The Best Is Yet to Be

by Eve Fisher

  “I don’t like the sound of this,” Skip said.

  “I might have to charge you extra if you’uns is gonna play them things early in the morning,” Bo said, wiping his eyes.

  “Then we’ll charge you back for the workout we just gave you,” Joe rallied.

  “You got me there,” Bo replied. “Think your truck’s ready yet?”

  “They said twelve.” Joe checked his watch. “It’s twelve thirty now.”

  Paul gasped. “Oh no! I’m supposed meet Kate for lunch.” He hurriedly said good-bye to the others, then dashed across the street. He slid into the diner and looked around for Kate. She wasn’t there.

  “LuAnne,” he said, “Have you seen Kate?”

  “Not for a while,” LuAnne replied, looking, Paul thought, surprisingly worried. “She ran home, saying she’d be just a minute, and she hasn’t gotten back yet. But she said to tell you she’d be back here for lunch.”

  “Okay,” Paul said. “I’ll just wait.”

  KATE DROVE HOME from the diner in a flurry of excitement. At last, one mystery would be solved! She just hoped it wasn’t Tom Matthews’ handwriting on those checks. LuAnne would be devastated. She was practically a wreck as it was, and who could blame her? Kate pulled into the garage, and as she was walking to the door, she heard the telephone ringing. She unlocked the door as quickly as she could and ran to the kitchen, hoping that whoever it was would be worth the hurry, and not just another telemarketer.

  She pounced on the telephone, dropping her purse on the counter, where it promptly popped open, spilling its contents everywhere. “Hello?”

  “Hello,” a woman replied. “Is this Kate Hanlon?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I’m Jordan Harnett.”

  Kate sat down in a kitchen chair, her heart pounding. “Oh, thank goodness. I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

  “So I gathered from my answering machine. I’ve been out of town. You wanted to ask me about Lawson Investments? Do you have money with them?”

  “No,” Kate said. “But I’m worried about someone else. An elderly lady. I read the article about the settlement on the Asheville Citizen-Times Web site, and I hoped you wouldn’t mind answering some questions.”

  “You want to know what happened,” Jordan said flatly. “Well, it’s quite simple, really. My grandfather was in a nursing home. He’d invested his money with Junius Lawson and—”

  “Excuse me,” Kate interrupted. “Did you say Junius Lawson? What about his son, Matt?”

  “Oh, he came into the firm later. No, Junius was the man my grandfather knew at the beginning.”

  “So Junius was handling your father’s estate.”

  “Well . . .” Jordan’s voice was hesitant. “At the end, I can’t really say. You see, I didn’t find out what was going on until after my grandfather died. When the will was probated, I contacted the investment firm and found out that all the money was gone. Well, that didn’t sound right to me, so I asked for an accounting, and that was mighty hard to get, let me tell you. They basically gave me the runaround, until I told them I’d have the law on them if they didn’t give me the paperwork.”

  “And did they?”

  “Yes, but it still seemed fishy. I took it to another accountant to look over, and he said it wasn’t right. There were a series of commodity trading accounts, whatever those are, that ended up in some kind of estate fund that Lawson Investments controlled. I didn’t understand half of what he said, to be honest. I just knew that the firm stole my grandfather’s money. So I asked for the money back, and when they declined, I filed suit.”

  “But it didn’t go to trial,” Kate said.

  “No, they settled it out of court. I mean, there was enough scandal going on without that. I’m sure their clients were leaving in droves. As it was, they eventually closed down. Are they back in operation?”

  “No,” Kate said. “But there is a question of private investing.”

  “Oh no.”

  Kate could hear Jordan sigh over the telephone.

  “I honestly don’t know what to say. Be careful. I never trusted Junius Lawson; he was a little too smooth for me. But then it was Matt Lawson who offered the settlement and signed the check. I don’t know who he was trying to protect, his father or himself or both, and frankly, I didn’t care as long as the check was good. I just took the money. I figured I was lucky to get it, and it saved on court costs.”

  “I see.”

  “Sorry I can’t help you more.”

  “No, you’ve been a great help,” Kate assured her. “Thank you for calling me back.”

