by Diane Noble
She shook her head. “I’m getting more puzzled by the day.”
The phone rang, and eyebrows shot up around the table.
“Maybe that’s him,” John said.
They all seemed as excited as Kate was over the mystery of the urn’s origins. She smiled. It was a good distraction.
Kate reached for the phone. Before she could say hello, Renee asked if she’d seen the morning’s Chronicle.
“We just finished reading it,” Kate told her. “And what a beautiful photograph of the urn. It really shows it off to its best advantage.”
“Collin took the shot. He has a camera the size of a credit card, but it takes professional photos.”
“He’s very good.”
Renee chuckled. “His photography is almost as good as his ability to speak all those languages.” Without missing a beat, she hurried on. “We’re becoming world famous—you know, the urn, Collin, and me. Some friends in Nashville called this morning to congratulate me. They’d seen our picture in front of the Neptune Fountain.”
Renee rhapsodized on and on about Collin while John and Paul finished clearing the table and Melissa lifted Mia from Kate’s lap to dress her for the trip to Pine Ridge.
After she finished the call with Renee, Kate sat down at the kitchen table to make out a grocery list. Paul came around the corner. He let his gaze drift to the maple tree on the other side of the sliding-glass door, shifted his weight, then cleared his throat.
She tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, though a little too quickly. “I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be riding in to Pine Ridge with the kids this morning.”
Kate stood up with a wide smile. “Oh, good idea! Let’s go with them today.” She glanced at the clock. “But there’s barely time for me to get ready.”
“Um...” He let his gaze drift again, this time over her left shoulder. “Well, actually, you can’t go. That is, I’d rather you didn’t go.”
Kate frowned. “I can’t go? You’re just going with the kids to the clinic, aren’t you?”
Paul’s blue eyes met hers. “Actually, no.”
She blinked, remembering her promise to trust him.
Melissa came around the corner just then, John right behind her, holding Mia.
Melissa met her father’s gaze, then stepped over to Kate and gave her a hug.
“You know, don’t you?” Kate said to her daughter.
But Melissa’s expression was guileless. “Know what?” she said.
Kate had promised Paul she would trust him, but she hadn’t promised not to talk about her worries about him. As soon as John drove away, Melissa beside him in the front seat, Paul looking a little cramped in the back next to Mia’s car seat, she hurried to the phone and called Livvy at the library.
“We’ve got to talk,” she said to her friend. “Can you get away for lunch?”
“Is it about the urn?”
“Not this time. It’s about Paul, but I can’t go into detail right now. I’ll tell you when I see you.”
“Do you mind going a little early? Say eleven forty-five at the diner? The team from the county’s going to be here at one.”
“I’ll see you there.”
KATE ARRIVED AT THE DINER several minutes before Livvy did. She took a seat in their favorite booth.
In the back corner, two men she didn’t recognize were having coffee and reading the Chronicle. She noticed an ad for the Hamilton Springs Hotel on the bottom left corner of the back page, the same ad she knew was on the page with Livvy’s article and the photo of the urn.
The men seemed to be having an exchange about the article, which surprised her.
Livvy breezed through the door just then, distracting Kate. Her friend waved to LuAnne, who sang out, “Buon giorno,” then headed toward the booth with two menus under one arm, two empty mugs and the coffeepot in her opposite hand. Her pencil rested over one ear, and it looked as if her bright red hair had just been freshened from a bottle. With her polyester dress, spotless apron, and glasses hanging from a jeweled chain around her neck, she looked as if she’d stepped right out of the fifties.
She grinned at the two women. “The chef’s special today is spaghetti, though if you want to know the truth, it might as well have come out of a can. You know, that awful stuff kids eat that’s shaped like little O’s? After you’ve had the real thing, like we did in Italy, this Americanized stuff will never again make the grade.”
“I think I’ll pass,” Kate said. “How about a dinner salad and half a grilled-cheese sandwich?” She handed the menu back to LuAnne.
