'No. Officer Needham found a death certificate for her. She died in 1989.'
'Wasn't there an alternative trustee?'
'Yes, a bank in a little town that seems to have disappeared since the trust was done. It's simply a ghost town now'
'What if you never find them?'
Mel said, 'It's possible that's how it will turn out. But I don't want to simply give up on this. She was murdered. These people are somewhere, and I'm determined to find them.'
Jane already knew, but this reinforced her confidence that she was going to marry a very honorable man. He probably wouldn't have even liked the woman if he'd ever met her in person, but he was determined to find out who murdered her.
'Want to take a quick look at how your office is coming along?' she asked.
'I'd love to.'
'I've told Mr. Edgeworth to put another door in the room going directly out into the backyard.'
'Why?'
'So if you need to suddenly go somewhere, you don't need to go clear through the house and can get your car out of the garage faster.'
Mel merely smiled. 'I'd have never thought about that, but it is a good idea.'
They went outside to stare at the semiroom. The shape of it actually looked like a real room. Even though there were no walls yet, where the doors and windows would be was obvious. So was the shape of the roof. There was even a hole for a skylight.
'Jane, in spite of my guilt about you spending all this money, I'm going to love having this room to myself.' He gave her a big hug and a really good kiss.
The time passed quickly and Jane asked Shelley if she'd come along to her book signings.
'You have a driver and it seems tacky to impose on him or her. I'm not fighting the traffic to get downtown, but I'll certainly be at the second one in the suburbs.'
'I guess you're right.'
The driver was a woman named Barbara Smith, and very pleasant. She called Jane the day before and said, 'I've called ahead to several chain stores making sure they'll have copies of your book handy for signing. I'll pick you up at nine-thirty so we can have plenty of time for the ten o'clock signing downtown, and we can grab a sandwich between there and the other store.'
'I'll be ready. Is there anything specific I need to take along?'
'Just a colored pen. Anything but black. And don'toverdress. You want to look like an average person. Not a prima donna. See you tomorrow.'
The first signing went really well. The bookstore was tiny and there was already a short line of people, mostly women, standing on the sidewalk outside. The bookstore owner was standing in the doorway and shook Jane's hand and thanked Barbara for being a little early. 'Jane, do you need a drink before your talk?'
'Just a glass of water, please.'
When she got inside, she was impressed that they had a huge poster on the wall with her picture and the cover of the book.
'How did you do that?' Jane asked.
'I didn't. Your publisher sent it last week. Stand to speak and I'll be at your side to open the book to the page you want to sign. It moves things along a lot faster.'
Jane, having never done a book signing, was surprised at how considerate this was. Or simply the norm?
When the crowd outside found places around the room, the bookseller stood and introduced Jane. 'She's a brand-new author. And I've read her book already and enjoyed it enormously. She has a real gift for words. We can take a few questions, then we'll get on with the signing.'
The first person to put her hand up was a very young woman in dreadlocks and a big smile. 'I already read your book as well. I wonder how you knew so much about the time you were writing in.'
'I did a lot of research,' Jane said with a grin and
added, 'I didn't use anything but the most interesting things I discovered. I wanted it to be an historical mystery, not a textbook.'
'Thank you, Ms. Jeffry. That's good advice. I'm writing a novel myself,' she said proudly before sitting down. 'I wish you good luck,'Jane said.
The second question was about Jane's background. 'Have you always lived in Chicago?'
'Only after I married. My dad is a diplomat with a gift for foreign languages and my parents always took us along to the countries where he was working. That's why I've stayed where I lived in the same house for all these years.'
'What's your husband think of your book?'
'My husband died in a car accident when our children were young. And I'm about to be married for the second time late this summer.'
'Oh, how nice,' the bookseller said. 'Now we'll start the signing. I'm glad we have such a crowd. My assistant has passed out little notes so you can spell your name for Jane. Or the name of whom you're also buying a book for.'
They both sat down at the table and the bookstore owner started opening the books to the title page.
Jane took a mental count of how many she'd signed and by the time she was done, she estimated she'd sold thirty-seven.
She stood back up, flexing the fingers of her right hand before shaking the bookseller's hand and thanking her.
'That's almost a record,' the bookstore owner said. 'All too often, authors only sell ten or twenty. We've sold out all I ordered and I will order more today. You said all the right things to interest readers.'
Barbara Smith was standing at the front of the store. She also thanked the bookseller.
She opened the passenger door for Jane. 'Your hand got quite a workout.'
'I'm not used to handwriting anymore except to write checks,' Jane said with a laugh.
