Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
They reconvened at Nans’ apartment at the retirement center—a bright corner unit on the third floor with windows that looked out over the town square. The living room was cozy, decorated with vintage furniture and lace doilies, but it was the dining room where the real work happened.
The dining room table was already set with dainty plates and teacups—fine china with a rose pattern, the kind that had probably been a wedding gift sixty years ago. A teapot sat in the center, steam curling from the spout, next to it, a plate was piled high with christmas cookies.
Nans wheeled out her whiteboard from the corner closet—a relic from her teaching days, the frame slightly rusty but the surface clean and ready. She positioned it near the window where the light was good.
Ruth set down her iPad on the table with a soft click. Ida set down her purse with a soft thunk that suggested it weighed approximately fifteen pounds, mostly in contraband baked goods.
Helen poured tea into each cup with the precision of someone who’d been doing it for decades, then settled into her chair. She looked at each of them seriously. “Before we start, I want to be clear: we are not sneaking into town hall again like we had to do last time.”
Ida blinked innocently, her jingle-bell earrings clinking. “Who said anything about sneaking?”
Helen gave her a look—the one that could stop a rampaging toddler at twenty paces.
Ida picked up a teacup and sipped delicately, suddenly very interested in the rose pattern.
Nans uncapped the dry-erase marker with a flourish that made it feel ceremonial. “Let’s list what we know.”
She wrote in neat block letters:
Victim: Stanley Hooper
Location: Town hall storage room
Cause: Shelving collapse (maybe)
Then she drew a line beneath it and wrote in larger letters: Who Benefits?
Ruth looked up from her iPad, where she’d already been making notes. “Stanley ran the Holiday Lights Committee and controlled the toy drive funds.”
Helen frowned, setting down her teacup. “He controlled them? The toy drive funds?”
“Very tightly,” Ruth confirmed, scrolling through something on her screen. “He insisted everything went through him. Every donation, every purchase, every receipt.”
“That seems unnecessary,” Helen said.
Nans nodded, tapping the marker against her palm. “It also seems like someone who likes power.”
“And controlling money,” Ida added, reaching for a cookie.
Ruth tapped her iPad, pulling up what looked like a Facebook post. “And he raised booth fees for the Holiday Market this year. Vivian Bell was furious. She posted about it three times.”
Nans turned to the board and wrote Vivian Bell under the heading “Suspects,” her handwriting crisp and certain.
Helen set down her teacup thoughtfully. “Stanley also got into a shouting match with Pastor Wilkins’s wife last week. I overheard it at the senior center craft room. They were supposed to be making Christmas decorations, but they were arguing loud enough to hear over the glue guns.”
Ida’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Elaine Wilkins. The one who coordinates the angel tree gifts.”
“That’s her,” Helen confirmed. “Stanley said he wouldn’t approve extra money for coats ‘unless he saw receipts.’ Elaine told him he’d never seen a receipt for kindness.”
Ida sighed, pressing a hand to her chest. “That’s a good line.”
Nans smiled slightly and wrote Elaine Wilkins beneath Vivian’s name.
Ruth looked up again, scrolling through her iPad. “Also, Noah Hensley. He owns the Christmas tree lot out by the county road. Stanley insisted the town buy a new LED lighting system this year… from a supplier Noah was trying to compete with. Noah lost the contract.”
Nans added Noah Hensley to the list, the marker squeaking slightly against the board.
Helen counted on her fingers. “That’s already three suspects.”
“It’s never the first three,” Ida said, biting into a cookie.
Nans turned from the board, marker still in hand. “Then who is our fourth?”
Ruth’s eyes narrowed at her iPad, her finger scrolling down. “Eddie Parks. The maintenance supervisor. Stanley accused him of misplacing supplies and implied he was sloppy with town property. Eddie was very upset about it—my neighbor saw him arguing with Stanley in the parking lot last week.”
Nans wrote Eddie Parks beneath the other names, then stepped back to look at the board.
“Do we have any actual evidence?” Helen asked, her voice practical and grounded.
Nans tapped the marker against the board. “We have a collapsed shelf that was supposed to be anchored. That suggests either gross negligence or tampering.”
“Or Stanley anchored it himself and did a bad job,” Ruth pointed out.
Ida nodded sagely. “That would be tragic, but also very on brand for Stanley.”
Nans capped the marker and set it down on the table. “We need to know two things: who was in town hall this morning, and who had reason to be in that storage room before today.”
Helen picked up her teacup. “So we do what we always do.”
“Ask questions until someone slips,” Ida said cheerfully.
Ruth glanced at her watch, then at the others. “As long as we get home by seven.”
Nans picked up her own teacup, a small smile playing at her lips. “Of course, Ruth.”
Ruth looked at her suspiciously. “You’re patronizing me.”
“Would I do that?” Nans asked innocently.
“Yes,” all three of them said in unison.
Nans sipped her tea and said nothing, which was answer enough.