Wanda threw back the covers and reset her alarm for seven o’clock. She had to be at the courthouse, where the city offices were, bright and early tomorrow to begin the process of petition. Then she hitched her breath. What to wear?
Her normal “uniform” of jeans or casual slacks with a knit blouse wouldn’t do. She flicked through the hangers in her closet and chose her best spring outfit, the one she planned to wear on Easter Sunday. A linen dove gray skirt and jacket with a rose silk shell blouse. She’d wear her mother’s pink pearl necklace with matching earrings. The combination accented the silver streaks in her dark brown hair that would be wrapped into a stately bun instead of her usual ponytail or French braid. Unlike a few women she knew, Wanda was proud of every gray strand. She had earned them, they commanded respect, and they gave her locks a softened, frosted appearance.
Pleased with her decisions, Wanda crawled under the covers, careful not to disturb her furry foot warmer who softly snored on the turned-back comforter at the foot of the bed.
A happy cardinal chirping for a mate woke Wanda ten minutes before the alarm tune on her cell phone sounded. She grunted and crawled out of bed. Sophie perked up, hopped off, and padded down the hall to the kitchen and her bowl.
“Yes, yes. I’m coming.” Wanda pulled on her robe, shoved her cell phone in the pocket, and followed the wagging tail like an obedient servant. As the coffee perked, she let Sophie outside to do her thing. She poured the kibbles in the dog’s bowl before dumping dry cereal into hers. Wanda examined the breakfast box, recalling the morning a few months ago when Sophie lapped up her food with extra vigor. Wanda had experienced a toss-and-turn night and felt extra drowsy that morning. It wasn’t until she took her first spoonful that she realized her bowl contained the kibbles and Sophie’s the Honey Nut Cheerios. She would never make that blunder again.
Almost an hour later, she climbed the steps and entered the large granite building that commanded the central position in their town and even throughout the county. Thankfully, at this early hour, there had been plenty of open parking spaces in the courthouse square. She could have walked the distance, but the humidity had risen and she hadn’t wanted to perspire. As it was, even the short walk from her car beaded her forehead. The air conditioning that blasted her skin once she entered felt downright invigorating.
Her heel clicks echoed on the marbled tiles of the hallway leading to the Mayor’s office. She tapped on the door, and his secretary, Lucia, beckoned her to come in.
“Good morning, Lucia. I wanted to know the procedure for something.” She motioned to the chair catty-corner to the mahogany computer desk and received a nod.
“Thank you.” She scooted the chair closer and retrieved her sign-up sheet from her satchel. “I think we all expected the Ferguson estate to be settled by now, but it seems the heirs are still locked in a battle. And as I walked my dog, Sophie, by it last evening, I stopped to speak with Hazel Peters. She was watering her roses. You know how often she has won prizes for them? Of course, you do. You are one of the judges of the garden club’s lawn of the year awards every year.”
“Hmm. Yes.” Lucia shifted in her secretary chair. “You said something about a procedure?”
“Oh, of course. For organizing a neighborhood watch. I haven’t been inside the Ferguson home since I was in lower school. Anita Ferguson, God rest her soul, used to have a formal tea for the eighth grade girls every May. But that was before your time.”
“Yes, I suppose it was. Mrs. Warner . . .”
“Oh, call me Wanda, please. Anyway, I recall all these wonderful antiques, paintings, silver service sets, candelabras . . . you know. If they are still inside, well, and if word got around outside of this community that they were ripe for the pickings . . .”
“I see your point.” The phone buzzed. “Excuse me.” Lucia cradled the headset next to her shoulder. “Yes, sir?”
Wanda silently harrumphed. The poor girl would get a crick. Surely, she should have a Bluetooth. This was two decades into the twenty-first century, not the 1980’s. Another issue to bring to the city council’s attention, or at least the mayor’s.
“Yes, sir.” She hung up. “Mayor Porter says to come into his office. He overheard what you said and will speak with you concerning it.”
“Oh, okay.” Then she realized the door to his office had been partially open.
“This way.” Lucia flashed her professional smile. Wanda wondered if she practiced it in the mirror.
