The Promise of Provence (Love in Provence Book 1)

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The Promise of Provence (Love in Provence Book 1) Page 11

by Patricia Sands


  “Good Lord,” Katherine whispered. “Who is doing this to you? This is beyond awful.”

  “I called the super right away. He was freaked that I was so freaked, and then he was freaked when I described it. I’m sure he didn’t appreciate being wakened, but he went all around the lobby and outside and couldn’t see anything. He offered to call the police, but . . .”

  “But the security video camera in the lobby must have picked up something,” Katherine suggested.

  “Ha! Remember, I’m not exactly in a luxury building. We don’t have one.”

  “I think you have to talk to the police. I really do.”

  They spoke for a few minutes more and Molly became calmer. “I don’t want to stay here. I’m just too spooked. Can I come to your place?”

  “I don’t want you to go out by yourself. Call a cab. What about the one you use to come home from the Note?”

  “Yup. I’ll call Fred. Shit, he just brought me home! He’ll come right to the lobby door.”

  “You buzz him right up to your apartment door. I don’t want you taking any chances!” Katherine warned.

  “Good idea,” Molly’s voice broke and faded to a whisper. “This is surreal. I can’t frickin’ believe it!”

  Katherine shook her head at the other end of the phone. “Me either . . . it’s like a Stephen King story. I’ll be watching out the window for you. Call me when you’re in the cab—and don’t open your door for anyone else.”

  A half hour later, they were sitting at Katherine’s kitchen table, each having a scotch and water, a rare event.

  “Christ! I needed this,” Molly said, taking a deep swig. The ice rattled in her glass as her hand trembled uncontrollably.

  “Ditto,” Katherine agreed, reaching over to guide Molly’s glass to the table. “What a night.”

  They sighed and gave each other a major eye roll. “You need to call the police tomorrow. This is serious.”

  “That’s what the super said too.”

  “First thing in the morning. Now let’s try to get some sleep—and make sure your phone is off.”

  Sunday morning Molly called the police nonemergency number. She was assured an officer would be over to her apartment in the afternoon between 2:00 and 5:00 p.m.

  “Okay,” Katherine suggested, “let’s go for a long walk after breakfast and then I’ll drive you home and spend the afternoon with you. Oh, but first, let me show you the home exchange inquiry I received yesterday! You won’t believe it!”

  They spent a good while at the computer as they looked up details about the area, and Molly shared Katherine’s excitement.

  “I can’t believe you’re going on your own, Kat! Are you sure about that?”

  Katherine nodded her head with so much assurance Molly had to laugh. “Fuckin’-A! I’m convinced! Good on you, girl! I mean it!”

  “Well, I just made the decision last evening, so let’s see how I feel as time goes by.”

  After finishing their breakfast of hot oatmeal and blueberries—part of Katherine’s new morning regimen—they walked through the nearby park along the Humber River.

  The rogue snow shower from the day before was forgotten as Sunday brought sunshine. Cyclists, dog walkers, and joggers joined the strollers, happy to feel that spring might be coming after all.

  The river was running quickly, with the usual warning signs posted to keep children back from its banks.

  Molly said she didn’t want to talk about the delivery incident until they got back to her place.

  “Really, I just want to enjoy the walk and the fresh air. Let’s talk some more about your exchange and what you’re going to do in la belle France. I’m so jealous!”

  Katherine was only too happy to oblige.

  It was close to one o’clock when they were driving back to Molly’s place, just a five-minute drive from Katherine’s house.

  “Let’s stop and pick up some Swiss Chalet chicken for lunch,” Molly suggested. “As usual, there’s not much in my fridge.”

  As they waited for their takeout order, Molly turned to the next person in line and handed him a coupon for a free Swiss Chalet dinner.

  The stranger looked at her in puzzlement as she explained. “This coupon is for you. Seriously! The next time you get a coupon in the mail, save it and give it to someone else. Just for the heck of it. It’s my good deed for the day.”

