by Beth Urich
“Mine and the entire ...” Laura squinted and shook her head. She pursed her lips and turned an invisible key.
“Okay. Maybe I should speak to the mayor about it.”
“Won’t be in today.”
“How about Mark Orchard? Is the esteemed city administrator available?”
“Not to discuss what you want to discuss.”
“Okay, I get it. Audit is off-limits. What about the city’s own up-coming project?”
Kate knew she’d hit a chord when Laura’s eyes glazed over. The reporter held her breath hoping for a deep dark secret. Instead, the other woman made the invisible key motion again.
“Come on, give a hungry reporter a break. I need to know the status of the project as of today. You can put that in one simple sentence.”
“It’s on track.”
“You mean the plans for construction are on schedule?”
“You said one sentence.”
“True, but I want to be accurate. The more specific, the more accurately I can report.”
“You can’t report this until the city makes an official announcement.”
Kate knew the administrative assistant’s position in city government exposed her to a great deal of information. But Laura had never provided Kate with more than rumors—albeit juicy ones. Goodness knows the lunch with Claire was a bust—the relatively new employee either knew very little or was terrified to say something and get herself fired. Prying more from Laura would require a bit of a push.
“Hopefully they’ll release something before the ground-breaking ceremony,” Kate said.
“I’m sure something will be published before they tear up the parking lot.”
“What parking lot?”
Laura shook her head. “You’re fishing.”
“I meant which parking lot will be done first?”
“Adams Street. But that’s all I’m saying. Now go away.”
Kate crossed the room slowly, pretending to check her calendar as Tom and Bryan shook hands. She was close enough to see the anger in Porter’s face and overhear the official warning.
Tom stared into Porter’s eyes and said, “Give it some thought. Stay away from Allen, for your own good. You can get in a lot of trouble making accusations about someone, especially if you have no proof. ”
Without a word, Porter turned and walked to the exit doors. He hesitated one moment then left the building.
“What was that all about?” Kate asked.
Tom wheeled around and replaced his frown with his familiar grin. “Hey, Katie. Saw you talking to Laura. What’s up?”
“I asked you first,” she said, checking out his police uniform.
“Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
“I didn’t know you were friends with Bryan Porter.”
“That was more like an official conversation. Call it a warning.”
Kate shrugged as if disinterested and changed the subject. “What’s with the uniform?”
“I’m testifying on a case this morning. Prosecutor suggested my official attire might lend an air of credibility, whatever that means.”
He stepped back as if to give her a better view. “What do you think?”
Credible maybe, definitely alluring. And the touch of gray in his dark brown waves gives him an air of maturity, which will probably come in handy for a thirty-four-year-old detective sergeant.
Tom persisted, “Will I convince the judge?”
“The judge will be impressed, believe me. Anyway, Laura and I were chatting about the big new construction project the city is about to announce.”
“But Laura didn’t give you any details, so you’re pumping me.”
“More like I’m curious”
“As far as I know the city project is a simple city hall expansion. Apparently, we have out-grown the building. Even I know about it, but the mayor prefers to control the publicity.”
“Maybe something else is going on you don’t know about,” she said.
“I’ll let you know when I get the next tidbit. I’m sure I’m on the need-to-know list.”
Kate frowned at his sarcasm and moved on to the next topic. “Laura also told me about Porter’s recent altercation with Larry Allen. Was that what you two were discussing? Does he have something against the councilman?”
“You mean, is it newsworthy?”
Kate took a deep breath. “Allen is a public official. We have a right to know about any grievances.”
“In my opinion ... and this is not for publication ... Bryan has some serious anger issues.”
“Etta said he’s always been angry.”
“Always?”
“He worked at her mercantile when he was a kid. She’s known him all his life.”
“Amazing.”
“Which part?” Kate asked.
“That you know these things. You never cease to surprise me with some obtuse fact about this town or the people in it or how they all fit together.”
“I ask questions for a living, remember?”
“Sometimes that slips my mind. But since you brought it up, I’d like to ask you a question about the day Sid and I saw you at Etta’s. Bryan Porter drove away as we arrived.”
“Wow, this is a switch. Usually, I’m the one digging for info.”
“I’m not digging, I’m curious.”
“Must be something in the air.”
“So, do you know why Bryan visited Etta?”
“Since we are old friends, I’ll tell you what I know. When I got there Bryan and Etta were arguing. He was shouting at her, but I was too far away to distinguish their words. He left before I could ask him any questions.”
“But I bet you discussed his visit with Etta.”
“I’m beginning to see how my interviewing techniques must annoy people.”
“You forget, I’m a detective. I ask questions for a living too.”
“Sometimes that slips my mind,” she said with a smile. “Apparently Etta has some proof Bryan needs. He thinks that she owes him. It has something to do with why his father left the business they all ran. But she says she can’t help him.”
Tom stared ahead, not at Kate but through her. He seemed to be digesting what she told him, seeing how the data fit with other information he possessed.
