Winner Takes All

The beautiful quilt was up for auction – and there was no doubt it would boost the campaign funds . . .

ELLEN looked down from the stage at the sea of elegantly laid tables below. Red, white and blue streamers hung from the ceiling, and the small dance floor gleamed.

She tried to imagine what it would look like when the band was playing, the candles were lit and the room hummed with women in sparkling evening gowns, and men in dinner jackets.

She must learn to call them tuxedos, she reminded herself.

And she and Tyler would be among them. Only another couple of hours till she would be back at the house, and he would have arrived home from Maine.

“Where’s the auctioneer going to stand?” Pattie broke into her reverie. “He needs to be to one side, so people can see what they’re bidding for.”

The large display of items to be auctioned was arranged on the stage. The Double Wedding Ring Quilt was hanging in the centre, looking exquisite.

“I thought about here,” Pattie went on, moving the lectern to one side. “What do you think?”

“Fine,” Ellen said, smiling. “We’ve had a number of bids for items already,” she added, “from people who can’t be here tonight. I

think the auction’s going to raise quite a substantial sum all by itself.”

“Just as well,” Pattie said, giving Ellen a sympathetic smile. “You still haven’t traced the missing money?”

“No. It might be easier if I could get help from Cindy. She’s always on at me to ‘track that money down’ and accuses me of being unprofessional,” Ellen said quietly, “but whenever I ask for some specific bit of information she’s too busy to find it for me.”

“There’s probably just been a simple mistake somewhere along the line. The money will turn up, you’ll see,” Pattie said comfortingly. “It’s not a substantial amount.” She gave Ellen a smile. “I know this fund-raising dinner is going to be an enormous success.

“In case I forget to tell you later – or if you’re too engrossed in your partner to listen,” she teased, “you’ve done a wonderful job here.”

Ellen hoped she wasn’t blushing as she and Pattie turned their attention to guest lists and table plans.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving?” Ellen asked Pattie an hour later. “It’s been really great of you to come and do all this, but didn’t you say you’d got a hair appointment at four?” Pattie checked her watch. “I’m OK for another few minutes. How’s your dress? Did Mom alter it for you?”

“Your dress, you mean!” Ellen smiled.

“No, honey, I only wore it once. It was tight then and it wouldn’t go near me now.

“All these pre-election dinners I keep going to with Steve are having quite an effect on my waistline.

“I bet it looks great on you – just your colour. And it gave me the excuse to buy something new!”

It had been a relief when Pattie offered to lend her a dress.

Ellen hadn’t brought anything formal with her from England, and buying a new dress would have made quite a hole in her savings.

Pattie’s dress was an iridescent greeny-blue. Barbara had taken it in and the dress now fitted perfectly.

She’d splashed out on some new shoes she’d seen in a sale and she couldn’t wait to put on the outfit.

Pattie interrupted her thoughts.

“You know, I find my appointment’s suddenly grown much more urgent.”

She was looking towards the door. Cindy, the campaign manager, had just arrived and was looking around imperiously.

“Arriving just when you’ve finished all the work, as usual,” Pattie murmured to Ellen. “See you later!”

“There you are, Pattie,” Cindy gushed. “So kind of you to help. I guess you’re off home to get all dolled up now, ready for your big night!

“I’m going to have to leave soon myself: lastminute appointment at the beauty salon!”

She turned to Ellen. “Were you hoping to go home to change before we get this show on the road, Ellen, or won’t you have time?

“You’re probably OK as you are. You’re lucky you don’t need to dress up since you’re just helping behind the scenes.”

Pattie halted.

“Of course she’s going home to change. She’s been here all day. I assumed you’d come to take over from her.”

“Well, she’s not a guest, Pattie. She hasn’t bought a ticket.” Cindy gave a little shrug.

“Oh,” Pattie said coolly. “I see. If you don’t mind me asking, did you buy a ticket yourself?”

Cindy looked abashed but persisted.

“There isn’t a free seat left at any of the tables.” Pattie smiled sweetly. “Surely Tyler told you? Tyler and Ellen are with Steve and me on the top table. Ellen is Tyler’s date.”

“Wow,” Tyler said, as Ellen came down the stairs towards him. “You look a million dollars.”

She was smiling radiantly, and he had never seen her looking more glorious. There was something very unamerican about the way she looked, he thought, a delicate quality, as though she was made of porcelain.

“My,” Barbara said, looking up at her. “You’ll be the belle of the ball.”

