by Dee Burks
“I used to be afraid you would show up one day and be totally disgusted with what I’d become,” she said, her voice choked with emotion.
Arlene shook her head. “Even when you were a teenage nightmare, I was still proud of you. That you had an opinion and stood up for yourself no matter what.”
Serena laughed through her tears. “I was a nightmare wasn’t I?”
“There were times I didn’t know if you needed an intervention or an exorcism.”
“Both probably.” Serena let go of her mother’s hand and stood. “Wait here.” She got her purse from the living room and took out the cross. The small piece of silver was a precious memento that she no longer felt right keeping. It belonged to her mother.
Serena’s heart tugged as she handed the heirloom to Arlene. Though it had been a symbol of past hurt to her for so long, she’d come to cherish it deeply in the past two days.
Arlene graced the cross with a loving gaze. “I knew you’d keep it safe.”
“Macy told me what the inscription means.”
“My heart lies within you,” Arlene whispered.
“Yes.” Hearing her mother utter the words made Serena believe. The cross was like a lifeline that tethered their hearts together, no matter what emotions swirled around them in this crisis or any other. The bond refused to be broken. “I feel terrible that I’ve had it all these years and had no idea how much you treasured it. I want you to have it back.”
Arlene glanced up. “No, this is yours.” She pushed it across the table to her.
“But…”
“Serena,” Arlene gave her a piercing gaze. “When you give your heart away, it never comes back. I loved you before you took your first breath and will continue until I take my last. Someday you’ll understand and want to pass this on to someone you love.”
Serena reached out and touched the object, allowing the truth of Arlene’s words to sink in. This small piece of silver tied her to all she had ever loved and all she would love in the future. Serena took the long chain and slipped it over her head. The cross lay on her chest above her heart.
Arlene smiled. “It looks perfect.”
Serena accepted the compliment and the forgiveness. They were very much alike. Arlene had patiently waited all these years, stood in the wings observing Serena and her son. Like watching a movie, she could see and hear but never participate. How had she done it all this time? Arlene said she had admired Serena’s strength once; now Serena admired hers. She couldn’t comprehend having the grace to stand back and watch someone she loved live her life, make her mistakes, grow away from her. She peered at her mother as Arlene focused on the paperwork once again.
Picking up the stack of bank statements, Serena noticed small detailed notes that had been made on several of them. She held one up. “Is this your handwriting?”
Arlene tilted her head back to see the writing through her glasses. “Yes. I told Tyler he should get copies of all the checks. It was hard to tell what had been paid, or if some had been double paid. The checks are out of sequence. Do you know if he ordered them?”
“Yes, he did.” Tyler’s sleepy voice drifted down the hall. He appeared a moment later, hair sticking up and sheet wrinkles still pressed into the side of his face. “Hey, Arlene.” He smiled at her. She gave him a wink that seemed to convey a kind of secret communication. Serena liked the fact that Arlene had warmed to Tyler, even approved of him in a way.
“I thought you were sleeping,” Serena said.
“I was, but my stomach wasn’t.” He grabbed a box of Justin’s cereal and filled a bowl, topping it off with milk before joining them at the table. “The checks are over there,” he said, pointing to the living room.
Sitting atop the rolltop desk were two stacks of fat envelopes. Serena hadn’t even noticed them in all the excitement. Arlene retrieved them and opened the envelopes, one by one.
Tyler struggled to grip his spoon in his bandaged hand, dripping milk and cereal as he took several sloppy bites.
“Do you need some help?” Serena asked.
“I got it.” The distance in his voice was still there. Wincing as he took the next bite, Tyler laid the spoon on the table and tipped the bowl to his mouth.
“It will take a little time to get through all the checks,” Arlene said. “But it can be done.”
“Why don’t you start marking off the checks and I’ll start posting the daily deposits into the profit and loss?” Serena suggested.
“Have you seen any insurance yet?” Tyler asked.
Silence descended. Serena hated to tell him no and add more stress to what he already carried.
“Not yet, but we’re still looking.” Arlene obviously tried to give her statement a positive tone.
The doorbell rang, and work temporarily halted as Serena let Jeff in.
“Good, you’re up.” He frowned at Tyler’s disheveled appearance. “Sort of.”
Tyler shrugged off the comment.
“How was Chelsie?” Serena asked.
“Emotional, but I think she’s all right. Jim stayed home today.” His gaze focused on Arlene. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Jeff, this is my mother, Arlene. She’s a bookkeeping wizard.”
Arlene basked in the compliment. “I don’t know about wizard, but I do my best.”
“Jeff is Tyler’s brother from Dallas,” Serena continued. “And his attorney.”
Jeff glanced at the stacks of papers still on the table. “Find anything yet?”
“No, we’re going over the bank statements now.”
Arlene brought one check closer to her glasses. “Tyler, who is Cynthia Gervasi?”
He thought a minute. “I don’t know, never heard of her.”
“Hmmm.” Arlene set it aside and continued sorting through the checks.
“I thought we might go down to the restaurant and talk to the fire marshal.” Jeff directed his comments to Tyler. “Maybe they know more by now.”
