“Not much. How was the concert?” he asked politely.
“Excellent! They are all so talented to be so young. But, you, my friend, are the surprise of the evening. You never ask me to call. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I just have a little favor to ask.”
“Well, I know you practically saved my life last year; which means I owe you one. But, I’m still not agreeing to anything ‘til I know what it is.”
Cole chortled. “I wouldn’t expect any different from you. The favor I’m asking is for you to go shopping with me to buy Brooke’s birthday present. She’s a teenage girl, and I don’t know anything about teenage girls. Come to think of it, I don’t know much about grown girls either.”
That made me laugh. “You know Brooke. At least, I hope you do.”
“Sure, I mean I have some idea of what she likes. But, I’d really like a woman’s perspective. Actually, a mother’s perspective. Would you mind?”
“Not at all. When were you thinking of shopping?”
“Saturday afternoon. She’ll be with her mom.”
“Yes! That’ll give me an excuse to bow out of that dumb singles meeting.”
“You hate singles meetings.”
“Exactly! But, the Gaggle are really putting on the pressure. There’s some new guy at the church they think I should meet.”
“Oh! If only he were a fireman,” Cole teased.
“Ugh! There you go again. I was not ogling the firefighters.”
“Sure, whatever,” he said with a snicker.
“I wasn’t! There was this one guy that looked really familiar—“
“One guy in particular?”
“Stop it! I’m serious. This one guy looked familiar, and I finally saw him in better light and recognized him. Austin Dugray, a former client; we represented him in a custody case.”
“I don’t recall the name.”
“It was just before I had to take a leave of absence to deal with Tommy and his behaviors.”
“Oh. That’s all kind of blur. Lots happened then.”
“Yeah. Well, anyway, I waved to him once I recognized him, but he just turned and walked away.”
“He probably didn’t recognize you. Or, he was just busy. You know, fire to put out and all.”
“I know, mister smarty pants. He was busy, I’m sure. But, that was the only reason I was lost in thought when the chief was talking. I was trying to place a familiar face.”
“That’s the story you’re stickin’ to?” Cole kept teasing.
“Aren’t you trying to get a favor from me?”
“Oh, right. Nor more hassle from me. Promise. I’ll see you Saturday afternoon. Text you the details. ‘Night.”
Finally, it was Friday and the kids and I had plans after school and work. We’d make our favorite appetizers: sausage balls, cheese quesadillas, apple slices with caramel dip, and raw veggies with ranch dressing. Carrie would make a big pitcher of sweet tea. Tommy would pull out blankets and pillows and have them waiting for us on the couch. Joseph would get the movie ready to play. We had chosen one of our absolute favorites, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape. Sure, it was a tear-jerker, but it reminded us so much of Tommy (who would watch the opening title sequence before happily retreating to his room with his SpongeBob DVD). Joseph and Carrie and I loved this movie, and we agreed Leonardo DiCaprio should’ve won an Oscar for it.
The kids arrived home, dropped their school bags by the front door, kicked off their shoes and joined me in the kitchen. Together we made our appetizer supper in record time. We piled onto the couch with our plates and glasses of iced tea and settled in for movie night. Just as I predicted, Tommy ate his food as the movie began, and as soon as he took his last bite, he went to his room. It was a solid ten minutes of togetherness with the elusive one; so I was happy. He had spent the whole day being around classmates and teachers. I totally understood his need to be alone for a while.
Joseph passed me the box of tissues, and Carrie laid her head on my shoulder. No matter how many times we watched this film, it still had “all the feels,” as the kids say. My cell phone started ringing just as the end credits appeared on screen. It was Mr. Baker; so I felt obligated to answer.
“Hey, boss,” I answered.
“Hello, Charlotte. I’m sorry to disturb your evening.”
“That’s alright. Nothing’s on fire is it?” I joked.
“No, but I am calling about the office fire,” he replied without a hint of laughter. I made a mental note to wait a while on any fire jokes.
