“Do you know where the disks are?”
“Sure do,” she said. “Your father stored them in the crawl space of the guesthouse before Shep moved back.”
“Can I have the disks?” Bridgette asked. “They might help me with something at work.”
Lilly sat up straight. “Why would you want a bunch of old disks?”
Why? It was a reasonable question. First, she suspected that her father had lied about having access to old employee information. Which meant what? Bridgette didn’t know, but she was determined to find out.
Chapter 7
Thursday morning, Luke began before dawn as always with his regular run. There was no note from Julia taped to the door. Nor was she or her car anywhere to be seen. Did he dare to hope that the call to her mother had solved all of his problems?
And if that was true, why in the hell had Luke waited so long?
The rest of the day unfolded. The store was filled with customers from open to close. Despite the constant activity, more than once he glanced at the clock, willing the day to end. Time passed slowly, minutes becoming hours.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the sky orange and pink, he flicked off the lights and locked all the doors.
Finally, it was 7:00 p.m.
Time for the Braxville Boo-fest committee meeting. Moreover, it was another chance to see Bridgette Colton.
Carrying the binder given to him by Stacey under one arm, he strode across the street. As he crossed, Luke glanced up and down the road. He searched for Julia lurking in a doorway. Or her blue sedan parked at the curb and belching fumes.
She wasn’t there.
As he pulled open the door to La Dolce Vita, all thoughts about his ex-girlfriend ended.
Standing at the counter was Bridgette Colton. The collar and cuffs of a white blouse were showing under a bright blue sweater. Her dark blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail and hung to the middle of her back. A pair of jeans hugged her hips and rear. She laughed, throwing back her head, and he got a glimpse of her throat.
For a moment, he had a clear vision of placing a kiss on Bridgette’s neck.
Was it a memory from the summer they dated? Or was it a much more adult fantasy?
At the back of the room, several tables had been pushed together. Half a dozen people had already filled seats. Taking a to-go cup from the counter, Bridgette moved to the table and sat. A single chair remained at the head of the table.
Luke placed the binder on the table before sitting. He waited for a moment as the crowd got settled.
He began, “I’d like to thank everyone for coming. However, I have some bad news. Stacey isn’t able to chair the Boo-fest anymore. Her husband’s having some health issues and needs her attention. I’ve agreed to be the festival chairperson and want to introduce Bridgette Colton. She’s considering taking over my old position and being in charge of the parade. We spoke this morning and she has great ideas.”
All eyes turned to Bridgette.
She waved the tips of her fingers. “First, I want to say that the parade looks like a lot of fun for families. I’d like to add something to the day. In Wichita, I volunteer at a local animal shelter. As you may guess, it’s hard to find forever homes for pets in need. So, something like the Boo-fest and the parade are perfect ways to introduce homeless dogs to families. If chair, I’d work with a local shelter to make sure we get exposure for the animals.”
“Great idea,” said Megan Parker. “We adopted our dog, Skippy, a few years ago and he’s definitely part of our family.”
“I agree with Megan,” said Luke. “It is a great idea. In fact, I’m a little jealous, Bridgette. You’ve had only a few hours to think about the parade and have come up with a fabulous idea. I had a whole year and never once thought to include a charity.” Everyone chuckled. “Moving on, let’s start with committee reports. Gladys, do you have anything new for the bake-off?”
An hour later, Luke was certain that all the correct permits had been filed with the city. Moreover, everyone knew their roles and all necessary plans were in place. “Today is Thursday. The festival is next Saturday. That gives us a little more than a week between now and then. Trust me, we’re all going to be busy,” Luke continued. “But if we all chip in, we can make this a Braxville Boo-fest for the history books.” There was one item that Stacey had yet to address. Luke hated to burden anyone further, yet it could make a difference for everyone in the downtown. “We need media coverage,” he said. “I’m sure the local paper will cover the events, but that only comes out once a week. We need a connection to the Wichita market. Any suggestions?”
Luke looked around the table. Nobody met his gaze.
Bridgette lifted her hand. “I know a producer for one of the TV stations. She was my college roommate. I can’t make any promises, but I can send her a message.”
“That’s great,” said Luke. “Does this mean you’re officially in charge of the parade?”
Bridgette already had her phone in her hand and was tapping on the screen. “I guess it does,” she said as she sent the text. Her cell pinged immediately. “She says she’s interested. I need to give her a press release. Do you have one?”
“No,” said Megan. “We never tried to get any media coverage before.”
“That’s okay,” said Bridgette. “I’ve done a few for work. Luke, if I can get some information from you, then I can put a release together.”
The meeting was adjourned, but nobody left. Like always, Megan served coffee and cookies, giving everyone a chance to visit. Several people congratulated Luke on a job well-done. Yet, he wanted to talk to one person in particular—Bridgette.
