by Judy Kentrus
“Hey, boss,” she greeted with a smile. “Do you need me for something?”
“I always need you, but right now I’m trying to track down Northrup.”
“He and Sallie Mae are alone in the dining room. The grill is still hot. What can I fix you for lunch?”
“I hadn’t thought about eating, but now that you mention it, I’ll have a burger medium rare with fried onions, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“That’s it? How about a side order of cheese and gravy fries?”
He gave her a thumbs up. “Why not?”
Sallie Mae’s face lit up when he walked into the room. Billie Holiday’s mellow voice was singing, I’ll be seeing you, in the background. “There’s my boy. She paused and shook her head. “You are the handsomest pirate on the face of the earth, if I do say so myself.” Sallie eyed the half-eaten peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream in front of her. “You have to try some of Sam’s latest dessert. She is a culinary genius.”
Linc kissed the woman he thought of as his surrogate mother on the cheek and sat in the chair beside her. “You can’t keep her and said genius is taking care of my lunch.” He smiled at Northrup. “Just the man I want to see.”
Sallie Mae’s brother set his fork down and wiped his mouth with a pristine linen napkin. “What can I do for you, son?”
“Sir, this has to be kept confidential, between us. I plan to repair the gazebo and have already hired contractor friends of mine to do the work. I’ll need you to secure the permits in your name, ASAP. Brandon and Connor Kelly will arrive the day after tomorrow. It would be helpful if you arrange an account in the name of Kelly’s HVAC so they can purchase lumber and supplies. I’ve already given them your name and number. If anyone asks, they are under contract with you and will deny any association with me.”
Northrup lowered his graying reddish brows. “Kelly, the name sounds familiar. There was a woman in the store who purchased blinds, shades, and household items. She mentioned she was from Mary Maids Janitorial Services and was cleaning the residence above the Taylor’s garage. I believe her first name was Marie. Very pleasant woman. She wore a bunch of hoop earrings and fancy high tops.”
“You described the twins’ mother perfectly. They are a great deal larger and stronger, but just as friendly.”
Northrup pushed his empty plate to the side and crossed his arms on the table in front of him. “That’s a mighty fine thing you’re doing, Lincoln. I’ll do as you ask, but I feel very uncomfortable taking the credit for something you’re doing.”
Sallie Mae patted the back of Linc’s hand. “I agree. The citizens should know about your wonderful generosity.”
“I don’t do things for people and expect something in return, not even their gratitude. The bandstand is an important part of the town’s heritage, so let’s just get it repaired. I’m using the money Buford left me, so technically it’s coming from him.”
Sam chose that moment to bring in his lunch. The serious look on their faces told her it wasn’t a good time to ask questions. “Enjoy your lunch.”
He had one other stop to make before he went home, the post office to pick up his new underwear and the order of chocolate bars for Jessie. He felt a sense of accomplishment when he returned home, but his annoyance with Margaret Taylor was escalating. She still hadn’t responded to his email. He called her cell phone and wasn’t surprised it went straight to voice mail. “Judge, the clock is ticking. I sent you a priority email and need a response ASAP.” His afternoon was relatively free and he needed to work off his frustration. The other section of the garage was calling his name.
Linc opened the garage door and came face to face with wooden crates and evenly stacked storage bins that formed an impenetrable wall that shouted, “Keep out!”
“Yeah, right,” he said and retrieved the old hand truck he’d unearthed when he was working on the other side of the garage. He’d cleared the front half when the area suddenly opened up like the Red Sea. There was actually space to move around, but it was the bed that drew his attention. Ten-inch spoke wheels had been added to the feet of the old brass bed stand. Green tarnish splotches marred the horse-shaped headboard. Someone had placed a large blue tarp on the twin-sized mattress. The top shelf of a wooden bookcase displayed a dozen small cup trophies. Linc selected one and read the dulled brass panel, Laurel Heights Bed Race, First Place. The second level held an assortment of four by six framed photographs. Standing beside the bed were Norman Taylor, Margaret, and Treig. Jessie was sitting on the mattress proudly holding up a blue ribbon. She looked to be about Edie’s age. It saddened him to realize the prize winning bed had been shoved in the back of the garage to be forgotten.
