Connections

by Beth Urich

  “Sorry to come unannounced, but I had some questions for you. Is this a good time?”

  The phone rang and he swiveled on one hip to reach across the desk. He pressed the hands-free button to answer. “Allen.”

  “Yo, Larry. We need to talk,” the man’s voice on the speaker shouted.

  Allen picked up the receiver. “Later. Yes, that’s right.” He punched the disconnect key and turned toward Kate. “Sorry. Go ahead with your questions.”

  Kate stepped to the window and peeked through the dirty glass. “Quite a project. Five stories seems a bit ambitious for Branson.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know we have 70 percent of it leased.”

  “How much is for Fortune Enterprises?”

  He studied her eyes, his hands pressed against the table. “Can we get to the real questions? They’re waiting for me inside.”

  She consulted her steno pad—although it wasn’t necessary—then returned Allen’s stare. “I’m working on an article about the rapid growth of Branson since the 60 Minutes piece almost three years ago.”

  “Wow, that’s original.”

  His sarcasm did not impress or slow her down.

  “As one of the major players in construction projects in Taney County, Fortune Enterprises will no doubt lead the way in future developments. Can you share with me what you have planned going forward?”

  “We have five current projects besides this one. Two of them are just beginning and are almost as ambitious as this office complex. We’ll be busy this and next year.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of those projects since they’ve been discussed by the Planning and Zoning Commission. What do you have in mind for the future, say five or ten years from now?”

  “I haven’t planned that far ahead,” he said, betraying his smile with his eyes.

  “Somehow I doubt that. Your grandfather said the company was ready for bigger projects, even as big as a convention center.”

  “Jack Brighton sees no boundaries, but nothing is happening at this time.”

  “He did say he’d ask you to keep me in the loop for any future announcements.”

  “Be assured, when the time is right, we’ll inform the press.”

  “Do you have something working in the preconstruction stage?”

  “Perhaps Granddad said something you misunderstood.”

  “I assumed since you’re clearing that lot by the lake that you must have something in mind for development.”

  He scrutinized the reporter’s face through a squint, folding his arms across his chest. After a moment, he said, “Perhaps I do have something in mind.”

  “But nothing is on the record regarding future plans for the lot. You have to admit that’s unusual.”

  “If you must know, clearing the lot was a mistake,” he said, walking around his work desk and then shuffling through some papers. “I was under the impression my grandfather wanted to replace the buildings on the lot, so I arranged for the clearing. As it turns out, I was a bit premature.”

  “I’m sorry if I caused a problem between you two.”

  “No harm done. It was a misunderstanding. We’re fine. But I must excuse myself and get back to work.” He reprised his politician’s façade and accompanied the reporter outside.

  Kate couldn’t shake the image of Allen’s face as they parted. She didn’t expect him to give her his business plan, but she didn’t expect him to lie to her either. Not that she knew which portion was a lie, but something in his final expression screamed don’t trust me.

  IT WAS AFTER FOUR WHEN Kate walked across the veranda and Etta opened the screen door.

  “I hope it’s not too late,” Kate said. “I wanted to finish our discussion.”

  “You’re always welcome. Come in. I made a fresh pitcher of tea.” Etta poured a glass and handed it to Kate.

  “I hope everything went smoothly with Tom and Sid.”

  “They were very nice, as you instructed them,” Etta said.

  “I didn’t know you heard me.”

  Etta smiled and said, “I’ll admit I was taken aback when they asked about the St. Limas lot that you and I discussed the other day.”

  “Etta, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say after all you told me. I intended to get back to you sooner, but—”

  “No need for an apology.”

  “Jack Brighton seemed as bewildered as you that the lot was being cleared. And he recalled his promise about restoring the buildings.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to speak to him, but I have no doubt he remembered the promise. He’s a man of his word.”

  “According to Larry Allen, the lot was cleared by mistake.”

  “Did he say who made the mistake?”

  “He believed his grandfather was ready to restore the buildings so Larry had the lot cleared.”

  “Hmm,” Etta said, but offered no other comment.

  “Jack agreed to help me with the Branson history articles. But I’d like to do another piece about the more recent changes in the area, including all the construction, and any future plans for development.”

  “I’m sure that would be interesting.”

  “As an officer of Fortune Enterprises, you must have an opinion about its future. Jack mentioned stepping up to more ambitious projects. Would you have anything to add to that?”

  “Gracious, I’d forgotten I was vice president of the company, mostly an honorary position. I attend a meeting now and then, but Jack and Randy run the business.”

  “And his grandson?”

  “Larry may act like he’s in charge, but my money is on Jack, regardless of his age. And Randy always has Jack’s back.”

  “Allen seems quite the confident executive,” Kate offered.

  “You mean he’s cocksure of himself.”

  “He’s the youngest alderman ever elected in Ward 1, which is overwhelmingly old guard.”

  “I’m not saying he shouldn’t be proud of what he’s accomplished. I’m saying he can be a little much for this old woman to take sometimes. If you know what I mean.”