“Did they find what started it?”
“Sort of. It appears there was something wrong with the wiring in the back storage room. The thing is, I had that wiring done just two months ago. It’s brand new!”
“It sure is! When we moved things around we realized we needed a couple more outlets and you had that electrical company put them in for us. They must’ve done something wrong.”
“Or something they used was faulty. I’ve put in a call to their office. They’re very reputable, and came with references. I thought I had chosen wisely.”
“Like you said, maybe it was one of the parts they used. Could be a manufacturing defect or something. Still, it’s terrible. And I know this is all a pain in the neck.”
“We’ll manage. I might need you to meet one of the electricians at the office next week. I’ll be in court a few days. Do you mind?”
“No, of course not. Not a problem. Just let me know when.”
I hung up the phone and must’ve looked worried.
“Everything alright?” Carrie asked, a wet dish and the kitchen towel in her hands.
“Yeah. Mr. Baker was telling me they found some bad wiring that caused the fire at the office.”
“That’s scary. It could’ve happened while you were at work!” Joseph lamented.
“I know. And I almost went to the office that night to get some files, but at the last minute changed my mind.”
“Wow. That was a God thing, Mom,” Carrie told me.
I got chills. “I think you’re right.”
After a leisurely Saturday morning, getting up around eight and drinking an entire cup of coffee while it was still hot; I met Cole at Melbourne Square Mall to find a gift for the birthday girl.
“You’re a life saver, really. I’m so glad you’re helping me out here,” Cole said, handing me a tiny gift bag.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, just a little something I picked up for ya to say thanks.”
Inside the little, blue bag was an adorable flamingo figurine.
“Cole, it’s wonderful! Thank you! I do love flamingos.”
He smiled, gave me a nod and asked which way to go. I pointed him towards Bath and Body Works.
“Soap?” he asked, confused.
“Not just soap. Shower gel, bubble bath, lotion, body sprays. It’s all wonderful. Even the little anti-bacterial things are cute. Look!” I held up a plastic lady bug with a bottle of hand sanitizer stuffed inside.
“Girls like this?”
“Yes, Cole. Girls love this! We can pick out a few things, like a set of a particular scent. And, you can add a gift card to it so she can come shop on her own, too.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so. She’ll love it. She’s turning sixteen, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, how about a set of the bath stuff, a candle, and a gift card. I should’ve asked this already. How much are you wanting to spend?”
“Let’s keep it under fifty bucks. Her mom and I are getting her a car. Nothing fancy. It’s used. But, I wanted her to have stuff to open, too.”
“That’s great, Cole. She’ll be thrilled.”
“I hope so. Grab that lady bug thing. It’s kinda cute,” he confessed.
I laughed and we went searching for the sugar cookie scented stuff.
I woke up Sunday morning dreading going to church. Not because I didn’t want to go to the service, but because I
knew the Gaggle would be anxiously awaiting to introduce me to the new guy. Why had I said anything but an absolute “no way” to their idea? Saying “maybe” was like waving a flag of surrender to their evil plan. Okay, so it wasn’t evil. But, they were working overtime to get me out on a date.
After trying on no less than five outfits, I settled on a green dress that always garnered me compliments. Redheads look good in green; or so I’ve been told. Carrie gave me a thumbs up, Joseph didn’t notice, and Tommy stopped pacing and looked at me funny.
“Maymay…is it St. Patrick’s Day already?” He asked with confusion.
“No, bud. Not even close.” I responded.
It was gonna be a long day.
We arrived at church five minutes before service started. I had hoped this meant the Gaggle would already be in their seats, but alas they were huddled together by the door.
“There you are! We were afraid you weren’t coming,” Mammaw Sellers greeted me, opening the door for me to walk inside.
“Don’t you look lovely. Green is your color,” added Granny.
“Thank you.”
“Now, we’re gonna introduce you two real quick before church starts,” Momma Pat informed me.