“Where did you go?” she asked.
“Sorry, my mind wandered.”
“Care to share?”
“I have to get to the courtroom,” he said, turning to leave.
Kate said, “Don’t forget dinner Saturday at my house six o’clock.”
THE DRIVE TO THE COUNTY seat seemed unusually long. Kate had time to mull over both the lakefront and the skeleton issues. Unfortunately, neither story would pass Helen’s inevitable fact-check-and-substance test. Even Kate would be hard pressed to draw any logical conclusions at this point. Hopefully Evan’s update was not a tease to lure her to Forsyth.
She took her place behind two other customers, but Evan motioned for her to go to the far end of the counter where he handed her a manila envelope.
“Here are the pages you asked for,” he said aloud before lowering his voice to a whisper. “These transfers will interest you.”
Kate pulled out the sheets and glanced over the first pages of two recently recorded deeds. Both properties were in the lakefront residential area. Each now belonged to the same individual. The name seemed familiar, but it was not the company or either corporate agent. She hesitated to get too excited. Marge would know the significance of Evan’s observation.
“Thanks, Evan. I appreciate your doing this for me. How much for the copies?”
“You prepaid. Remember?” he said with a wink. “I hope they help with your research.”
“Time will tell.”
Evan seemed pleased with himself. He blushed as he returned to his position at the counter. “I’ll call you when the next batch is ready.”
“I appreciate your help.” She said sweetly and waved goodbye, deciding not
to dwell on what Evan was hoping to get for his services. Perhaps he’s a bit of an armchair detective himself and in it for the excitement.
Kate called Marge from her car phone to find out if the visit was worth her time.
“Margie, this is Kate. Who is Harold Wainright?”
“I’m not sure. What’s he done?”
“Can I meet you at your office in about twenty minutes?”
“I’ll be here. And I’ll see what I can find out about Mr. Wainright.”
Kate was beginning to enjoy this teamwork thing. Maybe Helen had the right idea. Having someone else’s perspective and resources was refreshing, plus neither Evan nor her father’s girlfriend would ask for a shared byline.
Marge met Kate at the entrance and started talking before they got settled at her desk. “I had to make several calls to find out about Harold Wainright. I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed. He retired from some big company in Chicago and moved to the area about a year ago. Lives with his wife in a spectacular house on Table Rock Lake. I remember the listing. No one who contacted me had that kind of money, but I went out there for a gander. Great view, built about fifteen years ago.”
“And so?” Kate interrupted.
“Just the facts, right?”
“Please.”
“He closed on two rentals and has contracts on at least two others, all along the downtown lakefront.”
“Interesting.”
“Yes and no.”
“Go ahead. Take the air out of my sail.”
“First, it’s not that unusual for rentals to change hands. These four properties were owned by four individuals. Rentals are hard, even for professionals. Second, these four houses are old and small. Consequently, the asking prices were low. And, by the way, all of them were listed well-before Mr. Wainright arrived in Branson. The owners were eager to sell. The locations are probably coincidental.”
“Do you have notes?” Kate asked, trying—unsuccessfully—to hide her disappointment.
“Already made you a copy.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tom parked as close to the house as possible, but still more than halfway toward the motel office. Roger’s business had definitely recovered in the last year—good for him and Branson. And good for Tom that he didn’t see Roger’s truck. Maybe Roger and Marge are out on a date.
Kate—framed by the front picture window—directed him around to the patio. Two candles were centered on the table, which had been set with what Tom knew to be Kate’s mother’s best dishes.
“What did I do to deserve this?” he asked.
“I decided to take advantage of the warm evening. Oh, did I mention that Dad and Margie are in Springfield at a real estate thing. Won’t be home until late.”
“Sorry I missed them.”
“Liar.”
Tom leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “I confess. I’m not disappointed we are able to spend a little quality time alone.”
Kate put her arms around his neck. “After dinner, I have a surprise for you.”
He kissed her gently on the lips, pulling her closer. His heart pounded in his chest, or maybe it was hers. Welcoming her eager hug, he nuzzled his cheek against hers. He didn’t want to let go, and he knew she felt the same as he welcomed her lips with his own. The depth of his obsession with Kate had never diminished. When they broke up and he moved away, he buried the feelings, tried to forget how special their relationship—their love—was. But that changed when he returned to Branson.
She pulled away and stepped back. “That was the pizza.”
“What was the pizza?”
“Didn’t you hear the timer?”
He followed her into the kitchen. “Perhaps you didn’t notice, but I was seriously in another world.”
She glanced over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose like the schoolgirl he remembered. He grabbed her arm and drew her to his chest. She pressed against him until the oven bell sounded again.
“Let me turn this off.”
“Can you do that without moving?”
She shook her head. “Do you want to eat charcoal pizza?”
“My favorite.”
“We have all evening. Remember?”
“Exactly how late will they be?”
