by Kathi Daley
We sat down at the kitchen table to talk things through. Tony had a laptop upstairs, and if we needed more juice we could always go down to the basement, but it seemed easiest to talk upstairs, where we could keep an eye on the animals.
“So, what did you find?” I asked.
Tony sat forward, resting his arms on the table in front of him. “I found evidence that Chip once had a Montana State driver’s license under the name Greg Townsend. It expired when he was twenty-one and he never renewed it. I looked for a license in the same name in another state but didn’t fine one. I’m not sure why. I suppose it’s possible he lost his license for some reason; maybe he had a DUI or some other infraction that would lead to a suspension of his license. Or he might have been incarcerated, although I haven’t found a criminal record for him after he left White Eagle. He could have been out of the country, or he may have changed his name. It’s hard to say at this point.”
“How do we find him if he doesn’t even have a driver’s license? What about social security records?”
“I’m looking into his work history as Greg. So far, I haven’t found anything, which leads me to believe he either changed his name or left the country, as I suggested, but it’s early yet. I’m sure something will pop eventually.”
“It seems pretty strange that he simply disappeared. Who does that these days?”
“It’s possible he stole an identity or has been living off the radar using an alias. Maybe he got tired of people making the connection between him and his father, so he might have changed his name without bothering to go through the court system to make it legal. If he did steal an identity, there wouldn’t be a paper trail to follow.”
“If he changed his name, I don’t see how we’ll ever find him,” I groaned.
Tony shrugged. “It’s too soon to give up. I figure I’ll widen my search criteria for Greg Townsend. If I don’t find anything, we might need to consider the alias idea.”
I sat back in my chair and considered the situation. Who knew it would be so hard to find him given today’s technology? Everyone, it seemed, was linked to the internet in one way or another and easily found via a simple Google search. “Maybe we should change gears a bit. We’ve been looking for Chip, but maybe we should be looking for people who knew him. If we can’t find clues to where he might have been in the last twenty-five years, maybe we can find a relative or family friend he stayed in touch with.”
Tony stretched out his long legs. “You said he was relatively happy and settled between his junior year of high school and December of his senior year, when his father showed up in the news. Did he have a girlfriend?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Why do you ask?”
“It just seems a girlfriend could be someone he’d open up to. Not about his father or his past, but maybe about a positive childhood memory, like an uncle who took him camping or a grandfather who had a cabin at the lake. That sort of thing. If Chip had a family member he continued to stay in touch with, that might be our best bet at finding him.”
“I didn’t ask Sue about a girlfriend when I spoke to her today, but I will.” I glanced at the clock. “It’s sort of late to call now. I’ll do it in the morning.”
Tony clapped his hands together. “We’ve done what we can for tonight. How about we finish that video game while I have you relaxed and pliant from the wine.”
I laughed. “In your dreams. A little wine isn’t going to slow me down one bit. You should know by now that my killer instinct never goes dormant. I was pretty close to beating you last night and most likely would have if it hadn’t been so late.”
Tony stood up, reached out a hand, and pulled me to my feet. “Okay, my little terminator. Let’s see what you’ve got. Would you care to make a wager?”
“How about a buck?” I figured a dollar was all I could afford to lose.
Tony locked eyes with me. “How about something more personal?”
I felt a catch in my throat. “Personal?”
Tony used a finger to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Loser gives the winner a shoulder rub.”
I let out a breath. A shoulder rub sounded innocent enough. “Deal. I could use a shoulder rub after all that lifting and hauling today. In fact, I’m pretty sore. I hope you have enough energy left after our long day to get in there deep and work out those kinks.”
Tony began to cough. He picked up his water and took a drink. “Trust me. I’m good with kinks.”
