Where There’s a Will

by Beth Pattillo

  “Promise?”

  “As long as you stay put,” Kate said, giving Ellen a knowing look for emphasis. “If you hear from Oliver again, hold your ground. Better yet, hang up on him. Or shut the door in his face.”

  “Kate, you have to take him seriously. We’re just learning how desperate he really is.”

  “I promise to be careful. Hopefully Oliver is home recovering from last week’s board of directors meeting.”

  Ellen wrapped four of the paintings in brown wrapping paper and handed Kate one of the blown-up photographs of Oliver’s painting. Kate would take photos of all the paintings when she got home. Then she helped Kate carry them out to her car.

  “Give me a call tomorrow, okay?” Ellen said.

  Kate nodded. “With any luck, I’ll have some better news for you.”

  As Kate drove off, she could see Ellen standing on the sidewalk waving good-bye. Kate felt a twinge of sadness, knowing that whatever happened with the will, Ellen would still have a number of issues left to resolve. She would need more time to mourn the loss of her husband, but at least she had mended fences with her cousin Anne. And they seemed to have most of the information they needed to resolve the ownership of High Hoot Ridge once and for all. Maybe things were looking up for Ellen after all.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The next morning, Kate found it difficult to juggle her handbag, a fudge pie, and the photos she’d made of all the paintings, but she finally managed to wrangle all three items plus herself to Joshua Parsons’ front door. Fortunately, he opened the door before Kate was forced to find a way to knock.

  “Hello there.” Old Man Parsons looked her over and then seemed to relax when he spotted the pie. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

  Kate wasn’t quite sure whether he meant he was anticipating her visit or the pie she brought with her. Probably the latter, she decided with a smile.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Kate said. “It’s always nice to be the cause of anticipation rather than dread.”

  Parsons laughed in his thin, reedy voice and waved her inside. “Here. Let me take that.”

  Kate thought he was reaching for the packet of photos, but he relieved her of the pie instead. Kate bit her lip to keep from chuckling. She followed him into the house and set her handbag on a nearby chair. Parsons had already disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Didn’t happen to bring any coffee, did you?” he called.

  Kate followed his voice and found him standing at the counter, cutting into the pie.

  “Of course.” Kate set the thermos she’d retrieved from her handbag on the counter.

  “This is wonderful. My wife, Alma, used to make the best fudge pie in Copper Mill, and it tasted best with a hot cup of coffee.”

  “You may find mine a poor substitute,” Kate warned him.

  He shook his head. “Kate, when you’re an old man like me, living all alone, you learn to enjoy your blessings, not compare them.”

  Kate nodded at his words of wisdom. “Well said, Mr. Parsons.”

  He picked up a plate that held an enormous slice of pie and offered it to her. “Will you join me?”

  Kate shook her head. “I’d better not. But I’ll sit with you while you eat.” Kate poured him a cup of coffee—black, of course—and set it next to his plate.

  “So, what brings you back to see an old man like me? Besides the fact that you promised me another pie.”

  Kate wondered if her agenda was written on her face. “I thought I’d pick your brain again, if you didn’t mind.”

  “You’re welcome to what’s left of it, young lady.”

  “Well, you’re the only person I know of who remembers the town of Harrington and the ironworks. I thought you might be able to help me.”

  “I’m glad to do what I can.”

  “If you’d take a look at photos of some paintings,” she said, “I’d be grateful. They form a puzzle of sorts, but I can’t seem to solve it.”

  “Now I’m intrigued,” he said between bites of pie.

  Five minutes later, he had finished his pie and Kate had lined up the photos on Old Man Parsons’ coffee table in the living room. They sat side by side on his well-worn sofa.

  “These are by Lela Harrington, that woman in the newspaper article I showed you last time you were here,” Joshua said the moment he saw them.

  “Yes. She painted them.”

  Joshua rubbed his chin and studied each picture one by one while Kate held her breath. If only he could see in the paintings whatever she and Ellen were missing.

  Finally, after several minutes, he shook his head. “They’re nice enough, but I don’t see any hidden messages in them.”

  “Are they accurate, as far as you remember? In terms of the buildings and settings, I mean. Is there anything off kilter or that doesn’t seem right?” Kate asked, hoping against hope.

  Again, Joshua shook his head. “I expect they’re as accurate, as anything could be in that kind of thing.” He frowned. “Looks like a kindergartner painted them. Never did understand this modern stuff.”

  Kate decided there was no need to point out that the American Primitive style had long since passed its prime, and the art world had moved on.

  “Well, I appreciate your taking time to look at them. It was worth a try.”

  “If there’s a puzzle there, well, I certainly don’t—” He stopped and then crossed his arms over his bony chest, still staring at the paintings. “Wait a minute.” He leaned forward.

  Kate watched as Joshua began to move them around, pulling one from the end to the middle and switching two others. When he was done, he leaned back and surveyed all of them once more.

  “What is it?” Kate asked, moving to stand beside him. She still couldn’t see whatever it was that he evidently saw.

