Secrets to Die For, page 8
“Are you looking for a particular book, Harriet?” Nina hoped to learn why Harriet showed such interest in the library project yet declined to participate.
Harriet frowned and dropped the books back into the box. “I’d really like to find the cookbook I loaned Ellie. Have you come across the books she donated?”
Ah, the cookbook Ellie borrowed. Could the book somehow be connected with her death? “No, we haven’t. But I’ll certainly let you know when I find her donation.”
“Are you sure you don’t have a box of her books?” Harriet folded her arms and planted her feet apart. “I could look through it myself.”
“I’m sure, Harriet.” The woman’s persistence made Nina even more curious about the book’s importance.
Harriet strode to the storage closet, opened the door, and peered inside. “What’s in here?”
“Just supplies.” Nina heaved a sigh. Didn’t Harriet trust anything she was told?
Harriet shut the closet door. She wandered around the room for a few more minutes then finally left.
“Whew!” Lily swiped a hand across her brow. “I’m glad she’s gone. She made me nervous.”
“Why is she so fussed up about one cookbook when she gave the library a whole box of her books?” Selma propped her hands on her hips.
Mabel shook her head and narrowed her eyes. “There’s somethin’ strange about that woman.”
“Strange?” Nina frowned. “What do you mean?” She, too, had always sensed something unusual about Harriet. Hopefully, Mabel had information she could add to her suspect list.
Mabel made a sweeping gesture to include the entire room. “She just doesn’t fit in here at Marley.”
“She’s an outsider because she’s so wrapped up in herself and her career,” Selma said.
“She has accomplished a lot.” Nina transferred a stack of books from her workplace to where Selma and Mabel sat.
“Maybe so, but does she have to keep reminding us? The rest of us weren’t exactly dullards. I was once Teacher of the Year for my district.” Selma straightened and lifted her chin.
Lily carefully removed a sticker from the roll and affixed it to the spine of a book. “My son’s a dullard. But, then, he takes after his father.” She twisted her lips. “What I ever saw in that man I’ll never know.”
Lily’s declaration led to a conversation about children and erstwhile husbands. Nina listened with amused interest.
Then Mabel waved her pendant watch. “Oh, my, I see it’s time for mah date.”
“Date!” Lily stared. “Who with? I thought I was the only one around here with a man.”
Mabel giggled. “With Jeffrey Richards.”
“Who’s he?” Lily and Selma exchanged glances.
Mabel ducked her head and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Come on, Mabel,” Selma begged. “Tell us.”
“Oh, all right.” Mabel waved a hand. “Jeffrey Richards is the doctor in that new show on channel seventeen. He is sooo handsome.”
“Oh, you mean a TV date.” Selma folded her arms. “Not a date with a real man.”
“The best kind.” Mabel patted her hair. “Ah don’t have to cook for him or clean up after him. Ah can just sit there and admire him.”
Nina joined in the ensuing laughter, glad her committee could enjoy themselves while contributing to the new library. At the same time, Harriet’s appearance and her preoccupation with the book she loaned Ellie renewed Nina’s determination to find out what that matter was all about. Did Harriet have something to do with Ellie’s death, after all?
****
After the women left, Nina inspected their work and found they had sorted nearly a hundred books. Not bad, considering all the distractions. She stacked the boxes against one wall where they would be out of the way until the contents were shelved. As she worked, she thought again about Harriet Hambly. Her constant bragging was annoying, but Nina found something pathetic about her, too. She seemed such a loner. Ellie had been her friend, but now she was gone.
What about the book Harriet wanted to locate? Was the book really a cookbook? Nina had found no box of donations from Ellie. But perhaps she put her books singly in the donation barrel Nina placed in the lobby, where they became mixed with other people’s books. Unless they were labeled with Ellie’s name, identifying them would be difficult if not impossible.
Maybe she should check the storage closet. She’d told Harriet only supplies were inside, but she could be mistaken. Nina stepped into the closet and turned on the light. The shelves held boxes of bookends and office supplies, such as paperclips, pencils, and pens.
