by V. M. Burns
Stephanie leaned against the counter and pulled out her phone. She sent several text messages and eventually put her phone away and walked to the sofa. “Mom, are you okay?” She sat beside me.
“Why would anyone do this?”
Officer Lewis walked over. “Can you tell if anything’s been stolen?”
I stared at him as though he were speaking a foreign language. “Stolen? You must be kidding.” I spread my hands. “I have no idea in all of this mess.”
He must have sensed I was on edge because he didn’t press the point. “Mrs. Echosby, do you have any idea what the perpetrator could have been looking for?”
Again, I stared and shook my head. “I’ve only been here a few days. I don’t know what they think I could have of value in the flour or sugar canisters.” I stared at Joe. “Is there some drug that kids make from flour and dog food?”
He shook his head.
“Then why?” I spread my arms wide to encompass the totality of the devastation.
“Mrs. Echosby, do you have any enemies?”
“What about that crazy neighbor you hit?” Stephanie asked.
I shook my head but then stopped.
“What?” Lewis asked. “You hit someone?”
“No.” I shook my head. “Well, yes, I did hit him, but I don’t think he would...”
“Maybe you should tell me about this man.” He stood, pen and notepad poised to write down everything.
I hesitated.
“If you know of anyone who has anything against you, we need to know.”
I told Officer Lewis about the altercations I’d had with Theodore Livingston. The moment I mentioned his name, a look of recognition and something else crossed his face. When I was done, Officer Lewis rubbed the back of his neck.
“Theodore Livingston is a crackpot, but I’ve never known him to do anything like this.” He paced in front of the sofa, carefully avoiding the debris. “However, maybe getting beat up by a woman in front of the entire neighborhood sent him over the top.” His lips twitched, and there was a gleam in his eyes.
“I baked him cookies as a peace offering, and he took them. So you’d think if he ate my cookies, he wouldn’t have felt the need for revenge.”
“Maybe he didn’t like the cookies,” Officer Lewis said.
I stared.
“Just kidding.” He held up his hands. “I’ll have a talk with Mr. Livingston.” He looked around. “In the meantime, are you okay?”
I assured him I was.
Joe let him out and then walked over to the sofa, where Stephanie and I were sitting in stunned silence. “Stephanie and I are scheduled to leave tomorrow. I wish I could stay longer, but I have to get back to work.”
I shook my head. “I can’t let myself give in to fear.” I could feel the argument coming and held up my hand to stave it off. “Aggie and I will be fine. The house has an alarm system. I didn’t think I would need it, but I will use it.” I patted Stephanie’s hand. “I know you two have to get back to work. Please don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” I smiled.
“I don’t think you should stay here alone. I know you don’t like the drive down the mountain, but maybe you should pack a bag and stay with Dixie,” Joe said.
“She won’t be alone.” Stephanie looked up. “I’m staying.” Her eyes were steel, and her jaw was set.
“Don’t you have a court case or something?” I asked.
“I sent a text to my boss letting him know I was staying an extra week.” She clasped my hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
She nodded.
Joe rubbed the back of his neck. I felt sorry for him. Instead of just worrying about me, he now had Stephanie to worry about. However, he merely took a few deep breaths and nodded. “Okay, I have a friend who works with the TBI, the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation; his name is Dennis Olson.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to give him a call and ask him to come by and check on you both.” He sensed the objection that was rising in both Stephanie and me, but he held up one finger and gave us his steely I-Mean-Business-and-Don’t-Even-Try-Me policeman stare, which stopped us both cold. “This is not negotiable. I care about both of you, and if I can’t be here, then at least I can have some peace knowing Red is keeping an eye out.”
“Red?” Stephanie asked.
“His name is Dennis, but everyone calls him Red.” He called. After a few moments of small talk, he quickly brought his friend up to speed on what had happened and got a promise from him to come by to keep an eye on us. Conversation over, he hung up. He must have expected more arguing because he planted his feet and crossed his arms.
“Thank you.” I stood and went over and gave him a hug.
Stephanie followed and gave him a hug and a passionate kiss. After a few seconds, she pulled away.
“Now I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” I walked to the back door. There were three dogs sitting with noses pressed against the glass. I let them in, picked Aggie up before she could make a dash for the kitchen, and headed to the bedroom. “I’ll clean that up tomorrow.”
I found it hard to believe I slept, but, sure enough, I woke up with Aggie lying on my head. When I opened my eyes, there were two brown ones staring back at me. I must have been more tired than I’d realized, because I hadn’t bothered to pick up any of the clothes, shoes, or clutter the intruder had left for me. Maybe it was knowing there was an armed policeman asleep in the house along with a highly trained police K-9 dog that I had no doubt would rip an intruder apart if ordered. Or maybe it was the hope that after searching the house and finding nothing, because there was nothing to find, the intruder would move on.
