Where Is Henderson? (Sam Darling mystery #5) (7 page)

“That’s it, Clancy! I knew I’d heard of Henderson, Kentucky before. You know I get pamphlets at work all the time advertising workshops. This one must be a self-help or a mental health workshop or I probably wouldn’t have gotten the brochure. Maybe I’ll go to that tomorrow if George won’t let me help him.”

The rest of the short walk was uneventful, so I talked to Clancy. “You know, I don’t need to improve my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier. But if I go to the workshop I might be able to do some investigating on my own. You know—talk to some townspeople about Cash Henderson.”

That brought a smile to my face that lasted until the next morning.

I
rolled over Clancy to kiss George good morning. As usual, Clancy had wormed her way in between the two of us as we slept.

“Good morning, sweetie!” I said, as I lingered near George, still smiling.

“Hey,” he said, his eyes lighting up. “Now this is a great way to wake up. What are you smiling about? It almost looks like you’re up to something.”

“You’re such a cop,” I said and kissed him on the cheek. “So suspicious.” Rolling back to my side of the bed, I said, “I think we both need to brush our teeth. Last night’s meal was delicious, but sure had a lot of garlic in it.”

“I’ll shower first,” he said. “I have a long day ahead.”

I’d interrogated him last night, but he hadn’t had any new information. The plant hadn’t been open after all. I thought that was interesting—maybe they weren’t doing well, maybe they’d never been open more than one shift, or maybe they were closed because of Cash’s death. Several possibilities.

Besides the food, the other interesting thing that happened at dinner was that the room was buzzing. I guess a murder wasn’t commonplace here, and the victim was a member of a prominent Henderson family. I couldn’t make out a lot of what was being said, but I heard people talking about Cash Henderson, then a lot of whispering. Ah, I wished I was a fly on the wall. Except there were no flies in the restaurant.

Back to the present. “So you going to spend the day at the plant?” I asked.

“Yes. You can come with me if you want, but I think it will be pretty boring.”

“That’s okay,” I said. “I noticed a workshop in town I might go to.”

“You gave up kinda easy,” George looked at me even more suspiciously. “What exactly are you up to?”

“Seriously. When I was walking last night with Clancy I saw a sign about this workshop and remembered that I’d gotten a flyer about it at work.” I looked him in the eyes as he got up. “I thought that maybe you wouldn’t let me go with you today, so I decided to check out the workshop. Promise.”

George knew that it was hard for me to lie while making eye contact, so he said, “Okay. But how about I let you know if I need you?”

“Sure. However, won’t Chief Henderson be helping you?”

“Probably. He did say he’d let me handle the factory though, because Henderson relatives are everywhere, and it would be easier for me to be objective.”

“What about Detective Rawlings?” I asked.

“His mother was a Henderson.” George shrugged his shoulders in a “what can you do” kind of motion.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. This place was full of relatives of the victim, and we needed to find out if any of them were responsible for Cash Henderson’s death.

Plus, we had to do it quickly. My wedding was coming up fast.

George and I showered and then, after a breakfast supervised and served by an ever-perky Nibby, we went our separate ways. Nibby said he’d be happy to keep Clancy for the day, and I gladly agreed. She tried to plant a guilt trip on me, but I resisted.

George took the car to the factory and I walked to Worsham Hall, just a few blocks away.

As I arrived at the historic building I joined a line of women waiting to get in. I found a friendly face and said, “I’m surprised there aren’t any men here. Don’t they want to improve their lives?”

She laughed and we introduced ourselves. She was Coronation Wilson, and was the new assistant to the workshop presenter, Louise Shannon. I told her I had accompanied my fiancé who was in Henderson to investigate a crime. I neglected to mention that I was helping him.

“Why are you standing in line with the rest of us?” I asked.

“I’m kind of a spy,” she whispered. “Louise asked me to get the ‘feel’ of the crowd and fill her in.”

That intrigued me, but not enough to ask her for more information, because the line started moving just then.

Once the doors opened, everything happened smoothly and quickly. Those with tickets were ushered in directly, and the few of us without tickets stopped at a table.

