Heartwood

by Catherine Lane

  He was grinning like a flea in a dog kennel.

  Maggie took in a ragged breath and glanced back down. Her name was still on the form. Not a joke.

  Just then Lauren rounded the corner from her small office and took in the trio. “What’s going on here?”

  Skylar immediately backed up to distance herself from the situation.

  Try as she might, Maggie couldn’t raise her head. She didn’t want to see the disappointment that would light up in Lauren’s eyes.

  Lauren took two steps toward Harlan, towering over him. “Look, Harlan. I don’t want any trouble—”

  Harlan squawked, and then a low rumble came from his mouth. “Trouble? I’m not the trouble here. But it’s sure coming to the Springs. Ask Maggie. She seems to be in the thick of it.”

  All heads twisted to Maggie as Harlan laughed and made his way out of the shop.

  “Maggie? What’s going on?” Lauren asked again.

  Ignoring her, Maggie watched Harlan stop at the woman standing just a few feet from the door, sticking out his hand before she unloaded several envelopes right into his palm. His fingers had nearly closed, when she snatched some back. As Harlan trotted away, she raised her head.

  Maggie’s breath caught in her throat as their gazes locked. A current of energy zipped between them, tugging at both ends.

  She was even hotter than Maggie remembered with her big eyes, tight stomach, and high, full breasts. Now Maggie’s breath was bottling up in her chest.

  Too bad she was on the dark side.

  The restraining order was suddenly heavy in her hand.

  She rushed out the door.

  Lea’s assistant turned away and started tapping on her cell phone.

  “Hey.” Maggie trotted after her. “This is a mistake, right? All I did was peek in her room.”

  She sped up to get away from Maggie.

  “Hey! Stop. I’m talking to you.”

  “I can’t discuss the case with you, Ms. Chalon.”

  Maggie reached out and grabbed her. Her arm was taut and firm under the silk blouse, and an electric tingling ran from Maggie’s fingers into her belly as soon as she made contact.

  The woman stilled, looked down at her arm where Maggie’s fingers still rested for a long beat, and then raised her head. Her eyes were wide and thoughtful not pinched and hostile, as Maggie had expected. They stared at each other, lost in the moment.

  “Hello, Nikka?” Lea’s low voice rose from the phone in the woman’s hand. “What do you have for me?”

  Lea’s voice broke the spell. Nikka shook Maggie’s hand off, brought the phone up to her ear, and began to walk away, all in one motion.

  “The process server you hired did his job. Documented it as well.”

  Maggie stood rooted to the ground.

  “Yes. I gave him some,” Nikka said into the phone as she headed out of the mall. “No. Not all. I want to make sure they are done right and that everything is ready for your arrival.”

  With these last words, Maggie’s heart sank. As usual, Harlan had it completely back-asswards. Trouble wasn’t coming to the Springs. It was already here, and the restraining order was just the tip of the iceberg. This, whatever it was, was way bigger than she was.

  She headed back to the bakery. Somehow in the few moments she had been gone, Justine from All Jacked Up had snuck in and was holding court. She jabbed at a piece of paper in her hand, her finger making popping noises with every stab.

  “So I called the guy on the business card, and all I got was voice mail. I mean seriously, if they’re going to come into my store and tell me how to run my business, the very least they can do is be there like they said they would. I mean, really…the recipes in that book are my mother’s. For Christ’s sake, I don’t have any idea if Beth Walker even likes cinnamon.”

  Lauren slid the letter from her hand, so Justine’s next jab hit only air. “Calm down.”

  Maggie stopped listening. She knew from hard experience that it would take Lauren all afternoon to achieve this goal, and even then, there would probably have to be alcohol involved. She ran her finger down the restraining order. Nikka Vaskin was listed as Beth Walker’s lawyer. Yep, that was what Lea had called her.

  “Have you seen this?” Cora from Pick of the Litter stormed into the bakery, holding out a small cell phone as if anyone could actually read it.

  “Did you get a letter too?” Justine asked. “Cuz, you know, we all got one.”