  “Well, at first I thought they were just different scenes from Harrington. But I couldn’t figure out why she’d paint High Hoot Ridge when everything else was from a later time period.”

  “And?” Kate’s heart raced.

  “I think I’ve figured out your mystery,” Joshua said with a sly grin. “If I tell you the answer, will you come back soon with another pie?”

  Kate had to laugh. “Mr. Parsons, if you’ve solved this puzzle, I’ll make you any pie of your choice, with a cherry on top.”

  Her answer must have satisfied him, because right then and there in Old Man Parsons’ living room, Kate discovered the secret of the paintings and the location of the missing will.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kate pulled her car into the garage and let out a sigh of relief. Finally the mystery was solved. Yet she also knew that her role in the matter was far from over. Finding the will would set a whole new series of problems into motion. Oliver would be furious, and Kate worried about what he might do. They needed a way to minimize any damage he might try to cause.

  She was worried about Carol too, who would always be at risk from Oliver’s wrath. Then there was Ellen’s dream of restoring Harrington. Was there any hope of making it come true? Kate thought so, but she’d have to talk to Paul first. And finally, but least pressing, was the fact that she was way behind on her class project. Surely her professor would cut her some slack, she thought to herself with a chuckle.

  The first thing she had to do, though, was to call Ellen and tell her the good news.

  “I’ve been sitting by the phone all morning,” Ellen said. “What did you find out?”

  “I know where the will is,” Kate said, and Ellen shrieked. Kate had to pull the phone away from her ear.

  “I can’t believe it. Mr. Parsons solved the mystery?”

  “He sure did,” Kate said. “He remembers a great deal about Harrington, so he was able to put two and two together.”

  “How? What did we miss?”

  “Well, the one thing we forgot to consider was the chronological order of the paintings. The sequence in which the places featured in the paintings were developed.”

 
Kate could hear Ellen groan.

  “Of course,” Ellen said. “It’s so simple. I should have seen that.”

  “I didn’t catch it either.”

  “But you didn’t grow up on my grandmother’s stories of the founding of the town. I sat next to her for hours, listening to her tell me about it.”

  “But how do you know where the will is? There’s still no X to mark the spot.”

  “I’ll show you tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Ellen exhaled loudly. “I can’t wait that long.”

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to. I’ve been doing some thinking, and it seems to me that we have more problems than simply finding the will.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as how to handle Oliver, and whether you can reconcile with Carol. And the future of your past, so to speak.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll pick you up in the morning at ten o’clock. Dress comfortably.”

  “Kate! You can’t do this to me.”

  “You’re going to have to trust me on this one,” Kate advised her. “I promise it will be worth it.”

  Ellen sighed. “All right. But only because I’d never have found the will without you.”

  “I hope that by the time I’m through, you’ll have a lot more than just a piece of paper,” Kate said. “Now, I’ve got to run, or I’ll never be ready by tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be waiting outside. Don’t be afraid to come early,” Ellen said with a sigh, but she also sounded happier than Kate had ever heard her.

  “Tomorrow. Get a good night’s sleep tonight, okay?”

  “Sleep? Hah.”

  Kate wondered whether she’d be able to sleep herself, but not because of anxiety. No, any lack of shut-eye would be because she had a great deal of work to do before then to put her plan in motion. And the first step was to talk with Paul. She was going to need his help.

  FORTUNATELY FOR KATE, Paul didn’t have a lunch appointment that day, so he was more than happy to come home for a bowl of soup and a grilled-cheese sandwich. She waited until they’d eaten to broach the subject.

  “We’ve solved Ellen’s mystery, thanks to Joshua Parsons.”

  Paul wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his chair at the kitchen table. “That’s good news. But you don’t look as relieved as I would have thought.”

  “Well, finding the will is going to present a whole new set of problems. Ones I need your help resolving.”

  “You know I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

  “Do you remember when I told you about Ellen’s dream of bringing Harrington back to life?”

  Paul nodded. “Sure.”

  “I want to do more than just solve the mystery. I want to help her achieve her dream.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order, Kate.”

  “Hear me out first. Once Ellen has the will in her possession, she’ll have as much claim to that property as Oliver Coats. So she can stop the sale to the paper company.”

  “That’s what you’ve been hoping for all along, right?”

  “Yes, but it’s not enough. She needs leverage to get Oliver to agree to sell the land—at least most of it—to the state as a wildlife preserve. She and Carol will keep the old town and the ironworks.”

  “So what kind of leverage does she need?”

  “Nothing unsavory. Just something to motivate him.” She briefly explained what Livvy had uncovered about Oliver’s finances. “I was hoping you might have some ideas about how to get him to agree to Ellen’s plans.”

  “Do you know for sure whether he’s committed fraud?”

  “No. But I suppose I could go to the sheriff with what I know. He’d at least look into it.” She paused. “But if I do that, Oliver will fight Ellen tooth and nail.”

  “He sounds like a man who always does what’s in his own best interests,” Paul said. “Could you convince him that Ellen’s plan would serve him better?”