The ladies rose from their chairs in unison. Wanda rubbed her palm down her skirt to make sure it was warm and dry when she shook the mayor’s hand then stepped into his office. Even in a small town, the domain of the mayor’s inner quarters, so to speak, oozed the demand for respect.
She and her parents had moved to the town in 1966 when she was eight. In all that time residing in Scrub Oak, she’d never set foot in here before. The police station several times, but that was a different matter entirely.
Her heels sunk into the lush maroon carpet, making her wobble for a second. Good going, Miss Grace. The office was decorated in dark mahogany furnishings, including a large executive desk, a credenza, and a row of bookshelves. Forrest green leather chairs perched in front of the desk and a green, burgundy, and tan patterned sofa sat against the other wall underneath a painting of the north Texas prairies and hills. A buckskin-colored winged chair angled next to it. Flanking the desk, an American flag and Texas state flag hung on brass standing poles like soldiers at attention. Framed awards and the current governor’s picture formed a decoupage behind the desk.
Mayor Porter rose and extended his hand. “Mrs. Warner, please have a seat.”
She firmed her grip in the handshake to show her strength and confidence, and then chose the chair on the right.
He returned to his executive perch and leaned back, fingers tented under his chin. “Did I hear correctly? You are concerned about the valuables in the Ferguson House?”
“Yes. And I thought it might behoove the residents of this fine community to form a neighborhood watch. Not just out of neighborly concern . . .” Had she said neighbor too much? “. . . but for our protection as well. I mean, just because we’ve not had any major crime in Scrub Oak since the 1950’s when those train robbers jumped the tracks. And of course, there was the time the Woodlake Resort’s safe was robbed. But that was an inside job, wasn’t it?” She stopped to take a breath.
He gave her a fatherly, authoritative grin.
“Oh, I apologize. I sound like an old ninny rattling on so much. I don’t know why I am so nervous. I’ve never been in here before.” She pressed her hand to her pearls and gazed around the room. He must think her a nutcase.
“Mrs. Warner.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on the desk blotter. “There is some merit in your idea. Unlike the one you had about Mr. Robert’s trash can digging.”
“Well, yes, that was an unfortunate misjudgment, I agree. But . . .”
“Or the flashlights shining on the resort that ended up being reflections of a windchime?”
Wanda raised her finger. “In all fairness, it was robbed three weeks earlier, as I said.”
“True, but we both acknowledge it was an inside job. The young man who was convicted knew the layout quite well, and it was a full moon so no further illumination was necessary.”
She bowed her head in agreement.
He cleared his throat. “However, this time your observations are worth considering. In fact, I have contacted the estate attorney several times about hiring a security guard but the heirs are unable to agree on the expense. The house does have a state of the art alarm system though. It was installed less than a year ago.”
Wanda’s ears perked. “After the Woodway Resort incident?”
“Uh, hmm. Yes.” He rose from his chair. “Let me look into this matter and discuss it with Chief Brooks. Perhaps it is time we had a neighborhood watch system in this town. Better to be pro-active.”
Wanda smiled and shook his extended han
d. “Thank you.”
He led her to the outer office. “I am sure there are established protocols. I promise you, I will investigate it before the council meets Monday evening. I will have Lucia call you and set up an appointment time that morning if we need to discuss this further.”
Wanda thanked him again. She felt proud as she strutted down the hallway back out into the Texas sunshine. Then, she halted on the courthouse steps as she reached in her purse for her sunglasses. He had been awfully accommodating.
She smacked her forehead. Of course. He was up for re-election in three weeks. And Chief Brooks would want to be reappointed the next term.
Wanda huffed. She needed a cinnamon roll. Heck with her tummy flab.
She strutted the three blocks to the Grocery Mart, her steaming angst competing with the Texas sun now beating on her back. Once inside she made a beeline to the Coffee Bean, run by her friend Priscilla Tucker. She greeted Wanda with a wave, then frowned.
“What’s wrong?”
Wanda ordered and then told her.