  The man smiled then, getting the message. “You gotta be kidding! Thanks! Very nice of you, and I will pay it forward,” he ended with a wink.

  Molly grinned back. “Right on!”

  “What was that all about?” Katherine asked as they walked out to the car.

  “I’ve been doing this for a few years now and it gives me such a buzz,” replied Molly. “It’s my random-act-of-kindness thingy.”

  “Huh?”

  “A few years ago I read something online about a woman in Pittsburgh who spent a year doing anonymous little acts of kindness for strangers. She gave them a note asking them to do the same thing for someone else, and the whole thing took off on the Internet. Now people are doing it all over the world, including me. But I’m not organized enough to have a little note, so I just pass the message on verbally.”

  “Moll, that’s so cool. So thoughtful. I want to do it too.”

  “Then you will,” Molly assured her. “It’s what we all should be doing.”

  Kat grinned. “You never cease to surprise me.”

  Once they were settled in Molly’s apartment, Katherine felt it was time to press her on what was going on. “Okay, let’s talk. Something is obviously going on in your life, and you don’t seem to want to discuss it.”

  “Kat, I have no idea what this is all about. I swear!”

  Feeling Molly’s answer was a bit too quick and her expression not convincing, Katherine pushed her a bit more. “You know you can tell me anything and it won’t go any further. You know that . . .”

  Molly quickly stood on the pretext of going to the kitchen to get some plates for their chicken sandwiches. At the same time there was a knock on her door.

  Startled, she looked at Kat with panic in her eyes. “Fuck! That scared me! Kat, will you see who it is? Nobody can just get in here, but maybe they walked in when someone else was coming in. Oh, man!”

  “I got it. Don’t worry.”

  The building superintendent was at the door, holding a large green garbage bag.

  “Is Ms. Malone here?” he asked, peering in.

  “Oh, hi, Mr. B. Yeah, I’m here. Sorry about waking you last night and being so freaked out,” Molly apologized.

  “No problem. That was some kind of weird, though. I went through the garbage after I left you last night and I managed to pick most of the stuff out.”

  “Omigawd, even the . . . ?”

  “Yeah, even the rodent. It’s all here in the bag and I really think you should call the cops about it.”

  Molly explained that they were waiting for the police to arrive.

  “Thanks, Mr. B. I’m so grateful for your help. Sorry again for this whole thing.”

  “Well, I’m sorry too,” he answered, “but actually it might be a good thing for the building, because I’m hoping the owners will put a security camera in the lobby now. You’ve no idea what a help it will be. All sorts of strange shit . . . oh, excuse me.”

  Katherine had to turn her back, pretending to pick something up, so he wouldn’t see her smirk at the idea of someone apologizing to Molly for swearing.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “lots of stuff happens around here, and a camera might just make the difference. If the cops want to talk to me, I’ll be around all day. Just give me a shout.”

  Molly was not reaching for the bag, so he gingerly placed it on the floor just inside her entrance hall and backed out, waving.

  Katherine picked up the bag quickly and put it out on the balcony. “Yuck. No need to have that inside,” she said, scrunching her face.

  Looking pale, Molly sat down. “I
’ve lost my appetite, but you go ahead and have your sandwich.”

  “Um, I think I’ll wait a bit too,” said Katherine. They turned on the television and feigned interest in a home makeover show.

  Katherine was trying to think of a way to get Molly to admit she was hiding something and wondering how she could help her.

  Molly was trying to figure out who could possibly know her secret.

  An hour later, two police officers arrived, a man and a woman. They were thorough and brief. Unfortunately they were also less than helpful. They said it appeared that someone had a grudge against Molly and was taking it to extremes. However, if she had no idea who it might be, there was little they could do, particularly without any video evidence. They suggested she speak to the phone company and keep a list of each number the caller used. It would be tedious, but each of those numbers could be blocked. They understood Molly’s reasons for not changing her number.

