Keeping Victoria's Secret

by Melinda Peters

  “Good afternoon, Doc, Elvira. Nice to see you both. You just missed Vicky and Jack. Unfortunately, I had to give them some news about the Willet property and Van Winkle’s claim. I’m afraid it’s not good news for Victoria.”

  “Fred, that’s exactly why we’re here.” Elvira leaned forward eagerly, clutching a book in her hands. “I want you to look at something. I have an idea that it might be of some help to you and Victoria.” She opened the book, thumbed through several pages until she found what she sought and slid it onto the desk. “This was my mother’s diary written during the war years and just after. Read this entry here, from September 1947.”

  Fred glanced from Elvira to Doc, questioning.

  “Go ahead, I think you’ll find it interesting,” said Doc.

  The lawyer put on his reading glasses, picked up the diary and read the entry Elvira had indicated. He looked up at his two visitors, nodded and then read the passage once more. When he finished reading, he leaned back with hands behind his head gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling.

  Elvira spoke, “I was reluctant to snoop into Mother’s diary, but I thought I remembered something she’d told me. There it was, plain as day. She wrote about other private things that I wouldn’t want revealed, but I felt this was important. Fred, if at all possible I’d ask that you not share this with anyone else.”

  “Of course. Now this is interesting and perhaps very important to her case, but…” He was interrupted by a gentle tap on the door. “Yes?”

  Dottie cracked the door open. “Excuse me, Mr. Douglas. There’s a gentleman here who insists on seeing you. I told him you were busy but he still insists.”

  Fred closed the diary before him, and handed it back to Elvira and sighed. Now what? I do like that young woman, but Pippen’s Grove hasn’t been quite the same since Victoria arrived. He looked up. “Go ahead and show him in Dottie.”

  The elderly gray-haired man was already pushing past the secretary as she turned. The startled woman pressed herself back to allow him to squeeze in. It was the same old man that had shown up several days earlier at the Willet house announcing he was the owner.

  “Afternoon Mr. Douglas, Mr. and Mrs. Sweeney. How’s everybody today?” he said.

  There were nods and polite smiles before Fred asked, “How exactly can I help you friend?”

  His silver head swiveled around looking for a vacant chair.

  Doc got up, and gestured towards his seat. “Please, sit down. Fred, I’ll get another chair.” Doc dragged another up to the desk and they sat watching him expectantly.

  The stranger stretched out his legs, rubbed his knees and sighed. Then he gave them all a broad smile and began. “I suppose it’s high time I let you know who I am. Then I’m going to tell you a few things about the farm that everybody ‘round here refers to as the Willet place. I think you’ll want to hear this.”

  * * *

  Jack's cell phone rang. He snatched it from his pocket, and angrily answered with a sharp, “Yes” After listening, he quickly said goodbye and closed the cell phone. His head snapped up and he looked across at Victoria. “We’ve got to go.”

  Van Wart said, “Jack, Buddy, you just got here. Come on and relax. Things aren’t as bad as you think.”

  “No, I mean it. Victoria, we’ve got to go. Now.”

  “I don’t want to go.” She sipped her wine and smiled at her two new friends. “I’m having such a nice time.”

  “Fred just called. He says he has news for us.”

  Then she remembered why she was angry with Jack and scowled at him. Turning away from him she said, "I'm staying." The nerve of that man. After what we shared yesterday. Then telling me he wasn’t ready for a commitment. On top of that, he’s been spying on me while I undress!

  “Hey, what’s so all fired important Jack?” said Van Wart. “Just calm down. Vicky wants to hang out with us for a while. I think you need to get a beer or something, sit here with us and relax.”

  “I mean it Victoria. Fred says it’s important. Let’s go.” Jack stood up.

  “I’m sure it can wait.” She was embarrassed by him raising his voice and ordering her around. She noticed the men sitting at the bar turning to see what the commotion was about. Leaning back against the padded booth, she ignored him and sipped her wine calmly before answering. “I’m going to sit here and enjoy my wine. I’d like John and Joe to stay and keep me company, unless they have somewhere else they need to be.” She gave them her most engaging smile.

