Sweet Tea and Secrets

by Nancy Naigle

  Jill caught the keys against her chest. “I do. Thanks.”

  One of Garrett’s smaller work trucks was parked out front. “Come on in.”

  “Can’t. I gotta’ run.”

  Billy pulled in the driveway in Elsie’s car. “We’re going to sample wedding cakes this morning.”

  “That sounds like fun.”

  Elsie’s smile faded. “It should be, but we’re kind of fighting about it.” She looked over her shoulder toward Billy sitting in her car, then turned back to Jill and rolled her eyes. “I want almond. He wants chocolate. How can you have a chocolate wedding cake?”

  “I went to a wedding last year that had the prettiest cake—white frosting with elegant flowers, but the cake was chocolate. It was to die for. That type of cake is the hottest thing going back in Savannah.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh yeah. All the rage.” Jill embellished the story a little, hoping she might soften Elsie’s edge. The cake was probably the only part of the whole wedding planning process Billy had an interest in.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” she said, looking impressed. “Maybe it could work.”

  “I wouldn’t rule it out.” Jill winked.

  Elsie skipped down the porch steps and jogged toward the car.

  “Thanks for bringing the truck,” Jill said as she waved to Billy.

  Jill tossed the keys from hand to hand, suddenly feeling as if she had wings. She straightened the house and put in a load of laundry. When she started the vacuum, Clyde took off running in the other direction. He was much bigger than the upright, but he hustled in a panic as if the machine might gobble him up. She took pity on him and let the big sissy dog outside.

  The sun was bright, so she hung the laundry out on the line. It would be dry before lunchtime.

  By noon, she’d cleaned every nook and cranny in the house. She decided to ride into town and shop for a car of her own since Carolanne was tied up. She knew she couldn’t drive Garrett’s company truck for long without affecting his business.

  As she drove, she kept thinking about the old Miller Farm he was working on. At the last second, she turned left on Nickel Creek Road instead of heading toward town.

  Tall hardwoods grew tight to the shoulder and shaded narrow Nickel Creek Road. Only a few crop fields interrupted the lush foliage, unlike the road to Pearl’s that was beginning to feel the burden of urban sprawl.

  Jill followed the winding road until the trees cleared, then slowed as she approached the recently paved driveway to the old Miller Farm. The strong smell of asphalt permeated the heavy summer air. She pulled the small truck next to Garrett’s.

  The house sat back off the road. Most houses in the area were built closer to the road because it was cheaper to run the electricity and get a good driveway surface. But this house was built before there was electricity. It was a single story which was unusual for a farm house of that era. Rumor had it that one of the young Miller boys had been born with a birth defect that kept him in leg braces. When Mr. Miller built this home, he’d kept it to one story so his son could get around more easily.

  Jill had driven by here many, many times over the years on the way to the lake, but she’d never been inside. Back then, the house had been dilapidated. Now the white lap-board was new, as was the bright red tin roof.

  As she approached the house she heard a radio blaring between the hums of a compressor inside the house.

  Jill knocked on the door, but only to be polite, knowing darn well that Garrett wouldn’t be able to hear her. She twisted the knob and peeked inside. The front room was huge, much bigger than she would have guessed. The open floor plan offered a view of the back acreage through a long wall of windows and French doors off the kitchen. There were already some animals roaming the back pastures.

  The rhythm of the nail gun led her to the back corner of the house. Garrett squatted over the molding along the floor, nailing and duck walking his way around the room.

  His face lit up as soon as he saw her.

  She wiggled her fingers in a wave. “You made this place sound so great. I couldn’t resist a visit.”

  Garrett balanced the nail gun on a sawhorse and turned off the noisy compressor. “I’m glad you did.”

  He placed his hands on his hips, looking proud. “Did you check out the front of the house?”

  “Yeah. It’s great. I love it.”

