E Is for Evidence - Sue Grafton [27]
"Hello, Kinsey. It's been a long time," she said. She lifted her face to mine at that point, her gaze dark and snappish. Whatever energy had been drained from her limbs was being concentrated now in her eyes. She had high cheekbones and a strong chin. The skin hung from her face like tissue-thin kid leather, lined and seamed, yellowing with the years like a pair of cotillion gloves. Like Ashley, she was big: wide through the shoulders, thick through the waist. Like Ash, too, she might have been a redhead in her youth. Now her hair was a soft puff of white, gathered on top and secured by a series of tortoiseshell combs. Her clothes were beautifully made-a softly draped kimono of navy silk over a dark red silk wrap-around dress. Ashley helped her into a chair, pulling the tea cart within range so her mother could supervise the pouring of tea.
Ash glanced over at me. "Would you prefer sherry? The tea is Earl Grey."
"Tea's fine."
Ash poured three cups of tea while Helen selected a little plate of cookies and finger sandwiches for each of us. White bread spread with butter, sprigs of watercress peep-ing out. Wheat bread with curried chicken salad. Rye layered with herbed cream cheese and lox. There was something about the ritual attention to detail that made me realize neither of them cared what I was wearing or whether my social status was equivalent to theirs.
Ashley flashed me a smile when she handed me my tea. "Mother and I live for this," she said, dimples appear-ing.
"Oh, yes," Helen said, with a smile. "Food is my last great vice and I intend to sin incessantly as long as my palate holds out."
We munched and sipped tea and laughed and chatted about old times. Helen told me that both she and Woody had sprung from the commonplace. His father had owned a hardware store in town for years. Her father was a stone-mason. Each had inherited a modest sum which they'd pooled to form Wood/Warren sometime in the forties. The money they'd amassed was all fun and games as far as they were concerned. Woody was dead serious about the run-ning of the company, but the profits had seemed like a happy accident. Helen said he'd carried nearly two million dollars' worth of life insurance on himself, considering it a hot joke as it was the only investment he knew of with a guaranteed payoff.
At 5:00, Ash excused herself, leaving the two of us alone.
Helen's manner became brisk. "Now tell me about this business with Lance."
I brought her up-to-date. Ash had apparently filled her in, but Helen wanted to hear it all again from me.
"I want you to work for me," she said promptly when I finished.
"I can't do that, Helen. For starters, my attorney doesn't want me anywhere near Lance, and I certainly can't accept employment from the Wood family. It already looks like I'm being paid off."
"I want to know who's behind this," she said.
"So do I. But suppose it turns out to be one of you. I don't mean to offend, but we can't rule that out."
"Then we'd have to put a stop to it. I don't like under-handed dealings, especially when people outside the com-pany are affected. Will you keep me informed?"
"If it's practical, of course. I'm willing to share any-thing I find. For once, I don't have a client to protect."
"Tell me how I can help."
"Fill me in on the details of Woody's will, if that's not too personal. How was his estate divided? Who controls the company?"
A flash of irritation crossed her face. "That was the only thing we argued about. He was determined to leave the business to Lance, which I didn't disagree with in principle. Of all the children, Lance seemed to be the best qualified to carry on once his father was gone. But I felt Woody should have given him the clout to go with it. Woody wouldn't do it. He absolutely refused to give him control."
"Meaning what?"
"Fifty-one percent of the stock, that's what. I said, 'Why give him the position if you won't give him the power to go along with it? Let the boy run it his way, for God's