“I’ll have the same, plus some iced tea.”
“Make that two,” Kate said.
LuAnne hurried off to put in their orders.
“Okay, spill,” Livvy said gently. “You and Paul aren’t having trouble, are you?” Her hazel eyes searched Kate’s.
“Oh no, it’s nothing like that.” Kate sat back and folded her arms. “It’s just something I can’t figure out.”
Livvy laughed. “You’ve just now discovered you can’t figure out a man?”
Kate couldn’t help smiling. “You’ve got a point. But this is different. It’s about that secret Paul’s keeping from me. This morning he took off with the kids and adamantly told me I couldn’t go. You know how I am with mysteries...This thing is driving me nuts. He’s asked me to trust him, and I’ve given my promise to do so.”
In a heartbeat, Livvy’s expression changed. The concern was still there, but something else slid in beside it before Kate could blink. And Livvy was nibbling on her bottom lip, something she did when she was nervous.
“You might try looking at it this way: because you trust him, you don’t need to pursue this.”
Kate tilted her head and almost asked Livvy to repeat what she’d said. It sounded as if her friend was taking Paul’s side in this. “Really?”
Before Livvy could respond, LuAnne returned with their iced teas. She slipped into the booth with them and leaned forward, whispering as she spoke. “Did you see those fellas over there?”
Kate nodded. “I noticed them earlier. They’re reading the Chronicle. It looked like they were reading about the urn.”
“They’re actin’ pretty shifty, if you ask me,” LuAnne said. “They’re not from around these parts, I do know that for a fact.” She leaned in closer. “They’ve been talkin’ about their boss being on the way to Copper Mill and arguin’ about whether to strike while the iron’s hot. Those were their very words, strike while the iron’s hot.”
Kate took another look at the duo. They appeared to be in their thirties. One had carrot red hair; a long, lean face; and a short upper lip. The other sat lower in the booth, signaling to Kate that he was a shorter man by far than the other. He had brown, curly hair and a round face with a goatee and a pencil-thin mustache.
They were still arguing over something when Kate turned back to Livvy and LuAnne.
“They’re up to no good,” LuAnne whispered. “I’ve overheard a lot of talkin’ in the years I’ve worked here, I mean a lot, and I can call ’em like I see ’em, believe you me. And I’m callin’ these two up to no good.”
Loretta rang the bell, indicating an order was up, and LuAnne stood to bustle over to get their meals. A minute later, she returned with the sandwiches and salads. Then she searched her pocket for their bill and placed it between the salt and pepper shakers.
“They do look a bit suspicious,” Livvy said. Then she laughed. “Though for the life of me, I can’t say why.”
Kate turned to look, but Carrot-top caught her looking and stared. She gave him a smile and a little wave so she didn’t appear to be spying on them.
“They’re making some sort of plans on a napkin,” she said to Livvy. “Can you see that? It’s a drawing, or maybe a map.”
“I’m afraid to look,” Livvy said. “Every time I do, Curly catches me.”
Kate giggled. “Curly? I’ve been thinking of the
other one as Carrot-top.”
Livvy giggled with her. “Actually, they don’t look very dangerous to me. More like two characters in a Peter Sellers movie.” Then she sobered. “Kate, we didn’t finish talking about your concerns—with Paul, I mean. I didn’t mean to cut you off. You have every right to investigate what he’s up to, but I just meant he must have his reasons, and if he’s asked you to trust him, well, maybe you ought to consider abiding by his wishes.”
Kate nodded. “Today was just so hard. Having them leave without me...It really hurt.”
Livvy reached across the table to give her a half hug, the only kind of hug that could be managed in a booth. “I know it must have.” Then she glanced at the men in the corner and bent forward to whisper, “They’re leaving.”
Kate grinned. “Shall we follow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
They pulled out a few bills to cover their lunches and hurried out the door, just behind Curly and Carrot-top, who headed to a late 1960s GTO—metallic blue with a black vinyl top—parked in front of the diner. The paint was faded, and the vinyl top had obviously seen better days.