  “This room is for Nick’s wife. She’s a famous photographer or photojournalist or something. All this will be work surface and storage,” he explained. “That was a small bedroom, but they have me changing it over to a dark-room for her.”

  Jill crossed the room to the wide span of windows overlooking the backyard. “Look at the view from here. What a great place to work. The light is amazing.” She imagined working on a project in this space. “Are you going to put storage under the work surfaces over here?”

  “I don’t know yet. He left the design up to me. What are you thinking?”

  She dropped her purse in the corner and walked the room. With her finger pressed to her lips, she finally stopped in the middle of the room. “I think…”

  Garrett rested his hip on one of the sawhorses.

  Jill’s mind engaged. She loved this part of design. “…you could do, like, a French cleat so the shelf looks like it’s floating over here on this long wall under these windows and do an angled worktop that hinges on the back. That way she could keep supplies or paper underneath.” She walked to the other side of the room. “Then, on this inside wall, I’d run a flat surface and make it deep, at least thirty-two inches deep, for cutting mat board and framing. Oh, you know what else would be great?”

  “No. Tell me.” His eyes caressed her with softness. Seeing her like this was as if they’d rolled back time.

  “A floor to ceiling rack with thin cubbies. She could store frames and photo paper,” she said, nodding her head. “Yeah, that would be great.”

  “I like it. Not too hard to do either.”

  “Five minute job, right?”

  They’d had an inside joke that every project she came up with was just a five minute job, at least in her mind. She and Pearl had come up with great ideas and inspiration from those DIY shows they watched all the time. The tasks had never been as simple as they appeared, and Garrett always paid the price for her creativity. Not that he’d minded.

  “Yeah, right. I’ve missed those five minute jobs.” He removed his tape measure from the tool belt hanging low on his hips and scribbled some measurements on a scrap piece of wood.

  He walked by her, gave her a high five, then penciled a couple of marks on the window wall for the angled work surfaces.

  “Perfect.” She clapped her hands. “I would love to have a room like this.”

  “Then I’d say Nick Rolly ought to be pleased with it, too.”

  “Well, his wife is the one that will love it, but he’ll get the benefits I’m sure,” she said with a wink.

  “Want to see the rest of my handiwork?”

  “Absolutely.” She fell in step behind him. “Where’s your help?”

  “I’m doing this one alone. I get bored just managing the work teams, so I try to keep some of the fun projects for myself.”

  “It’s what you do best,” she said.

  He gave her a tour of the house, sharing what he knew about the Rolly family from Chaz. “Nick Rolly and his son, Jake, come up when his wife is out of town to check on the progress. Jake entertains himself the whole time they’re here. Never gets in the way. Cute one, that boy.”

  “Your clock tickin’?” she teased.

  “Maybe.”

  Jill ran her hands across the hand carved bar in the kitchen. “Did you do this?”

  He nodded proudly.

  “I recognize your work.” The craftsmanship was unmistakable. Jill enjoyed hearing him talk about his projects with so much enthusiasm. But she knew he was under a tight deadline, so she didn’t stay long.

  He walk
ed her out to the truck.

  Jill stopped mid-step and grabbed his arm. “I can’t believe I didn’t say thank you for loaning me the truck the first second I saw you. I feel like a teenager with her first set of wheels.”

  “I figured if I waited for you to ask for help, I’d wait forever.”

  “You know me, don’t you?”

  Garrett nodded. “That I do.”

  Jill opened the truck door and slid behind the wheel. “The house is fabulous, Garrett.”

  “Thanks. I’m really proud of how it’s coming together.” He looked toward the house and then back to her. “What are you going to do the rest of the day?”

  She hung her elbow out the window. “I’m going to run by the grocery store and then back to the house. I want to get some pruning done.”

  “Uh-oh,” Garrett said.

  “What?”

  “I know how you are with those pruning shears. I better hurry else the woods will be cut down to knee high by the time I get there.”

  “What a comedian.”

  “Hey, you come by it honestly. Pearl was the same way.”