Chapter 7
Sunday, May 6
I woke the next morning to an empty room. Tilly and the kittens had slept with me, so the fact that they weren’t there now seemed to indicate Tony was already up and had let them out. I glanced out the window and smiled. It was another beautiful day. Sunshine and plenty of it, by the look of things. I put my arms over my head and stretched. It was nice to have a day every now and then when there were no demands on my time requiring me to wake by a certain hour. I was momentarily tempted to snuggle back in and sleep for another half hour, but the smell of cinnamon and coffee began to penetrate my sleep-clogged mind.
“Um,” I said aloud after inhaling deeply. Coffee did seem pretty wonderful, and cinnamon? Unless my sense of smell was off completely, it seemed Tony was baking something sweet. Cinnamon rolls? Cinnamon bread? Suddenly, I had to know.
I peeled back the covers and sat up on the side of the bed. I looked around the room. I’d chosen this room because of the color that first time I’d stayed over. Tony had told me to pick any room I wanted, so I’d wandered around to find just the right one. I loved the way the light gray walls trimmed with white crown molding provided an earthy contrast to the furniture, which was hardwood. The color of the tall, majestic bed matched the flooring: a dark wood that seemed to bring the feel of the forest indoors. The deep blue comforter on the king bed contrasted nicely with the light blue sheets and dark blue pillowcases.
I glanced out the window again at the sun shimmering on the lake in the distance. The view from this room was spectacular too. It appeared we were going to be in for another warm day, so I pulled on a pair of denim shorts, a white tank top, and a dark blue sweatshirt, then headed to the attached bathroom. I brushed my teeth and washed up a bit, then went downstairs.
“What smells so wonderful?” I asked as Tony handed me a hot cup of coffee in a sturdy stoneware mug.
“Apple cinnamon muffins. I wanted to make blueberry, but I’m out of berries. I’ll stop by the farmers market while we’re out today.”
“We’re going out?” I asked after petting Tilly, who had abandoned her spot on the floor next to Titan to greet me.
Tony poured cracked and beaten eggs into a pan and began to scramble them. “It occurred to me that it might be beneficial to speak to the folks at the assisted-living facility where Edna lived before she passed. We talked about the fact that Chip might have stayed in touch with a relative or family friend. Maybe Edna mentioned such a person to someone she met while living there. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s a lovely day and a drive to Kalispell would be nice anyway.”
I walked over to the window and looked out. Tang had caught sight of me and wandered into the kitchen with Tinder on his tail. I set down my coffee and picked up both kittens for a cuddle, rubbing their soft fur against my face as they began to purr. Then I put them down, picked up my coffee, and turned back to Tony. “It’s a nice day and a drive would be relaxing. We can bring the dogs and stop at the lake. Do you think the assisted-living facility will allow us to just pop in and start talking to folks?”
Tony stirred the eggs. “I called ahead and explained who I was and what I wanted. The woman I spoke to said it would be fine to come by and speak to the staff and residents who may have known Edna if we stayed in the common areas. She thought with the nice weather a lot of the residents would want to spend time out on the patio, which seems like as good a spot as any to start. She also said it would be best to come by before lunch. A lot of the residents nap in the afternoon.
I told her we’d probably be there around ten-thirty.”
“Chip said he wanted to meet Edna in their ‘special spot’ on Mother’s Day. We should ask about that.” I took a sip of my coffee. I felt the warmth slide down my throat. Heaven.
“Chances are, the spot Chip referred to is in or close to White Eagle,” Tony added. “It might be a good idea to talk to some of Edna’s local friends as well. She might have shared a fond memory with them when she lived here.”
I walked over to the counter and leaned my elbows against it. “Patty Paulson owns the trinket shop next to Bree’s bookstore, which used to be Edna’s antique store. I think she’s about the same age as Edna was, so they might have been friends. We can stop in to chat with her.”
“Is she open on Sunday?” Tony scooped fluffy eggs onto a platter.
“She is. The shop is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Let’s drop by on our way to Kalispell. I think she opens at nine and closes at three on Sundays, so we might be too late to catch her by the time we get back.”