Barbara herself was looking very elegant, with a corsage of orchids pinned on her dress.

Tyler disappeared into the kitchen and came back with another for Ellen, this one of small white rosebuds.

“I hope this is OK,” he began. “I didn’t know what colour you’d be in, and I know it’s old-fashioned . . .”

“I’ve already told you, Tyler,” his mother interrupted, smiling. “Giving flowers to women is never going to go out of fashion.”

Ellen stood still as Tyler pinned on her corsage, then he looked from her to his mother and back again. “Are we all ready?” “You need to go because Ellen needs to be there early, Tyler. I’ll take my own car,” Barbara said tactfully. “Off you go now.”

Tyler drove to the country club where the dinner was being held.

He went round the car to open Ellen’s door. The last rays of the setting sun caught her hair. She looked stunning.

Once they were inside Cindy pounced on them.

“Tyler! Great to see you! And so kind of you to bring Ellen along, after she’s worked so hard organising this little do. That was a really nice thought.”

Tyler put his arm more firmly around Ellen’s waist. Patronising woman!

He wondered how soon it would be before she found some menial job for Ellen to do, to remind her she was just a worker here.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Ellen, could you go check that the caterers have got everything under control? I want it to be perfect.” “I’ll go,” Tyler said. “But you’re a guest!”

He felt a faint shiver run down Ellen’s back, and realised that Ellen was trembling slightly. His voice came out even more coldly than he intended.

“As, of course, is Ellen. Perhaps you could check yourself, Cindy?”

Cindy flushed and left. They were interrupted by the arrival of some friends of Tyler’s, and before long the room had filled up and waiters were circulating with wine and canapés.

Ellen was keeping a careful eye on the proceedings, Tyler noticed, and she slipped away once or twice to put something right. She was certainly good at her job.

Dinner was served, but Tyler found he was hardly aware of what he was eating.

He longed for the weekend he and Ellen were planning to spend in New York together in just a few weeks’ time, when he could have her all to himself.

At last, coffee was served and the auction was about to start. Ellen went to speak to the auctioneer.

Tyler watched as the first few lots were sold, then excused himself and left the table.

Barbara watched anxiously as the auction progressed.

Cindy was on stage giving a quite unnecessary running commentary on the proceedings, directing Ellen to hold up the items being auctioned as if she was some kind of glamorous assistant at a magic show.

Barbara glanced towards the top table, but Tyler wasn’t there.

Pattie was walking back to the table, smiling and greeting friends and supporters as she went.

Steve was smiling at her as she waved the pair of Broadway tickets she had just secured in the auction.

It was a long time since she’d seen her

Tyler caught his breath. Ellen looked stunning

daughter looking so animated, Barbara realised with relief. There was a dramatic pause from the stage, then Cindy’s voice rang out.

“Now, the moment many of you have been waiting for: it’s time to auction our final item, this beautiful quilt!”

She gestured at the Double Wedding Ring quilt hanging behind her.

“Yes, sirree, made by the good ladies of this town!”

Barbara rolled her eyes at Mary-beth. But Cindy was still talking.

“We’re expecting you folks to dig deep now – these gals don’t want their nimble fingers to have put in all this work for nothing!

“Who’ll start the ball rolling? Let’s see if we can’t aim for a thousand bucks!”

The auctioneer took over with an irritated glance at his gavel, reflecting the look on the faces of most of the quilters in the room.

“Do I have five hundred dollars?” he began. “Five hundred from the lady in pink in the far corner. Six hundred, seven – I warn you there’s a reserve on this item – eight, nine . . .”

The bidding continued briskly, and Barbara looked excitedly round for Tyler.

The dancing would be starting straight after the auction, and she was certain Ellen wouldn’t want to miss the fun.

The bidding was still going on, and there was applause as the quilt passed the two thousand mark.

“Wow, two thousand dollars! I didn’t expect you folks to be so generous!” Cindy was babbling, causing Barbara and Mary-beth to roll their eyes again.

“I’m going up there to get her to shut her big mouth,” Mary-beth hissed urgently at Barbara. “I’ll tell her there’s a crisis in the kitchen or something.”

Mary-beth wove her way between the tables, impeded, Barbara noticed, by the other quilters stopping her to express their annoyance at Cindy’s belittling comments.

Ah, there was Tyler! Barbara watched as he, too, stopped to speak to Mary-beth before heading back to his table.

Barbara noted happily that Tyler’s arm was now draped round Ellen’s shoulders.

