The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club - Book One (16 page)

“Admirable.”

“Would you write something for us, Mac?”
Lillian said. “After all, there is going to be a book, and we’d
like more contributions from men. It isn’t only little girls who
get cancer.”

Although it occurred to me they might
analyze my writing, it didn’t bother me since I have nothing to
hide. “Sure. Why not?”

Lillian retrieved several sheets of paper
and a pen, and handed them to me. She sat back down, and she and
Josephine gave me identical probing looks.

“What?” I said, setting the paper and pen on
the table by my glass.

“We showed you our cards, now it’s time for
you to show us yours,” Josephine said. She leaned over and poured
the whiskey from her glass into mine, a blatant bribe.

While I didn’t think they’d actually
discover the thief from a handwriting sample, they might have other
information that could prove useful. So first, I told them
everything I knew about the inventory lists and how they were
handled. Neither had anything to add to that. Then I told them
about my conversation with Dot Todhoffer.

“Dot said after she and Herman moved here,
he often showed other residents his stamps. Since he’s now
deceased, we can’t ask him who he showed the stamps to, but Dot did
say she thought it was mostly men.”

“When he showed people his stamps, did he
tell them about the one that’s now missing?” Josephine said.

“Dot said since he loved sharing the story
about how he acquired it with anyone who would listen, she assumed
he did. We know for sure he told his grandson.”

“I do vaguely remember Herman,” Lillian
said. “He died six months ago. You know, the stamp could have been
missing since then.”

“That’s true. But at least we have
confirmation from the grandson the stamp was here at Brookside
before Todhoffer died. And Devi verified she’d seen Gladys Turpin
wearing the necklace that’s been reported missing. That means the
only item we have no confirmation was ever here is Glenn Bascombe’s
baseball card.”

“But if you know two of the items were
here?” Josephine lifted her eyebrows.

“It makes it likely the card was here too,”
I finished for her. “Still, we need more proof before we
investigate further.”

“You mean, you’d just walk away?”

“We have only circumstantial evidence and
zero suspects.”

“And the suspect pool just got deeper with
Herman showing the stamp to other residents,” Josephine said.

Lillian sighed.

“I wish I could help you,” Josephine told
Lillian. “Is there something I can look for as a way to narrow down
the pile?”

Lillian shook her head. “Everything is
interrelated, and interpretation depends on those relationships.
Something taken in isolation . . . well, if we try that,
we might miss the thief. No, I’m going to have to keep
analyzing.”

“If there is a thief, they won’t be too
happy if they found out you two were looking for them.”

“You’re the only one who knows what we’re
doing,” Josephine said. “I think that means we’re safe.”

“Okay. But promise me something. If you come
up with a reasonable suspect, you’ll call me. Don’t go asking them
if they did it.”

“We solemnly swear,” Josephine said.

I took the last sip of Scotch and stood, and
Josephine jumped to her feet and made sure I took the paper and pen
with me.

Lillian

In early November, when Myrtle asked when we’d have the book ready
to present to Eddie along with the ceremonial check, Josephine said
ten days. I nudged her, but she ignored me.

Myrtle pulled a calendar out of her purse
and flipped its pages. “How about the twelfth? That way, we’ll
still be ahead of the holidays.”

“Sounds good,” Josephine said.

I didn’t bother to react this time.

“I’ll let Devi know so she can arrange the
refreshments. And I’ll talk to my contact at Children’s about
printing up a presentation check.” With that, Myrtle, ever the busy
person she is, bustled off.

“Why did you agree to that, Josephine?” I
knew I sounded desperate, but that’s how I was feeling.

“Don’t worry, Lill. While you’ve been
analyzing, I’ve been researching publication options. There’s
something called POD where you can get books printed as you need
them. And I can get that arranged while you continue to
analyze.”

We went back to her apartment then so she
could show me what the book looked like on the computer.

“How clever of you, Josephine.” I sighed,
exhausted. “I better get back to work.”