  Joe put his hand on Jack’s arm, easing him back to his seat. “I’m going to buy you a beer and we’ll sit here for another minute and talk about this before you go rushing off. Where’s that waitress?” He looked around the tavern and then his gaze settled and his expression changed.

  “Uh oh, here comes trouble,” he muttered.

  They all turned to see a smirking Jonathan Van Winkle lumbering towards their booth. No one spoke. When he reached them, he stabbed a fat forefinger at Jack’s chest. “You, Conner. I want you off my farm. That property is mine and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” He turned his sinister smirk on Vicky. “The lady here can stay, just as long as she wants. I’ve got a job just for her.”

  She could sense the hot fury radiating from Jack as he moved, coiling like a steel spring. Joe reached out with both hands, pulling him back into his seat. “Take it easy Jack. No need to do something you’ll regret later.”

  Feeding off Jack's rage, her temper rose quickly. The nerve of this smirking idiot! She sat up straight, hazel eyes flashing, and spoke firmly at the top of her voice. “No Mr. Van Winkle, I don’t want to work for you. I won’t stay on the farm if you succeed in your plan to steal it from us, and Jack Conner isn’t going anywhere until I say so. Until the lawyers get things straightened out, I own that farm. Jack is my…well, he’s working there with me, and he’s not going anywhere.” She shot daggers at Van Winkle, surprising herself with the anger rising up from within. Remembering how her Italian Grandfather Buonadies would punctuate his angry outbursts, she gathered her fingers together and gestured with the back of her hand at the startled man. “Capiche?”

  Jonathan sputtered and fizzled for a minute, unsure how to respond.

  Van Wart looked as though he were enjoying this exchange immensely and waved him off dismissively, saying, “Get going Rip. Go back to sleep and stop bothering folks.”

  Jonathan swayed from side to side, trying to balance his bulk. Apparently unable to find words, he sputtered like a pressure cooker, glared at them, and stormed toward the door.

  When the door closed behind Van Winkle, all the afternoon regulars at the bar broke into a spontaneous round of applause.

  Chapter 15

  Following Jonathan Van Winkle’s retreat from Paulding’s Rest, Vicky was finally persuaded to leave.

  “Come on,” said Jack. “We need to talk about Fred’s call.”

  Sliding out of the banquette, she smiled at John and Joe as she stood up. “I had such a nice time.” Jack reached for her arm, but she jerked away from him frowning before thanking her new friends for lunch. “It was very nice of you both to let me join you.”

  “Anytime pretty lady,” said John bending to kiss her hand, ignoring Jack’s scowl.

  Joe pulled her to him and kissed her cheek. “I’ll come out to the farm to help with those flower gardens." Winking at Jack over her shoulder he murmured, "We can check out your beds. Then take a look at those old pictures, and go from there.”

  “That’d be great, and thanks again,” she said. Slipping on her sweater and gathering her things, she headed for the door.

  Jack glared at his friends, then followed her outside.

  The afternoon was still beautiful, when they stepped outside. As they walked away from the tavern, a contrite Jack said, “I’m sorry if I was a little obnoxious back there.”

  “Well you should be!” she shot back. Her long curls bounced as she jerked ahead of him.

  “Hey! You’re the one
who was flirting with those two hound dogs. You think I didn’t notice that?”

  “What business is that of yours?” She looked at him angrily, and continued walking rapidly down the sidewalk. Over her shoulder she said, “I wasn’t flirting. Your friends were just being considerate and I was making conversation. John and Joe are both very nice guys. I don’t know why you’ve got to be such a pain in my neck all the time.”

  When her sandal caught on the uneven pavement and she stumbled, Jack laughed out loud as he reached for her.

  Chagrined as she recovered herself, Vicky couldn’t help laughing too.

  Jack held her arm for a long moment as their amusement died away. They locked eyes and he murmured, “I really am sorry for all the stupid things I’ve done today. I mean that.”

  “Okay, okay. Truce?” she said, wiping her eyes.

  “Yeah truce.” Chuckling again, Jack took her arm more firmly.

