Chapter 11
Once Tiffany’s thumb drive was out of sight and out of mind, I managed to edit two short stories and an article about the best way to encourage houseplants to grow. By the time I was finished and had fixed myself supper, I was too tired to do anything but go to bed. I slept soundly, and I felt well rested when the alarm went off the next morning, in spite of the fact that I’d set it for an hour earlier than I did when I was expecting workmen to arrive.
Darlene had an eight o’clock appointment with her eye doctor. Since she had to have her eyes dilated and Frank, who would ordinarily have played chauffeur, was committed to a golf tournament at the local links, she’d asked me if I’d do the honors. I was happy to oblige. Darlene had done plenty of favors for me since I’d moved back to Lenape Hollow.
She greeted me with a cheerful, “You’ll never guess what I heard last night!”
“You’re right,” I said, stepping into her living room. “Why don’t you just tell me.” Despite her tone of voice, I could tell she wasn’t feeling her best. She was seated in her wheelchair.
“Tiffany Scott made a will.”
“I suppose that’s a little unusual for someone her age, but—”
“She made it a week before she died, but that’s not the kicker. Wait for it—she left all her shares in Mongaup Valley Ventures to her grandmother!”
I took a seat on the sofa. “Huh! Bad for Mongaup Valley Ventures. Good for the folks opposed to Wonderful World.”
“Got it in one. Greg Onslow must be fit to be tied. I’m sure he expected to inherit everything.”
Remembering the heated exchange I’d overheard at the cemetery, I had to agree. “I gather Tiffany was an heiress.”
“She brought money to the marriage, that’s for sure.” Darlene shrugged. “We’re not talking billions, or even millions, but for this neck of the woods, she was rolling in it.”
“Did Ronnie get everything,” I asked, “or just the shares?”
“Just the shares. I think.” For some reason that brought a frown to Darlene’s face.
“How do you know all this? I didn’t think you and Ronnie were that close.”
“We’re not, but Frank played a round of golf with Mike yesterday afternoon, and Mike is the one who had charge of the will.”
“I thought he was a divorce lawyer. And retired,” I added as an afterthought.
“Yes, and yes, but he’s also an old family friend through Ronnie. He was close to her son and his wife and knew Tiffany from the time she was born. It’s not all that surprising that she’d have gone to him on a legal matter, especially if it was something she didn’t want one of her husband’s lawyers to get wind of.”
The more I heard about Tiffany and Greg’s marriage, the more unstable it sounded. It occurred to me that if she hadn’t made that will, the grieving widower might have found his wife’s death very convenient, especially if she knew about illegal activities on his part. Was there something incendiary hidden on that thumb drive? Was that why everyone was so anxious to get their hands on it? I really needed to buckle down and read those files . . . but not this morning.
“We’d better get a move on or you’ll be late for your appointment,” I told Darlene. “Will your scooter fit into the trunk of my car?”
“It would, if I were planning to take it. Breakdown takes less than a minute. The seat comes off, the battery comes out, and the rest folds up for storage. It’s also surprisingly lightweight, but there isn’t much room to maneuver at Dr. Shapiro’s office, so I’m stuck using the wheelchair.”
I got her settled in the passenger seat, collapsed the wheelchair, and stowed it in the backseat. As I made the turn from Darlene’s street and headed down a steep hill toward Main Street and the eye doctor’s office, I couldn’t help but notice that the trees, so colorful only a few days earlier, were rapidly shedding their leaves. We were coming up on one of the most dismal times of the year.
It was when we were approaching the next intersection that Darlene picked up where she’d left off criticizing Greg Onslow. “The more I hear about that man’s business practices, the more it ticks me off.”
I came to a complete stop even though there was no traffic and turned to look at my friend. She held herself rigid, more stressed than I’d ever seen her. I couldn’t tell if the root cause of her tension was something Onslow had done or if griping about him was just a handy valve to let off steam. Either way, her mood was infectious. I had to force myself to relax my death grip on the steering wheel.
“I’ll bet he insisted everything Tiffany inherited be tied up in joint accounts. Or maybe he just conned her into investing it all in his company.”
“That would explain why she owned shares.”
Darlene made a strangled sound. “I wonder how much they’re really worth? I wouldn’t put it past that man to declare bankruptcy and hightail it out of here with his ill-gotten gains.”
She continued grumbling in that vein until I pulled into the small parking lot in front of Dr. Shapiro’s practice. It was housed in a plain clapboard building, painted white. When we were kids it had been a furniture store. Big plate-glass windows gave me a clear view of the reception desk and waiting room.
I glanced at Darlene as I turned off the engine and removed the key from the ignition. “You don’t like Greg Onslow much, do you?”
She shrugged. “Nobody does. If he’s about to do a bunk, it won’t be the first time people who invested in his schemes have lost their shirts.”
The slight tremor in Darlene’s voice tipped me off. “You and Frank?”
“It was a couple of years ago. And it wasn’t all that much money, but it ticks me off that he took advantage of us.”
“If he’s a cheat, how is he still in business?”
“No proof. He claimed he took a loss, too.” She gave a dismissive little laugh. “You know the old saying—if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.”
“I don’t get it. If previous ventures were failures, why would anyone invest in a new one? How on earth did the Wonderful World project gain so much traction?”
“You haven’t seen him in action. He’s a smooth talker.” Darlene reached for the door handle. From the look on her face, you’d have thought she was going to face a firing squad.
I got out and retrieved the wheelchair. By the time Darlene was settled in it, she appeared to have beaten back her black mood. A wide smile brightened her face. To someone who didn’t know her as well as I do, it might even have passed for genuine.