He looked around, and his eye widened at the sight of the old Wurlitzer Juke Box against the back concrete wall. This was another reason why the boxes had been stacked like a protective barricade. Linc wondered if the machine still worked, and used an old rag to remove the layer of dust from the domed Plexiglas cover. The coin slot had been taped over and a sticker read free songs. The device was unplugged and he inserted the metal prongs into a nearby electrical outlet. It took a few moments, but the interior lit up after a long induced slumber. Bright sea-green panels on the bottom half blinked, then flickered to life. He pressed the button for the selection panel and the music was right out of Dick Clark’s American Bandstand era. He recognized a number of songs because Cindi loved to listen to the Oldies. He hit E12 and the old forty-five records spun like a merry-go-round. His selection slid into the slot and the voice of Elvis Presley belting out All Shook Up filled the garage.
The upbeat music gave him the incentive to move a few more boxes and he discovered an old traveler’s chest. Over time, the brass trim had dulled and the black leather sides had dried and cracked. The lock hadn’t been secured. Curiosity got the best of him and he lifted the lid. Inside was a frilly white tutu, a wide brimmed hat with a variety of pastel ribbons, and two costumes a little girl would wear to a recital. Wrapped in a soft protective cloth was a carousel of colorful horses under a red and white striped umbrella dome. He went to close the trunk when he noticed a plastic keepsake box on the very bottom, decorated with Strawberry Shortcake stickers. The owner’s name exploded in his brain, Jessie.
Should he or shouldn’t he? The contents held the private secrets of a young girl’s heart. It would be a way to find out more about the girl he never took the time to know. Curiosity won out, and he looked inside.
Jessie had saved a bracelet made out of blue and pink strips of plastic lanyard and an orange and yellow hand-woven pot holder. A narrow green strip held her Girl Scout level award pins. A Family Circus cartoon book appeared dog eared from having been read so many times. There was a picture of Jessie and Treig in front of Yankee Stadium. Hidden below the items was an envelope. Lincoln had been neatly written on the front. Beside his name was a hand-drawn red heart with the initials JT and LA. He lifted the envelope with slightly shaking hands. The sealed flap had dried over time, making it easy to remove the store-bought valentine decorated with lacy pink hearts and red cupids. Tucked inside was a note on cream colored vellum. Dear Lincoln, I don’t have a boyfriend, but its Valentine’s Day and I want you to know that I love you and wish you were my boyfriend. I can never tell you how I feel because you are my brother’s best friend. You would probably laugh and think I’m silly. I’m only fourteen, but I know what is in my heart. I will love you forever. Your secret girlfriend, Jessie.
Linc was literally shaken and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He read the note three times, not knowing what to make of Jessie’s confession of love. She’d been an adolescent teenager, but her words were so sincere, so heartfelt. He’d never suspected she felt this way about him. He was too busy being angry at the world. Once again, he was torn. Should he leave the Valentine where he’d found it, or take it as his own keepsake? She’d probably forgotten about the card after all these years. No. He’d only accept the card if it came directly from Jessie. He retu
rned the card to its secret hiding place.
He searched a little further and came up with a list Jessie had written on lined notebook paper. My Favorite Things. l) Eating S’mores over an open fire; 2) A bunch of daffodils; 3) Caramel apples; 4) A kiss on the cheek; 5) Eating cotton candy on a merry-go-round; 6) A ride on the old train; 7) Home-made raisin bread with honey butter; 8) A hug from my one and only love, Lincoln. He took a quick picture before replacing the note along with the box. For good measure, he stacked cardboard boxes on top of the trunk. The garage had indeed held special treasures. He was still shaken by what he read, when he heard Jessie’s Ford Explorer, but cautioned himself to act normal.
“Someone’s been busy,” she said, still chewing the last of the candy bar she’d found on the seat of her car when she left headquarters.
Jess always looked smart in her uniform and walked with a slight, hip-swinging swagger. It turned him on. Down boy, he told himself. “Now I know what Edie meant by your father’s treasures. I found the prize-winning bed.” Linc sat on the blue tarp and patted the empty space beside him.