Tony slid the muffins out of the oven and set them on a hot pad, then transferred them to a plate and set that on the table next to the eggs. After adding a bowl of strawberries with whipped cream to the table, he went back for the coffeepot and topped off our mugs. He made certain I had everything I needed before sitting down across from me.
“I was really in the mood for blueberry, but these apple cinnamon muffins turned out well,” Tony said after taking a bite.
“They’re delicious. Is that nutmeg and maybe some allspice I taste?”
Tony nodded. “I used several spices in addition to the cinnamon to give it more of a kick; ginger and cloves, as well as a few other things. I’d like to try this same recipe with peaches or apricots rather than apples. The farmers market should begin having a wider selection of summer fruit in a month or so.”
“They have that big farmers market in Kalispell on the weekends. Maybe we should stop by. Between our planting yesterday and this talk of summer fruits, I’m suddenly in the mood for some fresh produce. The larger market has a much better selection than our little local one.”
Tony took a bite of his eggs. “Other than the assisted-living facility, Patty’s trinket shop, and the farmers market, is there anywhere else you want to go today?”
“I still need to call Sue Wade. If she remembers Chip having a girlfriend in high school, I might try to track her down. Other than that, I can’t think of anyone Chip might have confided in about a favorite relative or childhood memory. It seems to me that guys don’t talk with one another about that sort of thing.”
“Not generally,” Tony agreed. He dipped a strawberry in the whipped cream, then popped it into his mouth. He chewed slowly before continuing. “Still, under the right set of circumstances, he might share that sort of memory with a friend. Maybe someone who’d experienced something similar.”
“Perhaps. So, how about you? Do you have a favorite relative or childhood memory?”
Tony smiled. He took a second strawberry and repeated the dipping-and-eating process. “Absolutely.”
“And would you be willing to share those memories with this friend?”
He grinned. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
I laughed. “Assuming you’re being provocative to tease and don’t intend for us to show anything in a literal sense, I’ll swap memories with you, but you go first.”
“Very well. My favorite relative is my grandmother, who I refer to as Nona. She lives in a small village in northern Italy, and she’s the best cook in the entire world.”
“She’s your favorite because she’s a good cook?”
“Partially. But it’s more than that. When I was young my parents were frustrated by my intelligence. I didn’t understand it then, but now I can see they weren’t sure what to do with me, and I guess I caused them some grief with my behavior problems in school. That drove a wedge between us.”
“You were bored, and probably frustrated,” I said.
Tony looked surprised. “Exactly. The adults in my life—my parents and teachers— understood the bored part. Their solution to my classroom misbehavior was to have me read a book while the rest of the class completed math worksheets that took them an hour but me only a few minutes. I guess I can see why they might consider that a good solution, but what they didn’t get was that I wasn’t just bored, I was frustrated. I had a voracious appetite for knowledge. I wanted to be challenged. I wanted to learn new things, but my parents didn’t want to send me to a school for gifted students or have me placed in an accelerated learning program. They wanted me to go to a normal school with kids my own age, so I’d have a normal life. The problem was, the teachers who taught my classes, to which I was assigned purely based on my age, didn’t have anything to teach me that I didn’t already know. I felt stifled and stagnant. As I got older and smarter, I became increasingly frustrated, so I acted out.”
“And Nona could challenge you?”
“She did, although not in the way I really yearned to be challenged. She wasn’t a genius and she couldn’t talk to me about math or computers, but she knew how to do things I didn’t, so she taught them to me. She taught me to cook and to weave. She taught me to map the stars and to speak Italian. She taught me about gardening and irrigation systems, and she even taught me to read and understand the great philosophers. My parents worked a lot of hours when I was in grade school, so every summer, I was sent to stay with Nona. Those were the best summers of my life.”
“Do you still visit?”
“Every chance I get. I was just in Italy last month for a week, and I plan to go back for a couple of weeks over the summer.”
