Read Online Dead End Street by Sheila Connolly - Free Book Online Page B

next time I looked up, Marty Terwilliger was standing in the doorway.

CHAPTER 7
    She slouched against the door frame and grinned at me. “To mangle Mark Twain, the reports of your death are greatly exaggerated.”
    â€œI’m so glad you noticed. Come on in and have a seat.”
    She did. “Seriously, Nell, I’m glad you weren’t hurt. That must have been a scary thing.”
    I wasn’t about to lie. “Yes, it was. Of course, I only realized that afterward—the shooting part happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think. I just threw myself out of the way.”
    â€œGood instincts. Make yourself a smaller target.”
    â€œAssuming the bad guys didn’t hang around. If they had stopped and come around the car to finish me off, there wasn’t a lot I could have done. And I don’t know how I would have coped without James.”
    â€œKnowing you, you would have put on a stiff upperlip and tried to pretend being shot at was a normal event in your life.” In a softer voice she added, “I’m glad Jimmy was there for you.” Even though she had a wealth of cousins, Marty had a soft spot for James.
    â€œProbably. I think it’s called denial. I’m told that’s bad for your mental health. So, what brings you here this morning?”
    â€œApart from making sure you were alive and functioning? My usual rounds to be sure the reshelving of the collections is on schedule and checking that the Terwilliger papers are safe.”
    Marty’s family had been among the leaders of Philadelphia for more than two centuries, and she could recite the entire family tree and tell you which houses they had lived in and what china patterns they had used. But she was not a pretentious snob, and she was involved in a number of worthy causes, quietly. When she couldn’t give money, she gave her time and energy, which was boundless. Her grandfather and father had left the extensive family papers to the Society, but they had each in turn kept an eye on them, as Marty was doing now. Terwilliger funds were paying part of the salary of an intern, Rich Girard, to help with processing the collection, but the recent renovations to the building had made that more complicated than usual. It was no surprise that Marty was keeping a sharp eye on both the collections and Rich.
    â€œAnd I wanted to kick around some way to follow up on what happened yesterday. To talk about Eliot’s board nomination. That enough for one morning?”
    â€œWell, you’ve already made sure that I’m alive, and thatJames is looking out for me, so let’s focus on your next point. How much do you know about what happened yesterday?”
    â€œStart from the beginning.”
    I complied, filling her in on the first contact with Tyrone and Cherisse, and my agreeing to visit the site, and everything that had gone wrong after that. She didn’t interrupt.
    When I was done, she said, “I have a vague memory of some comment at a board meeting that the Society had unloaded all the properties. It made sense: there was no way to try to manage them, especially when the staff was a lot smaller, and nobody wanted to pay someone else to do it. But there were quite a few of them, as I remember it. I can’t say I’m surprised that the paperwork got misplaced for one of ’em. Might be more, if anyone goes looking.”
    â€œI hadn’t even thought of that, but I suppose we should check now, just in case. Who should I ask to look into it?”
    â€œStart with the law firm. If they don’t have the records, they’ll tell you who to ask next.”
    â€œNot someone at the City?” I asked.
    She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Seriously? You know how backlogged they always are. Why do you think it took so long for them to notice this little snafu? I’m not criticizing, but the problem keeps growing, and the staff and funding don’t. Start with