Tyler pushed back and stood. “Yeah, maybe.” He shuffled down the hall to get dressed.
He didn’t seem any better at all. In fact Serena thought he’d slipped even further into depression. She glanced at Jeff, whose expression mirrored her worry. “Do you think I should go?”
“If you want, but I’m keeping him busy until we get some answers.”
Chapter 33
Jeff parked his Mercedes across the street from the blackened shell that only yesterday had been JT’s. The three walked across and stood on the sidewalk in silence staring at the devastation. Tyler leaned back and gazed at the sky that stretched unobstructed between the neighboring buildings.
The stores to the left and right still sported their historic charm and genteel grace, unlike JT’s, which perched like a rotten cavity amid perfection. Yellow caution tape encircled the burned area, and police guards stood by as several men sifted through the rubble.
Detective Rossnagle observed the activity inside the building and now moved over to their small group. “Mr. Cooper.” He acknowledged Tyler and held out a hand to Jeff. Tyler made quick introductions.
Rossnagle showed immediate interest at Serena’s name. “I’d planned to contact you this morning, Miss Finley. I have a few questions for you.” The man produced a small notebook and pen from his pocket.
Serena turned an annoyed glare on the detective. “Like?”
“Where were you when the fire started?”
“At home.”
Tyler detected a slight timbre in her voice. He knew it like snake’s rattle, a warning. He watched Rossnagle closely. The man didn’t even seem to notice. Some detective.
“By yourself?”
“With Tyler.”
Rossnagle jotted something down and then looked at her. “And what were you doing?”
Serena gave the detective a saccharin sweet smile. “Enjoying each other’s company.”
Warning number two. Tyler glanced at Jeff, who sensed the impending storm too and struggled to keep
from smiling.
“Which involved what?”
Serena narrowed her eyes and the small man, “Hot sweaty sex.”
The detective made notes calmly though small beads of perspiration appeared across his bald scalp. “So you were together the entire evening.”
The saccharin smile was back. “Yes, detective, Mr. Cooper has fabulous stamina.” Serena produced a business card from her purse. “If you have any other questions, you may contact my office and set up an appointment.” Her brushoff was smooth but no nonsense.
Detective Rossnagle looked relieved to have an escape from this particular line of questioning. “I’ll be in touch.”
Serena turned her back on him and focused once again on the men combing through the ashes.
Tyler grinned at Jeff. “I’m beginning to think a female pit bull beats a lawyer any day.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re right.”
Serena gave them both the same smile she’d given the detective. “Problem, gentlemen?”
“No problem here,” Tyler chuckled.
“I’m going to take a little walk, see if I can find out anything.” Jeff strolled down the sidewalk. Serena and Tyler followed slowly, giving themselves some privacy.
Tyler scanned the rubble, recognizing small bits and pieces. A partially scorched chair covered with melted red vinyl. The old ice machine, its stainless steel covered in black soot, and the jukebox, its window clouded with brown smoke residue. The place seemed as familiar as an old friend, yet as alien as a lunar landscape.
Tyler bent down and picked up one of the horseshoes that had once been tacked to the wall. Most were shoes his and Matt’s horses had worn during their rodeo days. It was the only physical connection he had left to his friend. Now that, too, had been irrevocable altered. He tossed the metal into the rubble producing a small plume of ash. This time he had no trinkets, no souvenirs, no reminders. The past was completely and totally gone. In the space of a few hours, all traces of what once was had been wiped from the earth, but not from his memory. He rubbed the soot on his jeans and turned away.
Serena’s worried expression greeted him. Looping an arm around her shoulder, he gave a squeeze.
“What are you going to do if we don’t find any insurance?” she whispered.
“Start over I guess.”
“With what?”
Good question, and one he’d thought about a lot because right now he didn’t have a pot to piss in. “Hope.”
She smiled and swung her arm around his waist as they walked. Jeff met them at the end of the sidewalk.
“They couldn’t say much, but they’re still looking awfully hard. I have to think they haven’t found anything out of the ordinary, yet.”
A white rental car pulled to a stop in front of them. A man in a suit stepped out, looking completely out of place in what was quickly ascending to 100 degree heat. He walked toward Detective Rossnagle. Tyler saw the detective point in their direction. The man approached with the cop tagging along like an eager puppy.
“Are you the owner?” The man looked at Serena.
She shook her head.
“I am. Tyler Cooper.”
“James Teague.” He shook Tyler’s bandaged hand carefully. “I’m investigating an insurance claim on JT’s restaurant.”
Serena gave an excited squeal. “Oh, Tyler, there’s insurance.”
Jeff frowned. “You’ve already received a claim?”
Teague hesitated. “Yes, but maybe my information was incorrect.” He pulled a paper from his pocket. “I have the owner as one Krista Langford, and her attorney called in the claim late last night.”
“That’s some quick service.” Tyler stood stunned at the possibility that this might be his salvation.
“It’s a big claim,” Teague said.
“How big?” Rossnagle pulled out his note pad.
“Two million dollars.”
Three people stared at the man in silence, while Rossnagle scribbled.
