Authors: Gin Jones
"Wes Quattrone has his eye on the Avery property too," Helen said. "It's part of his expansion plan."
Cory looked up from attaching the tiny pieces of pale-blue-not-white trim to one of the windows. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," Helen said. "He's got a scale model—nowhere near as nice as the golf course, of course—for his plans, and it covers both the community garden and the Averys' lot."
"That's odd," Cory said. "RJ definitely seemed amenable to selling the property to the town. Said he couldn't do it during his father's lifetime, but after that, we could talk numbers. He didn't say anything about another offer, just that he wasn't planning to stay in Wharton after his father was gone. Although he did seem a bit nervous yesterday when I ran into him at the pharmacy. Probably thought I'd heard he'd made a deal with Quattrone."
"Quattrone must be awfully sure the town is going to sell the garden land if he's making other deals to go with it," Helen said. "Has he tried to pressure you to vote in favor of the sale?"
Cory shook his head. "I haven't talked to Quattrone in weeks. He knows I'm not too happy with him at the moment. I had to have a chat with him awhile back about the parking and traffic issues on the street because I've been getting complaints from the local residents. Including RJ, in fact, who's always having trouble with his driveway getting blocked. Quattrone insisted there was no parking problem, but I put him on notice that he needed to do something about it."
"Did anyone else try to sway your vote? In favor of selling, I mean?"
Cory glued up another piece of trim. "Marty yelled at me a bit after he started managing the construction company. You heard the tail end of that. And there were a few other loud calls from residents whose pet projects could have used the money from selling the land, but I've heard worse. All part of the job."
"Nothing more serious than usual?"
"No." He stuck the trim in place and then frowned. "Why? It's not that big a deal. Not really. I mean, Wharton is a small town, and people get all wound up about little things, but the money we'd get from selling the land wouldn't make much difference to our overall budget."
"It's just that I've heard rumors about less-than-savory investors in Wharton Meadows. They might use strong-arm tactics to make sure the expansion could go forward."
"I've heard those rumors," Cory said. "There's always someone who wants to be the first to tell me the latest gossip. But I don't have any reason to believe they're true. Then again, I didn't have any reason to research the owners of the retirement community, and Quattrone wouldn't exactly volunteer that information if it was true."
Too bad Helen hadn't paid more attention to what was going on here in town when Wharton Meadows was originally built. Back then, she'd only been a summer resident here, so she hadn't paid attention to new construction, but she would have had the contacts to get all the dirt on the owners within minutes. Now she was dependent on her niece's skills and contacts. And, for once, Lily wasn't hovering over her aunt, asking if Helen needed anything.
"I've got a call in to someone who can tell me more about the financial status of Wharton Meadows."
"Do you really think someone connected to the retirement community might have killed Sheryl in order to keep her from buying the garden land out from under them?"
"I don't know," Helen said. "It's just a theory."
Cory shook his head. "I should never have played politics with the garden. If I'd made it clear earlier that I'd never vote to sell the land, Sheryl might still be alive."
"Even if that's why she was killed, you can't blame yourself," Helen said. "Besides, there's no real evidence to suggest it's true. I mean, why kill her before they'd convinced the board of selectmen to sell the land? Quattrone had to have known that you were the deciding vote, so the first thing for them to do would have been to make sure you were voting in their favor. Otherwise, it wouldn't matter whether Sheryl was alive or dead."
"Unless Quattrone knew that I was her heir and assumed that I'd want to go forward with Sheryl's plan to buy the land for the company since I now owned it and would benefit from it. I'd have had to recuse myself, and in that case, the vote would be tied, and the mayor would have had to break the tie."
"What's his stance on the sale of the land?"
Cory grimaced. "He doesn't have a stance. He's a typical small-town politician. Much worse than me. He always waits until he sees how the wind is blowing before he takes a position."
"What if Quattrone bribed him or threatened him to convince him to take a stance?"
