By Sheila Connolly
On the Society for the upkeep of Pennsylvania Antiques, fundraiser Eleanor "Nell" Pratt solicits donations-and occasionally solves crimes. while a set of George Washington's letters is misplaced at the comparable day that an archivist is located useless, it sort of feels unusual that the Society president is not pushing for an research. Nell is going digging herself, and shortly uncovers an extended, wealthy background of crime.
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Additional info for Fundraising the Dead (A Museum Mystery)
Heady stuff. And it didn’t hurt, either, that Charles and I had been seeing each other socially since shortly after his arrival. It was time to get down to business and start working the crowd. As I came down the stairs, careful not to trip in the stiletto heels I wasn’t used to wearing, I again scanned the gathering below me. In a corner a delightful if superannuated city council member, an ex officio board member, had snagged our youngest, blondest female employee and was spinning tales while leaning over to enjoy her cleavage.
At first I thought, well, the files were incomplete, or some files had been archived. And then I began to wonder if I was getting sloppy, misplacing things, forgetting things . ” He had picked up a piece of scrap paper from his desk, and he was folding and unfolding it, making and unmaking a fan. He wouldn’t look at me, keeping his eyes on his hands. “Alfred,” I said firmly, “you are the most organized person I know, and the most conscientious. You’re worried about something. ” Finally he looked up at me, with something like fear in his gaze.
Alfred, I have the feeling that there’s something you want to talk about. ” I said, my tone coaxing. He nodded. “I just don’t know what to do. At first I thought, well, the files were incomplete, or some files had been archived. And then I began to wonder if I was getting sloppy, misplacing things, forgetting things . ” He had picked up a piece of scrap paper from his desk, and he was folding and unfolding it, making and unmaking a fan. He wouldn’t look at me, keeping his eyes on his hands. “Alfred,” I said firmly, “you are the most organized person I know, and the most conscientious.