A Matter of Trust

by Diane Noble

  She replaced the urn in the glass case, locked it, then handed the key to Paul. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t kind. I know that church business is confidential...It’s just that—”

  He interrupted her. “Actually, it wasn’t church business.”

  But he didn’t offer any further explanation. He gestured toward the urn. “Did you discover anything new?”

  “Only that I’m even more puzzled by the language on the base. I’d like to have someone translate it, but such a person might be hard to find in Copper Mill.”

  “Didn’t Renee say something about Collin translating it?”

  “She did, but it wasn’t anything definitive.”

  Actually, nothing Kate had heard about Collin Wellington seemed definitive. But she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that bothered her about him. Shouldn’t it be enough that Renee and the others on the tour seemed to trust him?

  She held at bay the no that slammed into her mind and concentrated instead on her husband’s mysterious telephone calls.

  Paul held the outer door open, and she stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. He followed and walked her to the Honda.

  “I thought I’d drop by the library and see if I can find something online about the language origins.”

  He opened the driver’s side door, and she slid in. “You do know how much I love you, don’t you?” He gazed into her eyes.

  She blinked. He often told her he loved her, but this felt out of the blue.

  “Well, yes, I do, but—”

  He stooped and gave her a quick kiss. “Then you need to trust me.” He squeezed her arm affectionately before heading back toward the church entrance. He trotted up the steps, then turned and waved as she drove off.

  TWO HOURS LATER, Kate and Livvy settled into a blue vinyl booth at the Country Diner.

  “I tell you, Livvy, I’m worried about Paul. He’s keeping something from me, and it may be serious.” She was surprised when her eyes welled with tears. “The only thing I can figure is that it might be his health. He went in for a checkup last week, and maybe it was bad news that he doesn’t want me to worry about.”

  Livvy blinked, a little nervously, it seemed to Kate, then recovered quickly and patted Kate’s hand. Kate wondered if she was getting paranoid. She was beginning to think everyone close to her was in on something, but she had no idea what.

  Now with nothing but concern in her expression, Livvy said gently, “Something tells me that’s not all you’re worried about.”

  Kate gave her a shaky smile and told her friend about Melissa’s call and the alarm and sadness she detected in her voice. She pulled a tissue from her handbag. “Listen to me, I sound like the bearer of bad news. So far, this conversation has been only about my concerns.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Livvy said. “And now I know how I can pray for you.”

  LuAnne stepped up with her pad and pencil at the ready. “Buon giorno, girls, what’ll it be? The capricciosa for today is some awfully good chicken potpies fresh out of the oven. Local-grown carrots and free-range chicken, if you care about such things. Gravy thick as molasses in a hailstorm. Crust that’ll make you think of your grandma’s.” She kissed her fingertips Italian style. “Best part, there’s not a calorie in the whole thing.” She chuckled and winked.

  Kate and Livvy agreed that it sounded good and ordered one to split, and iced tea.

  After LuAnne left with their order, Kate leaned forward. “Capricciosa?”

  Livvy laughed. “It’s either ‘chef’s choice’ or ‘baby goat.’ I forget.”

  Kate laughed. “Speaking of Italy, Paul and I read your article this morning and loved it. It made me feel as if I were right there with you. I bet all the Chronicle readers feel the same way.”

  Livvy looked pleased. “Thanks. Renee and Collin’s budding romance was such a delight to us all. I couldn’t help writing about it.”

  LuAnne returned with their iced teas, then headed to another table to take an order.

  “Knowing Renee,” Kate said after a sip of tea, “I’m sure she was delighted to be featured in the story.”

  Livvy laughed. “Delighted is an understatement. Actually, she came up with the idea of me writing a column about the trip and hinted strongly that I should feature the story of her and Collin falling in love in such a romantic place.”

  Kate chuckled with her. “That’s our Renee.”

  Livvy nodded. “And, it seems, also our Collin?”

  “He agreed to their story being told?”