  She was warming to him. Her thoughts returned to the reason she’d first been so angry with him early that morning. I can’t really blame him for peeking. Why didn’t I close those curtains? Does he really think I’m attractive? She snuck a look at his profile. What went on back there at the restaurant? If Joe hadn’t restrained him, Jack might have assaulted Van Winkle. The farm’s not his anymore. Why did he defend me anyway? Does he really care? As they walked, she remembered their love making the day before. It made her knees grow weak, and she went all warm and shivery inside. Must be the wine, she rationalized.

  They reached her car parked at the curb and turned to one another. It was then that she remembered why Jack had hustled her out of the tavern in the first place.

  “What about Fred. You said that he called and told you something. Don’t we need to go see him?”

  “Yes. It’s good news. Fred called to tell us he found some new information he wasn’t aware of just after we left his office. The bottom line is our pal Rip Van Winkle may not have a case after all. Fred told me he needs to find some more documents, only he can’t tell us yet what they are. Something about him not divulging confidential information. He was a little vague and mysterious, but said not to worry. Sounds like you may retain ownership after all.”

  “What? He just told me...” Vicky was speechless for a moment as she stared at him in consternation. Then she found her voice. “That’s all he said? What documents? Who doesn’t want us knowing what?”

  Jack shrugged. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s all I know. Hey, let’s just run around the corner and see him. Maybe he’ll give us more info if we go in person.”

  A few minutes later they were once again sitting in the lawyer's office side by side in the two chairs across from the desk. Fred’s eyebrows rose when he noticed that now they were talking and laughing together. Perfectly friendly with one another. He gave a shrug. Go figure.

  Fred tried to reassure them. "Please don't worry. There's little chance now that Jonathan Van Winkle can win this case. I can't divulge anything more at this time, but I hope that in the near future I will be able to reveal more, perhaps a good deal more. For now though, I want you to be at ease. I’m confident of a positive outcome.”

  No wiser, they left Fred’s office.

  * * *

  Jack walked slowly to his pickup, mentally reviewing the day. What exactly did Fred learn about Jonathan Van Winkle's claim? Maybe we've got a chance. At least Victoria isn't mad at me anymore. I have to admit, the way she stood up to Van Winkle was pretty cool. She might seem timid and naive, but Victoria does have a certain amount of spunk.

  Purposely, he hadn’t brought up his little indiscretions. "Man, I hope she’s forgiven me for watching her undress. What guy wouldn’t stare at a hot girl taking her clothes off? Come on!

  * * *

  Ben Cohen stayed off the road for several days after his fender bender with Jonathan Van Winkle’s pickup. Never having had an accident before, he was shaken up and hesitant to get behind the wheel again. Eventually, with his wife’s encouragement, he’d somehow found the nerve to take his Caddy into Pippen’s Grove. It’s just like getting right back up on a horse after you’ve fallen off. More you think about it harder it’ll get, he reasoned.

  His first stop was at John Van Wart’s Shell station where the mechanic assured him that the minor dents and paint loss acquired the week before could be easily fixed. Ben made a repair appointment for the following week.

  The second errand was to the Henry Hudson Grocery, where he negotiated the isles with his wife’s shopping list firmly grasped in one knobby fist. Ben Cohen was a careful shopper. He knew what items were on sale this week and could spot the clever deceptive merchandising of the manufacturers. Carefully he studied everything for expiration dates and unit pricing. He plucked cereal boxes, cans of beans and fruit from shelves, depositing them into his cart. His last stop was at the ice cream freezer where he selected cardboard tubs of chocolate, French vanilla and butter pecan. These items weren't on his wife’s written list, but rather on his own mental one. Looking closely at the labels, he vaguely wondered how long ago it was that his favorite ice cream came packaged as an actual half gallon.

  A little ice cream will be a treat, well deserved after his braving the ever more hazardous roadways. He’d explain the purchase in just those terms to Edna. He smiled; glad he’d mustered the courage to make the trip into town. These young folks nowadays just didn’t have good driving skills. Satisfied at last that he’d found everything he needed, Ben headed for the checkout.