Regardless, I stretched and got out of bed. I put Aggie outside and returned as many things to their rightful place as possible before hopping into the shower. While the hot water pelted my skin, I made a mental checklist. I was confident Dixie would be able to help me find a cleaning company to get the house back in order. The intruder had kicked in the front door, breaking the lock and splitting the wood around the hinges. Thankfully, Joe had noticed another door in the garage, which he and Officer Lewis had used to replace the front door. However, I needed to phone Mrs. Hansen and notify her of the break-in, a task I wasn’t looking forward to. Apart from the fact she was most certainly mourning the loss of her son, the last thing she needed to think about was a tenant. Nevertheless, it needed to be done. I needed to get the security system transferred over into my name in order to activate it, plus I needed groceries and dog food. There was a lot to be done, but I needed to get to work. I couldn’t possibly ask Linda Kay for two days off during my first week on a new job. She was understanding, but that was a lot to expect of any employer.
By the time I was dressed, I had a good idea of what needed to be done. I opened the bedroom door and stopped in amazement. I’d mentally prepared myself for the mess. However, seeing the living room and kitchen completely cleaned was a bigger shock. “What the—”
Stephanie and Joe were sitting at the breakfast bar drinking coffee from Styrofoam cups embossed with the logo of a well-known donut shop. When I walked over, she held up a steaming cup of coffee.
“Are there donuts?”
She smiled and slid a plate with a chocolate glazed donut on it.
I took a bite and moaned. “Bless you.”
She laughed. “We decided we deserved to treat ourselves.”
I looked around. “I can’t believe you guys cleaned this. I was going to call a cleaning company to take care of the mess.” I took a long sip of coffee. “This must have taken you all night.”
“Most of the night, but we were up talking.” She snuck a glance at Joe and then hurried on. “Might as well talk and work at the same time.”
“I’m sorry.” I stared at Joe. “I should have helped. I’m sure that’s not how you wanted to spe
nd your last night here.”
“It’s okay. We had a lot to talk over, so it worked out,” Stephanie said.
I looked from Stephanie to Joe. There was an undercurrent that was charged. Neither one volunteered information, but I noticed a few glances. Well, they were adults, and whatever happened was their business, for now, anyway. I looked around. “Where are the dogs?”
Joe took a sip of coffee and nodded toward the back deck.
I turned and again saw three noses pressed against the glass. “I was thinking about taking Aggie to a doggie day care.”
“There’s one next to the emergency vet where we took the golden. Maybe I can swing by there today and get some information.” Stephanie glanced at Joe. “I know some people don’t think I should get attached, but I need to come up with a name for him.”
I glanced at my watch. “I’ve got to get to work.” I turned to Joe. “What time does your flight leave?”
“Late, eight. I’m not able to stay, but by flying into Chicago, I could move to a later departure time. It’s a longer drive, but that’s okay.” He glanced at Stephanie, who blushed. “Also, I want to be here to introduce you both to my friend Dennis Olson.”
“Great, then I’ll save my good-byes until later.”
I grabbed my coffee and an old-fashioned donut for the road and hurried away.
My morning commute was uneventful. Thanks to Bluetooth technology, I was able to take care of business without losing focus on the traffic, which was a plus. I called Dixie and updated her on recent events.
I got to work and looked around my surroundings a great deal more than normal. I told myself I was just being cautious; however, there was a part of me that felt disappointed when I entered the building and went up in the elevator, although I refused to acknowledge why.
When I got upstairs, the lights were on. Jacob’s jacket was hung up, and his computer was on, although he wasn’t at his desk. He had, however, unlocked my office. When I went in, he was there with the fancy Chinese vase. He was arranging yellow roses.
“Those are beautiful.” I walked up behind him and took a big whiff. “Who sent them?” My nose was buried in the roses.
“I think you know. Someone must have made quite the impression with Mr. Hopewell.” He adjusted the flowers and then took a step back and admired his handiwork. Pleased, he swept the leaves and cast-off stems into my wastebasket and tossed the empty box into the trash. He slid the card toward me and smiled. He picked up a pair of scissors and then turned and walked out.
I sniffed the flowers and then sat down and opened the envelope. As Jacob suspected, the flowers were from Freemont Hopewell. The card had very few words.
Lunch? F.H.
I took that to indicate Freemont Hopewell was inviting me to lunch. I refused to call it a lunch date. I hadn’t dated in over twenty-five years. The very idea of a date made my hands sweaty. I sat in my chair with a silly grin on my face for several minutes. Eventually, I sat up and got to work. At first, I caught myself glancing at the clock every fifteen minutes. Before long, I was engrossed in figures. Freemont was handsome, but he had no clue what he was doing when it came to accounting. Honestly, the mess he had created was tedious and time-consuming to figure out but seemed harmless enough. I decided to prioritize. I focused on the taxes and spent a couple of hours on the phone with an extremely chatty IRS agent named Denise Austin. Denise sounded young and perky, or maybe I was having a flashback to an aerobics instructor of the same name. Usually, IRS agents didn’t give their full names, but Denise was so friendly, I felt like we were long-lost friends. Obviously, she had yet to get beaten down by the day-to-day monotony of working for one of the most hated organizations in the United States. At the end of that conversation, I was tired but had completed the paperwork the IRS needed to insure the museum kept their nonprofit status, and I felt good. As I hung up the phone, there was a knock on my door, and in walked Freemont with a small bouquet.