“Better hurry. I see the musicians getting’ up on the platform,” warned Little Momma, waving her hands at us to move along.
Off we went, all five of us like a school of fish navigating across the lobby. They practically pushed me towards this guy; who stood there nervously wringing his hands and forcing a smile. I had to admit the Gaggle didn’t exaggerate his good looks. He was handsome, even in an usher’s sports coat. He had sandy blonde hair with a touch of gray and sparkling blue eyes. And even his forced smile was nice.
“Charlotte, this is Ian.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, extending my hand.
“Delighted to meet you,” he replied in the dreamiest British accent. He shook my hand and I regretted my sweaty palms.
“The music’s startin’. We’d better get our seats,” Little Momma instructed.
“Could we talk after the service?” Ian asked me.
“Sure. I’ll meet you back here,” I said with a most ridiculous grin on my face.
I found a seat towards the back, just in case I had to leave to rescue a Sunday school teacher from an out-of-sorts Tommy. It was a rare occasion these days, but I liked to be prepared. All through the service I was restless, and it wasn’t because I was worried about Tommy. Ian seemed really nice, and I found myself not minding the idea of meeting him for coffee. Who was I? What was happening? Prayer. That was it. I needed prayer. When they asked the congregation to raise their hands for unspoken prayer requests, mine was the first one up.
CHAPTER FOUR
MR. Baker asked me and Cole to his house Monday to help prep him for court the following day. He wanted to review my research into possible relatives of the child being adopted; none found. Cole had worked on the adoptive parents’ character references and financials, and had typed up a summary for Mr. Baker so he could reference the information in a pinch.
The three of us sat at his dining room table with papers spread and pens in hand, working to have everything organized. Mrs. Baker offered to whip up some lunch, and the next thing we knew, we were served hot pressed Cuban sandwiches with a delicious broccoli salad that contained bacon, pecans and raisins.
“This is amazing,” I complimented Janet.
“It really is,” added Cole, mid-swallow. He almost choked. “Best lunch I’ve ever had.”
Each of practically licked our plates clean. Janet cleared the dishes from the table while we returned to working. I picked up a stack of files that had been sitting on the far end untouched.
“What are these?”
“Files that I had in my briefcase for my meeting with Child and Family Services. Some of those clients still have open cases.”
I flipped through the files and recognized a name.
“That’s weird,” I commented.
“What’s weird?” asked Cole.
“This one is the Dugray file. Austin Dugray. The guy I saw at the office the night of the fire.”
“The fireman?”
“Yeah. The one I recognized. But, he ignored me.”
“Austin Dugray was at the fire? Are you sure?” Mr. Baker questioned.
“Positive.”
“I didn’t realize he was a fireman. Of course some of those crews were from volunteer stations. Maybe he volunteers,” Mr. Baker surmised.
“Charlotte is upset he didn’t notice her,” Cole teased.
“I am not. Like you said, he was probably busy and it was pretty dark even with the street lights.”
“Nice man…Mr. Dugray. It was a shame we didn’t win that case.”
“We didn’t? That was around the time I had to leave for Tommy.”
“Oh, right. No, that one went horribly wrong. He got so worked up about going to court for custody of his son that he went out drinking the night before. Got pulled over for a D.U.I. which of course ruined his chances of winning custody. Such a shame.”
“Wow, that’s terrible. Last I knew about his case, it looked like he’d win.”
Mr. Baker shook his head. “Well, those can all be filed away now. Over and done. Shall we move on to your research, Charlotte?”
I handed my boss the information he requested, but my mind had drifted away from the task at hand. Something about this Dugray case caused my instincts to stir. My gut told me this was more than mere coincidence.
Tuesday morning was, well…no adjective could describe it sufficiently. First, Joseph suddenly remembered a quiz in his Art class and was reading the vocabulary list aloud with the speed of an auctioneer.