  “More than that. Renee told me that he’d been the one to put the bug in her ear, about asking me to write the articles.” She paused and took a sip of tea. “He was also the one who insisted we take the photo that was in the paper this morning. He said he wanted to remember standing beside Renee at the Neptune Fountain for the rest of his life.”

  “It must have been love at first sight,” Kate said, again attempting to keep her niggling doubts about Collin at bay. “Who would have thought such a thing could happen so quickly to Renee?”

  LuAnne brought their chicken potpie, with an extra plate and serving spoon. As Kate cut across the pie, the fragrance of chicken and rosemary made her and Livvy sigh. She scooped half onto the extra plate and handed it to Livvy, who closed her eyes and inhaled, looking as if she’d just received manna from heaven.

  As they ate, Kate told Livvy about stopping by the church to have another look at the urn, and about the beauty of the display.

  “It’s a unique piece of art, no doubt about it,” Livvy said, her fork hovering over a piece of golden crust.

  “Did you get a close enough look to see the hairline fractures?” Kate took a sip of iced tea and dabbed at her mouth with the corner of her napkin.

  Livvy’s brow furrowed in thought. “I did take a pretty good look right after Renee bought it. All of us did. But I didn’t notice anything unusual. The only thing I found odd is that there is some ancient code for opening it.” She laughed. “The first time Collin opened it, he obviously wanted to prove to Renee that there were no ashes inside. A few of the others of us tried the formula, and bingo, it opened. It was rather complicated, but we did it.”

  She shook her head slowly, smiling at the memory. “Collin said it was unique in that it’s an incredibly well-done copy of the original.”

  “Does anyone know where the original is located?”

  Livvy looked thoughtful. “Hmm. That never came up. I couldn’t tell you.”

  They ate for a few more minutes in silence, then Livvy took a sip of tea and sat back. “Wait a minute. You’re onto something, aren’t you?”

  Kate laughed. “Maybe, I guess. I was just struck by the beauty of the urn and what a magnificent replica it is.” She grinned. In fact, it was such a stunning piece that Kate had the idea that it may not be a replica at all.

  However, despite the fact that Livvy was her best friend, Kate wasn’t quite ready to tell her about the doubts that kept popping into her mind. Doubts that made her wonder if the piece might be an original.

  Livvy studied Kate for a moment as if she knew Kate was holding something back. “Well, at any rate, it seems you’re not the only one in these parts who’s interested. I received an e-mail this morning from a Dr. Hosea inquiring about the urn.” She lifted her brow as if in a friendly challenge.

  Kate grinned and took the bait. “Who’s Dr. Hosea?”

  “An archaeologist who lives in southern Tennessee, and a world-renowned expert in ancient artifacts. I Googled his name to check his credentials. He’s a well-known author and highly respected, from what I gathered.”

  “How did he happen to contact you?”

  Livvy shook her head. “He contacted the Chronicle’s office after reading their online version of the paper. They forwarded his e-mail to me.”

  “Very interesting,” Kate said, sipping her tea. “Especially since this supposedly is a replica. Would you mind if I contacted him?”

  “Not at a
ll,” Livvy said. “You know as much about the urn as I do.”

  A HALF HOUR LATER, Kate was seated at the bank of computers on the second floor of the library. After logging in to her personal e-mail account, she began composing a note to Dr. Hosea. She described the urn in great detail, including her observations about the hairline cracks in the alabaster.

  She reread the post, then clicked Send. Four other e-mails were listed in her in-box—two from friends in San Antonio; one from her son, Andrew; and one an advertisement for a new computer. She answered the first three, dumped the fourth, then aimed the cursor to the computer’s desktop menu to log off.

  Just then, she received notice that she had a new e-mail.

  Curious, she opened the program again. Dr. Hosea’s reply was listed in her mailbox. Surprised that he’d gotten back to her so quickly, she clicked on the e-mail to open it. Her eyes widened as she read: “You may have an extremely important find. Send photos immediately, if you have them.”

