Page 100 of Booked for Murder

I’d also double his required bribes to visit me and my cat during my three perfect weeks of life.

It took me all of ten minutes to figure out most of the attendees viewed the obviously disabled with disdain, skirting me and my wheelchair far more than necessary. Several times, I caught someone complaining about my presence, and I almost snorted my disdain when one of the security guards pointed at my casted foot.

I’d been dealing with the scorn long enough to understand reacting wouldn’t do anything to help. Instead, I selected the summer wooden bookmark from my new collection, dug out a psychological research book I’d picked to help me get a better understanding of why humans did terrible things to each other, and spent more of my time watching the crowd than reading.

It took me all of five minutes to figure out Senator Maybelle’s primary demographic was old, rich, and white. The pictures I’d seen of her offered the illusion of youth, although she was in her early fifties and defined rich. The Hamptons had more money than they knew what to do with, primarily because everyone in the family expanded their empires independently of each other, pooling their resources together to make everyone stronger. Bradley’s businesses belonged fully to him, although his parents had helped him get started. His parents’ business affairs remained thoroughly tangled with each other, although I remembered a clear division existed between their various corporations; they offered advice to each other but little else.

I needed to rectify my ignorance on their current state of affairs, especially if the haphazard engagement papers held.

I was not at all equipped, ready, or able to inherit a business. Being a librarian challenged me enough. Being a librarian expected to solve a series of gruesome murders might do me in. Assuming I survived through that, I might be able to help Bradley handle his paperwork.

Paperwork liked me, and I liked paperwork. Maybe I could become a librarian who did some secretarial duties. Could a librarian pick up the skills a secretary needed?

What, precisely, did a corporate secretary even do?

I’d been too busy paying attention to who might try to hurt Bradley to care about the various tasks his secretaries managed for him.

When had life become so damned complicated?

My book, while insightful about human nature in some ways, offered no answers regarding my current dilemma. I flipped to the index, checked for any relevant sections regarding obsession with other people, and turned to the correct page.

Somewhere along the way, I had developed a severe obsession with the heir of the Bradley family fortune, and with luck, the book could offer some advice on how to deal with my problem.

“Are you all right, ma’am?” a woman asked, drawing my attention away from my book.

While I’d been warned Senator Maybelle would target me due to my temporary disability, I hadn’t expected her to actually show up or talk to me. I placed my bookmark between the pages and closed the book, careful to avoid damaging anything. What was I supposed to say to a senator, especially one who wanted to see me sent to the military and killed on the front lines?

Damn it, why had I agreed to go along with the crazy scheme? “I’m as fine as can be, Senator Maybelle. I hope you’re having a good day.”

What the hell was I supposed to say or do? Nobody had briefed me on what to say to the woman in the event she wanted to speak to me. Since cursing at my misfortune wouldn’t do any good, I went with the only thing I could do.

I smiled until it hurt and pretended there was nothing more I wanted in life than to meet a senator with presidential aspirations and a dislike for the rest of humanity.

The senator held out a hand and regarded the sky with a sigh. I took that as my cue to get my book in my purse and zipper it up, which would make it as waterproof as possible, as I typically went the pleather route due to its general indestructibility and its lack of care if it were to become wet in New York’s finicky weather. “It wasn’t supposed to rain today, but it’ll probably pour halfway through the rally. At least it’s warm, so a little rain won’t hurt much. This is too important to reschedule due to a little bit of rain.”

“A little rain hasn’t hurt anyone before,” I replied, maintaining my smile. “It’s only when it’s a lot of rain that we should worry. I’ve had my fill of hurricanes for a while.” The last one to blow through had done a ridiculous amount of flood damage, although to my disappointment, I hadn’t spotted any stray sharks swimming down the streets.

“Haven’t we all? They’re saying it’s going to be a bad season this year. I’m hoping we can push through some reforms to our disaster management, as we need better accountability for the response teams, tighter control of spending, and better use of contributions supporting disaster relief. It would also influence the operation of charities to prevent skimming from non-profit funds.”

I would need to ask Bradley’s mother to look into any legislation that might cover such changes, as I could think of many ways such reforms could result in a complete loss of Federal disaster management, leaving local governments to handle events on their own.

Reform could be good, but it’d been a long damned time since I’d seen reform serve the people more than the politicians.

“Accountability is never a bad thing,” I replied, as anything else I said would be a lie, reveal more than I wished about my personal feelings, or otherwise embarrass me.

“It’s not, and charities have been left to do whatever they want however they want without any form of accountability. This hurts everyone, as well-intentioned citizens end up giving their money to sharks who don’t spend it where they should. Solid reforms will change that for the better.”

“How will the charities be held accountable?”

“There will be a set of guidelines provided by the government that will detail how charities can operate, who the benefactors may be, how much of the funds can be used to pay staff and overhead, and so on. Charities will also be required to fairly pay their permanent staff, and there will be guidelines about how they can use volunteer labor. Many charities take advantage of well-intentioned volunteers, so the reform will tackle making certain all volunteers are handled in an acceptable fashion.”

It only took a few moments of thought to come up with at least ten reasons why her proposal would be a disaster in the making and supported my fear her actions would dismantle most charities, who relied on volunteers to operate many of them.

The profitable charities would adapt.

Places like soup kitchens and shelters would fail, and the lower classes would suffer.

As I’d inevitably lose my temper if we talked about her charity reform much longer, I pointed in the direction of the vendor stands. “Where did you get the idea for the craft sale? Some of the artisans are incredibly talented. I made several purchases on my way here.”