I’ll be in early tomorrow.”
“You take all the time you want, Nell. You did good work today, or last night, I guess. You know what I mean.”
“I hope so. See you tomorrow.”
I drove home in a foggy mood. Traffic was surprisingly heavy. Although there was little evidence left from the storm of the day before, the sky was overcast, and the light was gloomy. I arrived home later than usual and pottered around trying to cobble together a meal.
I was dozing on the couch when the phone rang. My watch said eleven. I answered it to find Shelby on the other end of the line. “Turn on your television, fast. Any network news.”
I scrabbled for the remote and clicked on to the local ABC affiliate. The lead story was apparently about a major fire in Gladwyne. Still sluggish from my half sleep, it took me a moment to realize I recognized the house: Hadley’s. “Shelby, you still there?”
“I am. You seeing what I’m seeing?”
“Hadley Eastman’s house in flames.” I realized that the scene I was looking at had taken place in daylight, probably a dozen hours earlier. “Was she there?”
“Nope, she was still at the police station. But I bet we’ll be hearing from her on the morning news.”
“I’d count on it. Thanks for the heads-up, Shelby. See you in the morning.”
After I ended the call, I sat on the couch, dazed. Was this Joe the electrician’s final revenge, from beyond the grave? Or had Hadley taken a little time to rig something up before she headed into the city this morning? One thing was clear: Hadley was going to get the publicity she had been looking for.
CHAPTER 34
Of course I turned on the news when I woke up the next morning, and was not surprised to see interviews with a tearful but brave Hadley, who was no doubt thrilled to be labeled “the well-known author of” et cetera. The whole timing of the fire made me suspicious, but Hadley had an airtight alibi, since she had been at police headquarters when the fire started.
It occurred to me that there was a small chance that the exhibit opening, or at least the upscale kickoff event, might be postponed due to Hadley’s troubles, but I was willing to bet that Hadley-brave woman that she was-would find a way to soldier on. Somehow the news about Hadley’s house fire had catapulted her back to the top headline, and Hadley’s publicist had managed to twist the stories of Joe’s unfortunate death and Hadley’s tragedy together and suggest that poor Hadley was the unfortunate victim of circumstance. I’d bet that her book sales soared, at least for a day or two. When I called Arabella to check whether the reception was going forward this evening as planned, she said that Hadley had insisted that the show must go on, despite her personal tragedies. Why was I not surprised?
With the events of the previous day and night still swirling in my head, I made my way into work. I was pleased to find Eric already at his desk when I arrived. “Mornin’, Nell. There’s a message for you.” He handed me a slip.
I took it into my office, and after hanging up my coat, I looked at it and was surprised to find that it was from James. “Eric, when did this come in?”
“This morning, early, before I got here. It was on voice mail.”
That was curious-why would he be calling when he knew I wouldn’t be at my desk? Or maybe he’d just missed me at home. I checked the number: from his office. There was only one way to find out what was going on, so I picked up the phone and called. He answered on the second ring.
“Hi,” I said brightly if not intelligently. “You called?”
“Hi, Nell. Yes, I did. What are your plans for today? I’ve got something to talk over with you.”
“Nothing on the calendar until five, when I was planning to go to the reception at Let’s Play.”
“Let’s Play? Oh, for the new exhibit. How about I meet you at the reception, and maybe we can have dinner after?”
So it wasn’t official business. “That sounds nice. Should I tell Arabella to expect you?”
“I think I can manage to wangle my own way in. See you then.” He hung up.
Interesting. He’d told me nothing, and now I had to spend the day wondering what he wanted-the jerk.
And then I remembered that there was something I really needed to do. I left my office and went to stand in front of Eric’s desk. He looked at me anxiously. “Everything all right?”
“What? Oh, the FBI call. Yes, no problems. Listen, Eric, I just realized that your probation period has ended. You still want the job?”
His expression morphed from anxious to hopeful. “I sure do. I really like it here.”
“Then it’s yours. You’ve been a big help, and I know you can be discreet. Welcome aboard. We can worry about the paperwork later.”
He jumped to his feet, grabbed my hand, and shook it vigorously. “Thank you so much, Nell. You won’t regret it. But could I maybe get a computer now?”
I laughed. “I’ll work on that.”
I muddled my way through the day. Midafternoon I went down to the reading room to have a word with Felicity, who was at her desk despite a nearly empty reading room. “Hi, Felicity. Thanks for helping Barney out-he seemed thrilled yesterday with what you’d found.”
Was she blushing again? “It was fun. I love sports history, so it’s a treat to have to dig into our collections for a patron. And he’s a very nice man,” she ended primly.
“I agree. I hope we’ll be seeing more of him here.” And I’d venture that Felicity hoped so, too.
At quarter to five I sent Eric home and took a cab over to Let’s Play. I had to admit, as the cab approached the old building, that it looked surprisingly festive in the gathering dusk. There were strings of tiny lights attached almost everywhere possible. I paid the cab fare and walked through the front door: the tiny lights continued inside as well, making the shabby old industrial building look like a fairyland. Even Furzie sported some sparkling strings, plus a knit hat with a pom-pom.
An employee inside the door took my coat and spirited it away, and I turned to study the crowd. The exhibit was on the second floor, at the rear, and the party sprawled over both the first floor and the remaining space on the second. Even this early the place looked well filled, and there were a good number of children running around, excited. Young servers circulated with trays of hot hors d’ oeuvres. I snagged a glass of white wine from the downstairs bar, helped myself to some of the yummy savories, and set about trying to find Arabella, Caitlin, and Hadley. Of course, my efforts were hampered because along the way I had to stop to greet and chat up the partygoers I knew or recognized-the work of a fundraiser, even a promoted one, never ceases. When I finally made it up the stairs, I found the key players all clustered together in an informal receiving line. Arabella looked radiant; Caitlin, at her side, looked relieved; and then there was Hadley, impeccably clad in a clinging red dress, holding forth in front of a small cluster of admirers. I caught snatches of her conversation.
“Oh, I’m completely devastated! My poor little cottage, gone! So many memories, and such lovely treasures. But I can only be happy that no one was at home when it happened.”
I tuned her out and turned to Arabella, who threw her arms around me. I struggled to hang on to my glass without drenching her. “Oh, Nell, isn’t it wonderful? Everyone came! And people were calling all day, asking if they could attend or bring a guest. And the head of the electricians’ union is here, and he brought friends! Isn’t that kind of him? That should really help with our PR. I was so worried!”
As I scanned the room, I could tell that Barney had done what he had promised-this went far beyond the usual society crowd. “It all looks terrific. I’m so happy for you. And for you, too, Caitlin-looks like you pulled it off. Congratulations.”
Caitlin’s face lit up. “Thanks! I’m really happy with how it turned out. Maybe I’ll stop by and say hi one of these days. Excuse me.” She was pulled away by someone with a question.
There was one of those curious lulls between waves of people, so I took the opportunity to pull Arabella aside. “She’s doing well,” I said-more statement than question.
“She is,” Arabella agreed. “I’m so proud of her! I knew when I hired her that people might talk, but even with