“That will be two hundred dollars. Will it be cash or charge?” asked a woman in a tone that indicated she really didn’t care. She held out her hand.

“Two hundred dollars?” I asked. “The flyer I got at my office said fifty dollars.”

“If you read the flyer thoroughly you would have noticed it said quite clearly, “Fifty dollars in advance, two hundred at the door.” Neither her voice nor her hand wavered.

“Oh well, it’s tax deductible,” I muttered under my breath, thinking any workshop that was focused on mental health related to my job. I handed the woman my credit card and when she gave it back to me she included a receipt and a booklet.

I went inside the large, pleasant meeting room and found a seat at the back. It disappointed me, because I like to sit up front so I don’t miss anything, but all those seats were taken. The only good thing about being in back was that my seat was next to Coronation Wilson, Louise Shannon’s secretary.

“Hello, again,” I said.

“Hey,” Coronation responded, with that lyrical lilt Kentuckians have.

She was writing rather frantically in a notebook on her lap, so I decided to look around. The room was nearly standing room only, and I didn’t see a man anywhere. I turned to ask about that again, but was stopped by a microphoned throat clearing.

“Ladies,” the voice continued. “Most of you know me. My name is Sue Ann Henderson, and I am the regional director for Improve Your Life.” Everyone in the room applauded as if this woman were responsible for all the good things that had happened in their lives. I looked around again and saw gargantuan smiles plastered on every face but mine and Coronation’s, who was still writing.

Regional Director? What’s that about?

My thoughts stopped as I looked at the speaker again. She was holding her hands with the palms facing down, indicating we should stop clapping and for those who’d stood up to be seated.

A standing ovation for a Regional Director? Maybe I really should have read the flyer in my office before throwing it away.

An expectant hush replaced the applause as Sue Ann Henderson continued with her section of the program. As it turned out, her section was merely to introduce the star of the show… er, workshop.

“It’s trite to say that the person I’m introducing needs no introduction, but today it’s true.” The applause started again with a small ripple started by Coronation.

“So, that’s part of your job?” I asked her, while a grin took over my face.

She shrugged her shoulders, but smiled back at me.

The applause ripple died down quickly as Sue Ann spoke again. “Louise Shannon is…” The ripple resumed again, this time without Coronation starting it. Sue Ann waited with a smile on her face until the room quieted again. “Louise Shannon is…” Again, the applause took on a life of its own. Finally, her smile wavering a bit, Sue Ann tried a different tactic. “Our speaker is…” and it worked.

She began again. “Our speaker is someone we all know and love.” My immediate thought was,
I don’t know her and I certainly don’t love her.

Sue Ann continued, “She’s the reason we are all here.” Applause. Suddenly I felt like I was at a political convention. Everyone clapping and standing at everything.

“It’s going to be a long day,” I said aloud.

“Yep,” said Coronation. “Yep.”

Her response surprised me. While Sue Ann kept talking, I asked, “How long have you worked for Louise Shannon?”

“A few weeks.”

“Is this your first workshop?”

“Yes, but don’t tell anyone. I want to appear ‘knowledgeable and at ease.’” The last words were recited as if she read them from her job description.

“Are you from Henderson?” I asked.

She only nodded because the deafening roar of a few hundred women would have drowned out any words she might have said.

I must have missed the last part of Sue Ann’s introduction because when I tried to look at the stage all I saw were the backs of the attendees. Coronation and I were the only ones not standing. I quickly joined the throng, but Coronation stayed seated, still writing in her notebook. I guessed “standing ovations” were not on her job description.

Even though I stood, I still couldn’t get a good look at the person on the stage. Being short certainly wasn’t an advantage. Finally the applause slowed and bit by bit the audience returned to seated positions.

Sue Ann had already stepped off the stage and in her place stood a strikingly beautiful woman who resembled the picture on the flyer. Some people looked better in person. Louise Shannon was one of them. Her shoulder-length black hair looked like it had been plastered into submission, but at any moment could spring to life on its own. The effect was a good one, however.

