'Now, I've set up two chats and then signings for next week in your area. One of the mystery bookstores is downtown, one is suburban.'

'Chats?'

'Just a few minutes to say a little bit about yourself Why you took up writing, or where you grew up, or whatever you feel strongly about. Make it upbeat and smile the whole time. And then ask if anybody has questions. If they don't, the bookseller will start putting the books out for you to sign. If there are too many questions, the bookseller will know how to tactfully cut them off

'Your driver will then take you to other major chains. She will call ahead to make sure they have the books readyfor signing. Oh, sign them with a colored pen. That way readers won't think it's a machine-made signature.'

Jane laughed. 'I never knew there was such a thing. Any other advice?'

'Just smile all the time, no matter how tired your hand feels. I'll e-mail you the times and the names of the booksellers and the name of your escort.'

'May I take someone along?'

'Do you need someone along?'

'My neighbor and best friend would like to go with me, and give me a heads-up if I quit smiling,'Jane said.

'I don't see why not. And congratulations on your first book. I've read it and loved it and I understand the second one is already here. I'm going to snag a copy as soon as they copyedit it.'

'Thank you for being so patient with a newbie, Sandy. I'll take all your advice.'

Jane hung up and did a little dance around the living room, scaring Max and Meow, who were sleeping curled up together on the sofa.

'I'm a real writer now, kitties,' she said, giving them both neck scritches.

Chapter

TWELVE

J

ane invited Mel to come to dinner. She had a copy of her book already signed for him. 'To Mel, With Love, From Jane.'

She'd made crispy fried chicken breasts, mashed potatoes, and overcooked green beans with onions and bacon. Good old comfort food. After dinner she gave him the book.

'I hope you'll read it. It's really a book women will enjoy more than men. Then you never have to read another one if you don't want to.'

'Jane, I intend to read every single one of them.' 'Really and truly, you don't have to read them.' Quickly changing the subject, she asked, 'How is your

case about Miss Welbourne going?'

'Slowly. My bright new assistant has found Welbournes that may or may not be her children.'

Jane asked, 'Is this new assistant pretty?'

Mel laughed. 'Not especially. But she's smart and dogged.'

'So how did she find these people?'

Mel explained about the temp at the front desk filling in for the hungry guy who was eating lunch.

'She is clever,' Jane agreed. 'Do I understand that you're not sure they are related to Miss Welbourne? Granted, it's a strange name, spelled strangely.'

'According to Officer Needham, there are quite a few people and places in England spelled that way. And even more in Australia.'

'These people were from Australia?'

'So their passports said. And they were here in Chicago the week she was murdered.'

'Where are they now?'

'They told the young man at the desk that they needed a car to take them to the airport for a particular flight to San Francisco.'

'Are they there?' Jane asked.

'We don't know yet. I've put in calls to the chief of police. So far there's no sign of them. They've contacted the big expensive hotels, and have gone to the less expensive ones and even to a few bed-and-breakfast places. It's possible they're just staying with friends. Or they could have lied to the clerk at the Chicago hotel and are already back in Australia or somewhere else.'

'If they're found, are you going to take DNA samples?'

'Only if they give permission. For all we know, they might be second cousins or something and they were in Chicago for some other reason. The one who claimed to be the brother might have a business with a Chicago office.'

'At the same time she was murdered?'

'Anything's possible.'

'But unlikely,'Jane said. 'There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?'

'You're as clever as Officer Needham, aren't you?' Jane bridled. 'I certainly hope so. I wouldn't want to be outranked by your assistant.'

'No chance. But she has found out a little bit about this trust thing.'

'What trust thing?'

'The copy that was in Miss Welbourne's lockbox at the bank. It names a trustee for her children. No names. Just her children. The trustee was an aunt, apparently, a woman named Maud Brooker. Written in 1968.'

'How was the trust funded?' Jane asked. She herself had a trust done for her own children years ago, but she had been sure to name her three children.

'By some stocks in an excavating company that must have had terrific dividends, is my guess. But my assistant can't find them. There's a mention in a newspaper in 1979 about the company merging with another company. And later that company merged with yet another.'

'Excavating what?' Jane asked.

'Who knows? Digging basements for the suddenly rich Aussies? Strip mining for minerals? Nobody seems to know.'

'Is the aunt still living?'

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