Carrot-top held out his hand to Curly for the keys.
“You got ’em,” Curly said.
“No, no. I gave ’em to you.”
They both spoke with backwoods drawls. Carrot-top was at least a foot taller than Curly, who was as round as he was tall.
“Nah,” Curly argued. “I’m sure you’ve got ’em.”
They patted their shirt pockets, moved to their pants pockets, then gave each other a blank stare before looking through the front passenger-side window at the steering column.
Kate and Livvy had moved down the sidewalk several feet and stood chatting as if in deep conversation as they watched the duo.
“I think they’ve locked themselves out of the car,” Kate said, stifling a giggle.
“Maybe we should offer to call a locksmith,” Livvy said.
Just then, the men’s voices rose, and Carrot-top moved menacingly closer to Curly. “You’re always messin’ up,” he said. “Remember that other time? You went off and left the car unlocked and the keys in the ignition.”
“That was the boss’s fault,” Curly said. “He had me so nervous, I wasn’t thinkin’ straight that day. It was his fault the car got stolen.”
“Yeah? He didn’t think so. He’s given us one last chance to make up for it, and now look what you did.”
They stared at the ignition for another few seconds, then rounded the car, one around the front, the other around the back, only to literally bump into each other by the driver’s side door.
Both shook their heads and rolled their eyes as if blaming the other for being a dolt. Then Curly pulled out one of those little kits that thieves use to open just about any lock they might meet, and within three seconds, the duo was in the car. The engine rumbled, and the tailpipe popped like gunfire as they drove off.
Kate and Livvy looked at each other.
“What was that all about?” Livvy said, shaking her head.
“LuAnne may be right. These two might be up to no good.”
“But what?” Livvy said. Then her eyes widened. “They were looking at the article in the Chronicle.”
“Specifically the photograph.” Kate swallowed hard. “And of course, the article mentions where the urn is on display.”
“What should we do?”
“I don’t know that there’s anything we can do. We don’t have any evidence—real evidence, I mean—that they have anything to do with them.”
“It’s just a souvenir,” Livvy said.
“Or is it?” Kate narrowed her eyes in thought. “Even if it is just a souvenir, it’s special to Renee, and for that reason alone, we can’t let anything happen to it. I’ll call Skip and let him know what we observed.”
Livvy checked her watch, started to turn toward the library, then stopped and touched Kate’s hand. “We got so busy with everything else, I forgot to ask about Mia. What’s the latest?”
“I haven’t heard anything since this morning.”
Almost as if on cue, her cell phone chimed. She checked caller ID, then held up a hand for Livvy to wait and mouthed, “It’s Paul,” as she flipped it open.
“I’m with the kids, Katie. We’re about to start for home.”
“That’s good. I’ll start thinking about dinner.”
“There’s something else.”
“What is it?”
For several heartbeats, he didn’t speak. When he finally did, his voice was full of sorrow. “The preliminary results of the tests have come in.”
Chapter Twelve
Kate was getting ready for church when the phone rang. She heard Paul pick it up in the kitchen, but after his initial “hello,” he did more listening than talking. She ran the brush through her hair, dabbed on some lip gloss, then hurried to the kitchen to see who had called. She rounded the corner just as Paul hung up the phone.
“That was Sheriff Roberts,” he said, turning toward Kate. “He said that after you called Skip Spencer about these guys at the diner, the deputy’s been keeping an eye on the church, just in case. Sure enough, last night around midnight he spotted a man standing by the church entrance. But by the time Skip got out of his SUV, he’d run off. Skip sounded worried, said to thank you for the heads-up. He plans to keep an eye on the church for the next few nights.”
AN HOUR LATER, Kate settled into the second pew, Mia on her lap, Melissa on her left, and John on Melissa’s opposite side. After a rousing “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty,” with Sam Gorman at the organ, Paul stepped to the pulpit and asked Melissa and her family to stand. John took Mia into his arms, then stood and faced the congregation, Melissa at his side.
