl Grey, and a tea cup only a third full of amber liquid for Eleanor.

  “I think you got shorted, Eleanor,” Ruby said. She stirred her tea leaves with satisfaction.

  Eleanor downed the tea cup’s contents in one throw. “It’s from the owner’s private stock. An eighteen-year double barrel Scotch.” She pushed the pens. “Sign it.”

  Ruby picked up the agreement. “We can’t just sign this without knowing what it is.”

  Deborah looked at Ruby anxiously. “Why do we need to sign anything?”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what it is.” The Scotch had flushed Eleanor’s neck. “It’s a legally binding agreement that says that I have a share in whatever radium is extracted. You’d do the same. We don’t have time before the county commissioners’ meeting for me to get an independent verification of the radium. I need protection.”

  “Is that all?” Ruby ruffled the papers. “That’s a lot of pages to say just that.”

  “It also says that my name will be kept out of the venture.”

  “But you’re buying the property, and now you’ll have a share in the mining rights. How can your name be hidden?” Deborah said. “That doesn’t seem right. This print is awfully small, and it must be eight pages, two-sided. Ruby, I don’t know if we should sign this without reading it through. How about if we come back tomorrow after we have someone look at it?” She thought about her pre-nup with Louie. Now she wished she’d read that more thoroughly.

  “Eleanor will tell us what’s in there, won’t you? We all have an interest in this project. We profit or fail together,” Ruby said.

  “I don’t know—” Deborah started. That marriage-busting witch. She’d cheat them for every penny, she knew it.

  Eleanor pushed her tea cup to the side. “I understand why you hesitate. It’s smart business. Look, I’ll summarize the agreement for you.” She peeled off her fingers. “One, it says that I get an equal share in the radium. Two, my name is kept out of it. We form a separate corporation. I have a team that can do that for us. Three, we go along with the family shelter ploy.”

  “Ploy?” Deborah couldn’t help but say.

  “Yes, the front you put up. At the final commissioners’ meeting on Monday, they’ll sign over the land to me, and I’ll publicly announce that I’m allowing you to build a family shelter.”

  “I don’t get what we have to hide, though,” Deborah said. “Why can’t anyone know about the radium mining? Once we have the land, that is.”

  Eleanor shook her head, and her pearls tipped from side to side. “The radium mining needs to be kept quiet at first.”

  “But it’s perfectly legal—” Deborah said.

  “That’s not why.” Now Eleanor’s voice was sharp. “If the commissioners—well, one in particular—knew it wasn’t part of a commercial project, he’d call off the sale in a millisecond. He’s sensitive about his reputation.”

  “But what about jobs? The economy?” Deborah knew she was simply being perverse at this point. Ruby kicked her under the table.

  “No. We keep it quiet. It will be a family shelter and part of a larger commercial development as far as anyone else is concerned.”

  “And the radium mining?” Ruby asked.

  “Will come later. Once we ‘discover’ it’s there. Then the profit is ours and ours alone. No sharing with government contacts. Get it?”

  Ruby pressed Deborah’s knee under the table.

  “Now sign the agreement. I swear to you, there’s nothing underhanded there. It’s simply to safeguard my interests. I’m the one paying for the land, after all.”

  Deborah let out a long breath. “I don’t know, Ruby. How do we know we can trust her? Shouldn’t we have someone look at this for us?”

  Ruby and Eleanor shared a glance.

  “If we’re going to work together, we must trust each other. All solid relationships are built on trust,” Eleanor said.

  Right. Deborah had trusted Louie, and look where that got her.

  “We’d better sign it, Deb,” Ruby said.

  “Are you sure?” Deborah asked Ruby in a low voice.

  “I don’t see that we have a choice.” She looked up at Eleanor, who made no pretense of not listening. “We have to trust her.”

  Deborah hesitated, then picked up the pen.

  26

  Claudine had half an hour. That was it. Half an hour to break into Eleanor Millhouse’s office and get what she came for. Ruby and Deborah would spend most of the night arranging the rest, but she’d go straight to the airport for San Francisco. In the trunk of her car was a satchel with everything she’d need for the museum break-in. She took a deep breath. She’d have plenty of time. Even if the office had an alarm, this was a ten minute in-and-out job. Ruby would stop by the airport’s long-term parking later and get what she needed.