I sat back in my chair. “I’d love to meet your nona someday. She sounds wonderful. And if you learned to cook from her, I’d love to try her cooking. I don’t like to cook, but I love to eat.”
Tony appeared thoughtful. “And I’d love for you to meet her.” He took a sip of his coffee. “She can be picky when it comes to the women in my life, but I think she’d like you.”
“The women in your life? Have you taken many to meet her?”
“No, but she has a way of keeping an eye on me even from a distance. So, how about you? Do you have a favorite relative or childhood memory?”
I paused for a moment to think about that. I didn’t have a lot of relatives, but I was very fond of the ones I did. “I think all my relatives are my favorite in one way or another. My mom is nurturing, and encouraging, and so very special to me, and Aunt Ruthie was such a rock to Mom, Mike, and me after Dad died, or I guess I should say, after he disappeared. Mike can be a tool at times, but overall he’s a fantastic brother, and even my cousin Jimmy is an okay guy.”
“How about a favorite memory?” Tony encouraged.
“I think I’d have to say that was a fishing trip I took with my dad when I was around six or seven.” I felt a warmth in my heart toward my father now that I hadn’t since I’d learned he probably hadn’t died but had been living a secret life all these years. “Every summer, Dad and Mike took a fishing trip. They went up to Rock Lake to stay at my uncle’s cabin for a week. I remember wanting to go so badly, but it was a father-son thing and girls weren’t allowed. Then, one summer, just before the trip, Mike got sick. Dad was going to go alone, but I managed to talk him in to letting me go in Mike’s place. It was a magical seven days. We cooked over a campfire, fished, hiked, and swam. It was the best week of my life.”
“That sounds pretty wonderful.”
I smiled. “It was. Of course, after having this wonderful experience and really knowing what I was missing, I was twice as mad the following summer when I was once again left at home while Mike got to go with Dad. There were times when being a girl and the youngest really sucked.”
“Didn’t you do special mother-daughter things with your mom?” Tony asked.
I shrugged. “Mom tried to find things for us to do together, but we weren’t on the same page. She liked to cook and
sew, and I liked to hike and fish.” I paused to let the memories wash over me. “Looking back, I think I hurt her feelings when I refused to learn to do the things she loved, but I found the whole home-and-hearth thing so boring. Do you know, my mom makes her own candles and enjoys doing crafts? Me, I want to be outside, hiking, swimming, and skiing, not indoors doing what feels like nothing more than extra chores.”
Tony put his hand over mine. I could see understanding and sympathy in his eyes. “It’s hard when your parents have a different plan for your life than you do, but in my case, it all worked out.”
“What do you mean?”
“As I said, I wanted very badly to be allowed to attend a school for gifted students, where I knew I would be challenged intellectually and hoped to find peers with whom I could find common ground. My parents discussed allowing me to apply for a gifted program when I entered middle school, but then, at the last minute, they changed their mind and decided to move the family instead. When we moved to White Eagle, I thought my life was over. It was even smaller than the town where we’d been living. I realized I not only wasn’t going to get the education I craved but moving also meant I didn’t have any friends. As you remember, I was pretty much an outcast when I first started school here.”
“I remember the kids at school were pretty brutal. I was pretty mean to you in the beginning too.”
“Maybe. But you were different. You had a hunger. A drive. I knew from the moment I met you that we were going to play an important role in each other’s lives. In the end, it all worked out, and I consider the move to White Eagle to be one of the most important events of my life.”
“Why?”
“If my parents hadn’t moved us here, I would never have met you, and I think that would have been tragic.”
“Aw, Tony.” I grasped his hand. “That’s so sweet. And you know you mean a lot to me too. I’m sorry your parents didn’t provide you with the education you craved, but I’m not sorry they moved here. You really are one of my very best friends, and I trust you more than anyone in my life. You certainly are the only one who knows all my secrets.”