Elizabeth C. Main - Jane Serrano 02 - No Rest for the Wicked (8 page)

U
n
fortunately, Desmond McCutcheon reminded me of a popular drama professor I’d had in college long ago. He’d wowed the young women on campus with his wit and wisdom, especially those who hadn’t been away from home long enough to recognize clichés. Young enough at the time to sit entranced through his lectures, I hadn’t realized until years later that he had lifted most of his mannerisms straight out of old Cary Grant movies. His
“
original
”
ideas were anything but.

“
If Bianca will be so kind as to introduce me, I’m ready to commence.
”
He arranged a pair of half glasses and took pages from his briefcase.
“
I gave her some introductory remarks, you know.
”

“
Apparently, Bianca’s been detained. If
you could wait just a minute,
s
he spoke
last
night
of her planned
introduction.
”

Another end run around the truth. I was getting good at this. I just hoped that Bianca had conjured up something to say, if and when she actually arrived.

“
She did seem most eager.
”
He gave a tiny smile. The promise of Bianca’s presence had definitely been the right carrot to lead this middle-aged horse to Thornton’s today. Dr. McCutcheon dismissed his aged and ailing audience with a cursory glance.
“
Hmm. Let’s wait for Bianca then. I require a glass of water nearby for my presentations.
”

Velda materialized at my side carrying the requested water. Having her here was better than hiring a personal assistant.

She turned to me anxiously.
“
Alice Durand said she’d come, but she’s not here either. And where’s Minnie? She was bringing lemon scones.
”

Eileen spoke up from her perch in the front row.
“
Minnie promised me poppy seed pound cake.
”

“
She’ll be here soon.
”
I hoped Minnie had somehow found time to bake pound cake in addition to last night’s scones
. S
he slept little and baked whenever the urge struck. Pr
obably just as well
Fred was in Washington this week helpin
g his sister move
.
Minnie’s husband could stand to drop a few pounds
,
as
could
the Hedstroms.
Was visiting Alix this morning a legitimate reason to renege on a promised pound cake? Anything short of a death in the family likely wouldn’t constitute a legitima
te excuse for Phil and Eileen.

I took momentary heart as the front door banged into the wall, assuming Minnie and Bianca had arrived with their usual panache. But it was only Laurence stomping in, followed by Alice Durand. They wore identical scowls. This
whole
group could use a quick double shot of Bianca’s sunny disposition and Minnie’s refreshments.
To be fair, a
recent feature in the
Juniper Journal
highlighting the prevalence of elder fraud in rural Oregon had
made
the
m understandably nervous and
focused on Dr. McCutcheon’s topic
.

Of course, Laurence was always cranky when people cluttered up his bookstore. He liked books better than people, and he wasn’t about to change at this late date. It always worked best when someone other than Laurence waited on his customers. Still,
he
seemed even more agitated than usual today
. Maybe there was something to Tyler’s concern.

I didn’t bother urging Laurence to stay for the meeting. His oft-stated position was that the Save Our Seniors group was for old people, not him.
“
Bah! Old fools deserve whatever happens to ’em when they lose their money. Should
spend their time
reading, not watching TV.
”
He made his way straight through the room and up the broad staircase. Most likely he’d hole up in the history section and read about the glories of ancient Rome until the meeti
ng was over.

Alice Durand took a seat in front and folded her skinny arms over her chest.
P
erpetually tired and resentful, her scowl was nothing new,
but
I couldn’t really blame her for her sour attitude. Her widowed father had socked away money over the years, but last year
,
a con man had
threatened him with legal action about some imaginary debts. The old man,
confused and
terrified that he’d be locked up, had withdrawn savings from his bank account and handed the money over without a word to Alice, who’d discovered the problem the next month.
T
he con man had
disappeared. Now Alice cleaned houses six days a week, after which she went home to tend to her aging father’s needs. Her one pleasure in life was to plot revenge on that con man and others like him. This group provided
her with a focus for her anger.

Essentially the same scam had been tried on Velda’s
Aunt
Eleanor, but Eleanor had become suspicious before losing
much money. Outraged at being defrauded, she’d alerted the authorities immediately. Unfortunately, in the two years since, her health had deteriorated, making it
impossible
for her to leave her home
.
N
ow Velda worked through the SOS group on her aunt’s behalf to educate seniors about such predators. Other SOS members had either experienced something similar in their own lives, or feared that they might. I felt a twinge of pity for Dr. McCutcheon, who had come hoping
only
to
impress
a lovely young woman.

As Bianca flung open the door, scattering apologies and sunshine
,
I sighed in relief. She not only let in the warmth of the June day, but she bore a large tray of scones. Minnie pattered along in her wake, hoisting what looked like the highly
anticipated pound cake. The mood of the room immediately brightened, as I had expected. Now, if only Bianca had prepared appropriate remarks to introduce our speaker.