  “No problem. Let me know if there’s any other information I can give you.”

  “Oh,” Kate said, “I do have one other question. Those trading accounts—were any of them under the name John Matthews?”

  There was silence, then Jordan said, “It does sound familiar. Maybe the name of a cosignatory on something...I honestly can’t remember. I’m sorry,” Jordan said. “Anything else?”

  “No,” Kate said. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kate hung up the telephone and sighed. It was obvious that at least one of the Lawsons had been a crook, but which one? Junius had said Matt, Matt wasn’t saying anything, and Jordan sounded like she didn’t know. But meanwhile, LuAnne was anxiously waiting for her to return, and depending on the outcome of the signature comparison, the whole speculation about the Lawsons could be moot.

  Kate went into the studio, pulled out the folder she’d compiled on the Bixby-house affair, and took out the copy of the canceled check she’d gotten from Emma. She looked at that distinctive signature, “John Matthews,” then brought it back into the kitchen and put it, along with Amanda’s cards, back in her purse.

  The telephone rang again, making Kate jump. “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hello, Kate?”

  “Amanda?” Kate said, incredulously. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at the hospital,” she said, “but the doctor says I can come home today.”

  “Today?” Kate exclaimed, winded. Too much was happening at the same time.

  “Yes,” Amanda said. “And I was wondering if perhaps you or your husband could come pick me up?”

  “Of course. How wonderful. Paul would be happy to come get you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Kate said. “I’ll send him right up. He should be down at the diner. He’ll be up soon. We’re looking forward to having you back.”

  Kate hung up the phone, gathered everything together again, and raced back out to her car. She had to tell Paul to get Amanda, she had to compare signatures with LuAnne, and she had to let everyone know that Amanda was coming home.

  Kate drove to the diner, parked her car, and hurried inside. Paul was still there, finishing a plate of popcorn shrimp. LuAnne looked at her, wide eyed, as Kate raced to her.

  “I’ve got it, LuAnne!” She pulled the papers out of her purse, then went over to Paul’s table and said breathlessly, “I just got a call from Amanda. She’s getting out of the hospital this afternoon. I told her you’d go get her.”

  “How wonderful,” Paul said. “I’d be happy to get her. But sit down and catch your breath, Kate. You look like you’ve been running all over town.”

  “I have,” she said, then went back over to LuAnne and said, “Now, show me the registration.”

  LuAnne pulled it out of her apron pocket. “Here.”

  Kate pulled out the check copy, and the two women bent over them. The signatures weren’t even close; the handwriting was entirely different. Kate put her arm around LuAnne and hugged her, saying, “It’s all right.”

  Tears rolled down LuAnne’s cheeks. “Oh, thank God,” she said. “Thank God.”

  “Amen,” Kate agreed. “I’m so glad. Now, you show that registration to Emma when she gets back and make her compare it to her check copies, okay?”

  “Oh yes, I will
,” LuAnne assured her, wiping her eyes. “What a wonderful day this has turned out to be.”

  Paul came up and paid his bill. “That was delicious, LuAnne. I’m so glad about the signatures. I’ve got to get going now. Will you make sure my wife gets something to eat?”

  “I sure will,” LuAnne said. “And it’ll be on me.”

  As Paul was leaving, he heard her say to Kate, “Now you just sit down and tell me what you want for lunch.”

  “I don’t have time,” Kate said. “I should head over to Amanda’s right now to make sure everything is ready for her to come home.”

  “Yes, you do,” LuAnne replied. “It’s one o’clock, and you haven’t had a thing to eat yet.”

  Kate suddenly felt faint and sat down on a stool. “Well, maybe a sandwich,” she said.

  “Grilled cheese,” LuAnne said stoutly. “Extra bacon.”

  Kate nodded her agreement.

  “And a slice of rhubarb pie,” LuAnne added, smiling.

  HALF AN HOUR LATER, Kate was standing at Amanda’s, holding the door open for Dot Bagley as she walked in under a flotilla of balloons. Behind her was Martha Sinclair, carrying a vase of daisies.