"The mayor doesn't have an opinion of his own, but he's basically honest," Cory said. "I can't see him taking a bribe. Giving in to a threat against him or his family, though—everyone's susceptible to that kind of pressure. But really, I think that's the sort of thing that only happens in the movies. I think there has to be some simpler explanation for what happened to Sheryl."
"Like what?"
"I wish I knew," Cory said. "I know the police are looking at Dale for it, but she believes in peaceful protest. With all the causes she's adopted, she's lost more than a few battles over the years, even some involving Sheryl, and Dale has never once come close to getting violent."
"I hope you're right."
Cory's smartphone, sitting on the table near the saw, beeped. He went over to check it. "Sorry. I've got to go sign for a package being delivered. I'll be right back."
Helen checked her own phone as Cory left, on the off chance she'd missed a ping. No returned calls from her nieces though. Just a text from Tate to say he was tied up in court until 1:00, if she could wait a bit for lunch.
At least he wasn't canceling entirely, she thought as she texted back that she'd see him then. He'd get a totally swollen head if he knew how anxious she was to talk to him again. If she were being as honest with herself as she was with other people, she'd have to admit that she didn't just want his insights into Sheryl's death. Their lunches together were the highlight of her days, even when the food was mediocre and she couldn't remember afterwards what they'd talked about.
Perhaps at lunch today she ought to tell Tate what she'd come to realize just now—that she could never be anything more than friends with Cory. She probably wouldn't have even considered the possibility if Tate hadn't put it into her head by acting jealous. But now she knew for sure. Today had felt like a second date after a first one that had been nowhere near a love-at-first-sight experience but pleasant enough to agree to a second one. Which had then turned out to be just "meh." Not bad exactly but not sufficiently better to be worth pursuing a third date.
She wasn't sure where that left her with Tate. Neither of them was looking for a committed relationship, and in any event, both of them had baggage that made that sort of commitment tricky.
Cory reappeared. "Sorry about that. Are you hungry? There's a great diner just down the street."
"I've already got plans."
He seemed so disappointed that Helen felt the need to cheer him up but without giving him false hope. She glanced around, looking for something nice to say about the latest addition to the golf course. The toy bulldozer caught her attention, and then she noticed some marshy areas that had been created near the back edge of the garden, complete with weedy little cattails.
"You really do a great job with all the water features," Helen said. "I never would have thought to add marshlands."
"I'm not sure why I do it," Cory said, his disappointment forgotten. "They're something of a nuisance. Not just for the golfers who lose their balls in them but also for me to maintain. I just couldn't help it in this case. That's where they are in real life."
Helen thought back to the plans in Quattrone's office. There hadn't been any water features on them. In fact, if she remembered correctly, there were paved parking lots where Cory had wetlands. "Are you sure that's where they are?"
"Absolutely." Cory led her over to the drawing tacked to the back wall of the strip mall and flipped it over to reveal additional pages, each one providing a different view of the property near Wharton Meadows. "See? I've got the topological maps with the wetland overlays from the assessor's office. There are wet patches in the back of both the community garden and the Avery property."
"Aren't those protected areas, then? Places that can't be touched?"
"Definitely," Cory said. "The gardeners work around the wet areas. The Avery house was built before anyone worried about wetlands, but the senior Avery was an environmentalist before it was popular. He let that area revert to its natural condition decades ago."
"So if Wharton Meadows expanded over here, they couldn't just pave over the wetlands?"
"Not unless they create a comparable wetland somewhere else on the property," Cory said. "In fact, the existence of wetlands was another reason why I thought acquiring the land for the school would be good. The students could learn about the wetland habitat in addition to the more artificial environment of a garden."
Maybe the wetlands had been replicated somewhere in Quattrone's plans, and Helen just hadn't noticed them. But if they weren't on the plans at all, that would tell her a lot about him. If he planned to ignore protected habitats, he was either delusional or he was prepared to commit all sorts of illegal acts to get his expansion, starting with bribery of governmental officials and possibly going as far as murder. Dale would make sure that the local conservation commission and planning board took things like wetlands very seriously.