  Chapter Five

  The ringing telephone jarred Kate awake. She looked at the bedside clock: 5:23 AM. Her first thought was that it had to be Renee, who was obviously still fighting jet lag. Stifling a groan, she rubbed her eyes and swung her feet over the side of the bed.

  Then it hit her.

  Melissa!

  She grabbed her robe and, not bothering with her slippers, picked up the cordless receiver on the third ring. She headed as fast as she could toward the kitchen so she wouldn’t wake Paul.

  “Mom...?”

  “Yes, honey. I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry to call so early, but I know you’re an early riser. I didn’t think you’d mind. Besides, I just needed to hear your voice right now.”

  Kate fell into a nearby chair. “We’ve been waiting for your call—and praying for you every minute.”

  Melissa didn’t answer right away. “Thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Our appointments are set up, John finished his project, and we’re leaving tomorrow morning. I can’t wait to get there, to see you and Daddy.” Her voice trembled, and she cleared her throat.

  Kate took a deep breath. “You’ll be here early. That’s good. By noon, do you think?”

  “We...ah...well, not that early. We have some business to take care of on our way.”

  “Business?”

  The moment of silence that followed threatened to break Kate’s heart. “Honey, we already suspect something awful has happened. The reality can’t be any worse than what we’re imagining. I want to honor your wishes to wait till you get here to tell us what it is, but I must also let you know how much we wish you would tell us what’s going on.”

  She hesitated as she heard Melissa’s soft sniffles on the other end of the line. “Sweetie, wouldn’t it help you and John somehow lessen the burden you two are carrying to know we’re in this with you?”

  Melissa blew her nose. “Mom, I’ve wanted to tell you, I have from the beginning. Maybe now is the right time, at least so you know in general what we’re dealing with.” She started to cry softly. “It’s just so hard...”

  “I’m here, sweetie.” Kate’s heart was racing.

  Just then, Mia’s wail and Melissa’s quick intake of breath made Kate’s knees turn to jelly. “Melissa—”

  Melissa put down the phone with a clatter, and Kate could hear her soft comforting murmurs, the tiny sobs gradually quieting, and then her daughter returned to the phone.

  “Mia fell and bumped her head,” she said. “Nothing serious...”

  Kate smiled, remembering those bumps and wails she’d dealt with when the kids were toddlers. The cuddles and kissing the boo-boos afterward, the ceremonial Band-Aids. When Melissa was a two-year-old, she thought Band-Aids made all boo-boos go away, even headaches.

  “You were about to tell me what’s happened,” she said softly.

  “I can’t now,” Melissa said, and Kate pictured her daughter’s cheek resting on Mia’s head, the baby’s arms wrapped around Melissa’s neck. “Not with Mia here.”

  Not with Mia here?

  “But we’ll see you tomorrow, probably early afternoon.” Melissa’s voice seemed unnaturally cheerful.

  “We can’t wait to see you, honey,” Kate said. “Please drive carefully.”

  “We will...and Mama...”

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for, well, for being you.” She sniffled again. “I can’t wait to be safe in your arms.”

  Kate blinked back the quick tears that stung her eyes as she pictured her daughter as a toddler again, coming to her to kiss away the boo-boo. Oh, that life were that simple now.

  As soon as they said their good-byes, Kate bowed her head and prayed again for Melissa, John, and Mia. She leaned against the counter for strength. It was something troubling, she knew. But what? Marital problems? Health issues? John’s job? Financial issues?

  IT WAS GETTING CLOSE to six thirty when, after finishing her morning prayers, Kate got up from her rocker and went back into the kitchen.

  Outdoors, the morning had dawned balmy and bright. Kate hummed “His Eye Is on the Sparrow” as she poured a second cup of coffee for herself and a first cup for Paul, who had just rounded the corner into the kitchen.

  “Cinnamon rolls,” he announced. “I’d recognize that scent anywhere.” He chuckled as he headed to the table and sat down where Kate had placed his mug. Even though he was trying to remain upbeat, probably for her sake, Kate could see in his expression that he must have overheard Melissa’s call.