She raised an eyebrow and pulled away to retrieve the pizza and slice it. “I’ll take this out. Can you grab a couple beers?”
“Does this mean we’re going to eat now?”
Tom had to admit, the evening was spectacular—a light southern breeze and a still bright waning moon. He leaned back in the chair and watched his companion slip a wedge of pizza on each plate. She poured her beer into a glass and took a sip.
“I love ice-cold beer, especially with pizza,” she said.
“This looks great. Did you make it from scratch?”
“Okay. Either that was sarcasm, or you’ve forgotten who your date is.”
“I made a little joke. I’m having a great time, that’s all.”
The first pieces disappeared in silence with Tom lost in his memories. Although Kate was quite a bit taller now, the five-year-old he met in school was still around—the long auburn hair, dazzling blue eyes, and glowing freckles. So much had happened. He was grateful for another chance at happiness.
“Why are you staring at me with that silly gaze on your face?” she asked.
“I was remembering this cute little girl I used to see during recess.”
“The one you chased around the school yard?”
“That’s the one.”
Kate served each of them another slice. “Wonder what happened to that cute little gal.”
Tom reached across the table and took her hand in his. “She grew into a beautiful, intelligent, lady. I lost touch with her for a while, but we’ve recently reunited.”
“How’s that going for you?”
“Seems pretty good so far.” He came out of his chair at the same time pulling her toward him. They shared a passionate kiss, but he stopped. He didn’t want to rush things. Stepping back, he let his fingers slide down her arms and squeeze her hands.
She returned the squeeze. “Too soon,” she said—not quite a question.
“Part of me feels as though we’ve never been apart. The other part keeps remembering we reconciled ... once again ... less than two weeks ago.”
“You do have a way with words, Detective Collingwood,” Kate commented, rolling her eyes.
“I don’t want to mess this up. This time it seems like we have a chance.”
“We’ve been up and down on a few occasions. You’re right about that.”
“What’s the surprise?”
“I almost forgot. I rented our favorite movie.”
“Okay. Remind me again the name of it.”
“You don’t remember?” The wrinkle in her brow and the daggers coming from her eyes meant he was in serious trouble.
We saw a lot of movies in high school, he thought. Our favorite, meaning her favorite, was probably a chick flick. Or maybe a special date. Think, man.
Kate crossed her arms in front of her—time was running out.
There was one special night. He had to try it. “Heaven something. Warren Beatty, right?”
“You have no idea how close that was, detective.”
“Uh, I’m pretty clear on that point.”
“Heaven Can Wait. Pop it in the VCR and I’ll get us another round.”
He followed her orders and cued the tape. When she returned, she snuggled close to him and laid her head on his shoulder. Although he had hoped the evening would take a different turn, he was happy. In the months after her dad was cleared of the murder charge, the couple had tried several times to start dating again. Something always came up to sabotage the relationship. Perhaps this time would be different. Kate surprising him with the movie they saw the summer before his senior year was a good sign—a good place to start fresh.
Tom relaxed and enjoyed the movie. He’d forgotten how funny it was. Wh
at he did remember was the time afterward with Kate. They were celebrating her seventeenth birthday early because his family would be out of town on the actual date. It was a special evening.
Kate brushed a tear from her cheek and sat forward on the sofa as the final titles rolled on the small screen. She sighed deeply and walked to the VCR. “I love that ending,” she said, putting the tape in the rewinder.
“It brings back good memories,” he said.
“You do remember.”
“Yeah, I remember a lot about that night.”
“I hate to say this, but Dad will be home soon.”
“What happened to later?”
“We spent it watching a movie.”
They walked through the living room into the small foyer by the front door. He leaned against the wall next to the bookshelf, trying to stretch out the goodbye.
“Thanks for coming over. I had a great time,” she said, taking his hands.
“Me too. I enjoyed seeing our favorite movie again.”
“Even if you didn’t know it was our favorite?”
“Hey, is this a new bookshelf?”
“Okay. I’m not sure we voted it our favorite movie, but it was fun to see again. And all the furniture in this house has been in exactly the same place for thirty years.”
“But this box hasn’t. Is it one of Etta’s?”
“Very observant, detective. It was a gift from her for my incredibly kind and extremely professional job of writing about the creator of the Branson crafts fair.”
“I’m impressed.”
“It was a thoughtful present from a lady who lives a simple life.”
“Right.”
“What does that tone mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m sure the gift was sincere. But don’t for a second feel sorry for Etta Stupholds. She is most likely one of the richest women in town. Remember she’s a full partner with Jack Brighton in Fortune Enterprises. He established a trust fund for her in the 1940s. She wants for nothing.”
“Technically their partnership is in Riverside Mercantile.”
“Which owns Fortune Enterprises.”
Her hurt expression caught him off-guard. When it turned to a sweet pout, then the Katie-has-you grin, he relaxed. She smiled and moved close. Relieved that his weak attempt at banter had not backfired, he returned the hug and kissed her. He hesitated briefly before letting her go.