“So you did.” Joy filled her despite the nagging reminder she’d asked him to give her time to handle the situation herself. “When did you sneak in? I didn’t even see you here!”
He winked. “I slipped in late, took a seat near the back opposite from where you were sitting. I’ve been drivin’ all night.”
“Oh, Benny, it’s so great to see you!”
“I didn’t like how upset you sounded on the phone, so I decided I’d better get up here and give you a hand. I saw a flyer about the meeting at the deli where I stopped for coffee, and decided it’d be the best way to meet up with this Simons dude.”
“His name is Dr. Simons,” she corrected him gently.
“Okay, Dr. Simons—whatever.” The corners of his eyes creased in an amused squint.
She drew in a deep breath and exclaimed, “Oh, Benny! It’s so good to see you again,” she said once more. Her throat tightened. An old friend. A familiar face from L.A. She pulled a crumpled tissue from her pocket and dabbed at the corner of her eyes.
“Thanks, doll. And you’re looking even prettier than the day you left L.A.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “But before you start getting all female on me, we need to talk.”
“Fine. But here?”
Shaking his head, he took her by the arm and guided her off to the side, well out of ear shot from the others.
“So what’s up?”
“We need to get things rollin’, the sooner the better.”
“But we’ve already talked about that, Benny. You told me to pitch Mark the ten-thousand dollar offer, and I said I’d take care of it as soon as possible. Has something changed?”
“Sure has.” He waved one hand excitedly as he talked. “Two changes. Important ones. First, our deadline for the location shoot has been upped by a month. We’re gonna need to have all our ducks in order and know exactly where it’ll be no later than Thanksgiving—earlier if we can. Big time pressure, let me tell you.”
“Oh, no! How come?”
“The filming in Montana will be done sooner than planned. That, of course, moves up all the other projects one full notch, too. In other words, and we need to have things wrapped up here well before the winter holidays.”
“Christmas?”
“Uh-huh.” He lowered his voice. “I’ve made a decision, doll. I’ve decided I want to buy the property myself. I can give your landlord much more than he’d get on the general market—two million, cash. He’d be a fool to turn it down, and it’ll be cleaner and faster this way. We’ll have the property when we need it, and we can get Simons out of the picture altogether. No messin’ around, waitin’ and hopin’ his permits with the county will get pushed out further and further. Then later, if you’re still interested, I’ll make you a deal you can’t resist.”
She beamed. “Benny, you’re brilliant!” Yet caution soon pushed away her joy. “But what deal? What have you got in mind for me?”
“When all’s said and done, and the shoot is finally finished, I’ll sell the house back to you. Then it’ll be yours for as long as your little heart desires. Let’s face it, doll. It’s a win-win proposition.”
Rebecca took two steps back, shaking her head. “For two million dollars? I could never afford that. It’s out of the question!”
“Don’t worry. I promise you, we’ll work something out. And whether or not I do end up buying the Glasgow place, I’ll stick by my word and shell out the commission we agreed on. Nothin’s changed when it comes to that.”
“All right. But just let me talk to Mark myself, okay? Even though the terms of our offer have changed, I still want to be the one to approach him.” Her gaze turned to the stained glass window behind the altar. Dazzling sunlight backlit the image of the Good Shepherd carrying a lamb. Somehow it seemed so reassuring.
“Okay, Benny,” she continued. “I’ll do it. Maybe I can even catch him after everyone here leaves. But what if he says no?”
“Then we’re back to square one again. I’ll have to start looking for another house that resembles the old Glasgow place. Clean and simple.”
“And I’ll help you as much as I can.”
“Thanks, but don’t worry about it. You’ve already got your hands full, what with the little girl and your new job comin’ up. Besides, I’m the one whose career with the studio is at stake. It’s only fair I roll up my sleeves and give it the old heave-ho.”
“Fair enough.”
His generosity warmed her. She reached into her shoulder bag and fished out the key to her apartment. “Here, take this and make yourself comfortable. We’re in the overhead apartment, you know. Take the back stairs up to the entrance. There’s leftover chicken and plenty of cola inside the fridge. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”
“Thanks. I might just take a little snooze, too, if you don’t mind. It’s been a long haul getting here.”
“Please do. There are extra blankets on the top shelf of the bathroom closet.” She paused. “And oh by the way, after I’m done talking with Mark, I’ll have to pick up Wendy at my sister’s, so I might be a little late. Just make sure you don’t leave before I get home. We really do need to talk.”
“Don’t worry, doll.” He broke into a wide grin. “I’ll be there. You got my word on that.”
* * *
Momentarily flicking his gaze over to Rebecca, Mark noticed her talking with a man he didn’t recognize, a short guy with a beard and braid and a red bandana. The guy was a younger version of Willy Nelson himself, Mark thought with a wry grin. Still, no telling just who Rebecca might be acquainted with. Now that she’d told him all about her past association with the Hollywood scene, the possibilities seemed endless.
Mark had to admit he’d felt a twinge of—what? Could it be jealousy?—when he’d noticed the way they’d hugged each other, then talked animatedly. Could the guy be the location scout she’d mentioned earlier? Or perhaps, instead, an old boyfriend—or worse, a current one?