“Variety: refers to the relative variety of form, scale, value, color, and texture in a work of art or design. Balance: refers to the visual 'weight' of a composition—“
“Joseph, a little quieter please. I can’t hear myself think,” I pleaded.
While Joseph continued his art oration, Carrie was tuning her cello, and Tommy began his holiday fixation with a new idea for Valentine’s Day.
“And so on Valentine’s morning, Lots-a-heart the Elephant brings Valentine’s and toys to good boys and girls—“
“What? No. There’s no Valentine’s Day elephant,” I told him.
“No elephant? Okay, but I need to go shop for a gift for the red-headed girl.”
“Tommy, honey, the red-headed girl is from Charlie Brown. It’s not even February yet. Can we please wait on the holiday talk?”
Finally, I got them all out the door and into the neighbor’s car for carpool; except for Tommy, who was put on the bus. Then, I went back inside to find my misplaced cup of coffee. I found it in the microwave. Dumping it out, I brewed myself a fresh chai latte and put some essential oils in the diffuser to help me focus. Finally, some peace and quiet in which to work.
As I walked towards my bedroom, I noticed one of Tommy’s VHS tapes on the couch. I put it in its case and checked the distributor logo. It was Sony Wonder. So, I opened the cabinet on the entertainment center and put the tape in the appropriate Sony section. That was just one way in which autism affected Tommy. He had a very particular and peculiar method for organizing.
With that done, I proceeded to my desk, but noticed a dirty sock on my bedroom floor. It had obviously fallen out of the laundry basket on my way to the garage. So, I picked up the sock and took it to the garage where I decided I should go ahead and start a load of laundry. Once I got that going, I walked back into the house and saw a cup by the kitchen sink. This made me think that I should also run the dishwasher. Three other random chores and thirty minutes later, I finally sat down at my desk to work.
Of course when I sat down, my phone buzzed with a text. It was my best friend Su. I had already told her about meeting Ian and how I didn’t get to meet him after church because Tommy had spilled his drink during snack and wanted out of his wet clothes. Needless to say, we quickly le
ft for home without a word to anyone.
Did you get in touch with Ian? Are you going to meet up?
My reply text informed Su that the Gaggle had come to my rescue and given Ian my cell number. We had texted and arranged to have coffee Wednesday. She texted back two rows of emojis. You know, hearts, smiley face with heart eyes, etc. I asked her how school was going and she sent me emojis of a chocolate bar and a wine glass. ‘Nuff said. She was stressed. I jotted down a note to send her a little care package soon.
Finally, I got to work on actual work. Amidst my online research for our next pending case, I checked the work history of our client’s ex-wife; and I suddenly felt an internal nudge to look into Austin Dugray’s occupations. I mean, if he was a fireman, even volunteer, it would show up somewhere. And, why not check it out? If there was one thing I had learned over the years, it was to trust my intuition.
I perused the websites and databanks that, as a professional in research for a law firm, gave me access to information not privy to just anyone. Sure enough, I found Mr. Dugray’s current occupation…electrician.
Immediately, I texted Cole with my newfound info…
Just discovered Dugray is an electrician. Isn’t that weird? We should investigate!
Within seconds, I received his response…
Dear Lord, woman, NO
Before I even had time to argue my point, he followed with…
Ok it’s a bit weird. How do we look into it?
I grinned with satisfaction.
Wednesday morning was my meet-up for coffee with Ian followed by meeting Cole for lunch and a firehouse hunt. The plan was to find the firehouse where Dugray worked; if he did indeed work at one. It was still plausible that he was a volunteer even though I’d found no paperwork to prove it, but I had my doubts. Suspicion gnawed at me. Cole called it being nosy. I called it having an investigative nature.
Ian and I met at Indian River Coffee Company where I ordered a cup of their Chocolate Almond coffee with room for cream. We sat at a table amidst a handful of customers, all sipping their coffee and staring at their phones.
Frappes, Flamingos, and a Fireman (A Charlotte Ritter Mystery Book 2) Page 3