“Welcome,” she said. Her voice dripped like butter off the stage. Maybe butter mixed with honey, it was that sweet. I found myself hanging on that one word, waiting for the applause to stop, so I could hear more from her.

“Welcome,” she said again when the applause subsided. Her smile held me, and coupled with her delicious voice, I had no choice but to hang onto the word. “I’m beyond pleased that you decided to join me today.”

I shook my head so that I could think clearly. I hadn’t drunk any Kool-Aid, but there I was, mesmerized by this woman, and as I looked around I noticed that everyone else was as well. Everyone but Coronation Wilson. I leaned over and whispered, “Don’t you just love her voice?”

She rolled her eyes, telling me there was a lot more to the story. I filed that away under “Interesting.”

Telling myself,
Just listen, don’t respond to what she says. Just listen,
I was then able to snap out of the spell she’d cast. As I looked around, this time with fresh eyes, I saw the audience members enthralled by what was being said by the speaker. What hold did she have over them?

I had tuned out so missed the rest of the welcome, but I’d been in workshops with charismatic speakers before. I knew how it worked, and was surprised I fell so easily under her influence.

“As most of you know, I started Improve Your Life ten years ago when I discovered the healing powers of the water from Happy Acres. I had it tested for purity and it passed exceedingly well. I also had it bottled so others could benefit from the same water I’d been drinking for years. So I invite you to ‘take the waters.’ Well, don’t take it, you have to buy it.”

A smattering of laughter followed. Louise’s own laughter lasted longer than her minions. I leaned over to Coronation again, “What’s that about? She selling water?”

Again a nod from the scribbling assistant.

Curious, I asked, “What are you writing?”

She hesitated before answering quietly, “A book.”

“Ooh, I love to read. Can we talk on a break or after the workshop?”

She nodded again but looked around her as she did so.

Hmmm. There’s an interesting story here, I’m sure.

I tuned back in to Louise. She was expounding on the properties of the spring water. I thought I’d probably buy a bottle to see what the deal was.

Then she said, “You can buy a gross for $288. If you sell each bottle for $5, as recommended, you will make a tidy profit. As you know, you can also recruit additional associates and they would buy their water through you. You will make $1 commission on every bottle that is sold through one of your associates. If your associates recruit other people you will receive 50 cents on each of their purchases, and so on.”

Applause again. Faces basking in the glow of Louise’s charm. Once I’d realized I’d been swept under her spell, I was able to opt out again, and found myself as a very interested observer of this phenomenon. However, I was taken aback by the fact that Louise was basically running a pyramid scheme. I’d bet she was getting the water for free, had found a place to bottle it cheaply, and was making a fortune off of her foot soldiers, who were selling it to the masses.

I wondered why this was advertised as a mental health seminar, and why I’d received a brochure in Quincy. Clearly these women already knew and loved Louise Shannon. It seemed I’d entered a Twilight Zone where I was the only one who wasn’t in on what was going on. Why would they let me in if I wasn’t “one of them”? Was this how they recruited members? Was the enthusiasm contagious?

I pondered the possibility that there was an additive in the water which would make it more than “just” water.

I poured myself a glass of water from the pitcher at my table without even thinking, and then realized the irony of what I’d done. No wonder I was feeling thirsty, after concentrating so hard on the property of water. Then I noticed that there were pitchers of water at every table. I turned to Coronation and said, “Is this water from Happy Acres too?”

She shook her head from side to side as she continued writing.

“Hmmm. Tap water?”

She nodded.

So my wondering continued. Why would Louise Shannon serve tap water when the Happy Acres water was what she was selling?

As if she read my mind, Coronation looked up from her writing and whispered, “She’s too cheap to serve ‘her’ water.” She looked around as if to make sure no one heard her but me.

My curiosity was piqued but I decided to wait until later to talk about things with Coronation.

By the end of the day I was exhausted. It was hard work trying to stay out from under Louise’s spell. I managed, but it took all the energy I had. And since she wasn’t able to exert a hypnotic hold on me, I saw her as she really was—a manipulative and scheming, unattractive woman. And I bet that Coronation would agree with me.