Underneath the bottom shelf sat several larger boxes. Nina pulled out the nearest container. An inspection of the contents revealed paper plates, cups, and napkins left over from when the room was used for meetings. Another box held old newspapers and a scrapbook someone had started about the home. She made a mental note to deliver the scrapbook to the office. Perhaps another resident would continue documenting Marley’s history.
The last box was full of books, both paperback and hardback. Nina pulled out a paperback and opened the cover. “Ellie Larkin” was written on the flyleaf. Her heartbeat quickened. Had she located Ellie’s donation at last? She examined a few more books and found all of them inscribed with Ellie’s name. Who had put them in the closet, and why? Had they been separated from other donations by design or by mistake? Whatever the reason, she was relieved to have located Ellie’s books. Now, to find the volume belonging to Harriet and, hopefully, to discover why Harriet was so obsessed over its return.
Nina tugged the box from the closet. Then the thought occurred that she might not want to be interrupted in her search. She went to the hallway door and looked out. No one to the left, but to the right, a shadowy figure stood in the recess housing the elevators. Harriet? Or someone else? She craned her neck for a better view but still couldn’t identify the person. Presently, a ding sounded as an elevator door opened, and then a swishing noise as the door closed. Nina exhaled the breath she’d been holding.
Still, she waited. No one entered the hallway, and all was quiet. Empty hallways at Marley had never bothered her before. Now, all of a sudden, viewing the deserted, shadowy corridor sent a shiver down her spine.
Nina closed the door and twisted the lock, not only to shake the creepy feeling but also to prevent Harriet’s interruption, should the insistent woman take a notion to return. Nina dragged the box of books to a table where she could sit and comfortably inspect them. The volumes numbered about three dozen and were an eclectic assortment, mostly old novels. A few travel guides were included, although too out of date to be useful, along with a book of world history that probably had monetary value in the book-collecting world. She grouped the categories together for future inspection and possible inclusion in the Marley library.
The next book she pulled out was titled Cooking on a Budget. The cover showed a smiling, though younger, Harriet Hambly, wearing a chef’s hat and chopping vegetables on a cutting board. Harriet had been right, Nina thought, experiencing a niggle of guilt as she paged through the attractive, lavishly illustrated book. Well, as soon as possible, she would personally deliver the book and set Harriet’s mind at ease. Then the woman would have no more reason to disturb the committee’s work.
Nina laid the cookbook aside and removed the last remaining book from the box. On the cover, in embossed lettering, was the word “Shasta” and under that, the date 1965. Ah, a high school annual. Shasta High was in Monroy, Iowa. Was this Ellie’s high school annual? Nina searched the various class portraits and, sure enough, she found Ellie’s picture in the seniors’ section.
Attempting to reconcile the image with the confused and fearful woman she encountered at the lake, Nina studied the photo. Young Ellie, with a smile on her lips and her shoulder-length hair, appeared full of life and promise. What had happened to her in the intervening years? Had being abandoned by her fiancé soured Ellie on life and turned her into a bitter old woman?
My father abandoned me, and today I worry about Stephen leaving. We have something in common, Ellie and I. Even though Nina had been only five when her father left, she could, when reminded, still feel the emptiness and, yes, the fear, his absence created. Had Ellie experienced similar reactions?
Thinking about feelings froze her insides, and Nina shook her head to clear away the troublesome memories. She refocused on Ellie’s annual. Maybe something in her past would cast light on what happened the night she died. What had Ellie accomplished in high school? What were her interests? Consulting the book’s index, she located Ellie’s name and several page references.
One page was for Math Club, which made sense, since Ellie had been an accountant later in life. Another reference led to a feature about the Science Club. A picture showed Ellie with several other students at work in the school laboratory. The last was for Home Economics Club. A picture of that group displayed several boys and girls in school’s kitchen. Nina spotted Ellie, dressed in a white blouse, a pleated skirt, and saddle shoes, standing by the stove. At a nearby table, a student poured batter from a bowl into cake pans while several classmates looked on.