  The officers looked at the mess in the garbage bag, recoiling slightly at the increasing stench. Although they would give it to their lab, they did not hold out much hope of anything helpful coming of it.

  “We’re really sorry, Ms. Malone. You’ve had a terrible experience, and we will send this to our lab right away.”

  Handing her some brochures about personal safety, the officer continued, “Be very aware of who is around you and how they are behaving. This must be someone who knows you and has it in for you for some reason. Try and think about every aspect of your life right now and see if you can come up with anything.”

  Molly signed the complaint form they had filled out and promised to be vigilant.

  Leaving a card with her copy of the form, the female officer said, “Don’t hesitate to call this number if anything else happens. We are here to help.”

  Molly thanked the officers for their assistance and waited a moment after closing the door before filling the air with expletives.

  Katherine calmly let her blow off steam, while she went to the kitchen and took out the chicken sandwiches and fries that had sat forgotten. Molly followed her.

  “I’m going to give these a quick a zap in the microwave. We both need to eat. Then we can talk about this some more if you want to . . .”

  The more Molly thought about the whole thing, the angrier she became. As she set the table, she moaned, “Honestly, Kat! There’s no way I deserve this. I mean, no one does, but . . .”

  The timer buzzed. Molly took over putting the food on plates while Kat poured them each a glass of wine and they sat down to eat. “I think we can both use a calming drink.”

  Katherine decided she was going to put pressure on her friend. “Molly, something is going on that you don’t want anyone to know about. I’ve had inklings of it for a long time, but mostly in these last few months as we’ve spent more time together.”

  She held her hand up to silence her friend as Molly tried to disagree. “I can’t put my finger on it, but I see it on your face and hear it in your voice from time to time. I’ve chosen to ignore it, but now I’m worried about it.”

  Molly looked down at her hands and was silent. She felt Katherine’s eyes locked on her face.

  “I know I’m right.”

  Molly bit her lip and said nothing, continuing to look down.

  “Think about it, Moll. I only want to help you figure this out.”

  Nodding, Molly replied in a quiet voice, “Katski, you are my best friend—my only close friend, really—and we’ve become so much closer these past few months. You’re right. I do have a secret.”

  Katherine waited.

  “And it has to stay a secret, but I swear it’s not something that is hurting anybody!”

  “Are you having an affair with a married man?”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  “So your secret, mysterious lover is not attached to someone else?”

  “Absolutely not. Pass the ketchup, please.”

  With a shrug, Katherine changed the subject and they finished eating without addressing it again.

  As she got organized to leave, Kat hugged Molly. “Well, as the officers suggested, try to figure it out. I’m just a phone call away if you want anything. Do you want to stay at my place tonight?’

  Molly thanked her, saying she would be fine and that she wasn’t going to let some idiot turn her life upside down. “The shock is wearing off and now I’m just getting totally pissed off. You can bet I’m going to try to figure this out and get to the bottom of it. When I get my hands on whoever it is, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  13

  By noon on Monday morning, Katherine had confirmed her vacation dates with Dr. Henderson and Laura, the office manager. Everyone in the office shared her excitement as she described the home exchange details.

  All she had to do now was keep her eagerness in check for four weeks.

  Two weeks later, on Saturday evening, she invited Andrea and Terrence for dinner at her place before they went to hear Molly’s ten o’clock show at the Blue Note.

  May had become cool again in the middle of the month, as so often happened, and Katherine decided to cook a veal stew that was a favorite in her family. She hesitated at first when she recalled how James had loved the dish but then quickly put that thought out of her head. Reminders of James and their life together were taking far less of her energy now. It was what it was, she told herself. Divorce happens.

  There was still pain, to be sure. Wouldn’t there always be? she wondered.

  Dinner conversation centered on some surprise news about Andrea and Terrence’s oldest son.

  Andrew had recently turned twenty-five. After graduating from the agricultural college at the University of Guelph, he had gone to Kenya for six months with a volunteer group to help establish small farm co-ops. Since his return he was quickly becoming an important part of the family’s farming operation. His grandfather’s namesake, he had astonished them with a recent announcement.