  “I picked these up from Hamilton Road Florist,” Martha said. “To welcome her home. I’m sure there’ll be lots more coming later on. I always think daisies are so cheerful, don’t you?”

  “They’re some of my favorites,” Kate replied.

  Dot took the balloons into the living room and looked around for something to tie them to. Finally she just tied them to the leg of the coffee table.

  “Good,” Martha said. “That way they won’t be up on the ceiling. Lots of folks said they would be bringing meals by for Amanda.”

  “Yes,” Kate said. “And Loretta Sweet said she was going to make a batch of cream puffs.”

  Dot moaned with delight. “Oh, what heaven! Have you ever had those?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “They’re light as air,” Dot continued. “We’ve been trying to get Loretta to put them on the menu for years, but she won’t.”

  “She’d never have time to make anything else if she did,” Martha said, her eyes glazing over at the thought.

  There was a knock at the door, and Kate held it open for Emma Blount, who was carrying a white cake box.

  “I heard you went to Pine Ridge this morning,” Kate said, trying to be subtle about her concern for Emma’s health. “Is everything okay?”

  “The doctor says everything will be fine.” Emma sighed, then lifted the cake box toward Kate. “Is there room in the freezer?”

  “I believe so. I’ll get the door for you,” Kate said, following Emma.

  The cake just fit into the freezer compartment after Kate took out the ice-cube trays and rearranged some bags of frozen vegetables. She wasn’t sure what Amanda would do with an entire ice-cream cake, but she knew everyone was contributing what they could on such short notice to show Amanda that she was loved.

  “Perfect,” Emma said.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Renee Lambert called from the doorway.

  Renee was wearing pink from head to toe, including pink-satin high heels. A massive rhinestone brooch dangled from her white pique collar, bracelets jangled on her arms, and her freshly manicured fingers were covered with rings.

  “Hi, Renee,” Martha called.

  Renee sat down in the most comfortable armchair, pulling Kisses out of her shoulder bag and onto her lap. From the way she settled in, Kate felt sure that Renee was planning on staying right there until Amanda arrived. Kisses stretched out his head and snuffled at a balloon that bounced toward him.

  “Oh, you see the balloons, don’t you, my Little Umpkins? You like balloons, don’t you?” Renee pulled a balloon out of the bunch and was waving it in front of Kisses’ nose. Kisses sneezed, then barked once. “That’s right. That’s right, my Little Umpkins.” Renee twirled the balloon again, and Kisses got up and barked again, his tail wagging, his eyes bright. “By the way,” Renee said, “There’s a ton of food out in my car, if someone would go get it.”

  “Sure,” Martha said. “Come on, Dot.” Emma, who didn’t like small dogs, rolled her eyes and went over to the bookcase, where she started looking through the books and magazines.

  “Would you like me to come?” Kate asked but stopped as Emma reached out and caught Kate’s elbow.

  “Look at this!” Emma hissed. Her face had turned red, and her hand, which was holding an old, small green book, was trembling with anger.

  “What is it?” Kate asked.

  “Wordsworth!” Emma said emphatically. “Remember? I told you about the book of poetry I used to read? The one that was missing from Mama’s?”

  “Oh my goodness. Is that it?” Kate asked.

  “It is indeed.” Emma opened the book and showed Kate the frontispiece. Written in pale ink with old-fashioned handwriting was “Icey Thompson, 1887.” “That’s my great-aunt Icey. It was her book, and she gave it to Mama.”

  Martha walked back inside carrying a small Tupperware container.

  “That’s ham,” Renee said.

  “Where did you find it?” Kate asked Emma.

  Behind her came Dot with another Tupperware container. “And rhubarb cobbler,” Renee said.

  “Any more?” Kate asked as Dot walked past her on her way to the kitchen. Martha rolled her eyes and shook her head silently.

  “No, that’s it,” Renee said, watching Kisses run around the room, chasing the balloon.

  “It was right here in this bookcase,” Emma continued, in a low voice, “with these other old books. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was Mama’s. But how did it get here?” She looked perplexed.

