Let's Play Dead (33 page)

It occurred to me that there was a small chance that the exhibit opening, or at least the upscale kickoff event, might be postponed due to Hadley’s troubles, but I was willing to bet that Hadley—brave woman that she was—would find a way to soldier on. Somehow the news about Hadley’s house fire had catapulted her back to the top headline, and Hadley’s publicist had managed to twist the stories of Joe’s unfortunate death and Hadley’s tragedy together and suggest that poor Hadley was the unfortunate victim of circumstance. I’d bet that her book sales soared, at least for a day or two. When I called Arabella to check whether the reception was going forward this evening as planned, she said that Hadley had insisted that the show must go on, despite her personal tragedies. Why was I not surprised?

With the events of the previous day and night still swirling in my head, I made my way into work. I was pleased to find Eric already at his desk when I arrived. “Mornin’, Nell. There’s a message for you.” He handed me a slip.

I took it into my office, and after hanging up my coat, I looked at it and was surprised to find that it was from James. “Eric, when did this come in?”

“This morning, early, before I got here. It was on voice mail.”

That was curious—why would he be calling when he knew I wouldn’t be at my desk? Or maybe he’d just missed me at home. I checked the number: from his office. There was only one way to find out what was going on, so I picked up the phone and called. He answered on the second ring.

“Hi,” I said brightly if not intelligently. “You called?”

“Hi, Nell. Yes, I did. What are your plans for today? I’ve got something to talk over with you.”

“Nothing on the calendar until five, when I was planning to go to the reception at Let’s Play.”

“Let’s Play? Oh, for the new exhibit. How about I meet you at the reception, and maybe we can have dinner after?”

So it wasn’t official business. “That sounds nice. Should I tell Arabella to expect you?”

“I think I can manage to wangle my own way in. See you then.” He hung up.

Interesting. He’d told me nothing, and now I had to spend the day wondering what he wanted—the jerk.

And then I remembered that there was something I really needed to do. I left my office and went to stand in front of Eric’s desk. He looked at me anxiously. “Everything all right?”

“What? Oh, the FBI call. Yes, no problems. Listen, Eric, I just realized that your probation period has ended. You still want the job?”

His expression morphed from anxious to hopeful. “I sure do. I really like it here.”

“Then it’s yours. You’ve been a big help, and I know you can be discreet. Welcome aboard. We can worry about the paperwork later.”

He jumped to his feet, grabbed my hand, and shook it vigorously. “Thank you so much, Nell. You won’t regret it. But could I maybe get a computer now?”

I laughed. “I’ll work on that.”

I muddled my way through the day. Midafternoon I went down to the reading room to have a word with Felicity, who was at her desk despite a nearly empty reading room. “Hi, Felicity. Thanks for helping Barney out—he seemed thrilled yesterday with what you’d found.”

Was she blushing again? “It was fun. I love sports history, so it’s a treat to have to dig into our collections for a patron. And he’s a very nice man,” she ended primly.

“I agree. I hope we’ll be seeing more of him here.” And I’d venture that Felicity hoped so, too.

At quarter to five I sent Eric home and took a cab over to Let’s Play. I had to admit, as the cab approached the old building, that it looked surprisingly festive in the gathering dusk. There were strings of tiny lights attached almost everywhere possible. I paid the cab fare and walked through the front door: the tiny lights continued inside as well, making the shabby old industrial building look like a fairyland. Even Furzie sported some sparkling strings, plus a knit hat with a pom-pom.

An employee inside the door took my coat and spirited it away, and I turned to study the crowd. The exhibit was on the second floor, at the rear, and the party sprawled over both the first floor and the remaining space on the second. Even this early the place looked well filled, and there were a good number of children running around, excited. Young servers circulated with trays of hot hors d’ oeuvres. I snagged a glass of white wine from the downstairs bar, helped myself to some of the yummy savories, and set about trying to find Arabella, Caitlin, and Hadley. Of course, my efforts were hampered because along the way I had to stop to greet and chat up the partygoers I knew or recognized—the work of a fundraiser, even a promoted one, never ceases. When I finally made it up the stairs, I found the key players all clustered together in an informal receiving line. Arabella looked radiant; Caitlin, at her side, looked relieved; and then there was Hadley, impeccably clad in a clinging red dress, holding forth in front of a small cluster of admirers. I caught snatches of her conversation.

“Oh, I’m completely devastated! My poor little cottage, gone! So many memories, and such lovely treasures. But I can only be happy that no one was at home when it happened.”

I tuned her out and turned to Arabella, who threw her arms around me. I struggled to hang on to my glass without drenching her. “Oh, Nell, isn’t it wonderful? Everyone came! And people were calling all day, asking if they could attend or bring a guest. And the head of the electricians’ union is here, and he brought friends! Isn’t that kind of him? That should really help with our PR. I was so worried!”