  “Yeah. She was.” It was getting easier to think about Pearl. The memories were so special. “I’m not going to hold you up any longer. Thanks for the tour.”

  “Glad you came. I’ll be done here in another hour or so. How about, I pick you up? We’ll go to dinner.”

  “Deal.”

  He waved as she backed the truck out of the long driveway.

  ***

  When Jill got home, she got her pruning shears and started clipping her way around the outer edge of the garden in record time. She pruned the roses that had gotten long and wild already, snipping two perfect blooms for herself. They’d be a cheerful sight to wake up to in a tall bud vase on the bedside table. She held one of the full double-fringed blooms to her nose and inhaled the spicy scent. They’d be even more fragrant early in the day when the dew on the leaves was drying in the bright sun.

  She and Pearl had made it a habit to start their morning by smelling the roses. It was cliché, but it was true that it made them feel good and reminded you them perfect God’s creations were.

  “Miss me yet?”

  The voice from behind her sent goosebumps climbing up her spine.

  Jill spun around to see Bradley and dropped the two perfect roses at her feet. “What are you doing here?” She raised the purple pruning shears in defense. “Go,” she said, snipping the air. “Go away.”

  “What? Am I supposed to be afraid?” Bradley asked smugly. “What? Are you going to prune me with your little purple scissors?”

  “You can’t imagine how appealing that sounds.” She jabbed the pruners in his direction.

  “Mad?”

  “Furious. What the hell are you up to, and who are you?” She hated him for making her feel so stupid. “It was all a lie. Everything about you...about us...was a big fat lie.”

  “Oh, come on, baby. Was it that bad? You had some fun. Admit it.” He licked his lips.

  “You’re a liar and a cheat.”

  “It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it.”

  “You’ve done enough damage around here. Leave.”

  “I’m not leaving until I get what’s rightfully mine.”

  “I don’t have anything that belongs to you.”

  “You’ve made a huge mess of this, Jill.”

  “Me? You’re the one—”

  “No. I had it all planned out. If you had just packed everything up like I told you, this could already be over. No one would have gotten hurt. I’d have the Pacini Pearls.” He took a step closer. “Now, I can’t be responsible for what happens. You know way too much, and I won’t lose that treasure.”

  “If that treasure exists, and that’s a huge if, it doesn’t belong to you.”

  A cloud crossed overhead, dimming the bright sunshine and shadowing Bradley’s eyes.

  She needed to get to the house and call for help.

  “I’ve got to pee. I’ll be right back.” She breezed past him and walked to the house, praying he wouldn’t follow her.

  She didn’t look back until she got to the door, but he was already making strides in her direction. She willed herself to move slowly, trying to appear calm, but as soon as she crossed the threshold she ran as fast as her feet would take her to the phone in the hall. She fat-fingered the number trying to dial Scott Calvin. Finally, the phone rang on the other end, but went straight to the dispatcher.

  “Get a message to Scott Calvin. It’s Jill Clemmons. Tell him Bradley’s here. There’s a warrant out for him. Hurry.”

  Bradley walked in just as she hung up.

  He called down the hall, sounding impatient. “What are you doing?”

  She rounded the corner, pretending to wipe damp hands on her jeans. “I told you I had to pee.”

  He walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch. “Come sit with me and chat.” He patted the seat next to him.

  “No thanks.” She said, determined to prove he no longer had an effect on her.

  “Pearl lived too lean to have cashed in the Pacini Pearls. I figured they’d show up once she died if I was patient. My mother always said I reminded her of her uncle, John Carlo.”

  “You’re nothing like John Carlo Pacini.” Jill shot him a cold look.

  “How would you know?”

  “I’ve read his letters. He loved my grandmother, and he was sensitive and caring. When his treasures put Pearl in danger, he protected her. He was a good man.”

  “Believe what you want. He left her. We’re both treasure hunters of sorts, and we’re both very charming.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Bradley.”