“Not until you drink a cup of tea. I have
just the thing to perk you up.” She stepped into the kitchen to
heat the water, but while she was in there, I fell asleep.

~ ~ ~

I no longer bother to check whose handwriting I’m analyzing. Loops
and swirls dance behind my eyes the whole time I’m awake, as well
as during that suspended time as I drift off to sleep. If it wasn’t
for Josephine, I’d have stopped by now.

“You know, these are fascinating,” she said,
picking up one of the sheets on which I’d written my findings. “The
more I read through these, the more impressed I am. Who would guess
you can tell so much from the way the writing is slanted? And this
stuff about club strokes and how people cross their
t
’s,
amazing.”

“But we don’t seem to be any closer to
finding out who the guilty person is, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to take time off, Lill. At least
until after the party.”

“I’m afraid if I stop, I won’t be able to
get started again.” The only thing I’d stopped for in recent days
was for meals and to go to church.

“But if you’re exhausted, you might miss
something important.”

Josephine was correct, of course, as she
usually was.

She went off to sign us up for the next
shopping trip, just to give us a change of scenery, while I
organized the mass of papers on my table.

She returned a few minutes later with the
news that her new car was ready to be picked up. I didn’t realize
she’d bought a car. Either she’d never mentioned it, or I was too
tired to remember. She already had her coat on, and she insisted I
put mine on and come along. Devi was waiting to drive us to the
dealership.

When we arrived, I was surprised, to say the
least, by the car Josephine had chosen. A lime-green Subaru
Cross-something-or-other. Devi and I examined it while Josephine
completed the paperwork. The car was sporty and the color
eye-catching.

I walked back over to the table where
Josephine was completing the transaction in time to hear the
salesman tell her the amount owed. I stood there blinking in
surprise while Josephine wrote that number into the space on a
check, and then signed it and handed it over.

The salesman picked up the keys and escorted
Josephine to the car. He had her sit in the driver’s seat, and she
insisted I sit in the passenger seat. Devi had to leave by that
time. The salesman opened the door for me with a flourish before
returning to Josephine’s side of the car.

He leaned in and pushed buttons on the
steering wheel, providing a steady commentary about what was what.
Even Josephine was overwhelmed by all the options. She finally
asked the man to set the small screen to show the number of miles
remaining on her tank of gas and thanked him one last time, and we
were free to leave.

“What do you think?” she said as we pulled
out of the lot.

“I like the color.”

“That’s the main reason I picked it.”

“You won’t ever have to worry about losing
it.”

She grinned at me, and I grinned back.

“No more Brookside shuttle buses,” she said,
obviously pleased with herself. “Now we can go anywhere we want,
anytime we want.”

I did think that sounded nice.

Devi

I’d arranged for the cake and other refreshments for the surprise
party for Eddie the way I always do when there’s a party. After
making sure everything was in readiness, I went to check on
Josephine.

Since I’d seen her and Lillian only rarely
during the past week, I wanted to be sure they were okay, although
I figured they had to be since Josephine’s bright green car was
often missing from its spot. Clearly she was busy enjoying her
newfound independence.

At Josephine’s, I found Lillian asleep on
the couch.

“She’s worn out,” Josephine whispered, a
finger to her lips. She stepped into the hall to continue the
conversation.

“Have you figured out who may be doing it
yet?”

I’d confronted Lillian about the handwriting
analysis book I’d seen, and Lillian had spilled every one of the
beans, including the fact she was convinced if Eddie was the
culprit, he had an accomplice. Lillian also told me Mac knew what
they were doing, which was a relief.

“We have a few possibilities, but Lill’s too
tired to figure it out right now.”

“Are you coming to the party?”

“I’m not sure,” Josephine said. “If Lill’s
still sleeping, I may not wake her.”

“But you’re presenting the book to Eddie,
aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not. Myrtle’s doing that.”
Josephine patted my arm. “You don’t have to worry, you know. Eddie
won’t have any idea this isn’t all Myrtle’s idea. And nobody knows
the real reason we collected their handwriting.”