As I scanned the room, I could tell that Barney had done what he had promised—this went far beyond the usual society crowd. “It all looks terrific. I’m so happy for you. And for you, too, Caitlin—looks like you pulled it off. Congratulations.”

Caitlin’s face lit up. “Thanks! I’m really happy with how it turned out. Maybe I’ll stop by and say hi one of these days. Excuse me.” She was pulled away by someone with a question.

There was one of those curious lulls between waves of people, so I took the opportunity to pull Arabella aside. “She’s doing well,” I said—more statement than question.

“She is,” Arabella agreed. “I’m so proud of her! I knew when I hired her that people might talk, but even with everything we’ve had to deal with, I know I made the right decision in having her handle this. She’s blossoming!”

“What do you think about this thing with Hadley? The house?” I asked.

Arabella looked at me levelly. “You mean, do I think the timing is rather fortuitous? First Nolan says, in front of witnesses, that the wiring is a mess, and then Hadley’s conveniently away from home when her house burns to the ground?”

“Yes. I did wonder about that.”

She took my hand in hers. “Nell, the police are satisfied. I think we have to be, too. Joe’s death was an accident, case closed. And Hadley’s been amply punished for her poor choice in, uh, companions. I don’t know if there’ll be much of an investigation into the fire. So I think we have to accept things and move on. Don’t you?”

“I do.” It might be interesting to know how much insurance Hadley had carried on the house—and whether she had managed to sneak a few of her more treasured personal memorabilia away to a safe place, but it really was none of my business. The exhibit looked to be a success, thanks to Barney’s friends, if the children clustered there were any indication. Hadley stood a chance of reclaiming her stature as a children’s writer—and might have a good excuse to retire Harriet and try something new. Let’s Play would weather the storm. “Is Nolan still around?”

“Yes, he’s here somewhere. After all the drama, there’s no way he was going to miss seeing what it was all about. And he wanted to support Caitlin. Do you know, I’d built him up to be such an ogre! And I can see how Caitlin came to idolize him just to retaliate against me. I think seeing him now was good for both of us. I’m not angry at him anymore, and she’s able to view him in a more balanced way. If she wants to go visit him, I can handle that. He’s still her father.”

Happy endings all around, then. “Well, I’ll let you mingle, Arabella. It looks like your exhibit is a success, and you deserve it. When the dust settles, let’s talk about that joint exhibit.”

“That would be wonderful, Nell. And thank you for all your help.”

She squeezed my arm, then turned to greet another guest, and I turned away, too, all but bumping into James. “I wondered where you were,” I said. “Are you allergic to munchkins?”

“You mean all these knee-high creatures? Not at all. It looks like everyone is having a great time.”

“Yes, and after all the mess!” I felt a sudden pang of doubt. “You aren’t here to rain on anyone’s parade, are you? Or arrest anyone?”

“Nope. The police are happy, and I’m not going to interfere. The case is closed, and our friend Detective Hrivnak has signed off on it.” He smiled. “I’m here strictly as a civilian. And to see you. I’ve got a bit of good news for you—consider it a late Christmas present.”

“Oh, lovely—I could use some! What is it?”

“We’ve found the person who purchased a lot of the items stolen from the Society over the last few years. As it turns out, he held on to most of them—he couldn’t bear to part with them, so he kept the items in a secret room in his house. Not even his wife knew about them. Once the paperwork is done, you should be getting a lot of them back. I haven’t told Marty yet—I thought you deserved to hear it first. You can give the good news to Marty and the board.”

“That’s
wonderful
!” Without thinking, I grabbed James and planted a kiss on him, then stepped back quickly, embarrassed. “Sorry—I got carried away.”

“I, uh, guess I should try to bring you good news like that more often,” he said, looking uncharacteristically flustered.

“It will be a real treat to have something good to tell the board.” I leaned closer again. “Thank you. For everything. I get the feeling you were looking out for me even through this whole thing. I mean, really—terrorists, here?” I gestured around at the happy families amidst the twinkling lights.

His mouth twitched. “Does seem a bit hard to imagine, doesn’t it? Are you ready for dinner?”

It was kind of a nonanswer, but it would do. “Certainly.” I waved to Arabella, who was chatting happily with Caitlin, and even to Hadley, glowing with all the attention being paid to her. Would we ever know the real story? Maybe not, but at least Let’s Play would survive, and I was glad for Arabella.

I took James’s arm. “Let’s go.”

 

 

ONE BAD APPLE
ROTTEN TO THE CORE
RED DELICIOUS DEATH
A KILLER CROP

 

FUNDRAISING THE DEAD
LET’S PLAY DEAD