Page 22 of Merry Murder Season
“Last night. He called to tell me he’d talked to our pastor and wanted to know if I wanted to do couples counseling. I told him I would, but I got to choose the counselor. Which made him mad. I know he wanted Les, that’s our pastor, because he agrees with Jim. His wife has barely left the house if she’s not doing an errand for him or the church since they were married. I’m not saying it’s a bad life, just not the one I want.” Beth stared out at the dry hills passing by. “Maybe I’m too old to be married. I’m set in my ways.”
“One, you’re not old. And two, I think Jim’s the one digging his heels in on changing. You’re doing something completely new for you. You’ll be teaching, learning, and writing. I think Jim’s worried you’ll outgrow him.”
When she didn’t respond, I glanced over at her. “But I’m not in the relationship, you are. You need to do what’sright for you.”
Beth smiled at me. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve been so worried about what Jim wants that I’ve forgotten that this is my life too.”
“Just tell him what you want. If he can’t deal with that, he doesn’t deserve you.” I pulled into a parking spot near the library. “Let’s go get you set up with a visitor card. Then I need to go make a stop. I’ll be back around three if that’s okay.”
We made plans to meet on the reference floor. I’d find her in one of the little study pods. Then I left to deliver my packages. And hopefully, I’d come away from one of my stops with a little more intel.
Chapter 9
After getting Beth settled in her happy place, I went into town and the business district. The California Central Coast Family Project was housed in an older building next to the courthouse. They were the last stop for kids before they got sent to a foster family. The charity tried to replace some of what got left behind when they were taken away from their parents. The building also had family rooms where parents could have supervised time with their kids, based on the court order and the situation. This was one part of family law I didn’t miss. I’d made the original suggestion to consider the group when Carrie was looking for a community project to support for the holidays. I still had friends in the legal field, even though most of them either thought I was crazy for giving up my law practice or felt envious thatI stepped away.
Christmas music filled the cozy lobby as I walked inside. A desk sat in the waiting room and the woman working on a laptop looked up. “If it isn’t our favorite bookseller. I didn’t think I’d see you here. I thought you were delegating. What? Is the trip back in time too much? You should come back to family law. You were one of the best.”
I’d hoped that the stop to the charity would be fast. Unfortunately, the woman greeting me knew me and my history too well. “Selma, what are you doing working? I thought you would be in Central America on your annual migration.”
“I finished visiting all the Central American countries last year. I’m heading to Peru next week, so I told them I’d work the desk until I left on Monday. I should bring you back something as a reward for sponsoring this event. Are you guys in it for next year too? Nancy’s already counting your donations into her budget.” Selma Woods loved life. She traveled almost as much as Judith and still held a full-time job as a social worker. She’d helped with several of my more involved cases during my lawyer days. “I’m glad Angie just took a break or I would have missed seeing you. You look good. Happy.”
“I’m great.” I caught Selma up on my life, including the recent marriage. Then I handed her the jar of money. “I’m just the bookstore owner. The book club determines what agency they’re going to support. But I’m sure they’ll keep you guys in mind. We had a few late donations along with the money from the bookstore collection jar.”
“Thanks. The women who brought the toys and cash a few days ago said there might be more coming in from South Cove, but I never expected this much.” Selma handed the jar over to a young girl who’d come out of the back. “Please count this and then give Mrs. King a receipt. Come in and sit down for a bit while we wait for Katie to finish that.”
“I really don’t need a receipt,” I tried to say, but she waved my words away and motioned me inside her office.
“Nancy wanted me to talk to you about the unfortunate incident that happened after the event. We try to stay away from events attached to drinking or gambling for just this reason.” Selma looked embarrassed to be bringing up the issue.
“You’ve had murders happen during events?” I didn’t like the way this wasgoing one bit.
“No, I mean we’ve never had this kind of situation. She wanted me to ask if maybe next year the event could be sponsored by a different organization. Like maybe the local diner. Or ajewelry shop.”
“I’m sure Chip’s won’t be sponsoring next year since the owner is dead, but sure, we’ll be more discreet on who we let donate to the kids.” I hoped I wasn’t sounding as snarky as I felt.
Katie walked in and handed me the receipt. “With what Carrie brought in on Sunday, you guys are our largest donors this season. South Cove donated over twenty thousand dollars this year. That will be tough to match next year.”
I stared at the receipt. When Carrie and I’d talked, she thought we could bring in about five from the tournament, if we were lucky. Where did the other thirteen thousand come from?
As I got into the Jeep and drove away from the charity, I called Greg. “Hey, something’s up with the money.”
“Our budget? Did I go over on food? I’m sorry. I ordered for the department the last two days, but Amy will reimburse us on the next check.” He sounded distracted.
“No, not our budget.” I explained how the donation exceeded ourwildest dreams.
“What’s the lady in charge’s name again? I think I’m about to ruinher Christmas.”
“You think it’s why Chip was killed?”
“Not talking about that, but you probably should leave before I make my phone call. They might start to yell at you.”
After putting my phone away, I drove off to Doc Ames’s funeral home. I’d checked, and he didn’t have any upcoming funerals, so hopefully he’d be doing paperwork in his office rather than down in his basement where he prepped the bodies for burial. I didn’t want to even try to visit him there. Even if he didn’t have a current customer, I had too good of an imagination to visit that room.
The front door was open, and as I wandered through the red velvet lobby with polished wood everything, I got a chill. I turned to see nothing, but I felt someone standing behind me. My imagination must be on overdrive. I knocked and opened the door. “Doc?”
“Come in, my dear. I’ve been expecting you.” He stood and poured me a coffee. “I know it’s late, but coffee goes so well with Sadie’s cookies. Did you bring oatmeal? They’re my favorite.”
“I don’t think you told me that before.” I handed him the bag of cookies and took the offered cup. I hoped I’d be able to sleep tonight. “I think there’s a few oatmeal in there. I’ll make sure next time.”