  “Yes…Yes. But this is why they’re doing it.” She thrust the cell phone out. “It was just announced.”

  “Let me see.” Lauren held out her hand and swiped the screen with her thumb and forefinger.

  “Well, what is it?” Justine asked. “Read the damn thing.”

  “Wait a second. Bad eyes…” Lauren swooshed the screen to make it bigger.

  “It’s a press release from Beth Walker’s publisher.” Cora’s eyes flashed. “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “Kerry and Collier, an imprint of Collier Publishers,” Lauren began to read, “celebrates its good luck in acquiring the rights to a newly discovered short story by Beth Walker, adored author of both Heartwood and the Don’t Waste Your Wishes series. The deal was negotiated by Collier Publishers and Beth Walker via her lawyer, Lea Truman of Truman and Steinbrecker. The story titled ‘The Tarot Card’ will be published electronically and will be available at our webstore and on Amazon.com starting at 9 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, Friday.” She stopped reading and looked at all of them. “Wow. Can you believe she wrote a new story after all this time?”

  “No, I can’t,” Maggie said from her corner. Everyone turned to her. “From what I saw out there, she couldn’t even write a grocery list.”

  “It did say newly discovered,” Cora said. “Maybe she wrote it a long time ago.”

  “So why is she publishing it now?” Maggie’s mind spun with this new development, with the restraining order, with the fluttering in her stomach that still hadn’t died down. “She had decades to do it, if she really wanted to. The timing seems awfully suspicious.”

  “It sure does. How did you find this?” Justine’s tone sharpened. “They contact you?”

  “No. Of course not.” Cora waved her hand dismissively at Justine. “Berry found it. I think it just came out, like this hour. You know she’s crazy for all things Walker, and her phone is practically glued to her hand. Read the rest.”

  “Even more exciting news will be announced on Friday.” Lauren started up again. “At a press conference at Beth Walker’s house, where Walker herself, in a rare appearance, will inform the general public of yet another newly discovered manuscript, which will give great insight into Walker’s own same-sex relationship with a famous movie star.”

  Everyone, except Maggie, started talking at once.

  “Who? Who?”

  “Hot damn.”

  “I always knew she was queer.”

  “Exciting, uh?”

  “You’re right, Cora. All this is starting to make sense,” Lauren said. “They come up here and cut us off before all this. There’ll be Walker mania, and we won’t be able to capitalize on it.”

  Cora nodded. “They’re banking on the fact that we’ll want in on all this good fortune, and so we’ll jump at any crummy deal they push in front of us.”

  “Except you.” Justine inclined her head toward Lauren. “You don’t have any Walker cupcakes or anything like that. You’re fine.”

  “So?”

  “Just saying.”

  “What are you suggesting? I’m not in league with them or anything.”

  Maggie groaned. She couldn’t help it. This kind of talk was getting them nowhere. Justine’s lips were pushed out, and her brow was furrowed. She was mad. Maggie got that; she was mad too. She had just been served with a restraining order for Christ’s sake. But arguing with each other was getting them nowhere. The only important person in this equation was Beth. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that. Beth was the o
ne in the middle of this shit storm.

  “Look,” she said to Lauren and Cora, “the doggie pops are all done.” Actually, she was two short, but she would apologize later. “I’m going to take my lunch break. I’ll be back.” She untied her apron and flung it onto the counter on her way out the front door.

  A summer breeze ran through the mall, and she swiped her hand through her bangs to get them out of her eyes. Harlan would hopefully still be on the second floor, doing Truman and Steinbrecker’s dirty work. Sure enough, she met him on the stairway.

  “Hello, Maggie.” His leer was all teeth and lips. “Ain’t got nothing more for you, babe, unless you’re angling for something a little less legal and a little more manly.”

  “Save it, Harlan. Can you tell me where this Nikka Vaskin is staying? She’s here in town, right?”

  “Actually, I don’t know.” He jumped down the last two steps and stood by Maggie, coming up only to her shoulder. “I deal with some assistant in the office, and when they come up on my phone, both numbers are blocked.”

