A Distant Memory

by Traci DePree

  That evening, Kate stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom and slipped on her low sling-back heels. They were meeting Caitlin and Bobby Evans at the Bristol for dinner at seven. Paul was in the bathroom. She could hear the buzz of his shaver. She glanced at her watch—6:50.

  “Are you almost ready?” she called. “I don’t want to make them wait.”

  Paul came out just then, rubbing aftershave on his clean cheeks. He wore a striped, button-down shirt and sharp-looking navy trousers.

  “Don’t you look nice?” Kate let out a low whistle.

  Paul stopped in his tracks and perused his wife. “I have to keep up with the missus,” he said, quirking a brow.

  Kate laughed and took her husband’s arm as they headed to the car. How was it that after more than thirty years of marriage, he still managed to make her feel warm inside, just by looking at her?

  “I had a good talk with Nehemiah yesterday,” Paul ventured as he backed out of the driveway.

  “How is he?” Kate smiled as she thought about their dear friend, who knew how to offer kindness along with the occasional, well-deserved reprimand.

  “Feisty,” Paul said. “He’s been giving the cooks lessons on how to spice up the food at Orchard Hill.”

  Kate laughed.

  “He buys fresh herbs and brings them into the kitchen.”

  “He always was a teacher,” Kate said. “It makes perfect sense that he’d teach the cooks too.”

  They paused in comfortable silence.

  “Are you about done with your stained-glass pieces for the arts show?” Paul asked.

  Kate sighed. She’d been too busy to get much accomplished lately, though she had some projects she’d made earlier to sell. “I think I have enough, and hopefully I can get Caitlin on board, even if for just a painting or two. It’d be good for her,” she said, her attention more on the events of the previous day than on the arts festival.

  Then she said, “I’ve found some possible leads on the car in the photo.”

  Paul glanced at her. “That’s good news.”

  The Hamilton Springs Hotel came into view ahead. The two-story brick hotel, formerly known as the Copper Creek Hotel, had been recently restored as a major tourist attraction. It brought in not only a fair share of yuppies looking to gawk at the locals, but also plenty of jobs and income for the residents of Copper Mill.

  The Evans’ red Suburban was parked near the entrance. Paul pulled the Honda alongside it, and they made their way inside. Wide double doors opened onto a massive foyer with a large spiral staircase that wound its way up to the floor above. The Bristol was to the left of the foyer. The restaurant’s honey-colored hardwood floors gleamed warmth, and thick beams lined the ceiling.

  When the seating host asked if they had reservations, Kate noticed Caitlin sitting alone at a table in the corner. “She’s with our party,” she told the hostess, gesturing toward the younger woman.

  Caitlin raised a hand in greeting when she saw them, and a smile broke onto her face.

  “You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Kate said, reaching to give her a hug and taking the seat next to her, while Paul took the chair opposite Kate.

  “No, not long,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve been enjoying the view.” She pointed to the pond out back, where geese were swimming in lazy circles in the fading sunlight.

  “Is Bobby here?” Paul asked. He turned to look toward the entrance.

  “He called to say he’s going to be a little late,” Caitlin said, adding a sigh. “Something came up at the church.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Kate said with a wink at Paul.

  But Caitlin didn’t say anything. Hurt filled her eyes, and she glanced away.

  “Are you upset?” Paul asked.

  Caitlin laughed mirthlessly. “I’m so used to this from him. I shouldn’t be upset, should I?”

  Kate patted the younger woman’s hand.

  Caitlin sighed. “I was really looking forward to tonight.”

  “Tonight isn’t ruined,” Kate reassured her. “When did he say he was going to be able to make it?”

  Caitlin shrugged. She glanced toward the entrance.

  Kate understood what Caitlin was going through. She’d felt that same sense of loneliness at various points in her marriage, wondering if everyone else in the church mattered more to Paul than she did. It wasn’t until he set up some ground rules for himself that things started to turn around. He didn’t just say “I love you”; he showed that he loved her by setting time aside every day for her and the children.

