The Pinch of Death – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

Chapter 10. A Pile of Books

Neil Dettler rushed out of the room, his face red and the tips of his moustache quivering, suggesting he had not emerged unscathed. He offered Jacquetta her coat. She thanked him with her eyes.

“How about my coat?” He then inquired of a seemingly frozen Rose-Alice. Rudely, Jacquetta thought. But Rose-Alice meekly brought him a taupe garment festooned with flaps, buckles and straps, even helping him into it.

“Are they upset about my bequest?” asked Jacquetta. A reasonable – but unpleasant assumption.
“Oh, no, no, no,” said the attorney. “You didn’t get anything from their share – it’s the Jane Pride Home that got stiffed. They’re always like this where money’s concerned. They’ve been whirling around the old lady like buzzards for years. I’m thankful that it’s over.”

Rose-Alice held the door open for them and Dettler granted her a curt, “See you soon.”
“Definitely,” returned the au pair.

Dettler swept Jacquetta out before him. She was so accustomed to forceful men, that she began to dislike him.

“I’ve got your books in my car,” he said. “Much easier than waiting through probate. Avalon’s going to make the lives of anyone trying to enter this place a living hell.”

Jacquetta showed him the book she was carrying. “Rose-Alice found this in the trash.”

Dettler gave it a cursory glance. “I can see why. Well, perhaps it still has some value. That’s up to you, not us. Where are you parked? That far? I might as well drive you down there – books are heavy.”

And there were three boxes of them, completely filling Jacquetta’s back seat. Acquiring lumpy new possessions was NOT supposed to be part of my life plan, thought Jacquetta. Where could she donate these books? She doubted the convent would be interested. It might be worthwhile calling the Jane Pride Home to see if they see if they still wanted them. But that could prove more embarrassing. No doubt they would have preferred the six-thousand-dollars.

And Jacquetta wasn’t even going to get that money until probate was completed – which she recalled in her grandparents’ case was almost two years! And she needed to go through these books carefully to see if Miss Rainbeaux had left her message. Although she was much more likely to have left the message in this book – the one that had been destroyed.

Dettler interrupted this reverie, and Jacquetta could tell from the expression on his face that he’d probably spoken before a she’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard him.

“Drink? The Blue Goose is right down the street. Charged to the estate,” he hastily assured her.
“Perhaps another time,” she answered as smoothly as she could manage. “I’ve got an appointment.”

She would be having her drink at The Royal Mess. With Honey.