Mark tapped down the unsettled feelings that threatened to rear their ugly heads. He already had enough to worry about, what with the note he’d just received, without giving a second thought to Rebecca, too. Still, if anyone had the privilege of hugging her, it should be he himself, not good old Willy boy.
But no sooner had the thought formed in his mind, he pushed it back again. What was the matter with him? Why was he allowing her to get to him this way?
* * *
After Benny had left, Rebecca shifted her attention back to Mark. He was standing not far from the double front doors, smiling and chatting with the last of those who were exiting the church. Many, she’d noticed, had stormed outside without as much as acknowledging him, but a few others had lingered behind. She couldn’t help but admire him. Despite all the contention of the past hour, he’d remained right there with his engaging smile and confidant stance, making himself available to everyone who cared to greet him.
“Rebecca,” he said when she approached him, too. “Thanks for coming.” She noticed the finely etched worry lines at the corners of his eyes. “I’m assuming your car is up and running again,” he added casually, yet the look on his face betrayed him.
“Yes. Transmission problems. It’s all taken care of now, though.”
“Good. And how is Wendy? Did she and her cousin get to do everything they’d planned to on their shopping trip?”
“Wendy’s well, thanks. And yes, they had tons of fun shopping.”
Their conversation felt so perfunctory, too sterile and polite. Mark’s expression was tight with strain. Something had to be wrong; she just knew it. She hesitated, then asked under her breath, “Mark, what’s going on?”
“Uh . . . ” He glanced about, then said in a low voice, “I need to talk to you. As soon as possible. Can you hang around until I’ve had a chance to say good-bye to everyone?”
“Sure. But I’m afraid I don’t have very long.” Twisting her purse strap, she explained about Benny’s sudden appearance in town
and their agreement to meet later. “So as you can see, I’ve got to catch him before he moves on,” she added. “Benny’s often hard to track down.”
“No problem. It shouldn’t take long.” An awkward pause followed as he glanced about, then added, “We’ll need to go somewhere else, though.”
Her heart lodged in her throat. Oh, no! This was beginning to sound worse than ever. The sound of Mark’s voice jerked her back.
“This . . . er . . . this guy you called Benny,” he was saying, “is he the one you were talking to a few minutes ago inside the church?”
She nodded. “Yeah, that was Benny. The guy with the ponytail.” As preoccupied as Mark had appeared, it amazed her he’d even noticed Benny. She darted a look towards the narthex. Only a handful of people remained in small knots, visiting. Hopefully, if they still needed to chat with Mark, they’d be brief.
He checked his watch. “Don’t get lost. I’ll be right back.”
“I won’t.”
As he shoved his hand into the pocket of his sport coat, his expression tightened to a mask of stone.
* * *
A light rain pattered down on the pavement as they walked out to the parking lot behind the church and got into Rebecca’s Saturn. Mark had waited, just as he’d promised, until every person had had a chance to speak with him personally. Meanwhile, Rebecca had browsed through the tract rack, picking up one every now and again to get scan—a mere way to kill time, of course—while her heart hammered crazily.
Her thoughts ricocheted between Benny’s unexpected offer and her concern for Mark. I can’t believe it! It’s too good to be true. Benny wants to buy the Glasgow place. But oh, Mark. Whatever is the matter?
As she slipped behind the steering wheel, she angled a cautious glance at Mark in the passenger’s seat. How could Mark possibly turn down Benny’s two-million-dollar offer? He just couldn’t, no matter how important it was to him to make the Glasgow place the site for the new halfway house. Still, she’d heard the uncertainty in Mark’s voice, saw the troubled look on his face. Maybe she shouldn’t be so hopeful.
“You go first!” they blurted in unison as she settled back in her seat.
Despite the tension hanging between them, they both laughed. “Go ahead,” he urged. “Ladies first.”
“All right.” She squared her shoulders and licked her dry lips. “As I said, Benny, our location scout, is in town. He’s been a good friend for many years—a friend to both August and myself.” She hesitated while his steady dark gaze held hers.
“And?”
“And he told me during our brief conversation just a few minutes ago that our deadline has been upped. The producers want to do the film shoot in December now instead of the first of the year. So, as you can see, time is even more of the essence.” She continued outlining Benny’s proposal, growing more excited with each word. “Benny’s willing to pay you two million. Cash. I’m sure that will give you more than the seed money you need to get your project off the ground, even if it means finding another spot to do it.”
His jaw dropped. “Two million dollars?”
“Yes. It’ll be a win-win deal for all of us,” she hurried on, echoing Benny’s words. “Please, Mark. Please say you’ll do it. And if you have any questions, he said to tell you he’s more than willing to speak with you.”
“But what about you? I thought you wanted to buy the property.”
“I do. And Benny assures me he’ll sell it to me after the shoot has been completed.” She frowned, still wondering how she’d ever manage to pull that off.
The silence that followed could have lasted an eternity. “I can’t agree to it, Rebecca,” he finally answered in a choked voice. “It just won’t work. Granted, the offer is tempting, but I’m afraid it’s too late to change my plans. I’m already too far into the process with the county to pull out now. Nor do I want to. It’s essential I have the halfway house up and running by next spring, and if I have to start all over again, it’s not going to happen.”