  “It sounds so selfish,” Caitlin was saying. “He’s the pastor. Helping everyone is what he’s supposed to do. I knew that when I married him.”

  “But you matter too,” Kate said.

  Caitlin closed her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped the moisture away and reached for a tissue from her purse.

  “I love Bobby,” she went on, “and I know that he loves me and the kids.” She shook her head. “But lately, it’s gotten worse, ever since the children’s ministry coordinator resigned to have her baby. I’ve tried to talk to him about letting someone else do that work, and I help him when I can, but we have two boys of our own to raise.”

  She pushed her hair back from her face and smiled at Kate, then Paul. “I’m sorry. We haven’t even ordered our food, and already I’m dumping all this on you,” she said.

  “I know how you feel,” Kate said. “When Paul and I were first married, we had to learn the same lesson about balancing life and work, especially in the ministry, when it’s so easy to let others take priority over your own family.”

  Caitlin dabbed at her eyes, then looked to Paul.

  “So, how do I get Bobby’s attention? I’ve tried talking to him, and he just brushes it aside.” Then she lowered her voice. “Our kids, our marriage has been suffering for months now. There have been times when I’ve thought about...” She stopped and shook her head. Kate guessed that the end of the sentence wouldn’t have been happy.

  “I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad,” Paul admitted.

  “Yeah, it’s bad,” Caitlin said. “He never takes a break. And the funny thing is, the people in the church, the ones he’s trying so hard to be there for, have commented to me that he seems frustrated, not himself.”

  “That’s not uncommon.” Paul took a sip of his water. Finally the waiter arrived to take their order. “We’re waiting for someone,” Paul informed him. The waiter promised to return once Bobby arrived.

  “People need their rest,” Paul went on once the waiter left the table. “We might be working harder without it, but often we’re just spinning our wheels. It’s why God created that seventh day, so we could recharge. It’s essential to good health...and good ministry.”

  Kate studied the young mother. Shadowed, red eyes attested to her own lack of rest, no doubt from carrying the load of work at home alone for so long. “Do you do anything that’s just for you?” Kate asked kindly. “Like your painting?”

  Fresh tears made Caitlin’s eyes glisten. “I used to paint a lot for fun, but now, with the boys, I just don’t make the time to play with it anymore.”

  Just then, a thought occurred to Kate. “I’m teaching a stained-glass workshop on Friday evenings. I’ve only had one session so far. You could join us, if you’re interested.”

  “Really?” Caitlin said, interest lighting her face. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to do that.”

  Her reaction was just what Kate was hoping for. “Wonderful! It starts at seven at my house.”

  “Okay.” The young woman smiled.

  Kate reached to take a sip of her water, when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a couple entering the restaurant. She glanced up to see that it was Brad and Judy. Brad pulled out a chair for Judy as they took an intimate table for two in a dark corner. Kate’s eyes widened, and she looked at Paul. He must’ve seen them too, given the shocked expression on his face. Brad leaned
close to talk to Judy, and she smiled into his eyes. Kate’s stomach rolled over at the sight.

  Sonja had been missing almost two weeks, and Brad and Judy were already on a date? Or had they been dating before her disappearance?

  Chapter Twenty

  Bobby finally arrived. He kissed his wife on the top of the head and said, “Sorry I’m late.”

  Kate could see by Caitlin’s stiff body language that she was still upset.

  He took the seat opposite his wife and looked at the menu just as the waiter came by to take their order.

  Kate glanced back at Judy and Brad, who were immersed in conversation. “One of the board members wanted to go over the curriculum order for vacation Bible school before I placed it,” Bobby was saying in explanation for his lateness.

  Kate wondered if the meeting couldn’t have waited for the next day during business hours.

  “So what have I missed?” Bobby asked.