  Kate took the book and leafed through it. What if Amanda is guilty of the petty thefts after all? Stuck in between the pages, at “Lucy Gray,” was a note. Kate opened the note and read what appeared to be the beginning of a poem, written on plain paper in a bold, black handwriting that looked awfully familiar to Kate: “A violet by a mossy stone...” The same handwriting...but no signature.

  “You don’t think that Amanda . . . ?” Emma let her voice trail off.

  Kate shook her head, ruffling through the pages of the book, hoping to find something else. “I think the same person who stole this from your mother also stole her money.” Kate pointed. “Look at the handwriting.”

  “Oh,” Emma said, squinting at the page.

  “And that’s not Amanda’s.” Kate glanced at Emma and asked, “By the way, did Lu—”

  “Yes,” Emma interrupted hastily. “LuAnne showed me the registration,” she whispered. “I...I apologized. I don’t know—”

  “What are you two whispering about over there?” Renee demanded.

  Kate held up the poetry book. “Wordsworth, Renee. Wonderful poetry. Here, listen.” Kate began to read “Lucy Gray,” but a tremendous bang interrupted her and startled everyone. Kisses barked furiously at the spot where a balloon had been, then he began looking for it.

  “Oh, isn’t he precious!” Renee cried. “Come here, my Little Umpkins! Come to Mama!”

  Martha shook her head as Kate laid the green book on the hall table.

  “Well, I’ve got to run back to the shop,” Emma announced. “Anne’s watching things, but the kids will be out of school any minute, and things will be hopping.”

  “Thanks for the cake,” Kate said.

  “My pleasure,” Emma replied. “And I’ll drop by later tonight with some chicken.”

  “Now, you know a heart patient has no business eating fried chicken,” Renee said. Kisses had stopped looking for the balloon and was snuffling at Kate’s feet. “Come here, my Little Umpkins!”

  “Chicken salad,” Emma said.

  “Oh well.” Kisses waddled over to Renee, who reached down and pulled the Chihuahua up into her arms. “All white meat, I hope?”

  “Of course,” Emma said, shaking her head. “See y’all later.”

  “I’ve never gotten over that time someone put
dark meat in the chicken salad,” Renee said as Emma scooted out the door.

  “I’ve got red beans and rice in the Crock-Pot to bring over later,” Dot said.

  “And I’m going to make a sweet-potato casserole,” Martha added.

  “Both sound wonderful,” Kate said.

  A car door slammed outside, and Renee craned her head, trying to see who it was.

  “It’s Sam Gorman,” Martha said.

  Renee sniffed.

  “And he’s got Skip Spencer with him.”

  “Skip!” Renee exclaimed. “What on earth is he doing with that tomfool deputy?”

  “They’re pretty friendly,” Kate said without mentioning the Copper Mill Players. That was still a deep, dark secret as far as the community and the summer concert series went. She wondered, hoped, that now that Emma had apologized, the Beauty Shop Quartet would be back on track.

  “I don’t see why anybody talks to that young whippersnapper,” Renee complained. “After he arrested me for picking Joe Tucker’s pocket, when all I was trying to do was straighten the poor man’s handkerchief.” She quivered with indignation.

  “That was a long time ago, Renee,” Martha reminded her.

  “I’ll never get over the humiliation. I don’t know how he can look me in the face.”

  “Well, he won’t have to try,” Martha added. “He’s driving off. I think he just gave something to Sam.”

  Kate smiled as Sam Gorman came in, carrying flowers and a box of candy.

  “Hello ladies,” he said. “Amanda’s not home yet?”

  “Not yet,” Kate replied. “What lovely flowers.”

  Sam smiled. “Just a little something for a beautiful lady. And candy from the sheriff and his deputies.”

  “Well, that was awfully sweet of them,” Renee said as if she were the hostess and the recipient. “I’m surprised there aren’t more flowers here yet.”

  “Well, word just got out,” Dot said.

  “And I’m sure Junius will be here soon with his,” Martha said.

  Renee flushed and gave Martha a deadly look.

  “I mean,” Martha added, suddenly confused, “I’m sure a lot of people will be by later on.”

  But now Kate understood why Renee was parked on that chair like a queen bee. She was waiting all right, but not for Amanda.