And there she found the business courses she needed to run Crewel World, Inc. In Payroll was a list of employees, their pay scales, their hours (none entered since Margot died, of course, but Betsy knew where the time sheets were kept, so that was all right). Also Social Security paid, and withholding for state and federal income tax, for herself and for each employee. (“That’s my first business decision: as CEO, do I get a raise?” she muttered.) The inventory file had a list done in January. And another done a year ago January. And another, and another, going back five years. Taxes, paid and due, the special account it was paid into. A list of suppliers and what was ordered, when it was due, the amounts owed, the amounts paid.

She printed out much, read more. Hours later, heavy-eyed, she could no longer make sense of anything. She shut down the computer and went to bed. She could do this, she was going to stay in business, paying her workers and herself. But she dreamed for the remaining four hours of the night of audits and penalties and bankruptcy.

Chapter 14

14

Late the next morning, she left the shop in Godwin’s hands and went to the First State Bank of Excelsior. She found a seat in the little waiting area, feeling important. She was wearing a light gray skirt, white blouse, and jacket-cut gray sweater; she carried an attaché case she’d found in Margot’s closet, now weighty with printouts.

The magic word, she had learned, was line of credit. Margot had had one, a nice big one. When someone has considerable assets, a bank can issue a line of credit, which is sort of like getting a preapproved series of loans. Betsy was sole heir to two and a half million dollars; surely that was an asset worthy of a considerable line of credit, even if the asset hadn’t paid its taxes yet. She had called earlier and gotten a very prompt appointment with the vicepresident—okay, a vice-president-of the First Bank of Excelsior.

When her name was called, she rose with the air of someone who is about to do a banker a big favor and allowed herself to be shown into a small but nicely decorated office.

And left it half an hour later greatly humbled. The vice-president had read with interest the notes Betsy had written about Margot’s estate—but then pointed out that since Margot had banked with First State, the bank was even more cognizant of Margot’s financial status than Betsy was.

However.

Bankers were, according to this one, reluctant to make a loan based on an estate that was in the process of being settled. “There is occasionally a slip between the cup and the lip,” quoted the vice-president, not quite accurately.