“If you miss the party, I’ll come and give
you a full report.”

“Good. In that case, maybe I will give it a
pass.”

~ ~ ~

As soon as most of the residents had arrived for the party, Myrtle
fetched Eddie and had him stand next to her in the front of the
room. He looked around as if trying to figure out what was going
on, and I realized everyone had managed to keep the project a
secret.

He said something to Myrtle. She grinned at
him and continued to grip his arm.

“Okay, everyone. Well, here we are, gathered
to hear wonderful, amazing news.” Myrtle let go of Eddie and
clasped her hands together like a silent-film ingénue.

Eddie shifted his feet, and his Adam’s apple
bobbed. As more boisterous residents began calling, “Speech,
speech,” he took a half step away from Myrtle.

Myrtle waved her arms, shushing them. “As I
was saying, we are here today to announce the results of the
project you’ve all contributed to.”

Eddie cocked his head. I could tell he just
wanted her to get on with it. As did we all.

Myrtle turned to face Eddie. “After you told
me about your daughter, I thought and thought how to help with
Sara’s medical expenses. And then it came to me. Set up a fund at
Children’s Hospital in her name.” She flung her hands out in a
ta-da
motion and Eddie flinched, his expression segueing
from incomprehension to anger to panic.

He cleared his throat. “A fund, you
say?”

“Yes. We’ve established a fund that will not
only pay any expenses for Sara not covered by your insurance, but
it can also be used for other children. Everyone here has
contributed to it.” She gazed at Eddie with a satisfied smile.

“Other children?” Eddie cleared his throat
again, his expression that of a man who’d just received very bad
news. Which he had, of course, since there was no Sara.

“We’ve raised $5,000. What do you say to
that?”

Myrtle held up a large presentation check
that she swung from side to side. She gestured to Eddie to take one
end and Barry, our resident photography guy, jumped to his feet and
started snapping pictures.

“Um, that’s . . . wow. I hardly
know what to say.”

“We just want you to know, Eddie, that we’re
here to help so you won’t have to worry so much.”

“I’m, ah, I’m blown away. This is
amazing.”

I could see Eddie was beginning to catch his
balance.

“Thank you all. So much.” Eddie choked up on
the last word and reached for a napkin to dab at his eyes, which I
was certain were perfectly dry. It was, all in all, quite a
performance.

“That’s okay, Eddie,” Myrtle said in a
soothing tone of voice. “We know how relieved you must be. As for
us, we feel so privileged to be able to help you. And Sara.”

There was exuberant clapping and more
demands that Eddie give a speech. Myrtle took charge of the check
and laid it aside, and then she told everyone to shush and
supplemented that order with another vigorous waving of hands and
clanking of bracelets. Someone finally picked up a fork and tapped
it against a glass, and the room quieted.

“Yes, well, thank you, thank you all.” He
took a step away, and Myrtle reached out and snagged his arm.

“Just a minute, young man. We have something
else for you. Something all of us also contributed to.”

Barry lowered his camera long enough to hand
her the book, which she held out to Eddie.

“We’ve all written words of encouragement,
and we’ve put them together in this book that we hope will comfort
Sara, and you, as she undergoes her treatments.”

She held the book out to Eddie, whose
expression had such a desperate quality, I felt briefly sorry for
him. Then I reminded myself there was no Sara.

One of the deafer residents shouted at Eddie
to read something from the book. His jaw clenching, Eddie suggested
he pass it around instead.

“That won’t be necessary,” Myrtle chirped.
“We have more copies we’ll be giving the hospital. We can pass
those around.” She walked over to one of the tables, which was when
I noticed a pile of the books.

After more muttering of thank-yous and
attempts to step out of the limelight, Eddie finally escaped and
Myrtle brought the formal proceedings to a close. One of the
kitchen staff cut the cake, and slices were passed around. Mr.
Souter arrived at that point and came over to where I was
sitting.

“Is this the book Josephine Bartlett’s been
putting together?” he said as Myrtle walked over with a copy.