  Andrea explained, “We gave Elisabeth’s story to the kids to read. It was such a difficult experience for all of us . . . just so painful . . .”

  “Kat, you know how deeply, deeply touched we all were,” Terrence continued. “If only we had known—”

  Andrea broke in, “I mean, we knew, but we didn’t.”

  “I understand,” Katherine said, “but they didn’t want us to know. They didn’t want us to carry that horror inside as we were growing up. I get where they were coming from.”

  Andrea and Terrence looked at each other, and he reached for her hand as Andrea spoke.

  “Andrew has decided he is going to their birthplace to honor his grandfather and your parents.”

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “My goodness,” Katherine whispered, “my goodness . . .”

  “We were stunned too,” Terrence said, dropping his head.

  “Moved,” Andrea added, her eyes welling.

  “It’s such a noble idea,” said Katherine, still shocked, “but let’s think about it. That area has changed completely, not just the town. I doubt there’s much left from their time, and we don’t even know exactly where they lived. I appreciate what he is feeling, but I wonder if he really should go.”

  “We’ve had the same conversation, Kat. He’s determined.”

  “He’s already begun planning, checking flights, accommodation.”

  They talked over all the pros and cons of Andrew’s plan. The truth of the matter, they all agreed, was that it wasn’t whether it made sense but rather how strongly Andrew felt about it.

  While Andrea and Terrence, at their insistence, cleared away the dinner dishes, Katherine finished getting ready to go out.

  Pausing, she leaned her head against her mother’s carpet and rubbed her hands gently across the soft texture of the silk. What would you think of all this, Anyu? Of my plans, of Andrew’s . . .

  Terrence dropped the women off in front of the Blue Note and went to park. He was reminded of how long it had been since he had visited th
is part of the city and how much the Queen Street East area had changed.

  The dearth of parking spots was just one example, he noted with mild frustration.

  As property in the area became pricier than anyone would ever have imagined, the run-down tenement houses were slowly being replaced with high-end condos and townhomes. However, homeless people still tucked themselves into protected corners, and the odd overserved individual stumbled about.

  In the area, a drop-in center was run by the Catholic church, providing food and shelter, although developers were strenuously campaigning to have it relocated. The Blue Note was a long-established, slightly tired bar that featured indie-type music during the week, switching to jazz every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night. Molly had been a fixture on stage Saturday and Sunday for over ten years, at times sharing the bill with other vocalists. Her followers were loyal and the bar was usually packed by 10:00 p.m.

  Terrence squinted as he entered and offered silent thanks for the city bylaw that no longer allowed smoking in bars. He remembered only too well the thick haze that used to hang in that room. Even so, it took a minute for his eyes to adjust. Wood-framed booths upholstered in comfortably broken-in black leather lined the sides of the room, with small round dark oak tables and chairs filling the center. Soft lighting from antique brass fixtures created a funky ambiance.

  Most tables sat groups of four or fewer, but by the end of the night a few boisterous clusters of six or eight typically pulled chairs together to party more effectively. The atmosphere lent itself to friendly intimacy. The decor was as it had been since the bar opened in 1959.

  Bing, the bartender, had been there forever and managed to control the balance in the room, cranking things up or cooling it down as needed. From behind the highly polished walnut bar nothing escaped him, and he made everyone feel they were longtime regulars from the minute they walked in.

  Molly was sitting with Katherine and Andrea and gave Terrence a warm hug as he drew up a chair to join them. They chatted for a few minutes more before the band returned to the stage and Molly was introduced.

  Voices dropped as the dusky tones of her voice filled the room. Her bluesy style was often compared to that of the great Peggy Lee, and as sultry as her sound was, her phrasing was magic. When Molly sang, Katherine always noticed how her entire body language transformed to suggest she was relaxed and happy.

 

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