Jess hesitated. Sitting close to him on a bed was flirting with danger. The garage door was open, and her mother would be coming home soon, she reasoned, so they couldn’t get into trouble, namely each other. The plastic tarp crackled when she sat and tightly folded her hands in her lap, so she wouldn’t be tempted to loosen the leather strip that bound his night-black hair. “The bed hasn’t been used since my father passed away.” Thinking of her dad filled her with sadness. “He loved the bed race and kept his baby in tiptop condition. No one ever stood a chance against Taylor’s Tornado. The rules stipulated that only one person could ride in the bed during the race, so he used me because I was the lightest one in the family.”
Jess’s eyes were drawn to the bright green lights on the juke box. “I can’t believe it still works.” She got up and pushed T25. “My parents loved to dance to the music from the fifties and sixties.” The soft melodic voice of Johnny Mathis singing Chances Are filled the open space.
Linc approached her and held out his arms. “Care to dance?”
“Now?” Jessie laughed.
“Why not? It gives me a legitimate excuse to hold you in my arms.”
“There is that.” It was a natural move to lock her arms about his neck and lay the side of her face against his shoulder. When his arms slipped around her waist, securing her against his body, Jessie sighed, breathing in his intoxicating scent. She loved being held in his arms.
“Chances are ‘cause I wear a silly grin the moment you come into view. Chances are you think that I’m in love with you. Just because my composure sorta slips, the moment that your lips meet mine, chances are you think my heart’s your Valentine.”
Linc felt Jessie stiffen at the word Valentine and imagined the panic rushing through her body. He tightened his arms and guided their bodies in slow, easy movements, the complete opposite of their racing hearts. Neither of them had forgotten their beautiful afternoon together. He tried to keep things on an even keel. “I met with Detective Catcher this morning.”
“I know, he told me. He said you were very helpful.” Jess turned a nervous eye toward the old trunk, recalling what was hidden inside. The word Valentine had sparked her memory to the card she’d written as a silly, love-sick teenager, expressing her true feelings for Lincoln. God forbid if he opens the trunk. When he wasn’t around, she’d remove the card and throw it away. No, move it to a safer hiding place.
Lincoln brushed his lips across her temple, inhaling the sweet scent from her hair, a scent he recognized from when they’d made love. “Where’s Edie?”
“Having her piano lesson and will be home in an hour.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Buford had given Edie my sister’s piano?”
The direct question was like a jolting slap in the face. Jessie dropped her arms and stepped back, keeping her eyes lowered. “I didn’t say anything, because I thought it might upset you.” It wasn’t a total lie. “The pink and white bike was Jennie’s.”
“I know. There are three engraved initials on the metal frame that I put there myself. Lisa Kay told me about the piano. It would have meant more if the truth had come from you.”
Her head jerked up and she put further distance between them. Frustration and temper surged in her body. It was time to let him know exactly how she felt. “Like you’ve been honest and forthcoming with me? Do you and the judge think I’m stupid? I arrest you for drunk driving and the next thing I know you’re my mother’s damn handyman!” Jess began to pace. “I don’t know where you went when you left Laurel Heights, how you make a living. You have some very rich and powerful friends, who know enough to keep your secrets. You borrowed Scott Landis’ Stingray, but my gut tells me you can afford ten sports cars. The truck you drive is definitely not the same vehicle the manufacturer intended. Your license plates come back to a high rise in Jersey City. I called a realtor referencing the address and was told the condos start at seven hundred and fifty thousand, so you are no pauper. You don’t use credit cards and pay cash for everything. You took out a post office box and pick up your mail on a daily basis rather than let the postman deliver it to the house.”
Jessie was on a roll and not about to stop. “I Googled your name and came up with a dozen hits. The closest I got was an eight hundred number to Adam’s Plumbers. The woman who answered the phone had this squeaky voice and kept calling me honey. She chewed gum and popped bubbles while she spoke to me. She confirmed her boss’ name was Lincoln, like the sixteenth President of these United States, the one who freed the slaves. I asked her to describe him. She said he was tall and skinny, had black hair, and was about sixty-five years old. I asked if her boss wore an eye patch. She giggled and said, ‘no honey, but he did have the cutest beard.’ I don’t think her elevator went to the top floor because she described Abraham Lincoln! You are so full of secrets you could be a magician. I feel like you are laughing behind my back.”