Helen needed to see those plans again.
While Jack waited for instructions on where to drive next, Helen called Quattrone's office to arrange another appointment with him. The assistant apologized profusely, explaining that he was at a meeting with the mayor and wouldn't be back for at least an hour. He did have an opening in his schedule then, but there was no guarantee he'd come directly back to the office instead of stopping off to get lunch.
If Quattrone was running late, then Helen might be late for lunch with Tate. Still, she needed to see those plans and how they addressed the wetlands in the garden and the Averys' property. Tate would understand. Unless he hadn't gotten over yesterday's silliness.
"I'll risk it," Helen said to both herself and the assistant. She hung up to ask Jack to take her to the nursing home where she could pass the time until Quattrone would be in his office.
A few minutes later, Helen signed into the nursing home and went looking for Betty and Josie. Helen wished she'd remembered to bring her yarn bag when she got into the car this morning, but she'd been in too much of a rush and still a bit foggy from oversleeping.
Helen stopped in the doorway of the activity room to look for her friends. Betty and Josie weren't in their usual seats by the fireplace, although their yarn and their layette projects were still there saving their spots. Helen scanned the room, finding them in the puzzle lady's corner, chatting with her. Geoff had apparently arrived just before Helen and was in the process of sitting across from Daisy. The puzzle lady gave him her lopsided smile and then held out her good arm, offering him a puzzle piece.
Geoff didn't hesitate to take the offering and lean forward to search for where it belonged. He was a good man. And good at his job. It wasn't the glamorous, Pulitzer Prize-winning work he'd once aspired to do, but he made a difference in people's lives by listening to them and sharing their stories. Despite the successes Helen had shared with her husband establishing programs that helped thousands of people, in the end, it was probably the small, everyday actions that really mattered. Like RJ taking care of his father, Paul Young nurturing new gardeners, and Betty and Josie making chemo caps. Helen would like to think she'd also done some good deeds since moving to Wharton between her volunteering at the library, contributing yarn to the Charity Caps Days here at the nursing home, and even catching the occasional murderer.
The two elderly women seemed to have realized they weren't needed at the puzzle table any longer and were heading toward their usual spot near the fireplace. Helen caught up with them halfway there.
"So, did you solve the murder?" Josie asked eagerly as she approached her chair.
"It wasn't murder," Betty said from behind her. "Just an accident."
Helen dragged a chair over to sit with her friends. "I'm afraid that Josie's right. The investigator said the death was suspicious, and the bulldozer's key is missing, which does suggest there was someone else there when she died."
"See?" Josie picked up her crochet hook and what looked like the beginning of a yellow bootie to go with the dozen other pairs she'd already made for Laura. "I told you it was murder. No way Sheryl Toth was going to die of something so mundane as an accident that could happen to anyone. Not with all the enemies she's made. Starting with the town clerk. I mean, I like Dale and all, but she really hated Sheryl. More than anyone else did."
"Dale wouldn't kill anyone." Betty's current project was a little purple sweater. "She knows how, of course, from her military training, but she would never hurt anyone except in self-defense."
"Or to defend someone else," Josie insisted. "She thinks of the environment as a living being. Even more so when it comes to the community garden."
Betty looked up from her knitting. Apparently, even she had to pay attention when she was doing a lacy pattern. "Dale didn't do it."
"You don't think anyone did it," Josie said to her friend before turning to Helen again. "What about the owner of the retirement community? Wes Quattrone. He wanted to buy the community garden's land."
Helen agreed that he was a prime suspect, but she wasn't sure if she was being as biased as Detective Peterson was, looking for a reason to pin the crime on someone she disliked. She decided to play devil's advocate. "He's lost out to Sheryl on other deals without killing her. Why would this time be any different?"