Rachel Alexander 04 - Lady Vanishes

over Eli’s role had Eli died first. So why should it be so the other way around?
    ‘The fact is, I’ve been doing a great deal of this all along. I’m not only familiar with what Harry did, I’ve always done a lot of it. Harry wasn’t always around, and even when he was, he was a busy man, into other things as well, though Harbor View is where his heart was.
    “Harry convinced me that I was the one who could best keep Harbor View going in the way he’d been able to. When he was alive, when he was saying it, it seemed so logical. And neither of us thought this would come up so soon. He was seventy-four, but he was a vigorous man. We didn’t think this would be an issue for years and years.”
    “Did Eli know you managed the money?”
    Venus looked down. “Not really.”
    “Not really?”
    “I don’t believe Harry ever mentioned it.”
    “Which means what, Venus?”
    “That he thought Eli would be insulted that he trusted me and not him. But Eli isn’t a money person.”
    “What about his sons?”
    “Samuel is just like his father. He’s totally devoted to the kids, and just as naive about business. Nathan probably thinks he could run Harbor View because of his fund-raising experience. And he has raised money for us, mostly finding backers for specific projects. But none of Harry’s decisions were made purely on the basis of return on the dollar. The welfare of the kids was always most important to him. He was funny, Rachel. He wouldn’t bat an eye about spending thousands on equipment, anything they needed. But if he was around at night, he’d go around shutting off lights to save money. I had to convince him that leaving the garden light on was a safety factor. He used to shut it off after the kids went to bed.”
    “And Nathan—Harry thought he wouldn’t be able to handle the money the way he did, the way you do?”
    “Well, no. Despite Harry’s stingy quirks, he always put the kids first. He thought Nathan was too bottom-line. That’s the phrase he used. Too bottom-line. It’s a different generation, he used to say. People of that age tend to be—“
    “What?”
    “More self-centered.More materialistic.”
    “Some people. Not everyone. Maybe he was judging too much by his niece and nephew.”
    “Maybe.”
    “You’re not like that.”
    “Harry thought I was different,” Venus said, her voice almost a whisper, her eyes shining.
    “Venus, when Harry left that day, the last day, was he going home?”
    “Yes.”
    “And where was that?”
    “My apartment. That was our home. He went back a few times a week to the apartment he had shared with Marilyn to check his mail, his messages, take care of things. Even then, he didn’t sleep there. He’d come home late so that he could sleep in his own bed, our bed. He said he never wanted us to spend the night apart.”
    I nodded.
    “So he was facing south because he was heading south, not necessarily because he’d heard the bike coming toward him on the sidewalk?”
    She nodded.
    “Did Harry want to announce the marriage?”
    “He did.”
    “Then why didn’t he?”
    “I begged him not to, at least not so soon. I didn’t want his family to think ill of him. Marilyn was gone so short a time. But they say that when a marriage has been happy, people want to get married again quickly. He was crazy about her, Rachel. But how would you explain that to her sister, given the circumstances? You know how families are.”
    “I do,” I said.
    After she left, I went upstairs to change. Then Dashiell and I headed for the Archives, Venus’s keys in my pocket.

Chapter 18
    Maybe Harry Owned a Boat

    I bought some yellow daisies on the way to the Archives, something to pave the way.
    “Venus asked me to take these upstairs, put them in a vase for her, she’s coming back with company,” I said, showing the concierge the daisies and the keys.
    This was a new one. He frowned, trying to decide what to do.
    “I work for her,” I told him, “at Harbor View. We do pet-facilitated therapy with the residents.”
    He leaned over the concierge desk, looked at Dashiell. Then he nodded.
    I walked back to the bank of elevators, barely feeling the floor in my new sneakers as I followed the wide, deep lobby around to the left.
    We rode up alone, walking down the carpeted hallway until we came to Venus’s door. Opening it, we faced the river through double-height windows looking west. The afternoon sun filled the living room. I walked down the hallway,