  “Okay.” She bit her lip. She already knew she wasn’t dealing with amateurs. “Call the assistant, will you? Find out where Nikka Vaskin is staying.”

  “Why? She can’t take the order back. You’ve got to go to court in ten days, and that’s when they decide for real.”

  “I know.” She didn’t, but she didn’t want to give Harlan even a little edge. Maggie impatiently fingered her palm as if it were a cell phone. “Just call her.”

  “Oh. I get it. You want to make trouble.” He whipped out his cell phone. “I can totally get on board with that.”

  It occurred to Maggie right then and there that he liked drama even more than money. Probably why he was so very good at his job.

  “Alison, it’s Harlan Potter. I need to get some documents back to Vaskin, but stupid me, I didn’t write down the name of the place she was staying. It’s something with river in it somewhere… Right. That’s it. Thanks.” Hanging up, he blew on his fingers and swiped them twice on his shoulder. “I’m good.”

  “Where is she?”

  “No. Admit it. You get it, right?”

  “Of course, I do. Ninety percent of the places to stay here have the word river in their names. Okay, it’s clever, I’ll admit it. So which one is it?”

  “The Riverside Inn.”

  “Figures. The nicest place in town. I guess they don’t mind spending Beth’s money since they’re stealing it from us.” Actually, it was good. Not too far out of town. She could ride her bike. Someday, not having a car was going to bite her in the butt, but not today. “Thanks, Harlan.”

  Back at the bakery’s door, she dropped a hand on her mountain bike. Not one to let grass grow under her feet, she could pedal out right there and then. Then she remembered the look on Lauren’s face when she had cut out two days ago. She pushed the bike back against the wall. If she wanted to keep this job and, more importantly, a good friendship, she would have to hold off until quitting time.

  The Riverside Inn was beautiful at sunset. Everything was awash in an orange glow, and behind the hotel, the river with the sun falling into it looked almost as if it were lit from within. Maggie, however, only had eyes for the front door and hastily crammed her bike into the crowded hotel rack.

  The lobby was empty on such a pretty night. Glasses clinked from the seasonal bar on the lawn, and music and happy chatter drifted in as well. Okay, step one. She was here. She took a deep breath and shook out her hands the way she always did before a tough climb up a mountain course. How could she get Nikka Vaskin’s room number? Germaine couldn’t be charmed to break the law. She didn’t have any of Harlan’s wily tricks up her sleeve. She could hang out here, lame as it was. Nikka would have to pass through at some point.

  Or—a form caught her eye—maybe she could just turn right. There, at the far end of the lobby almost completely hidden by the stone fireplace, was Nikka, tapping away on a silver laptop.

  Maggie would recognize that soft, shiny hair or the curve of her neck anywhere. Boy, was she sexy, especially now that she had changed out of her work clothes and into casual jeans and a T-shirt. Maggie purposefully bit the inside of her lip. She had to stop thinking about the enemy like this.

  She marched across the room and plunked down in a chair right in front of Nikka. She tried for the element of surprise.

  Nikka didn’t flinch.

  Damn—she liked that in her women.

  Instead, Nikka slowly lifted her head and once again met Maggie’s look head-on. A steely glint entered her eyes, and she raised an eyebrow as if to say, Yes, can I help you?

  Maggie settled back into the chair and held up both hands, palms out. “Okay. So why don’t you tell me what the fuck is really going on here?”

  CHAPTER 6

  April 1960

  “Can we run those errands another day? I’m too tired.” Dawn had once again opened the front door even before Beth knocked. The light normally shining in her eyes had dimmed, and her face pinched in around the edges. “Let’s just go straight to your parents’ house for dinner. Okay?”

  “We don’t have to go at all. I can call them.” Beth reached out to comfort Dawn but dropped her hand at the last minute. “Let’s tell them you’re too tired. I’ll run into town to get something for dinner, and we can just stay here?” Hope swelled inside Beth’s chest. If they were alone, maybe she could bring up the only subject she wanted to discuss tonight—the kiss.

  “No. We should go.” Dawn slid past her and headed to the truck. “I’m sure your mother has gone to a lot of trouble over tonight, and I don’t want to disappoint your father and brother either.”