“Well, he didn’t say it was a bad idea.” Priscilla Tucker set the gooey treat in front of Wanda along with a vanilla latte. “And I agree. In fact, it is long overdue. Ever since Texas Monthly featured Woodway Lake as the best little-known getaway in the state last summer, we’ve had an increase in visitors. Who knows where they come from or who they are? Count me in.”
“Into what?” A different voice echoed from behind them.
Wanda turned and saw Evelyn standing there.
“Hi, Wanda.” She smiled and then addressed Priscilla. “I’ll have a decaf mocha to go. I have a hair appointment in fifteen minutes.”
“Plenty of time to chat. Want to sit?” Wanda grabbed her second breakfast and headed to one of the pink wrought iron table sets for two with brown and pink striped chair covers.
Evelyn joined her and eyed her cinnamon roll.
“Don’t tell Betty Sue.”
Priscilla set Evelyn’s hot drink down, chuckled, and walked back to the register.
Evelyn took a sip. “Why would I? She’s not your mother. Neither am I.”
“I know, but since losing all that weight, she keeps hinting that I could get in better shape.”
Her neighbor scoffed. “Who couldn’t? So, I confess. I really came in because I saw you in your Easter best. What’s up?”
“A meeting with the mayor.”
“Oh, is that so?” One eyebrow arched.
Wanda gave her the shortened version of the events leading up to and including this morning’s conversation. And her realization of its opportune timing.
“When my husband was alive, we joined a neighborhood watch in our Houston suburb. It’s a national organization and usually a spokesman comes to speak and helps the watch get going. Ours was a Houston police officer. You don’t need the mayor’s permission. He should know that.”
“Really?”
She swallowed the rest of her mocha. “I guess it was good of you to inform him of your interest, but frankly, if you want to start one, you can. All you have to do is hold a meeting. It would be nice to coordinate it with the police, though. Out of courtesy.”
“Of course. I intend to do just that.” Especially since Evelyn mentioned it. Getting on the wrong side of Chief Brooks would not be a great idea. The last thing Wanda wanted to do was soil Todd’s reputation due to her inconsiderate behavior.
Evelyn rose and looked at the clock in the shape of a coffee pot. “Gotta run. Keep me posted.”
Wanda turned to Priscilla who had been busy wiping the tables and most likely listening. “Well, could we have the meeting here?”
A huge grin filled her face. “Absolutely. And I will provide free drinks.”
Wanda wiped off her hands and wadded up her napkin. Then she extended her right hand in a shake. “Deal. Tomorrow morning at ten?”
“Will that be enough time to get the word out?”
Wanda cocked her head. “Priscilla. This is Scrub Oak. Everyone will know by sunset.”
“True.”
“Know what?” Hazel wandered in with a vase of pink tea roses to decorate the counter.
Wanda and Priscilla laughed.
Chapter Five
Hazel and Wanda walked down the block to the library to use the computers so they could design fliers. It was quicker than driving back to Wanda’s house and there was no parking limit around the courthouse.
Barbara Mills had been the town’s librarian as long as Wanda knew. Now an octogenarian, the lady still had a sharp mind and probably had read every book in the place. At least she knew enough about each one to recommend them.
“I will be happy to help. Here is the Wi-Fi password. And I tell you what. The library will donate up to fifty copies of the fliers. You just leave a small stack here and I will distribute them as people check out.”
“Great. Thank you.” Wanda and Hazel sat down and spent the next hour reading about neighborhood watches and signing up for the national newsletter as well as conducting an online chat with one of the North Texas organizers. They spent another half hour designing the flier until they were both satisfied it would attract attention and give enough, but not too much, information.
“I am going to text Betty Sue to bring tape and help us post them.” Wanda patted Hazel’s arm. “She’s a retired schoolteacher, you know. They always have supplies like that lying around.”
Ten minutes later, Betty Sue waltzed in with three dispensers and a smile. Her cheeks were as rosy as Hazel’s bushes. “I jogged all the way.”
“Shhhh.” A man peered over the top of his Oakmont County Weekly Gazette.