The bidding was still going on, and Cindy’s eyebrows continued to rise with every fresh bid.

Mary-beth finally reached the stage and beckoned to Cindy, who reluctantly followed her.

“So, three thousand, seven hundred I’m bid! Any advance on that? Three nine from the gentleman in the front . . . and four two from the lady in pink. It’s against you, sir. Do I have four five? Well done, sir!”

Barbara’s head, along with most of the others in the room, swivelled between the two remaining bidders.

“It’s against you, ma’am – do I have four eight? Maybe four six?”

Janey, the lady in pink who belonged to the quilting group, was shaking her head sadly.

Barbara commiserated; she knew how badly Janey had wanted the quilt. But $4,500 was one heck of a sum.

“Any more bids? No? Then, at four thousand, five hundred dollars it’s going, going – is that a new bidder?”

All heads followed the auctioneer’s gaze to where Mary-beth had just reentered the room, her hand in the air.

“I have five thousand dollars!” He looked questioningly at the previous bidder, but the man shook his head.

Mary-beth! Barbara looked at her friend, amazed. She had plenty of money, of course, but even so, it was an incredibly generous gesture.

Mary-beth was probably the best quilter in the group. If she wanted it so badly, why didn’t she just make another?

Had she bought it for Janey? It would be like her to do something like that.

Barbara’s thoughts were interrupted by a yelp from where Mary-beth was standing.

Cindy had just come back in, and had heard how much the quilt had fetched, Barbara surmised with a small smile.

What was it she’d said? “Let’s see if we can’t aim for a thousand bucks.”

On Monday morning, Ellen was still walking on air.

After the auction was over, there had been very little left for her to do.

The caterers and the auctioneer had everything under control: even Cindy ran out of menial tasks for her.

Tyler occupied her very satisfactorily for the rest of the evening.

True, they were conscious of Barbara and Pattie following them with their eyes every step they took on the dance floor.

Tyler groaned audibly as he took her outside for a breath of air, showing her that he, too, had seen the knowing smiles his mother and sister had exchanged.

Still, Ellen thought, at least they were smiling, which was more than could be said for Cindy.

She’d scowled at Ellen every chance she’d got since Pattie had told her Ellen was Tyler’s date.

Mary-beth, too, seemed to be taking an undue interest in their movements, but then, she was Barbara’s best friend.

Ellen felt herself flushing at the very thought of all the interest she was arousing, but then found herself in Tyler’s arms.

He kissed her while fireflies flickered in the warm September evening, and she didn’t waste any more time worrying about what anyone else thought.

She was aware, however, that the evening had been a roaring success.

When people started to leave, Ellen was showered with thanks and compliments, which she tried to redirect in Cindy’s direction.

Pattie wouldn’t have it. “These people like you, Ellen. You’ve made them feel welcome. Cindy’s good at organising events, I give her that, but she rubs people up the wrong way.

“She makes them feel as if it’s their duty to hand over lots of money. That’s not the way to treat people, but she doesn’t see it.”

“You did a great job, Ellen,” Steve agreed, grinning. “I’d better not kiss you, after what happened last time! I’ll see you next week.

“But now I’ll get Pattie home. She’s, well, we’re not used to these late nights,” he amended. “See you Monday!”

The atmosphere all morning in campaign headquarters was still festive.

Several people who’d been at the dinner dropped by to add donations or pay for items they’d bid for in the auction, and there was a lot more chat than usual.

Ellen was collecting cheques and cash together, ready to take it to the bank. They really had made a phenomenal amount.

Tyler had gone back up to Maine on the Sunday afternoon, ready for his classes on Monday, but he and Ellen had spent the morning walking along Good Wives’ River together, finalising their plans for their weekend in New York.

It was only three weeks away and Ellen was already planning what she was going to wear.

“Are you taking that money to the bank or not? It won’t raise any interest sitting in your hand, lady.”

Why did Cindy always have to be so unpleasant?

“I’m about to, Cindy. I’ll just answer this call,” Ellen amended as the phone began to ring.

Ellen listened, smiling, as the caller congratulated her on the dinner’s success.

“It was really down to Cindy,” Ellen said, looking up at the woman, who put out her hand to take the receiver.

“She’s right here if you’d like to talk to her. Oh, OK, well, it was great to see you and I’m glad you enjoyed it.

“Thank you so much for coming and supporting us. We really appreciate it.”

Ellen ended the call and shrugged at Cindy.