  Beth raced ahead to open the car door for her. “Okay. If you’re sure.” After helping her into the car, she let her hand linger under Dawn’s forearm. The skin was so soft and warm, she couldn’t pull away. But mostly she wanted to see if Dawn would respond.

  She didn’t.

  As they bounced down the road in the black Chevy, Beth stole a glance at Dawn. She sat without speaking, one hand cradling her tiny baby bump. When had that happened? It hadn’t been there yesterday. Beth would’ve noticed when they were…

  The road ahead of her blurred. The thought of the kiss was driving her crazy. What did it mean, and would it happen again? Would she be able to handle it if it did? Or worse, if it didn’t?

  She blinked twice, and when the road didn’t come into focus, she rubbed her eyes. She had gotten almost no sleep the night before as she’d tossed and turned on her little twin bed, trying to unpack what had happened out at Fern House. Finally, around sunrise, she had drifted off and dreamed that Dawn had laughed long and hard after the kiss. It had just been a mean joke on her part. Beth had woken with her fingers on her lips and a pain piercing her heart.

  With Dawn just inches from her, she was no closer to an answer. Beth was pulled in by the comforting warmth that always seemed to surround Dawn. But her head rested against the passenger window, and her eyes were closed. She was giving nothing away.

  After the silent ride, Beth pulled up to her parents’ house right off the main street in the center of town and tried to take in the view the way Dawn might. A ranch-style house sat on a small lot. Flowers and ivy draped over planters under the front windows, and the line on the freshly mowed lawn was so straight, it was immediately clear what her father had spent the morning doing. Beth had always thought her house pleasant and tidy, but now she only saw small and provincial. All this was a big, giant arrow to the enormous gulf that existed between her and the woman next to her.

  “Ready?” Beth asked softly as she cut the engine.

  Dawn nodded, and then as if a switch had been flipped, her whole face lit up. The pinched look, the tired eyes, all instantly vanished. When she stepped out of the truck, she pushed her shoulders back, and every inch of her was the glamorous movie star from Hollywood. She met Beth’s surprised gaze over the flatbed of the truck and shrugged. “Showtime.”

  “Mom?
Pop?” Beth opened her front door. “We’re here.”

  Her father and brother already stood waiting for them in the front room. Sammy danced on the balls of his feet, buttoned into a suit a little too small for him. When Dawn walked through the door, his eyes nearly popped out of his head.

  Dawn threw him a dazzling smile in return, and then, when Sammy visibly melted under its heat, she shifted the smile to Carl, who came at her with his hand outstretched.

  “Mrs. Montgomery. Please come in. We are thrilled to welcome you into our humble home.”

  Beth jerked her head toward her father. Humble home? Who was this man? He sounded like the preacher on that Sunday radio show that he and her mother loved.

  Carl leaned in a little too close to Dawn.

  Beth bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. She had never seen her father even a little bit anxious before.

  “Oh please, call me Dawn. But if you really want to be accurate, you’d have to call me Teresa. Teresa Rusco.”

  “Who’s that?” Sammy bounced around her like a puppy.

  “Me!” Dawn waited until Beth’s mother had appeared at the kitchen door and everyone’s attention was riveted on her. “Teresa Rusco is my real name.”

  “Teresa… Rusco…” Sammy rolled the syllables around on his tongue as if it were an alien language.

  “You’re Italian?” Carl’s eyes widened just a little.

  “Very distantly, on my father’s side. But, yes, you hit the nail right on the head. The studio thought the name way too ethnic.”

  “So they just up and changed it to Dawn Montgomery?” Sammy, unable to keep still, tugged at his collar. “They can do that?”

  Dawn laughed, and music seemed to fill the air. “Well, the Montgomery part is Jimmy’s last name, but there were a bunch of meetings about the first name, for sure. None of which I actually went to, of course. But if I remember right, I think they were also considering Donna and Janet. Happily, neither of those tested well.”

  “The name suits you,” Mary said, her hand up at her neck, fingering her cross. “Very glamorous.”