The women grimaced a silent apology and tiptoed to the checkout counter to give Barbara the original. Within a few minutes she returned with four stacks. One for each lady and one for the library. She whispered, more like mimed ‘good luck’ with her lips and wiggled her fingers in goodbye.
Wanda organized the distribution. “I’ll take Main Street. Hazel, why don’t you take the square including the Medical Center and the fire and police stations? Oh, and don’t forget Schiller and Smith attorneys across the way. Betty Sue, can you take these to the schools, since you know all the teachers, and also post one or two at the grocer’s?”
“Sure, but I think Hazel should take Main. You need to take the Square, and probably make the police station your first stop. Todd is your nephew.”
“You’re right. I hope the mayor has chatted with Chief Brooks about it by now. It’ll make my task a lot smoother.” Wanda widened her eyes and crossed her fingers in a hopeful gesture then headed east.
She stopped at the steps to the police station, sucked in a breath of courage, and entered. Regan Weber, the new cadet, greeted her by name. Todd, having likely heard, dashed around the corner. “Aunt Wanda what are you doing here?”
She lifted her chin. “I am a citizen of this town. I have the right to come visit the local constabulary, don’t I?”
He sputtered.
Regan stifled a giggle. Wanda wasn’t sure it was due to her word usage to describe the police station or the flush on Todd’s cheeks.
She wiped away the comment as if she swatted a pesky fly. “I’m kidding. Actually, I wanted to let y’all know about this.” She peeled a flier off the stack and handed it to him. “We have already registered with the national office and have talked with a coordinator who is willing to drive down from Fort Worth tomorrow to meet with us.” She couldn’t help the proud tone in her voice. Wanda had to admit this project made her feel useful.
Todd leaned against the desk. He rubbed his head. “Wow. You’ve been busy. I think the chief will want to see this.”
“Exactly why I came. I wanted him to know that we are distributing these around town. And of course, all of you are invited to attend. That goes without saying.” She flashed a sweet smile to Regan.
“Wait here.” He pumped his hand indicating she should sit down in one of the plastic, designed-to-fit-nobody chairs.
A few minutes later, Chief Brooks emerged from his office, followed by a slightly nervous-looking Todd. He extended his hand. Wanda rose and took it in a similar confident grip as she had with the mayor.
“I just got off the phone with Mayor Porter. He told me you had been to see him and discussed this matter. He seems to think it is a good idea.”
“Does that mean you don’t?”
The sound of Regan’s fingers clicking on the keyboard halted. Todd cast his gaze to the acoustic ceiling tiles.
“Let’s have a chat in my office.” Chief Brooks waved his hand toward the door with his name printed on it. “Officer Martin, you may as well attend this meeting as well.”
“Yes, sir.” Todd gave his aunt a narrowed-eye glance and then followed behind her.
What was the big deal? Had she stepped on toes?
After she had been seated, the chief sat in his chair. It released a loud squeak as if in protest. Todd stood at semi-attention off to the left and, by his expression, chose to ignore the sound. Wanda did as well, almost. She coughed briefly into her fist to keep from laughing.
“Mrs. Warner, do you think our force is not doing an adequate job of protecting this community?” Chief Brooks set his jaw.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. So, it had become personal? What an inflated male ego he demonstrated.
Wanda thought of her response long and hard. If she said yes, it would not fare well for her nephew. If she said no, then her cause had no teeth. Now she knew how Jesus felt before the Pharisees. But he had the upper hand knowing their hearts. She wasn’t sure how to read Chief Brooks at the moment.
That’s it. Go to the source. Remain neutral.
She reached into her purse for the information she had printed from the library computer and read it out loud. “The national organization’s flier states the purpose of a neighborhood watch is to assist the police in the protection of personal property and to build a greater sense of community among neighbors. It raises respect for the police and is a positive influence on the youth.” She held it out for him to take. “They suggest a town our size should have at least three teams of three to four each. I believe one should cover the homes south of Main, one cover north of Main as far as East and West Elm, and then one to include the houses up to Woodway Drive. Lakeview Apartments may want to form their own since there are 45 units.”
Word Has It (Wordplay Mysteries Book 1) Page 3