“Not even for two million dollars?”
“No. I have faith that God’s plan will be accomplished through the pledges and grant moneys, even though the outcome is still uncertain.”
“So it looks as if nothing’s going to change your mind,” she answered, her voice trailing.
“Try to understand, if you can. I have to move forward. I can’t start over again.”
Wordlessly, she nodded. What could she say? There was no stopping the man. His mind was made up. And he was apparently convinced that God’s mind was, too. Biting her lip, she pondered how she might break the news to Benny. She felt as if she were sinking in a mire of quicksand.
She swallowed hard, trying to keep her disappointment at bay. Eventually she would have to reconcile herself with the reality the house would be destroyed, no matter how much it broke her heart.
“Okay, then,” she finally said. “I guess that’s that. Benny will have to start looking for another place right away, but he and I’ve already talked about that possibility. Fortunately, there’s a back-up plan. Not a real concrete plan,” she added, “but a plan nevertheless.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’ll manage.” She bit her lip and asked, “Your turn, Mark. What is it you need to tell me?”
His voice was ragged. “I received disturbing news during the meeting . . . while I was collecting the questions from the basket that the ushers passed around.”
Startled, her gaze flew to his.
“Oh?”
“Yes. Uh . . . by any chance, did you notice me ignore the last question I pulled out?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Good. Because if you didn’t, maybe that means no one else did, too. No one, other than the one who wrote it, that is.”
“What are you talking about, Mark?”
“There’s been a threat to my property,” he replied grimly.
“The old Glasgow place?”
“Uh-huh. Whoever wrote the note must really have it in for me. By hosting the meeting, I was hoping to diffuse the antagonism altogether.” He sighed. “But I guess I failed.”
She felt her heart racing with growing fear as he reached into his jacket pocket, extracted a white note card, folded in half, and handed it to her. “See for yourself.”
Dr. Simons, it read in cramped, printed penmanship. Be advised. You may insist on forcing your dictatorial will on us, but it will never happen. I intend to wreak every kind of havoc on you and the old Glasgow house as I can manage. As for the details, they will be made known to you in due time. Meanwhile, until I accomplish what I’ve set out to do, know that eyes are watching you. Do not, in any way, inform the police or any other law enforcement authority. Burn this note as soon as you’ve read it, then tread softly and determine to give up your fight. I assure you, it’s not worth the grief it will cause you.
Rebecca felt sick. Exhaling deeply, she knotted a hand against her chest. “Oh, no,” she moaned softly. “How could anyone do this? And why? What could this possibly mean?”
“I’m not sure, but I am convinced, you and Wendy aren’t safe living there any longer. You must leave. As soon as possible. And we must also cancel the tours.”
“I think we’re overreacting,” she said with a sudden surge of unexpected confidence. “Read it again, Mark.” She thrust the note back into his hands. “This is clearly not a death warning. Someone—or maybe more than just one—is simply amusing himself by trying to keep you on edge. Until I have more solid proof that Wendy’s or my life is at stake, I’m not budging. Someone is playing head games with you. And you, of all people, should know how to fight back.”
“Maybe you’re right. But please, Rebecca.” The shadows and light etched his face, highlighting his determination as well as his compassion. A current of emotions, deep and confusing, stirred inside of her. “Please promise me if anything threatening does occur,” he continued, “something that poses a danger to either you or your daughter, you’ll leave i
mmediately.”
“All right.” She offered him a trembling smile. “But I still don’t believe that’s going to happen.”
“You’ve been away for almost a decade now. This might no longer be the small, idyllic town you always thought it was.”
“Believe me,” she protested with a wave of her hand, “after losing August the way I did, if I really thought there was any danger, I’d be packing my bags this very moment. There’s no way I’d allow anything to compromise the safety of my little girl.”
“Okay. But just don’t breathe a word about any of this. The quieter we keep it, the better.” His voice was smooth but insistent. “Meanwhile, I have a plan. It’ll give me a chance to keep a closer eye on things.”
“Uh . . . what?”
“I’m going to move into the caretaker’s quarters.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re what?”
“I’m going to move into the caretaker’s quarters,” he repeated calmly. “First chance I can. Maybe even tomorrow after church, if I can rent a truck in time.”
She inhaled, then let her breath out. How could she argue? He was the property owner, after all.
“It’s a very doable plan, actually,” he continued. “I want to help out Pastor Al by offering my condo to the visiting missionaries who are due to arrive soon. Housing is always critical. And since the guesthouse is so small, I won’t have to haul much over there. Just a little furniture, clothing, a few pots and pans . . . and Bandit, of course.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Bottom line is, Bandit needs a pal as much as Wendy does. Besides, now that we know you probably won’t be getting a corgi any time soon, what’s wrong with a cocker spaniel, instead?”
She smiled up into his sparkling, dark eyes—eyes that teased and caressed all at the same time. Oh, how easily it would be to drown in those deep, deep pools. “Uh . . . is there anything I can do to help you get settled?”
“No, but thanks anyway. Friends from church have already offered to give me a hand.”
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