The student pouring the cake batter caught Nina’s eye. Was that a butterfly birthmark on the person’s right hand or a flaw in the photograph? A magnifying glass would help. She retrieved one from the cupboard and returned to the picture.
The magnifying glass examination confirmed her original supposition, and excitement rippled along her spine. The student had a birthmark in the shape of a butterfly on the right hand, just like Harriet Hambly. And yet, how could this person possibly be Harriet?
Tracing her finger along the caption under the picture, Nina gasped. The person pouring the cake batter was male, and his name was Harry Kirkwood.
Chapter Nine
As realization dawned, Nina continued to stare at the picture. The person who lived at Marley Manor as Harriet Hambly had been born Harry, or, more likely, Harold, Kirkwood. Flipping the pages, she looked up Harry’s name in the annual’s index. His portrait was in the senior class section, the same as Ellie’s. The reddish hair, the snub nose, and the freckles showed an unmistakable resemblance between the young Harry and today’s Harriet. While Harry’s short haircut, suit jacket, and tie identified him as masculine, a softly rounded chin and full lips hinted at the latent feminine side.
When had Harry officially become Harriet? Nina did not think Harry was simply masquerading as a woman. No, the transformation appeared complete. He must have had a sex-change operation, after which, as Harriet, she carved out a successful career as the home economist icon. Years later, she and Ellie Larkin, perhaps by coincidence, came to live in the same retirement home. Ellie spotted the unique butterfly birthmark and recognized Harriet as her old school pal, Harry.
Gripping the book, Nina paced the room, putting together the scenario. Upon reconnecting, Ellie agreed to keep Harriet’s secret. But then she had crazy spells where she talked about knowing people’s secrets, and Harriet feared Ellie would slip and reveal hers.
Even though Ellie might be dismissed as only confused, people would whisper and wonder. Worse yet, Ellie might show Harry’s picture in the school annual to someone who would then know Ellie spoke the truth. Although many people who underwent sex-change operations were quite vocal and open about their experiences, Harriet might not be among that group. She could be particularly sensitive about her past life and not want anyone in her current life to know she had once been a man. Too, she had her reputation as Harriet Hambly, the renowned cook and TV icon, to protect.
Sinking back into her chair, Nina put in order the ensuing events. Harriet wanted Ellie to give her the annual, and she refused. As Ellie’s confusion increased, her ramblings became more and more frequent. In desperation, Harriet followed Ellie to the lake on that dark, rainy night. Perhaps Ellie climbed onto the dock on her own, or perhaps Harriet, who was the bigger and stronger of the two, dragged her there. She pushed Ellie off the dock and into the cold water. Then, before Ellie could recover, Harriet ran to shore, waded into the water, and held down Ellie’s head until she drowned.
The all-too-vivid scene sent a shiver down Nina’s spine. Yet, the incident could have happened as she imagined. Harriet Hambly could very well be a murderer. The annual, not the cookbook, was the book Harriet was really looking for.
Nina ran her fingers over the annual’s embossed letters. If the book was so important, why had Ellie donated it to the library? Perhaps in her confused state, she hadn’t realized she’d included it in her donations. Whatever, the annual might be an important piece of evidence. Still, with no actual proof of her supposition, she would keep the book at home while pursuing her investigation. Laying aside Harriet’s cookbook to later give to the woman, Nina then put the annual into a manila envelope and tucked it into her tote. She straightened a few piles of haphazardly stacked books, gathered the category sheets strewn about the table, and dragged the now-empty box back to the closet.
She slipped into her parka and slung her tote over her shoulder, moving the bag around to the front so she could keep a grip on it, just in case. She thought about stopping by Jessica’s apartment but decided the hour was too late. Besides, she wanted to be away from this place that had suddenly taken on an aura of danger.
Hurrying along the deserted hallway, she looked over her shoulder to make sure no one—namely, Harriet Hambly—was behind her. The elevator creaked and groaned in a way she had never noticed before and seemed inordinately slow lowering her to the first floor. The reception area, including Hilda’s desk, was empty.
