The Unkindness of Ravens M. Hilliard (popular novels txt) 📖

I stacked chairs while Anne Marie cleaned up the craft supplies.

“Thanks for your help, Greer. You can leave about half those chairs out; the Friends are in here next. We just need to tidy and shift the tables.”

“No problem. I understand the scheduling issue. Do you get a break after this or are you going to spend some time at reference with Jilly?”

“Neither, unfortunately. I have to sit in on the Friends meeting and take notes. Helene has a regional directors’ meeting and there’s so much going on she wants to make sure she doesn’t miss anything.”

“Just think how good all this is going to look on your resume,” I said, eliciting an eye roll from the intern.

“Were you at the meeting the night Joanna Goodhue was murdered?” I asked.

“Yes, actually, I was. Helene thought I should have exposure to the fundraising aspect of the job, and that meeting was all planning for the sale.”

“Did you happen to notice if Joanna was alone when she left the meeting?”

“She walked out chatting with Mrs. Prentiss. I was right behind them.”

“Did you happen to hear what they said?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.

Anne Marie frowned.

“I remember thinking it was strange. Mrs. Prentiss was thanking Mrs. Goodhue for taking her turn sorting through the jumble sale donations, and Mrs. Goodhue said she was glad to help and she hoped the meeting went well. I thought it was weird to have a meeting that late, but then I figured they must be talking about the next day or something.”

“Sometimes a few of them will stay late if they have any side business to take care of. They’re already out and they have the child care covered.”

“I don’t think so,” Anne Marie said, “because Mrs. Prentiss walked out right ahead of me and got into her car.”

“Then you’re probably right,” I said, “I’m sure it’s not important.”

We finished the room and I decided to pay a call on Millicent. I found her at her desk in the archives. She looked up with a frown as I came in.

“Oh, it’s you, Greer,” she said, her face relaxing. “I’m glad to see you and not another curiosity seeker.”

We chatted briefly. I expressed concern about her arthritis, and verified that her right shoulder was bothering her, that she was right-handed and so was seeing her doctor that afternoon.

“She looks all of twelve, but she seems to know what she’s doing,” Millicent said.

I laughed and offered help if she needed anything, then took my leave, mentally scratching Millicent off my suspect list.

The jumble sale committee was milling about in the community room when I went by. I peeked in to see if there was anyone I wanted to talk to. Most were wearing yoga pants and tees that proclaimed them regular worshipers at the shrine of Our Lady of Perpetual Pilates. A few had on their new FOL sweatshirts. They were virtually indistinguishable from the doorway as they chatted and opened boxes of baked goods. I thought longingly of a doughnut but there was no one I needed to speak to and I had to get back to my suspect list. My phone was ringing as I reached my cubicle. I patted my pocket—it wasn’t there. I started flinging things around on my desk until I unearthed it, managing to answer before the call went to voice mail. It was Jennie Webber.

“Can you talk?” she said without preamble.

“I think so, just a sec,” I said, taking a quick look around the office and making sure the door was closed.

“Yes,” I said, “go ahead.”

“You got my text?”

“I did, and some new information, too,” I told her.

“You are supposed to be keeping your head down and your mouth shut.” I swear I could hear her teeth clenching over the phone.

“I am. This is just some gossip I picked up.”

After a little internet research, and some discreet questioning, I added silently.

A small, exasperated noise reached my ears.

“So, what is this gossip?” Jennie asked.

I peeked around the corner of my cubicle again, just to be on the safe side, then filled her in on everything I’d learned. She let me run on until I got to my conversation with Vince.

“So, you were questioning one of our chief suspects?” she said, sounding more than a little annoyed.

“He stopped by to get something.” I explained about the package from Joanna, and added, “I made sure he came when there were a lot of people around.”

“You should have let us handle that, but since it’s already done, what did he say?”

I told her, and ran through all my theories, ending with Felicity as killer. There was a brief silence when I was done.

“You may be on to something,” she said, a note of respect in her voice, “though I don’t think we could charge her with anything in the old lady’s death. It doesn’t sound like there were any signs of elder abuse or neglect at the time. If Felicity snapped and decided to do away with her mother-in-law, she left a lot to chance.”

“True, but she’d have more than one opportunity. And what about the money? How big is that trust fund?”

“That’s where it gets complicated. Felicity and her sister are the only surviving members of the James family, and the sole beneficiaries of the trust.”

I could hear pages flipping as Jennie checked her notes.

“The two girls got certain property outright, as well as some cash. Half the income from the trust and anything Marjorie owned went to Felicity, and was then supposed to pass to any offspring of Felicity and Matthew Prentiss. There’s more to it, but that’s the bottom line.”

“Nothing to Matthew?” I said.

“According to Marjorie’s will, he was left well-off when his father died. Long line of lawyers there, so that’s no surprise. Anything from the Prentiss side went to Matthew, and anything from Marjorie’s side went to Felicity. Including the house they lived in and the building where Matthew’s office is.”

“Huh.” That was odd, particularly the house and