  “It’s a new recipe made with quick-rise dough.” She snapped her fingers. “Takes no longer than three shakes of a Javalina’s tail.”

  He grinned. “Javalina’s tail?”

  “I’m from Texas, remember?” Then she sobered. “The kids will be here tomorrow.” She slipped into the chair across the table from him. “When Melissa called, she said they were getting ready to leave.”

  Paul’s forehead furrowed with worry. “I’ve gone over what could be wrong a thousand times.”

  “I have too,” Kate said, giving him a soft smile. “And as we’ve told each other a thousand times, we need to leave it in God’s hands.” She reached for her mug. “I had an idea this morning while I was stirring together the ingredients.”

  “About the kids?”

  “Well, specifically about Melissa. She sounded so stressed this morning that I thought it might be nice to do something special for her.”

  “I agree. What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ve gone through a list of possibilities, but I keep coming back to choosing something for her that she would never choose for herself.”

  Paul sipped his coffee, then a corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile. “Why do I think it’s probably a girl thing?”

  The timer chimed, and Kate stood and headed to the stove. “Very perceptive.” Stooping to peer into the oven, she turned and gave him a quick grin, then pulled out the pan of rolls.

  “While you tell me about it, why don’t I help you with a taste test.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She scooped two buns from the pan and placed the larger one on a plate for Paul, the smaller on her own plate, then grabbed two forks from the flatware drawer.

  Paul refreshed their coffee and sat down again across from her. They bowed their heads, and after saying an earnest prayer for their children, Paul thanked God for his abundant provision.

  “Tell me,” he said after he’d taken his first bite of cinnamon roll, “what do you have in mind for Melissa?”

  “A spa treatment. Maybe a manicure or pedicure, or even a massage if you think we can afford it.” Kate watched for his reaction. Since he’d told her that they couldn’t manage the Italy trip because finances were tight, she had been even more careful than usual about her spending habits, even on gifts for others.

  “I think that’s a splendid idea,” Paul said. “I would like to heap some TLC on them while they’re here. Maybe I can c
ome up with something for John...He mentioned a book last time we were together—a Grisham novel, I think.”

  They cleared the table and took the dishes to the sink, talking about gift ideas for Mia. Kate said she needed to drop by the Mercantile later anyway for groceries, and she would look for something in the toy section.

  As she pulled a piece of cellophane wrap over the rolls, she added, “I’ll stop by the bank too. I’ll move some money from savings to take care of all this.”

  For a moment Paul didn’t speak. Then he said, “You’ve got enough to do, getting ready for the kids coming and all. I can easily stop at the bank, save you the trouble.”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll do it.” Was it her imagination or did he look suddenly worried about something?

  “Paul,” she said, resting her hand on his forearm. “If there’s some reason we shouldn’t spend the money right now, please tell me.”

  He shrugged. “There’s no reason,” he said. “I just wanted to save you a few steps in your busy day.”

  WHEN KATE HAD FINISHED her shopping at the Mercantile, she stopped at Mid-Cumberland Bank and Trust on her way to the spa at the Hamilton Springs Hotel.

  She filled out a transfer slip, then headed to Georgia Cline’s teller station and handed her the paper.

  Georgia took it with a smile, typed the account information into her computer, then made the transaction. As soon as it was complete, she handed Kate a printout of both accounts.

  Kate had taken a few steps away from Georgia’s window when she glanced at the balance in the savings account. She studied it a moment, then turned back.

  “Georgia, I think there must be some mistake,” she said. “My last statement showed a balance with significantly more money in savings.”

  Georgia patted her hair, adjusted her reading glasses, then tapped away at her keyboard. She turned the screen toward Kate to show her the individual transactions on the account.

  “A three-thousand-dollar withdrawal,” Kate breathed. “That’s got to be an error. We haven’t taken that much money out.”