  Kate glanced at the younger pastor’s wife. She could see the answer to Bobby’s question written all over Caitlin’s face: he’d missed far too much.

  THE IMAGE OF BRAD AND JUDY at the Bristol haunted Kate the rest of the evening and into the morning. The way Brad leaned toward Judy to catch her every word, the way she smiled into his eyes. It wasn’t right, not so soon after Sonja’s disappearance.

  And given Kate’s suspicions regarding the newly established life-insurance policy and the arguments between Sonja and Brad, it was seeming more and more likely that Judy might have played a role in what had happened to Sonja. But what kind of role? Could she have been in cahoots with the man in purple?

  She glanced at the list of car owners she needed to call. She had to look into those, but with this new realization that more was going on between Brad and Judy, she thought she should pursue this first.

  Brad had been out of town on at least two occasions, but he’d seemed secretive about it, both with Kate and with the kids. Had he been meeting Judy somewhere? Perhaps—and this thought gave her the chills—they had Sonja somewhere. Visions of the pretty mother and wife sequestered in some remote location rose up, and Kate pushed them down. She had no evidence that any such scenario existed.

  She dialed the Weavers’ home phone to talk to Brad. He answered on the third ring.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Hey, Kate,” he said, his voice sounding tired. “What can I do for you?”

  She hedged, wanting to ask about his trips but not sure how to bring it up. “I thought maybe I could bring supper by this afternoon.”

  “Oh,” he said, “that’s so kind of you. I’m heading out of town in about half an hour. Be gone all day, but the kids will be here.”

  Bingo. “I could drop something by before you head out,” Kate said, quickly deciding on a simple Crock-Pot meal to take over.

  “That’s really thoughtful of you,” he said. He thanked her again and hung up.

  Kate’s heart started racing as she threw ingredients for a chicken-and-rice dinner—essentially cream of mushroom soup, rice, chicken, salt and pepper, and a little water—into the Crock-Pot, then headed over to the Weavers’.

  Brad looked slightly surprised when he answered the door.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” he said.

  “I wanted to. Besides”—she smiled easily at him—“I haven’t seen you in a while. I wanted to make sure you’re doing all right. Is Brian feeling better?”

  “He’s fine.” He reached for the Crock-Pot and motioned for her to follow him to the kitchen, where he set it on the counter. “What do I put this on?” he asked. “I’ve never used one of these before.”

  “Low is good,” Kate replied. “It’ll be bubbling hot by the time the kids want to eat tonight.”

  Brad scratched his head. “Smart invention. I should use Sonja’s...”

  “So,” Kate changed the subject. “Where you headed to today?”

  “Oh...” He hesitated, and his eyes shifted slightly. “Just to Chattanooga.” Kate could tell he was hiding something. “Job interviews,” he added. He glanced at his watch and reached for the suit jacket that lay draped over a chair. “Speaking of...”

  “You need to go,” Kate finished.

  He nodded, so she said farewell. She drove around the block and waited behind a large utility truck on their street so Brad wouldn’t see her Honda when he pulled out.

  Within a few minutes, he pulled out of his driveway and headed east. Kate was careful to follow at a distance, just close enough to see where he was going, but far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to tell she was following him. He pulled onto the interstate and moved along at just above the speed limit. Kate was glad for the heavier traffic that shielded her from view. She tucked her car behind a large semi and cruised along until they reached the Chattanooga city limits.

  Brad took an exit that led to the business district. He wended through the busy streets, finally parking in front of a three-story office building. Kate slowed her car to watch him, circled the block for a spot, then got out and walked toward the building.

  The elevator doors in the front lobby were just closing, with a lone Brad aboard, when she peeked through the plate-glass window. The light panel above the elevator indicated that the car had stopped on the top floor, so Kate skimmed the directory to study what was housed in the space.

  The sign read “Seaver, Wilson, and Penland, Attorneys at Law.” Attorneys? Kate paused to consider. Brad was visiting a lawyer? What for? To settle Sonja’s will? Or did it have something to do with getting at the insurance money? It was a distinct possibility.