“We would like to ask for you all to pray with us through this week,” Paul said solemnly. “We’ve just found out that Mia may have to undergo open-heart surgery to repair a valve that isn’t opening and closing correctly. This means that the blood can’t flow smoothly, and she isn’t getting the oxygen she needs in her lungs.”
Gasps rose from the congregation. Kate heard more than one “Oh no,” and someone sitting in the pew behind her patted her on the shoulder.
Then Mia, without knowing what she was doing, changed the tone of the service and the expressions on faces from concern and sorrow to smiles and even a few giggles. While her grandpa was explaining her condition to the congregation, she made a face at her daddy, patted his cheek, then played with his ears.
Renee Lambert was sitting behind Kate, Kisses on her lap, and Mia giggled and tried to squirm out of her daddy’s arms to reach the little Chihuahua.
“Doggie,” she squealed. “Doggie!”
Renee, in a surprising move, reached beneath the pew and handed the end of Kisses’ leash to Kate. A minute later, the little dog trotted beneath the pew and hopped on Kate’s lap.
Mia reached noisily for her “gamma,” and soon Kate was holding her granddaughter too, who was happily hugging Kisses. The Chihuahua’s tail thumped with delight as Mia played with his ears.
John and Melissa sat down, and the service proceeded. Two more hymns were sung, one by the choir. Kate didn’t take her usual place with them because she didn’t want to disturb Mia, who had popped in her favorite binky and was falling asleep, her head nestled in the crook of Kate’s arm. Kisses had curled up beside her, and Kate prayed he wouldn’t raise the rafters with his usual snoring.
“I would like for us to consider God’s strength this morning,” Paul said when he stood to give the sermon. “The kind of strength we need when our world is rocked off its axis by unexpected and unwelcome events.”
He paused, looking out across the congregation. “In Psalm 46:1–2, we read, ‘God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.’ Friends, sooner or later, we all get hit with events that bring us to our knees. Those unexpected events that trouble us or those we love.”
He named some of the challenges
that members of the congregation were facing, then his gaze rested on his family, especially on Mia, who was now sound asleep in Kate’s arms.
Paul’s sermon was one of the most heartfelt Kate had ever heard him give, and she knew he was talking to himself as much as he was to the congregation. Each time he spoke of needing God’s grace, strength, and courage to continue on, he glanced at Mia, and something in his face told Kate what a struggle he was having over the news about her surgery.
“When our days seem dark,” he concluded, “we can take comfort that God knows our every thought...that he feels our every pain...that he cares about us every bit as much as he cares about the birds of the air.”
He paused. “And if there is anything we can learn from the Scriptures, it is that God’s faithfulness is something we can count on more than anything else in life.
“So, this morning, I say to you with the psalmist, ‘Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all you who hope in the Lord.’”
He looked out across the congregation again, then moved to stand once more behind the pulpit. “Without a doubt, the greatest comfort of all,” Paul said, “and that which can give us the most enduring strength in the midst of trouble, is the fact that we are never alone—we or those we love—no matter the circumstances we are going through. God, in his everlasting faithfulness, is with us.”
THAT AFTERNOON, Kate again spread the quilt beneath the maple tree. The family had just finished eating a chicken-and-tortilla casserole that Kate had put in the oven before church, and as she sat down with Mia, Melissa came out to sit with her. She brought two glasses of iced tea and handed one to Kate.
The men were sitting at the kitchen table, John’s laptop open in front of them. The sliding door leading outside was pushed back, with only the screen pulled closed. Kate could hear John’s rapid typing as he opened a new program that he wanted to show his father-in-law.
“How are you doing?” she asked Melissa.
“Dad’s sermon really spoke to my heart. I felt he’d written it just for John and me.” She fell quiet a moment, then said, “But honestly, I don’t feel very courageous at all right now. What if Mia does have to have surgery? She’s so tiny.”