“I tried to call, but I was told you were on the phone, so I took a chance and came in person.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been on the phone for a while.”
Jacob walked in with a small cobalt blue vase. “Told you.” He rolled his eyes.
“Hello, Jacob. Always a pleasure.”
I looked at my phone. “What time is it?”
“Noon,” Freemont said. “Are you available for lunch?”
I looked at my desk, which was covered in papers.
“Come on, you have to eat,” Freemont pleaded.
“You go to lunch, and I’ll take care of things here.” Jacob extended a hand toward Freemont, who passed the flowers to him.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” I glanced at Jacob, who was removing the dead leaves and rearranging the flowers so they looked their best.
“Hmmm.” Jacob sniffed. “Running low on vases. Maybe you should get creative and try something unique.”
I scowled at Jacob for his rude behavior. “I love flowers.”
Jacob sniffed and continued arranging the flowers in the new vase.
Freemont shrugged and smiled. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”
I got up and took my purse out of the drawer. Freemont helped me on with my coat and then held the door for me, something my late husband rarely did, even when we were dating.
We took the elevator downstairs. Once outside, Freemont led me to a small red BMW convertible. He held the door, and I lifted my leg to get inside. Unfortunately, the suit I’d worn that day had a pencil skirt that prevented me from separating my legs more than a few inches, which wasn’t enough to allow me to get into the car gracefully. After a couple of failed attempts, I tossed grace to the curb, hiked my skirt up over my knees, and folded myself down into the car.
To his credit, Freemont didn’t say a word, although the corners of his mouth twitched. He quickly closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side.
“I made reservations at my favorite restaurant.” He backed out of the parking lot and whizzed through the narrow streets of the historic district at a speed that made me clutch the door handle.
“Are we late?” I asked after he nearly collided with a bus that had stopped to let passengers off.
He laughed. “What’s the fun of having a finely tuned German vehicle if you’re going to drive it like a minivan?”
My foot automatically pressed the floor as though there were a brake I could apply, and Freemont raced around a corner, causing another car to screech to a halt. The driver leaned on the horn. Based on the arm gestures, pointed fingers, and body language, the driver had a few ideas about what he’d like to do to that finely tuned German vehicle. Yet Freemont merely waved and sped off.
He pulled into a parking lot, hopped out of the car, and headed around to open the passenger door for me.
I took a few deep breaths to steady my nerves and then again pulled my dress up so I could get out without falling on my face. Freemont held out a hand and helped to pull me up. Unfortunately, my foot got caught on the door, and I lurched forward. I would have fallen if Freemont hadn’t been standing there. I put out my arms to brace myself and fell into his arms.
I looked into his face and got a whiff of his cologne, which smelled citrusy with a touch of spice. His gaze looked intense.
“You smell good.”
He smiled. “Clive Christian,” he said with a husky voice.
“Excuse me?”
“My cologne. It’s Clive Christian eighteen seventy-two. It’s over three hundred dollars a bottle. I have to order it from Britain.”
I pushed myself away. “It smells good.”
He nodded and closed the car door. He held out an arm, and we walked into the restaurant.
Inside, the restaurant was dimly lit for the middle of the day. The young hostess greeted Freemont with a smile. “Mr. Hopewell, we have your table rea
dy.”
He nodded. Obviously, he was well-known here.
The girl led us to a booth near the window. Freemont helped me off with my coat and then held out my chair. He handed the hostess both of our coats before sitting down.
Once seated, there was an awkward moment when we sat staring at each other. Thankfully, the waiter came and filled our glasses with water, which gave me something else to stare at other than Freemont Hopewell.
The waiter gave us a rundown on the daily specials.
“Actually, if you will allow me, I can order for both of us.” Freemont smiled at me.
I closed my menu and forced a smile. It was one meal. In old-fashioned romance novels, his gesture might have been perceived as romantic. However, in the twenty-first century, it annoyed me. I was perfectly capable of ordering for myself. However, I took a deep breath. I repeated the phrase over in my mind. It is only one meal. I forced a smile, which felt like a grimace, and waited.
Freemont turned to the waiter and rattled off the order. Considering how long he talked, it sounded like he was ordering for an army. Eventually, the waiter nodded, took our menus, and walked away.
“Wow. That sounded like a lot of food. Are you expecting someone else to join us for lunch?” I joked.
He smiled, and I noticed how white and perfectly straight his teeth were. I wondered if he had worn braces as a child. My musings had obviously distracted me from whatever he was talking about because his mouth was no longer moving, and he was looking as though he were waiting for me to say something.
I took a sip of water. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.” I didn’t say “by the brilliance of your teeth,” but the phrase floated in my head.
“I was just explaining that food is a passion of mine. This is one of the best, and most expensive, restaurants in Chattanooga. The chef is a personal friend of mine.” He grinned. “He’s French, of course.”
“Of course.”
He leaned across the table. “I wanted you to experience the best cuisine, and there’s an order that should be observed.”