Chapter 34
Jeff drove back to Serena’s. Tyler was completely dumbfounded at the possibility that Krista could have taken out an insurance policy and then burned JT’s to the ground. He’d assigned her all kinds of evil attributes in his mind during the past year, but most of her faults were miniscule compared to this.
“Teague said the policy was taken out six months ago, so it would have been after the first of the year.” Jeff tried to piece the puzzle together. “When did she show back up?”
“Late April.” Krista never had the ability to pick what shoes to wear let alone plan something six months in advance. Maybe she hadn’t planned it at all. Maybe someone else had. “Her lawyer probably had something to do with it.”
“And that’s another thing,” Jeff said. “I called a colleague in San Antonio to check out Mark Ricca. He had never even heard of him, so he must not have a practice there. Ricca has to be from somewhere else. And I know a two million dollar policy isn’t cheap. I wonder where Krista would ever get that kind of money?”
Tyler searched his memory. “Her Granny is pretty well off, but she never gave Krista a dime that I know of.” The old woman had called Krista an irresponsible airhead the last time Tyler saw her. She was right, too. At least about the irresponsible part. But if it was true that Krista planned or even helped plan a con involving two million dollars, the airhead part might not be accurate.
Tyler glanced at Serena. It felt awkward talking about Krista in front of Serena, but she didn’t seem bothered by it at all. She gave him a smile.
“Maybe the old lady gave some money to someone else.” Jeff stared at the road.
“Like?”
“Didn’t you say Ricca had Krista’s power of attorney?”
“Yeah.”
“Why would she hand over her power of attorney like that unless there was a good reason?”
Serena finally spoke. “Maybe he convinced her grandmother that he was managing Krista’s money for her.”
Tyler nodded. It made perfect sense. Granny Langford was always after Krista to find a good man. One that could take care of her. And to her, that meant money. Tyler hadn’t impressed the old woman much, but Mark Ricca would have fit Granny’s idea of perfection to a tee.
Jeff dropped Tyler and Serena off at her house and left to stay the night at Chelsie’s. Darkness had fallen, and they made their way up the sidewalk to the porch where June bugs danced and swerved in the light. Peering through the front window, Tyler could see Arlene at the table where she and Serena had spent the better part of the day. “She’s still at it.”
Serena smiled. “Isn’t she great?”
Tyler agreed. One of the few good things that had happened today was the reconciliation between Serena and her mother. He was glad for both of them.
As they walked through the front door, Arlene looked up. “How was the fact-finding mission?”
“Slim.” Tyler said.
Printouts lay in neat piles on the table. Serena picked one up and frowned.
Tyler glanced over her shoulder. “Did you finish?”
“Yes, but it’s very odd.” Arlene said. “Are you sure you don’t know this Cynthia Gervasi?”
“No. Why?”
Serena turned the laptop around where they could both see the screen. She pointed. “Look at all these checks to her.”
“With increasing amounts each month,” Arlene added. “And the profit and loss shows that the restaurant has been making money hand over fist.”
Tyler stared at the numbers. His intuition had been right. The volume had been up substantially the last few months. He had been so busy he hadn’t had a chance to look at the numbers, but his gut told him he’d been making a bundle. “So where’s the money?”
“With this person.” Arlene handed him a fat stack of checks. “Someone’s been robbing you blind.”
Tyler flipped through them, one by one. Different dates, different amounts, all made out to Cynthia Gervasi.
“As
near I can tell, someone had a duplicate set of checks to this account.”
Tyler’s blood boiled, “Krista.”
Serena scanned the dates that Arlene had posted for the checks. “Not unless she’s been doing it for almost a year.”
Tyler stared at the dates.
“Who else would have been able to write checks for you?”
He thought a minute. “Well, no one. Lydia used to write some of them out when we really needed to pay something, but I always signed them.”
Arlene and Serena shared a knowing glance. “Tyler, do you think Lydia could have done this?” Serena asked.
Tyler’s stomach felt like a sledge hammer had landed on it. How could he have missed something this big? He’d paid attention when the bills were made out and had never seen this person’s name. Not once. “Why would she? They aren’t made out to her.” Lydia had always been honest and upfront about everything. She wasn’t great in the people skills department, but that didn’t make her a thief.
“It may be a friend or relative of hers,” Arlene suggested. “Did anyone other than you two pay bills out of this account?”
“No.”
“But it could have been anyone that got hold of a second checkbook, right?” Serena asked.
“I already thought about that.” Arlene came around the table and motioned to the screen. “You see how they’re made out in different amounts?”
Tyler had noticed. Odd.
“It looks like someone made out checks for you to sign to the vendors, then replaced those checks with ones of a similar amount made out to this Gervasi woman.” Arlene handed him a bank statement. “See how the checks you wrote are out of sequence?”
He nodded.
“I would guess they destroyed yours and ran through those instead. So while the restaurant kept gaining more customers and selling more, you got further and further behind with your vendors. It had to be someone who knew those amounts to begin with. And if she was the one getting the mail and answering the phone, she could have kept you in the dark for quite a while.”