  Kate nodded. “I’ve gone a couple rounds with the man myself.”

  “Now that would be worth the price of admission.”

  Kate chuckled. “But you don’t know of any big plans? Something they might have discussed at the last meeting?”

  “Nothing specific. Jack’s always talking about reaching for the stars, doing something different and bigger. That’s how he’s gotten the company where it is today. He doesn’t accept the impossible. If it hasn’t been done, it means he hasn’t tried it yet.”

  “Sounds like quite a man.”

  “And a good friend.”

  “What about you, Etta? What would you like to see in Branson?”

  “I’m with Jack. The sky’s the limit. With the right timing and the appropriate set of people to pull it off, anything is possible.”

  “Investors, you mean.”

  “Money’s important, but you have to have a group of supporters, willing participants. Sometimes that’s the hardest part, especially in a small town. Sorry, I’m not more helpful.”

  Kate said, “You’ll let me know if you hear anything. Right?”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t count on someone confiding secrets to me.”

  “Can we discuss Bryan Porter before I go? We were interrupted earlier.”

  “Nothing more to discuss,” Etta said with a shrug.

  “Can you tell me what proof he wants from you?”

  “Kate, I’m not sure how much you overheard, but as I told Bryan, even if I had the proof he thinks I have, it wouldn’t matter,” Etta said, sweeping her hands in front of her to emphasize her point. “He’s hanging on to a grain of truth his father gave him and his mother nurtured. But he’s wrong.”

  “It sounds mysterious. If I knew more, perhaps it would explain why he does some of the things he does.”

  “You mean like protesting against Larry when he ran for city council?”

  �
��Yes, and now he’s made an official claim against the city of Branson.”

  Etta furrowed her brow and said, “What kind of claim?”

  “That the Building Department has shown favoritism with some of the contractors in town, in particular Fortune Enterprises.”

  “Anybody can claim anything,” Etta said.

  “But his complaint has caused a state audit.”

  “Missouri is pursuing his accusation?”

  “They have no choice. They’ll investigate and do a report and take whatever action is necessary. Do you know why he might hold a grudge against your company?”

  “Bryan has had it in for the company since his father left abruptly more than fifty years ago. He believes Jack made Lex quit or fired him. When Lex’s own business failed, he was forced to search out of town for work. Bryan blames Jack for that and all his father’s, and his family’s, problems, including his father not coming back to Branson.”

  “But Jack and Lex were good friends. Right?”

  “Yes. And as far as I know that never changed. I don’t recall an issue that might cause Lex to leave or not come back. It was a long time ago.”

  Kate questioned Etta’s memory gap regarding her two childhood friends, even if it was fifty years ago. One thing was certain, the older woman didn’t want to discuss it with a reporter. She turned off the recorder and dropped it in her bag and eased off the sofa. Etta followed her to the door.

  “Kate, I’m sorry I was rude. I shouldn’t take out my frustration with Bryan on you.”

  “Maybe I should stick to the subject of my articles and stay out of other people’s business.”

  “Don’t ever apologize for being curious. It makes you a good reporter. And speaking of that, wait here. I have something for you.”

  When Etta returned to the porch, she was holding the handcrafted cedar box Kate admired during their first session. “I want you to have this ... for being kind to me and doing a good job on all the articles.”

  Kate said, “That’s very sweet of you, but I can’t take a gift from someone I interview.”

  “Your articles about me are over. We’re friends now. This is a gift to my friend.”

  “Seriously, I can’t accept it,” Kate said.

  Etta raised the box higher and smiled. “Call it a loan. You can take a picture of it for a crafts fair article.”

  “A loan,” Kate said, taking the box. “But I will bring it back.”

  “Don’t try to out-stubborn me, Kate. I’ve had more time at it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kate scanned three gossip magazines cover-to-cover before becoming first in line at the grocery store. Her father’s desperate pleas were the driving force behind the Saturday morning errand, something she would never do for herself. Whatever he had planned for lunch better be worth it, she mused.

  Bryan Porter crossed the lot toward the entrance as she emerged. She saw no reason to let the opportunity go by. “Mr. Porter, do you have a moment?” she shouted and rushed toward him.

  His head jerked around, and he squinted. “Kate Starling. Fancy meeting you here.”

  “May I ask you a question?”

  “Not if it’s the same one you asked at the press conference,” he said and walked away.

  Kate persisted. “What do you want from Etta Stupholds?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “She wouldn’t elaborate. Perhaps I could help you find what you’re looking for.”

  “Why would you help me?”

  “Does it have something to do with Riverside Mercantile? My father told me you helped out at the store when you were a young boy.”

  “Well, it has nothing to do with me.”

  “Mr. Porter, I’m a good investigative journalist. Let me try to help.”

  “Sorry, it’s in Etta’s hands.”

  “What about Jack Brighton or Randy? Maybe I could ask them about it?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced at Kate, and stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets. As his cheeks blushed, she wasn’t sure if he was going to answer her or explode in anger. Without a word he spun around and continued toward the entrance. Just as quickly he whirled back toward her and poked his index finger into the air several times. “Ask Jack about the agreement he had with my dad. Ask him why he reneged on that promise and destroyed my family.”