He tried to keep a straight face when Jessie described Cindi Pearl’s performance of a ditzy blond. Before he returned to Laurel Heights, he had Reggie put a block on all searches connecting him to Adams Security and Investigation. Apparently, his head tech missed one of their aliases. Jessie had certainly done her homework. She was very close to finding out who he was. Guilt was eating away at him and he wanted to shout, I can’t answer your questions because of your own mother. Starting an argument with Jessie was the last thing he wanted to do. Their relationship was on a thin tether, and once she learned the truth, it would surely snap. He wanted so much more from her, the love she professed as an adolescent teenager. He had his work cut out for him and knew exactly how he would proceed. But first, he had to gain her trust.
He reached for her hand to make her stop pacing. “I’m sorry, Jessie, I truly am. I realize this hasn’t been easy for you. Give me till the end of the week, and I promise to answer all of your questions.”
“What’s going to change in a few days?” Her voice was laced with suspicion.
Linc took her face in his hands. “I’m asking you to trust me.” He didn’t wait for an answer, but leaned down and took firm possession of her mouth. When her body leaned into his and she returned his kiss, he couldn’t deny his need for her. “We’ve an hour. Come upstairs with me. I so want to be with you again.”
“I,” Jessie stammered when her cell phone rang. She glanced down at the caller ID and frowned. “I have to take this.” She ignored her fast beating heart and walked quickly away from him and temptation.
Linc followed and watched her complexion pale and a watery film cover her eyes. When she gasped, “Oh, my God” he stepped closer and put a supportive hand to her shoulder.
“We’ll be there in an hour or so,” she said hurriedly before ending the call.
“What is it?”
“My brother and his partner have been in an accident. It hasn’t been confirmed, but it appears someone messed with the brake lines on their tr
uck.” Jess touched his hand that rested on her shoulder, grateful for his support. “I trust you will keep this information to yourself. My brother is an ABC undercover agent. That was Treig’s immediate supervisor.”
Shit! He silently cursed. “How bad?” Linc couldn’t even tell her that he’d seen Treig and knew what was going on. He needed to contact Michael and Danni.
Jess started moving toward the back door. “Treig was riding shotgun and has a broken leg, a concussion, and is in a coma. His partner is an FBI agent, and he has internal injuries and is also in a coma. The accident happened on Interstate 80, just outside of Marlton.” Jess hung up her vest and hurried into the kitchen. “I’ll call my mother, and we can be at the hospital in an hour. Can you stay with Edie?”
“Of course, I but think there is something else you need?”
“What?”
“A hug.” The tears she’d been holding back slid down her cheeks and she buried her face in his chest and sobbed. He rocked their clinging bodies back and forth and kissed the top of her head. “Treig will be fine,” he murmured.
When her tears were spent, she pulled slightly away and wiped the lingering wetness with the back of her hand. “I worry about him and these damned undercover assignments.” She took a step back. “I just realized, Treig doesn’t know you are alive.”
It was another lie he had to confess, but not now. “We’ll keep it between us. Let his body mend before we give him another shock. Call your mother. Edie and I will be fine. We’ll go to Jack’s Pizzeria for dinner, and I’ll make sure she gets her homework done.”
Jessie smiled up at him through watery eyes and brushed his lips with a tender kiss. “Thank you.”
The moment Jessie hurried up the stairs to change her clothes, Linc called Michael. It went directly to voice mail. He cursed in frustration and reached out to Russell.”
“I was just thinking about you,” Russell stated when he answered the phone.
“This is serious, and I’ve got to make it quick. I’m trying to get in touch with Michael and Danni. Nate was in an accident. Someone sabotaged the brakes on the Peterbuilt he was driving. He’s in the hospital at Stevensville with internal injuries and is in a coma.”