“Sorry, she seemed to be in a bit of a hurry. I’ll get off to the bank now.” But she didn’t. The phone rang twice more with more congratulatory messages.

The third time it happened Cindy grabbed the receiver before Ellen could pick up, then handed it furiously to Ellen.

“They insist on speaking to you,” she said crossly, and stomped off.

The next time the phone rang Ellen was almost at the door, but Cindy made no move to answer it.

“It’ll be for you,” she said sourly. “Just don’t talk for too long, that money needs paying in. On second thoughts, just give it to me. I’ll go to the bank for you.”

Ellen turned her attention back to the call, and it took her a moment to realise that it was not from a well-wisher.

“I’m sorry,” she interrupted the rant on the other end of the line, “could you tell me your name again?”

“This is Peter from the printers. Again. We usually deal with Ms Ward.” The voice was far from friendly.

“I’m very sorry, but Cindy has just popped out for a moment,” Ellen said soothingly. “She’s only gone to the bank, she won’t be long.”

“So she can find the time to go to the bank? Well, perhaps she’d like to get out some cash while she’s there and pay us.

“This is the eighth or ninth time I’ve called, and she keeps promising to pay, but we’re still waiting!”

Ellen promised to sort it out. Cindy had assured her several times that everyone who should have been paid had been paid.

She turned to look at the accounts file on her laptop, but her laptop wasn’t there.

She’d been using it only a few minutes ago, but had been interrupted by the phone.

She spotted it on Cindy’s desk. The wretched woman must have taken it while she was talking.

Promising yet again to look into the payment oversight, Ellen said goodbye to the caller and marched over to retrieve her computer.

She took it back to her own desk and opened the accounts folder, scrolling down to the relevant file. It wasn’t there. What? Had Cindy managed to delete the file? How could she have been so careless?

How was Ellen supposed to check the accounts if she couldn’t get into the file?

She was going to have a few words to say to Cindy Ward when she got back from the bank, Ellen thought, frowning. She was aware that she was breathing fast and shaking slightly.

This was ridiculous – it was just a job and she’d soon be out of here. It wasn’t worth getting het up about.

Ellen took a deep breath and decided to check her e-mails. There might be one from Tyler.

There was, and for a few moments Ellen forgot all about the campaign, Cindy and the cross man from the printers as she wrapped herself in the comforting warmth of Tyler’s words.

It wouldn’t be long till she was with him again.

New Message flashed up on the screen. Ellen clicked to open it, then screwed up her eyes in annoyance.

Edward! What was he doing, e-mailing her? Surely she’d made herself clear?

But no, he was on at her again to get in touch, wanting to “let bygones be bygones”.

Forget he’d asked her to get engaged to help his own election campaign, did he mean?

The door opened and Ellen looked up, wondering whether it could possibly be Cindy back already. Surely she couldn’t be back from the bank that quickly?

But no, it was Pattie, swiftly followed by Steve.

Ellen got up to greet them, smiling, then saw that neither of them was smiling at all. She walked towards them, initially curious, then worried.

“What’s up? The town isn’t plastered with fake photos again, is it?”

Pattie shook her head, looking round. It was nearly lunchtime, and the last of the volunteers had just left the room.

“It’s about the money,” Steve said.

“Which money?”

“The missing money,” Steve said, sounding more impatient than Ellen had ever seen him.

“I am trying to trace it,” Ellen began. “You know I’ve been searching for the last week . . .”

“I’m not talking about the paltry amount that was gone last week,” Steve almost shouted. “That was chicken feed!”

He pressed his fingers together and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, he was obviously making a great effort to sound calm.

“You have looked at the accounts this morning, haven’t you?”

“No, I’ve just tried to open them, but Cindy seems to have deleted the file.”

Steve and Pattie stared at her.

“So you don’t know?” Pattie said.

“Know what?”

“You surely do,” an accusing voice said from across the room.

The three of them looked around to see Cindy striding across the floor, her pinched face a picture of rage.

“I’ve just got back from paying that money in at the bank and there is a lot – I’m talking really big money – of money missing from the account.”

She rounded on Ellen. “So, what have you done with it?”

Ellen looked from one face to another.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re –”

“There are thousands missing from the campaign funds!” Cindy shouted. “And there’s only one person who could have taken it.”

“Hang on, Cindy,” Steve started, holding up his hands. “I’m sure this hasn’t got anything to do with Ellen.”

“You’re being your usual trusting self, Steve. This little missy’s been planning this ever since she took the job.