The bake-off chairwoman, Gladys Soames, sat next to Bridgette at a table by the window. Carrying a plate of cookies, he approached as the elderly woman was saying, “Now, make sure to tell your mother about the bake-off. She makes the best apple tarts in the world and would win for sure.”
Bridgette said, “When I see my mother next, I’ll encourage her to enter the contest.”
Gladys rose from her seat. “Thank you. You are certainly a dear.”
Luke sat in the seat Gladys had vacated. He set down the plate and slid it toward Bridgette with the tip of his finger. She took a cookie and lifted it to her mouth. Before taking a bite, she said, “That went well. You’re a natural leader.”
He shrugged. “And you’re a natural idea generator.”
“I guess we make quite a team,” said Bridgette with a smile.
“It’s always been like that,” he said.
Her smile faded and she looked out the window. Night had fallen, and the front window reflected the room—and Bridgette. An emotion filled her face, but in the glass he couldn’t name what it was. Pain? Despair? Regret? Was she annoyed that he’d brought up their past?
All those years ago they’d been good together. Was that why he felt there was more to their relationship than a youthful folly.
She turned back to Luke. “When would you have time to work on a press release? I’m sure you have everything in that big binder of yours.”
“I haven’t looked through it all yet,” he said. “I’m sure Stacey, that’s the old chair, knows more than what’s here, but I don’t want to bother her, not with everything she’s going through.”
“What’s going on?” Bridgette asked. She took a bite of cookie. A crumb clung to the corner of her mouth and she licked it away. How could she make eating a cookie look sexy?
“Stacey’s husband has cancer,” said Luke. “He had it a few years ago, but it seems as if it’s come back.”
“Cancer?” Bridgette’s eyes went wide. “What kind?”
“I don’t know what he has now, but a few years ago it was esophageal.”
“Are you sure?”
“About Stacey’s husband having had esophageal cancer? I’m positiv
e.”
Bridgette set her half-eaten cookie on a napkin and dusted her fingertips together. “What did Stacey’s husband do for a living?”
“George is kind of a jack-of-all-trades. He does a little painting and home repairs. I think a lot of the older folks in town used him for maintenance—Gladys Soames, included.”
Bridgette leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Do you know if Stacey’s husband ever worked for Colton Construction?”
Answering her question with one of his own, he asked, “Did he work for your dad?”
“Yeah.”
Luke knew that answer, as well. “He did, six or seven years ago, I think.”
Bridgette stared, openmouthed, at Luke.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
No reply.
“Bridgette, are you feeling ill? What’s the matter?”
Rising from her seat, she mumbled, “I have to go.”
“What? Why? Is anything wrong?”
She shook her head but said nothing more. Without a backward glance, she left the coffee shop. Luke moved to the window and watched as she hustled across the street. She unlocked the door leading to the apartments, stepped inside and disappeared from sight.
* * *
Cell phone in hand, Bridgette took the stairs two at a time. She pulled up her contact list and placed a call before reaching the landing. Her heart hammered against her chest as the phone rang and rang and rang.
“This is Rachel. I can’t take your call. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Beep.
“Dammit,” Bridgette cursed. She hung up and called again.
It was answered on the first ring.
“Bridgette, hi. Sorry I missed you. I was just washing up after dinner,” said Rachel, the technical expert in her group.
“I have something for you and it’s important.”
“Sure. What can I do for you?”
Working the key into the lock with one hand, Bridgette held the phone with the other. She opened the door, stepped into her apartment and flipped on the light. There, in the middle of the coffee table, was the box provided by her mother. “I have some floppy disks that I need opened. Can you do that?”
There was a long pause. “Floppy disks?”
“Yeah. I have a theory about what might tie everyone in the cluster together, but it’s all on disk.”
“What kind?”
Bridgette read off the serial number.
“I have a friend who collects old computers. Let me talk to her and see if she has the right tech. If so, we’ll be in business.”
“And if not?”
“The disks can be opened. They just have to be sent to the state office. It’ll take a while.”
“What’s a while? Days? Weeks?”
“Try months, like three or four.”
“That’s too long. See what your friend says and let me know.”
Bridgette ended the call and dropped onto the sofa. She lifted a disk from the box and examined it from every angle. The little piece of plastic held the power to prove Bridgette’s theory, and if her guess was right, then Colton Construction was at the center of the cancer cases.
For the first time in her life, she hoped that she was wrong.
* * *
Julia stood in a darkened doorway and watched. Her chest ached with longing and hatred. Had Luke Walker really replaced her with Bridgette Colton? What was it that Bridgette had that Julia didn’t?
A fancy last name? A college degree? An important job?
Bridgette only had the luck of her birth. It’s not hard to be successful when every opportunity has been given to you.
What Julia had was grit. Life hadn’t been kind to her and yet she persevered.
Luke had to see that. Right?