  Ben Cohen slipped onto the leather seat behind the wheel of his Cadillac. His groceries were safely stowed in the trunk. Mentally he reviewed everything Edna had told him before he left for town. Wouldn’t want to forget anything. Inserting his key into the ignition, he started the engine and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, onto Main Street and headed home.

  Carefully he looked both ways, keeping an eye on his side-view mirrors. He congratulated himself. There, that wasn’t so difficult. Once you’re over a little initial apprehension, getting behind the wheel again is no big deal.

  Perhaps he spent too long squinting at the side view mirrors that reflected the light from a brilliant sunset, as he moved gradually over the center white line.

  * * *

  Confused by the call from Fred Douglas and the subsequent discussion with Jack and the lawyer, Vicky sat brooding in her little Toyota. What next? First, I inherit. Then, I don’t. Now, I might. This is all so confusing.

  She couldn’t help wondering about Jack. There’s a lot more to Jack Conner than I first thought. I’m probably falling in love with him. How stupid is that? Okay, I refuse to fall in love with him. Why would I love a man that can jump in bed with me and then leave as if it’s nothing to him? Women probably let him do it all the time and he’s gotten used to getting what he wants. Damn him anyway.

  Pippen’s Grove is such a serene little town. She sighed, started her car and turned the wheel. She looked up and down the street. Not much traffic tonight. Pulling onto Main Street, Vicky pressed on the accelerator and started for the farm. Squinting through the dirty windshield at the sunlight she reminded herself, “Must get this car washed.”

  As the Toyota came around a bend in the road, the last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the big Cadillac coming straight at her and the wide-eyed, open-mouthed, Ben Cohen behind the wheel as the two cars collided. She heard the metallic crunch of bumper on grill, and tinkling of broken headlight glass. What was that weird whoosh and thwump noise?

  * * *

  There were voices and other sounds. With her eyes closed, Vicky tried to make sense of it all. Where am I anyway? Then she slept.

  She opened her eyes and objects swam before her. My head hurts. Four faces stared down at her. Vicky blinked rapidly trying to focus her eyes. The faces ceased floating and attached themselves to the people standing at the end of the bed.

  That beeping sound is a hospital monitor? Am I in the hospital? Turning her head gingerly, she saw the hospital room. She
turned back and studied the faces watching her, wondering if they were going to tell her what was happening.

  It came back to her slowly. I tripped, or no, I slipped and hit my head when I fell. I remember falling. No, that’s not it either. The fall was before. What happened? I remember the old man’s face coming at me. A car accident. That’s it, but when?

  There’s Jack and the policeman. His name is Vince something or other. There’s Jimmy and that nice Dr. Sweeney smiling at me. I guess that’s a good sign. Jack and the policeman look serious, like something’s wrong. Trying to move, she realized there were things attached to her arms.

  Dr. Sweeney spoke. “Well now, glad to see you’re awake, my dear. You gave us a bit of a scare. How are you feeling?”

  Vicky opened her mouth to reply, and realized it was very dry. She tried to speak but couldn’t make a sound. Clearing her throat, she tried once more and managed to croak, “I’m okay.”

  “Wonderful. I imagine you’ve got a bit of a headache, but I’ve given you something strong for the pain. It might make you feel a little dizzy, so don’t attempt to get up without help. You’ll be bruised for a while, but there’s nothing seriously wrong. You’re going to be just fine. I don’t want you to worry, but just to be on the safe side, I’m keeping you in here overnight.”

  “In here?” she croaked.

  A grinning Jimmy replied first. “Miss Vicky, you’re in the hospital. Penny is just one floor up in the maternity ward. Vince came up and told me when the ambulance brought you into emergency, so I came on down. Jack and the Doc were already here. Glad to see you’re awake.”

  Jack came around beside her at the head of the bed, and offered her a cup of water with a paper straw. She couldn’t help but notice the concern in his eyes.

  “Your air bag deployed. Those things always give a person quite a wallop.” Jack looked tenderly at her bruises and once more handed her the water. “How do you feel?”