Before she reached the front door, someone jumped from a wing chair and stepped in front of her, blocking her way. Apprehension skittered down her spine and then changed to annoyance as she recognized Roger Blanton. “Roger! For heaven’s sake, you startled me. What are you doing here so late?” Why was he here at all, now that Ellie was gone?
He stuck both hands on his hips. “Meeting with Director Marshall. Some last-minute details about Auntie’s service on Sunday.”
The use of the childish term “Auntie” by this fiftyish, barrel-chested man made Nina want to giggle. But the fierce scowl on his face, obviously directed at her, quickly chased away the urge. A skitter of the fear she experienced a moment ago returned, and she tightened her grip on her tote. “Oh? Is the memorial all planned?” She stepped sideways to go around him.
He matched her steps, still blocking her way. “I guess so.”
“Good. I’ll be there. I’m on my way out now, though, so if you’ll excuse me?” Nina glanced over her shoulder at the receptionist’s desk. Still vacant. Where was Hilda? She needed a witness to this confrontation.
Roger finally moved aside.
Nina hurried to the sliding glass doors. They swished open, and she stepped outside. At the same time she realized he was still behind her, she heard the doors shut with a resounding click. At this time of night, the doors automatically locked, so returning to the building was not an option.
Turning, she faced him. “Did you have something else you wanted to say?”
“Yeah. I’ll walk you to your car. Mine’s in the same lot.” He nodded to the parking lot.
Unease rippled through her, and she narrowed her eyes. “How do you know our cars are in the same lot?”
“I saw you when you arrived. C’mon.” He took a step forward, stopped, and waited.
Nina had parked in the south lot, as she had the night Ellie died. Although the grounds were well lit, she didn’t relish walking to her car with Roger. She neither liked nor trusted him. Reaching into her purse, she found her car keys, curling a forefinger around the vial of pepper spray attached to the ring.
Yet, did she really think he murdered Ellie? In light of what she learned this evening, Harriet Hambly now seemed the more likely culprit. “What’s on your mind, Roger?” she asked as they walked along. A cool breeze blew off the lake, and clouds hid the rising half moon.
“I want to know if you’ve discovered any of Auntie’s secrets.”
She’d never tell him what she just discovered in the library. “No, I haven’t. Why?”
He stuck out his chin. “She was my aunt, and I should know if she had secrets. ‘Specially now that she’s dead.”
Nina reached the end of the building and, eager to reach her car, stepped onto the path leading to the south parking lot. A thicket of evergreen trees lined the driveway on either side. To the left, tiny dots of light beamed from distant houses. To the right, spots of illumination came from the lamp posts in the parking lot. Although the rain had ceased, the roadway was slick. The wet surface would freeze overnight and in the morning be a silver sheet of ice. But tonight held a more immediate worry. Nina shivered and quickened her steps, anxious to be rid of the troublesome Roger Blanton.
“What do you know about Harriet Hambly?” Roger poked a finger at Nina.
Nina tensed but kept up her pace. What made him ask about Harriet? Had he spied on Nina in the library? No, impossible. She closed and locked the door before inspecting the album. “I barely know her. She was Ellie’s friend, and she’s built a reputation as a chef.”
Roger waved a hand. “Yeah, but something’s going on with her.”
“What do you mean?” Nina hit gravel with the toe of her boot, scattering the small stones into the nearby shrubbery.
“She wanted me to let her into Auntie’s apartment tonight to look for a cookbook of hers she said Auntie had.”
The cookbook? Or the school annual? “Did you let her in?”
“I don’t have a key. Auntie changed the locks and forgot to give me one. I had a key before. I needed one, with her living alone and all.”
“I see.” Nina found Roger’s information interesting. Most likely, Ellie changed the locks and forgot on purpose to give him a new key.
“Anyway, what about Harriet?” Roger frowned and leaned close. “Does she really want to look for her cookbook or for something else?”
