War and Peas

detriment, she’d be much more likely to tell Lisa, who’s her friend, or Jumper, who’s the museum’s lawyer, or Whitney, who’s her fiancé. In fact, she’d probably have confided in Babs or even Sharlene before she’d tell Derek an important secret. And Derek, if he revealed anything, might have revealed it to Georgia, although I doubt even that.”
    Jane nodded. “Funny. The only person you didn’t mention was Caspar.”
    Shelley looked surprised. “That’s true. But we’re assuming that this secret, whatever it might have been, was told voluntarily. Caspar’s a great one for snooping around and eavesdropping. That’s how he knew about the Little Beauty pea. But to go back to your question about who’s better off now. Nobody.”
    Jane said, “I guess you’re right. Sharlene’s lost a good boss. Lisa’s lost a best friend. Jumper and Babs have lost their director and will have to spend a lot of time and effort finding a replacement.”
    Shelley added, “Georgia’s lost a lover. Whitney’s lost a fiancée. And Caspar had already lost a fortune he thought was half his, but the murders won’t change that.“
    “And Regina and Derek lost everything,“ Jane said quietly.

Twenty-three

    Jane and Shelley arrived at the museum early the next morning, determined to make up for lost time. They found a stranger in the boardroom, a gaunt, pale individual who looked alarmingly like the late Andy Warhol. He was seated at the center table with a lot of file folders spread around him.
    “Can I help you ladies?“ he asked, glaring at them as if they’d broken in and were planning to steal his files.
    Shelley introduced herself and Jane and explained that they were the volunteers entering information in the database preparatory to the move to the new facilities.
    As she spoke, his face relaxed. “I’m sorry if I sounded rude. It’s just that I had an ugly moment with some gawkers outside when I arrived. There was an article about Derek in this morning’s paper, and this couple, whom I assume to be badly disguised reporters, made no bones about the fact that they wanted to get in to pry.“
    “And you are—?“ Jane asked.
    He shook her hand. “I’m Eli Bascomb.“ He said it as if they should recognize his name, then added, “The accountant.“
    “I thought you were in Alaska or some place,“ Jane said.
    “I was. Due back next week anyway, and my brother’s kids were driving me crazy. So I used my frequent-flyer miles and came back for the board meeting today.“
    “There’s a board meeting today?“ Jane said, thinking irritably that she’d lose even more time at the computer.
    He glanced at his watch. “In about an hour.”
    Sharlene bustled into the room with a stack of papers. “You’re early, Jane. Hi, Shelley. Eli, have you got your papers ready for the board packet?“
    “Yes, right here.”
    Sharlene fired up the copier and busied herself making copies and collating them into neat piles. Bascomb rummaged around in his files. Shelley stashed her purse and collected her blank forms and clipboard. Somewhere in the hall outside, a radio was turned on and the sounds of “Bad, Bad Leroy Brown“ filled the air.
    Jane switched on the computer and while it was booting up, she set her purse next to Heidi on the shelf. As she did so, she inadvertently unbalanced the stuffed cat, which tumbled off the shelf. She made a quick grab and caught it as it fell. “Poor Heidi,“ she said quietly. She’d caught it upside down and turned it upright gently, hoping the fragile old thing hadn’t suffered any damage.
    Then she stood and stared into space for a long minute, her mind racing.
    Shelley was just leaving the room. Jane spun around and said, “Shelley, wait up. I need to have a quick word with you.”
    Holding the cat carefully, she all but pushed Shelley out the door.
    “What is it?“ Shelley asked.
    “Shh. Come with me,“ Jane said.
    They left the staff area, went through the central hallway, and found a quiet place in a corner of a deserted display room. Keeping her voice down, Jane said, “Look at the bottom of the cat.“
    “I’d just as soon not,“ Shelley replied.
    “No, the wooden thingy it’s mounted on,“ Jane said, turning Heidi over.
    On the bottom of the plaque like board on which the cat was mounted, there was a square of a different wood set in level with the base. A yellowed paper was stuck down to the insert and was tattered around the edges. There were a