  She quickly jotted the address in her notepad and went back to her car, which she repositioned on the street for a better view of Brad’s car. Then she dialed information and asked for the number of the law office, which she also jotted down.

  Brad returned to his car well over an hour later. He didn’t seem to be in any hurry to head to his next destination. His head was bent as if he was reading something. Kate dialed the number for the law office that she’d jotted down.

  “Seaver, Wilson, and Penland, how can I help you?” a stuffy-nosed voice answered.

  “Yes,” Kate said, knowing full well that attorney-client privilege would keep her from learning any specifics about Brad’s business there. “I’m wondering what sort of law you specialize in?”

  “We specialize in bankruptcy and foreclosure.”

  Kate was beyond stunned. Bankruptcy? Foreclosure?

  Were the Weavers in danger of losing everything? Her mind flashed to the phone calls Becky and Brian had received, a man who called every day asking for Brad or Sonja. A collections call?

  Kate thanked the woman and hung up. She turned the ignition key, waiting to see where Brad would go next. He pulled out and drove several blocks before parking in front of another office building, this one for “First Financial Investments of Chattanooga.”

  Kate waited in her car this time, dialing information again for the phone number of the place and saving it on her cell phone. She didn’t want to call while he was there. After a good half hour, he reemerged and climbed into his car, where it looked as if he was making phone calls.

  When he pulled away from the curb, he headed north. Kate waited for a pickup truck to move between them before pulling out, then she reached for her cell phone and dialed First Financial, the place Brad had just left.

  A male voice answered.

  “Hello,” Kate said, “I’m looking for Brad Weaver. Did he have an appointment today?”

  “Oh, you just missed him,” the deep voice said. “He was here for a job interview.”

  Kate thanked the man and hung up. At least that much of Brad’s story had been true.

  KATE GOT HOME a little before three o’clock. After his initial visit, Brad had gone on a series of what seemed like job interviews, so she’d left Chattanooga. She’d purposely driven past Hamilton Road Florist to see if Judy’s car was there. It was, so she felt confident that the two hadn’t
planned to rendezvous in the city.

  She pulled out her laptop and booted it up the second she got home. She typed in “foreclosure” and “Harrington County,” wondering if such a listing could be found online. Within minutes, a page of newspaper foreclosure listings appeared for the area. Kate scanned the page looking for a home on the Weavers’ street.

  Kate inhaled sharply. There it was: the stunning home on the beautiful property. No wonder Brad was exhausted: in addition to losing his wife, he might also be losing his house. What a burden for one man to carry. Did this add to his motive for taking out the insurance policy on Sonja? Or was he just stuck in a series of horrible events?

  Picking up the phone, Kate dialed Brad’s cell number. It rang several times before he answered.

  “Brad,” Kate began.

  “Hey, Kate.” He sounded dragged down, discouraged.

  Kate’s heart broke for him. She wondered how his job interviews had gone. “Brad, is your house in foreclosure?”

  Silence spread between them.

  “I only found out about it this week,” he said, “but Sonja had been getting notices for quite some time. I’m going to talk to the bank about an extension. Did you read it in the paper?”

  “Online,” Kate confirmed. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning? Maybe there’s something we can do.”

  “I felt too...ashamed,” he replied with a sigh. “Sonja managed all of our household finances. If I’d realized she’d let it get to this point, I’d have taken over a long time ago. She tried to tell me.” He paused. “She did. I thought we had a good amount in savings, but we’d spent it all.”

  “She was trying to protect you?” Kate guessed.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She could hear Brad choke up. “I’m sorry for all of this,” she said. “You’ve gone through so much already.”

  “But this was avoidable. If I’d done my job, stayed on top of things...” Self-recrimination tinged his voice.

  “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “Unless you can pay my mortgage off, I don’t think there’s a whole lot anyone can do,” he said.