“Why would some Brit care who wins the election? I’ve been saying for weeks that it was a mistake to hire her.”

“But it was you who insisted on hiring her, Cindy,” Pattie said, puzzled. “And why would Ellen transfer funds from the campaign account to our personal account, huh?”

“What?” Ellen said. “Your account? You mean that this money’s mysteriously appeared in your account? But how could that happen?”

“We’ll soon find out,” Cindy said with real venom in her voice. “No doubt Ellen had her reasons. It’s not an accident that I removed that file from your laptop, you know, Ellen.

“And I should think we’re going to find out who the culprit is pretty darn soon!”

“Look,” Ellen said desperately, “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Can I please see the accounts?

“Surely there’s a rational explanation. Maybe you clicked on the wrong icon, or something.”

Cindy gave a hollow laugh.

“Now you’re really making a fool of yourself. You think you’re so clever with your British ways?

“Well, let me tell you something, lady, you are not going to get away with this.”

She looked up as the door opened again. “Good, they’re here.” Ellen, Pattie and Steve turned round to see who had come in. They were greeted with the sight of two police officers entering, their faces grim.

“The cops? You called the cops?” Steve said, staring at Cindy. “Without even consulting any of us?”

Cindy didn’t bother to reply. One of the police officers nodded at her.

“I’m Lieutenant Jeffries.” He jerked his head at the other man. “Sergeant Slattery. Is that the laptop?” he asked, indicating Ellen’s laptop, which was now on the

desk in front of her.

“That’s the one,” Cindy said, nodding.

“Put in your password, please, ma’am,” Sergeant Slattery said to Ellen.

“This is ridiculous,” Ellen said.

She stared from one policeman to the other, her face a picture of incomprehension.

“What has any of this got to do with me? Or my laptop?”

“Your password,” he repeated.

All eyes were on her keyboard.

“What, I have to reveal my password in front of all these people?” Ellen asked, irritated.

But she reluctantly keyed in her password. She was aware of Cindy’s lip curling as she pressed the final letter.

“That laptop will be a museum piece by the time you get out of whatever penitentiary you’re going to,” Cindy said unpleasantly.

“I don’t think you need to worry about anyone knowing your password.”

No-one else spoke. Steve was gripping Pattie’s hand tightly.

Sergeant Slattery started to tap in numbers, then turned the computer so that no-one else could see it and continued to watch the screen.

The lieutenant turned his attention back to Ellen.

“Could you confirm your full name, please, ma’am?”

“Ellen Elizabeth Follett,” Ellen replied in a hollow voice.

“And your date of birth?” “I cannot see what this has got to do with anything,” Ellen spluttered, but she told them anyway.

The sergeant suddenly closed her laptop and nodded at his superior.

“The money was definitely transferred from this computer,” he said with an air of finality.

“It can’t have been,” Ellen started to say, but her voice tailed off.

How often had Cindy borrowed her laptop? And hadn’t Tyler always mistrusted Cindy’s abrupt change of political allegiance? Hadn’t she been seen talking to her ex-boss, Steve’s opponent, at the Independence Day baseball game?

There had been other attempts to sabotage Steve’s campaign. What about the faked posters of Steve kissing Ellen in front of a sleazy motel?

Ellen looked around at the people watching her. She had paused for too long.

Cindy was shrugging dismissively, as if Ellen had just confessed.

Steve suddenly stepped forward.

“Look, anyone could have transferred the money using this laptop. We’ve had lots of computer problems during the campaign, and there are usually at least a dozen volunteers working here. Are you going to at least fingerprint people, check who else has used the laptop?”

The sergeant who’d been examining the laptop shrugged.

“We wouldn’t get a decent print off this keyboard. One lot of prints will contaminate the others. Anyhow, this is normally a crowded room. No-one’s going to risk someone seeing them transferring that kind of dough. Whoever did this will have done it nice and private, at home.

“So, the question is, who takes it home at night?” He stared into Ellen’s face, his eyes narrowed.

Ellen felt the colour drain from her face. This could not be happening. It was like a scene out of an American TV show.

Lieutenant Jeffries gave a curt nod and Sergeant Slattery reached for his handcuffs.

“What d’you think you’re doing? This is totally out of order,” Steve spluttered.

The lieutenant turned his attention to him.

“Who do you think did it?”

It was a rhetorical question. The officer in charge nodded.

“Ellen Elizabeth Follett, you’re under arrest.”

To be continued.