  Fine Properties of Distinction was on the fourth floor just to the right of the elevators. As she’d expected, the front lobby was dark through the locked glass double doors. Also as she’d expected, a smaller, windowless door down the hall opened into the offices. She slipped a picklock from her jacket pocket and was though the door in seconds.

  Just inside, a noise stopped her. She flattened her back against the wall. It sounded like conversation. But with a laugh track? Staying close to the wall, she crept around the corner. Through a conference room door, she saw two of the cleaning crew, their mop and trash buckets nearby, watching TV. One of them said something to the other in Spanish. The first janitor unwrapped a sandwich.

  Shoot. It was their dinner break. She couldn’t pass the window without raising an alarm, and Ellie’s office was almost certainly the one on the corner, up the hall. She glanced at her watch. A quarter past eight. The show would likely run until the half hour, and the cleaning crew would leave. To her right was an office. Its door was open, and the trash was emptied. It had already been cleaned. She slipped inside, closed the door behind her, and dropped to the floor to wait.

  Under the desk was an extensive collection of pumps, most with creased leather at the toes and worn heels, and a grocery sack. Claudine peeked inside. Romance novels. On the desk sat two photos, one a wedding photo of a petite blonde and a meaty guy with eyes a little too close together to recommend a Mensa membership, and the other a toddler with fairy-like blue eyes and wispy blond hair.

  She peeled up her sleeve again to look at her watch. Only five minutes had passed. This was taking forever. Should she risk it and crawl past the conference room? No. Chances were the cleaning crew was already on alert, knowing that they shouldn’t be hanging out watching television, even if it was their break time.

  Oswald would be getting antsy, too. She’d always made a point of showing up a little bit early, not blowing in to the airport at the last minute like she would tonight. Otherwise, everything was set up for the jewel heist. They’d found another jeweler, and she and the Oz had run through the rest of their plans point-by-point until every minute of the next twenty-four hours was memorized, down to bathroom breaks.

  Her phone vibrated. A text. “Where are you?”

  “On my way,” she texted back. Damn. Still another five minutes. Listening for movement in the hall, she did a few dexterity exercises with her hands. Three minutes left.

  She could leave now. If she rushed, she could make it to the airport. If she left, by this time tomorrow she’d be on another plane, a flight to Geneva with the jewels hidden among the extra set of fakes she had made as part of her second role as a costume jewelry salesperson restocking the museum shop. She’d be away—away from these s
tupid insurance jobs, away from Carsonville with its petty squabbles among Women’s League members, away from one-horse town politicians like Ned Rossum. She could finally decide what to do with her life.

  But she’d also be away from her father. She’d miss him during the months she needed to stay out of the country. Heck, she’d miss the rest of the Villa’s residents, too. They were a rag-tag bunch, but they really cared about her. And she for them. She’d miss Hugo’s graduation from high school. The kid had the makings for something great, she knew it. That is, if he had a home and a chance for a decent education.

  It was as if she were two people: one who chose to stay and see the firehouse and the Rizzio kids through, and one who couldn’t believe she was passing up the biggest score of her life—the chance for another life.

  She looked at the bag of shoes, the romance novels, the family photos where she hid. Realization crept over her, like a light on a dimmer switch slowly cranked to full wattage. She was already living another life. She hadn’t carried out a job in weeks. The woman who worked in this office didn’t need millions of dollars of jewels to live a happy, stable life, and neither did Claudine. Somehow, the transformation had already taken place.

  At last the creaking of the mop bucket’s wheels told her that the cleaning crew had left the conference room. She crossed her fingers that they’d already emptied the wastebaskets in the rest of the office. She didn’t have a second to spare.

  After an eternity—probably merely ten minutes—they wheeled past her out the side door. She crouched behind the desk until she heard the tumbler turn in the lock. She let out a breath and shot down the hall with measured but lightning-fast movement.

  As she’d anticipated, Ellie’s office was in the corner. The door handle didn’t budge. She probably didn’t trust the cleaning crew, or anyone else for that matter. Claudine’s gloved hands quickly picked the lock.

  A faint vibration in her pocket told her she’d received another text. Oswald. “Too late. Gone.”