  “What agreement?” Kate shouted, but he was already in the store. She’d have to pursue his vague statement another time.

  KATE’S FATHER SCOOTED the table across the patio and onto the lawn. He pulled some weeds out of the cracks in the cement, then grabbed the broom and swept the dirt and dead foliage into the yard. Once he returned the table to its usual position close to the sliding glass doors, he arranged the chairs around the table and wiped everything down with a rag.

  She put the grocery bag down on the table. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’ve invited Margie to join us for lunch.”

  “I distinctly remember your giving me your blessing to date Margie,” Roger said.

  “I suppose I did, not that my approval is needed.”

  “Your approval is important to me,” he said, giving her a one-arm hug.

  “Dinner rolls and potato salad. Right?”

  “That should do it. And you’re almost correct.” He opened the lid to the grill and emptied the remainder of a bag of charcoal on the bed.

  “Almost correct?”

  “We’ll have one more guest. Someone closer to your age.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you invited Tom?”

  “Guess I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Lucky for you I consider it a good surprise these days. Two weeks ago, not so much.”

  Roger followed his daughter into the kitchen. He took an ear of corn from the pile on the counter and removed the shuck. Kate accepted his handoff and prepared the cob for cooking on the grill. Working with him, living at home again, reminded her of the happy family years. The toll of the last few years—his arrest, declining business—had changed her dad. With business returning and a new lady friend he was enjoying life again.

  Tom tapped on the glass as he slid the patio door open. “Guess who I found lurking outside your house?”

  “I wasn’t lurking, officer. I promise,” Marge said.

  Roger smiled. “She was probably checking out my refurbished patio.”

  “Actually, it occurred to me I was at the wrong house,” Marge said.

  Kate chimed in, “Refurbished may be an exaggeration, but it is definitely an improvement.”

  Marge handed a large plastic container to Kate. “I brought the last of my tomatoes and some peppers.”

  “Great. That will make the meal complete.”

  Marge rolled up her sleeves and joined Kate at the sink. “Let me help you with those.”

  “What can I do, Roger?” Tom asked.

  “Come out and help with the grill. I’m sure the coals need a little coaxing.”

  Kate finished wrapping the next ear. “I’m glad you could join us today.”

  “I appreciate your saying that,” Marge said.

  “I mean it. I haven’t seen Dad this happy in years.”

  “Really?”

  “Definitely. It may be a coincidence, but I noticed the difference as soon as he devoured that chicken soup you brought him.”

  A flush crept across her cheeks as she handed Kate another ear of corn. “That’s nice to know,” she whispered.

  Tom crossed the room and removed the tray of steaks from the refrigerator. “How’s the corn coming? We’ll be ready for it in three minutes.” He didn’t wait for an answer.

  “He made that up,” Kate said.

  “It did seem a bit precise.”

  “He’s pretending he knows how to work the grill. I’ve seen this act before.”

  “I’m glad to see the rumors are true.”

  “About the reprise of the star-crossed lovers?”

&n
bsp; “You were so cute together in high school.”

  Kate wasn’t sure about cute, but they had fun. She stacked the corn on a tray and handed her guest a plate for the tomatoes and peppers. Marge pitched in without a word, comfortable in the kitchen, genuinely happy to be part of the action. Concerned at first about the twelve-year age difference between the realtor and her dad, Kate was beginning to consider it an advantage. Clearly her father was full of energy and on cloud nine.

  Marge added the last dish to the lineup on the counter as Tom returned. “We’re ready,” he said, grabbing the plates and silverware.

  The women put the food on the table and took seats opposite one another. Roger served the steaks as Tom gathered the corn from the grill.

  “I forgot the tea,” Kate said, heading to the kitchen.

  Tom followed her and grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. “You forgot this plate,” he said.

  “That’s dessert.”

  “My favorite cookies from the town bakery.”

  “They are also my father’s favorite.”

  “I remember,” Tom said.

  Roger and Tom took turns topping one another’s fishing stories for over thirty minutes. Kate incorporated her version of a particular story on occasion. Marge hung on Roger’s every word and managed a chuckle or two for Tom’s stories too. It wasn’t until Marge returned from the kitchen with the platter of cookies that Kate realized the other woman had been excluded from the conversation.

  “Thanks for clearing the table, Margie. Apparently, I was mesmerized by the tall tales. I should have helped.”

  “No problem. The stories were great.”

  “So, what’s happening in the real estate business?” Kate asked.

  “I’ve sold some small residential and business properties. And I have a few rentals to keep me busy.”

  “I know the Building Department has been swamped with new projects, but I’m glad business in general is okay.”

  Roger said, “Tell them what you told me, Margie.”

  “They wouldn’t be interested. It’s not much more than town gossip.”

  “Hey, nothing wrong with good gossip,” Tom said. “I’d love to hear it.”