I'll Walk Alone - Mary Higgins Clark [61]
Penny was by nature thrifty. That was why another thing that Rebecca had told her about Gloria Evans—that Evans didn’t bat an eye about paying for a year’s lease when she only planned to stay for three months—seemed strange.
There’s something going on with that lady, she decided. She wasn’t just being rude. She was downright nervous when she answered the door. I wonder if she’s doing something illegal, like selling drugs out of there? No one would know if someone came late at night and turned onto that dead-end road. Sy’s is the only house on it.
I’d love to keep an eye on the place, she thought. The trouble is, if Gloria Evans happens to be at the window she’ll see me driving past, then turning around and coming back. If she is up to anything, I’d be tipping her off.
As Penny, her lips pursed, applied bright red lipstick, her only tribute to glamour, she began to laugh, smearing the lipstick on her cheek. “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said aloud. “I know what’s bugging me about that Evans bird. She reminds me of the Moreland woman. Isn’t that a riot? Wait till I tell Alvirah that I was trying to hatch a mystery. She’ll get a real laugh out of that!”
41
Charley Shore could not conceal his look of astonishment when Josh opened the door of Moreland Interiors and he saw the rolls of carpet stacked against the walls and covering the floor of half the office.
“It’s a misunderstanding with one of our suppliers,” Josh began to explain.
“No, it isn’t,” Zan corrected him. “Mr. Shore, or Charley, since we’ve agreed we’re on a first-name basis, somebody is ordering materials on a contract that we don’t have yet and has hacked into my bank account.”
She really is out of it, Shore thought, but was careful not to show any reaction except concern. “When did you find out about this, Josh?”
“The first indication was the other day, when someone bought a first-class one-way ticket to South America in Zan’s name for next week and charged it to our business account,” Josh said, his tone carefully matter-of-fact. “Then there are bills for expensive clothes charged to Zan’s store accounts. Now we’re hearing from our suppliers about carpets and fabrics and wall hangings that we didn’t order.”
“Josh is trying to convey to you that he thinks I’m delusional and doesn’t believe that there’s a computer hacker at work,” Zan said, calmly, “but there is, and that shouldn’t be too hard to prove.”
“How did the orders to the suppliers get placed?” Charley Shore asked.
“By phone, and — ,” Josh began.
“Give Charley the letter, Josh,” Zan interrupted.
Josh handed it to the attorney, who read it carefully. “This is your stationery,” Charley Shore asked.
“Yes,” Zan said.
“Is this your signature, Zan?”
“It looks like mine, but I didn’t sign that letter. In fact, I’d like to take it to the police station with us. I believe that someone is impersonating me and trying to ruin my life and my business, and I think that person has taken my son.”
Charles Robert Shore was an experienced criminal lawyer with an impressive list of verdicts that favored his clients to the point that he was a thorn in the side of many prosecutors. But now for a split second he regretted that his friendship with Alvirah Meehan had put him in the position of defending her clearly psychotic friend.
Choosing his words carefully, he asked, “Zan, have you reported this identity theft crime to the police?”
Josh answered for her. “No, we haven’t. Too much has been going on in the past few days. You can understand that.”
“I would agree,” Charley said, quietly. “Zan, I don’t want this problem to come into the conversation with Detectives Collins and Dean today. Can you promise me that you won’t bring it up?”
“Why wouldn’t I bring it