  “When I learned of John Carlo’s fortune, I knew I could find it. It was meant to be mine.”

  “You’re just a common thief.”

  “Nothing common about it, my friend. I don’t stalk around in black tights robbing people. I get what I want because people feel compelled to hand it over to me. Only you don’t get it, do you?”

  “You’re a manipulator. You used me.”

  “And it was my pleasure, babe.”

  Disgust surged through her. “Screw you.”

  “And that was my pleasure, too. Believe me. So anyway, that was when I hooked up with you. You and that goody two shoes Malloy were easy enough to manipulate, you righteous do-gooders. You think everyone is as honest as you are.” Bradley tipped his head back with a smirk. “You southerners are so gullible.”

  “We’re trusting. Besides, look who’s talking. You’re from further south than me.”

  “No. Actually. I’m from Maine.”

  “Good lord.” She gestured in a sweeping motion with her arm. “Where does it end?”

  “You were so easy. A digital camera and a little Photoshop touch-up and you swallowed that bait like a hungry catfish,” he said in a mocking southern tone.

  “You’re despicable,” she spewed. “Garrett swore he’d never seen that blonde. You made me believe there was something going on.”

  “I didn’t make you believe anything. I simply made some artful suggestions.”

  “You’re disgusting.”

  “You don’t really appeal to me anymore, either.” He stood and approached her.

  She prayed Scott would show up soon.

  He pushed her toward the kitchen. “Walk.”

  She stumbled. “Stop it. That hurts.” She turned and met his cold stare without a flinch.

  He looked surprised by her resolve. “Go on. Move.”

  She stepped into the kitchen and turned to face him. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to give you one more chance. Hand over the Pacini Pearls.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or I’ll burn down the house.”

  “You won’t do that. You want your treasure.”

  “You said you don’t have it,” Bradley reminded her. “Either you give them to me and go on with your small-town life, or y
ou and the pearls go up in smoke.”

  Her thoughts flashed to the fire in the woods. He’d do it. Where are you Scott? She wished she’d called Garrett instead. She glanced at the clock on the stove. Garrett would be here to pick her up in just fifteen minutes. I can stall that long.

  Bradley’s voice was calm. His gaze steady. “I’m not going to let you have my treasure. I’d rather let you die with it than to lose it to you. I’ve waited too long. Those pearls are mine.”

  She spoke with quiet, yet definite firmness. “I don’t know what or where it is.”

  “Don’t play games with me.” He tapped the face of his gold and diamond watch. “Time’s a wasting. I’ve been patient, but I’m over that now.” As he admired his expensive timepiece, she mustered all the strength she had and landed her bent knee in his groin.

  He doubled over, then stumbled backwards.

  Jill shoved him as hard as she could and ran.

  He recovered quickly and ran after her, grabbing her by her hair and twisting it in his fist, stopping her in her tracks.

  Pain ripped through her, clear down her spine. She screamed, and lunged toward him to relieve the pressure of his grip.

  Bradley forced her against him. “Don’t want to play nice?” he choked out, his face red and sweating from the pain. “There are a couple good things about the country, babe. No one is going to hear you way the hell out here. You go right on and scream until your lungs bleed. It just turns me on anyway.”

  Bradley shoved her into one of the wooden kitchen chairs.

  The woven bottom scraped the back of her thighs as she landed hard. She kicked toward him, trying to land another blow, but her angle was wrong.

  He had a tight grip around both of her wrists in one of his large hands. “Quit kicking, damn it,” Bradley yelled.

  Jill wasn’t going to give in. She finally knew what she wanted and she had every intention of fighting for it. “Leave me alone, you freak,” she screamed.

  He knocked her to the ground.

  The wind knocked from her chest when her back hit the floor.

  In one quick move, he knelt on her arms to keep her from moving.

  She heard his belt clear loops in three loud snaps.

  She continued to kick and thrash against him, landing a few good kicks.