After s
etting down the tray, Bianca turned to Dr. McCutcheon and, with her first words, made his day.
“
Dr. McCutcheon, we’re thrilled and honored that you’re here today. Everyone already knows you’re an expert on the subject of elder abuse, but
even
you
don’t
know
how e
special
ly
appropriate
it is that you
’re here
this morning. We just found out something really, really important. That m
an who was murdered
was a
criminal, a con man.
”

She turned to face the audience
before finishing with
a
flourish.
“
He was actually one of those people
like the ones Dr. McCutcheon will tell us about today
.
S
omeone here could
even
have been one of his targets.
J
us
t
think what could have happened
—
to any of us
—
if he was still out running around.
Dr. McCutcheon, y
ou can help us understand just how close we all
came to such a dangerous man.
”

Bianca impulsively grasped both of Dr. McCutcheon’s hands.
“
Thank you for being here
.
”

If I’d had any doubts that Bianca’s introduction would lack punch, she’d just laid them to rest.
I only hoped that she hadn’t breached Alix’s privacy by sharing more information with us than Alix had given the sheriff.
Short of stripping to her underwear, she could hardly have focused the attention of the audience with more skill. Dr. McCutcheon’s entire demeanor had changed to that of a man who had just won the lottery, though he did his best to appear suitably grave.

I took care of intermittent store business while he outlined scams ranging from home improvement rip-offs to telephone fraud, touching on problems often arising from an obsession with sweepstakes entries. His audience listened, spellbound. He might be a pompous windbag, but he was a knowledgeable one. Old Mr. Jorgenson valiantly took notes with his arthritic hands, while Serena Wannick had he
r pocket tape recorder running.

By prior arrangement, Velda was asked to repeat her aunt’s history as an object lesson in the problems that could occur when a swindler came to town. She bravely spoke up, in spite of her chronic shy
ness about addressing a group.

It was only when Mr. Jorgenson offered Velda sympathy that she became reluctant to
continue
.
“
Young thing like you ought to be jetting off to Tahiti, not stuck at home with your aunt all the time.
”

“
I’m fine, really,
”
she murmured.
“
And
Aunt Eleanor needs me.
”

“
When was your last day off?
”
he pressed. When she didn’t answer, he said,
“
Thought so.
”

At this, Dr. McCutcheon
urged Velda to
obtain
some respite care for her aunt, citing statistics that showed the toll taken on caretakers’ health when they didn’t get regular relief from their duties.

Alice snorted at the very notion.
“
Sure, if you have money to throw around.
”

From Velda’s downcast eyes, I surmised that was not the case in her situation. Minnie had said recently that Velda had hired someone to do occasional housekeeping now that Velda’s back problems were getting worse. With that added expense, and Eleanor’s lengthy illness, there probably wasn’t much money left over for discretionary spending, either in Oregon or Tahiti.

At the close of Dr. McCutcheon’s presentation, he was besieged. Alice demanded to know why the governor let this stuff go on, and launched into yet another description of how her father had been cheated of his life savings.

He cut her off with a brusque,
“
Unfortunate, but common.
”

“
Easy for you to say. It wasn’t your life savings,
”
Alice said.
“
How’d you—
”

“
Thank you once again for coming, Dr. McCutcheon.
”
T
hough
I felt sorry for Alice
’s
hard life, our speaker wasn’t in a position to help her
.
I hurried to close the meeting with a round of applause.
“
You’ve given us a lot to think about. Now, would you care for some refreshments?
”

Dr. McCutcheon backed away from Alice’s determined advance.
“
Sorry, but I, er, must return to campus.
Immediately.
”

“
In that case, Bianca, could you see our guest out? And Minnie, I’m sure you have some takers for your refreshments. Oh, thank you, Velda.
”
Velda was limping toward me with the platter.
“
Here’s Minnie’s pound cake.
She put
the lemon scones on the counter over there.
”

“
Never too late for either one.
”
Phil and Eileen Hedstrom rose and hesitated, unable to decide which snack to sample first. They looked at each other in understanding and then separated, each to stake out a claim
on
several of the treats to share.

I snagged a piece of pound cake and
offered it to Alice as
a peace offering
.
“
Would you like some?
You could
take a piece
to your father
, as well
.
”

Alice was having none
of
it.
“
I come for information, and I’m already behind on my work. Expected more outta the meeting, too. Stuffed shirt’s what he is.
”

I risked a look behind me
.
Bianca had successfully shepherded Dr. McCutcheon off the premises and out of earshot of Alice’s continuing vitriol.

“
Never worked a day in his life. Did you see those fingernails? Manicured, sure as anything. What’s he know?
”