Only moments before, Julia had watched as the other woman left the coffee shop and raced across the street, going through the door that led to the apartment building where Luke lived. A moment later, a curious thing happened. The lights had come on in the apartment across the hall from where Luke lived, the one that had been vacant for months. The shades were drawn, so Julia didn’t know if Bridgette Colton had turned on the lights, but she felt safe in her presumption.
There was something else interesting about Bridgette. As she ran across the street, her shoulders had been hunched. Her complexion had gone pale. And Julia could have sworn that she’d seen tears in the other woman’s eyes.
It brought up an interesting question. With a life as blessed as that of Bridgette Colton, what could possibly cause her any grief? Had she gotten into an argument with Luke?
This morning, Julia had assumed that Bridgette had spent the night with Luke and was possibly living with him now. But the lights in his apartment were dark. Was she only a neighbor?
Had picking up his breakfast been a polite gesture made by a woman brought up with impeccable manners?
Besides, that morning Mr. Colton had mentioned Bridgette being in Braxville temporarily for work. If her stay was short, why was she living downtown? Why not stay with her parents?
Julia had seen pictures on Google Earth. The Colton house was huge. It was the kind of place that Julia would kill to call home.
A minute later, Luke emerged from the coffee shop, as well. He carried a large binder and kept his head down while walking. There was a pull in her middle, like her soul was tethered to his, but Julia stepped back farther into the shadows.
He was the one who had called her mother and ruined everything.
What’s worse? Julia knew that call had been placed at the behest of Bridgette Colton.
After looking both ways for traffic that never came downtown this late at night, Luke crossed the street. Breathless with anticipation, she watched and waited. A moment later, Luke’s apartment erupted with lights. Julia laughed out loud.
He wasn’t living with Bridgette, after all.
It meant that Julia still had a chance with Luke, so long as Bridgette wasn’t a rival for Luke’s affections.
That spoiled bitch needed to leave downtown Braxville not just for now, but for good. The sooner Julia could convince Bridgette to go back to her parents’ house—more like mansion—the better it would be for everyone.
* * *
Dropping the binder onto the table, Luke flopped down on the sofa. As a small business owner, his work was never done, and that included making sure events like the Braxville Boo-fest were a success. He’d barely had time to look at more than a couple of pages, and if he was going to be the chairperson, then he was ultimately responsible for everything that happened.
More than that, his store needed attention. There were invoices to file, orders to place, shelves to stock.
Tonight, he lacked the motivation for them all.
And he knew the reason why.
It was Bridgette Colton. She’d been back in his life for less than forty-eight hours, and already she was under his skin. He itched with the need to see her, to speak to her, to touch her. More than once throughout the day she had come to mind. He read an article in an online paper and wondered about her opinion. A song on the radio brought back memories of the night they had spent at her family’s cabin. The scent of coffee left him wondering if she’d make it a habit of stopping by his apartment every morning.
For the first time, his apartment felt too small. What was worse, Bridgette was too close. He grabbed his phone and walked back down the stairs to the street, placing a call as he went.
“Luke.” The phone was answered after the fourth ring by his friend, Reese Carpenter. “What’s up?”
“Got time for a beer?”
“With you? Absolutely. When and where?”
“How about now, at the pub near my place.”
“Now? I thought you were like Cinderella and turned into a pumpkin after dark,” said Ree
se. “You never go out because you have to be in the store at dawn.”
“Are you going to bust my balls about working hard now?” Luke asked.
“You know I’d never give you a hard time for everything you do. You’re my favorite workaholic.”
“Maybe you should consider a career change to comedy,” said Luke, returning the good-natured banter. He’d walked while speaking on the phone and was now at the pub. While pulling open the door, he said, “I’m here. I’ll save you a seat.”
The crowd for a Thursday night was light and only half of the tables were filled. Several TVs on the walls were tuned to a football game. He slid onto a bar stool and the bartender looked up. “What’ll it be?”
Luke ordered a beer and an order of buffalo wings.
“Make that two,” said Reese, taking a seat next to Luke.
“Thanks for meeting me, man,” said Luke, offering his hand to shake.
“I figured this was either a celebration or a commiseration. Either way, I’m here. So, which is it?”
The bartender set two glasses with amber liquid at their elbows. Luke took a sip, letting the beer settle in his middle before answering. “I need some levelheaded advice. It’s about a woman.”
“The dark-haired girl from this summer?”
“No, I broke it off with her almost as quick as it began.”
“Who then?”
What was Luke supposed to say about Bridgette? More than being Luke’s friend, Reese was an officer with the Braxville police force and Jordana Colton’s partner. Did he want to put his friend in a position where he had to keep a confidence. “I ran into an ex-girlfriend,” he said.
“And how’d it go?”
“At first, she was really upset to see me. Then, this morning she stopped by with coffee to apologize. I saw her tonight and she was friendly until...” He paused. “Hell, I don’t even know what happened. She said she had to go and ran out the door. It’s like her mood changed—” he snapped his fingers “—like that.”
Colton's Secret History Page 8