  “Maybe.” Kate stared out the window as she considered Paul’s question. “If his business is failing, you’d think he’d want to improve the local economy. And reviving Harrington as a tourist attraction would certainly help.”

  Paul snapped his fingers. “Kate, you’re a genius.”

  She beamed at him. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You already know what I’m going to suggest?”

  “I think so. It’s the conclusion I was hoping you’d reach.”

  “It could all come together, couldn’t it?” Paul asked with enthusiasm. “A way to preserve the past and help provide for the future. But how do we get everyone on the same page?”

  “I have a few thoughts about that,” Kate said. “If you don’t have to head straight back to the church.”

  Paul crossed his arms and smiled. “I’m all ears.”

  “Well, I need you to round up the chamber of commerce. And the man you met with last night from the state community development office.”

  “Round them up when?”

  “Tomorrow at lunchtime.”

  “And what do I tell them?”

  “You can tell the state official the whole truth. As for Lawton and the other fellows, just say they’re invited to a special luncheon. I’ll arrange to have Ellen there.”

  “And Oliver?”

  “I don’t think he needs to be in on the plans until they’re firm,” Kate said. “I’d just as soon leave him out of it for now. We’ll be able to prove Ellen’s claim to the property, so we won’t be trespassing.”

  “You really think we can pull this off?”

  “As long as I’m right about the location of the will.”

  Paul reached over and squeezed her hand. “Have I said recently how amazing you are?”

  “Well, wait and see what happens tomorrow. Then we’ll see if amazing is the right word.”

  “I don’t doubt it will be.” He leaned over to brush a kiss on her lips. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few phone calls to make to set up a very important meeting tomorrow.”

  “I have one or two things to accomplish myself.” Kate gave him a wink, then picked up their plates and carried them to the sink. “And I’ll need you a little later on for a special assignment.”

  “Once you find the will, maybe things will be quiet for a change,” Paul teased.

  “And maybe I finally can get some work done on my class project.”

  “That was what got you into this quagmire in the first place, wasn’t it?” Paul teased. “Your desire for more education?”

  Kate reached for the dishtowel and pretended to swat at him. “Now enough of that, Paul Hanlon. You’ve got work to do. Shoo.”

  Paul chuckled as he retreated through the kitchen entryway. Then he called out “Love you!” just before Kate heard the front door close behind him. She knew he would do his best to make sure his share of the arrangements were in place for the following day.

  She wiped her hands on the dishtowel, then reached for the phone. She punched in a number that had become very familiar over the past few weeks.

  “Martha? It’s Kate. I don’t know if you’re busy tomorrow, but I sure could use your help.”

  Martha, of course, couldn’t be more delighted at the request and volunteered to enlist Dot’s help as well. Ten minutes later, the wheels were in motion, and Kate was more optimistic than ever that Ellen’s dream of restoring Harrington would come true.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The next morning, Kate, Ellen, Martha, and Dot stuffed every nook and cranny of Kate’s trunk with supplies, then piled into her car and headed for High Hoot Ridge. Kate had wanted them to get an early start so that they’d have enough time to prepare for their lunch guests.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to tell us what you’ve got up your sleeve?” Ellen asked as Kate drove up the winding dirt road. “Other than feeding an army?”

  “It’s a surprise,” Kate said. “Let’s just say we’re having an impromp
tu party.” She could see Martha and Dot beaming with anticipation in the backseat.

  Ellen shook her head, but the hint of a smile played around her lips. “For a minister’s wife, you’re pretty sneaky.”

  “I try,” Kate said.

  Golden fall sunshine dappled the trees, the leaves turning orange and yellow. Kate couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day to put her plan into action.

  “Here we are.” This time, she followed the rutted remains of the road around the curve until she came to a stop in front of the big house.

  “I’ve never been up here,” Martha said, climbing out of the car, “but my mother used to talk about it.”

  After they unloaded the supplies from the car, Ellen showed Dot and Martha around the little town. Meanwhile Kate set up a makeshift table on the porch of the big house, using a couple of sawhorses and a length of plywood, then she covered it with a piece of oilcloth. By the time the ladies returned, she was setting out plates of sandwiches and side items.

  “It looks delicious,” Ellen said. “How can I help?”

  “There’s a box over there,” Kate said, nodding toward the porch steps. “But be careful. It has breakables.”

  Ellen carried the box onto the porch and began to open it. Kate set out the napkins and flatware as she watched Ellen out of the corner of her eye.

  “My grandmother’s punch bowl!” Ellen drew the object from the box and lovingly caressed the edges of the cut glass. “I can’t believe it. Where did you find it?” She looked at Kate in disbelief.

  “Fortunately I was in Smith Street Gifts not too long after Oliver had been there doing business.” Kate poured punch into the bowl. “He must have gotten his hands on it somewhere along the way. I knew you’d want to have it.”

  “Thank you.” She stopped and looked at Kate across the table. “I know I seem to be saying that with great regularity, but I am truly grateful.”

  “Oh, just wait,” Kate teased. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  All of Ellen’s pleas, though, couldn’t entice Kate to say anymore. With all four women working away, they had the luncheon ready to serve in no time.