Where There’s a Will

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Where There’s a Will Page 13

by Beth Pattillo


  Slowly the footsteps moved around the booth. A man’s footsteps, Kate thought, judging from their heaviness and the thumping against the hardwood floor. Dress shoes of some kind, wing tip maybe, like those favored by Oliver Coats. The steps came distressingly close, and Kate realized that whoever it was stood less than three feet from their hiding place, just on the other side of the screen. She hardly dared to breathe, and she saw that Ellen was just as frightened.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the footsteps began to move again, away from their hiding place and out of the booth. Whoever it was walked down the hallway back toward the mall’s entrance.

  Kate let out her breath in a whoosh of air. Ellen sagged with relief.

  “Let’s give him a few minutes, and then I’ll see if the coast is clear,” Kate suggested. They slid out from behind the screen, and Ellen sank into a nearby straight-backed chair.

  “Fine with me.” She slumped in the chair and put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know why I came apart like that. I guess I just don’t have much gumption left since my husband’s death.”

  “Nonsense,” Kate answered. “You’ve got more than enough gumption. You’ve earned the right to avoid unnecessary unpleasantness.”

  Ellen was the first to start giggling, a natural response of relief, Kate supposed, following a perceived danger. She joined in Ellen’s merriment, and soon they were laughing like schoolgirls. It felt good, Kate thought.

  “I’ll try not to do that again,” Ellen said, hoisting herself out of the chair.

  “As I said, you’re entitled. Besides, it was kind of fun. I thought this mystery wasn’t going to have any danger attached to it at all. And where would be the excitement in that?”

  “Indeed,” Ellen agreed. “Do you think the coast is clear now?”

  “Let me check.” Kate moved silently to the front and peeked down the hallway once again. No Oliver Coats in sight.

  “If you want to go pay for the painting, I’ll find Dot and Martha,” Kate said. “There’s a cart you can use outside to get it to the front.”

  Ellen nodded. “Let’s meet at the car.” Then she reached out and gave Kate a hug. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’d have managed.”

  “I’m just glad that I didn’t have to.”

  “Do I get extra class credit for excellence in concealment of wayward professors and their mysterious paintings?”

  Ellen grinned. “If I can figure out how to write that in the grade book, yes, you can.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we can figure that out,” Kate said with a laugh. “That will be the easiest part of this mystery to solve.” She helped Ellen put the painting in the cart and then sent her toward the cashier’s desk at the end of the hall. Then she went in search of Dot and Martha.

  “WE RAN INTO that nice Oliver Coats,” Martha said as the four women left the antique mall. “Such a handsome man, and so gallant. He was so interested in what we were doing here at the antique mall.”

  “You didn’t tell him, did you?” Ellen had a horrified look on her face.

  Kate bit her tongue. Better not to give away her anxiety to Dot and Martha.

  Dot looked first at Ellen and then at Kate. She pursed her lips. “Of course we didn’t tell him what we were doing. We may not be as experienced at sleuthing as you are, Kate Hanlon, but we’re not completely lacking in sense either.”

  “I didn’t say anything,” Kate protested, but Dot was looking smug rather than perturbed. She obviously wasn’t upset with Kate or with Ellen’s question.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Dot shot back with a teasing gleam in her eye. “What you’re thinking is written all over your face.”

  “So, what did you tell Oliver, then?” Kate asked.

  “Oh, nothing much.” Martha was looking like a Cheshire cat, grinning from ear to ear. “He happened to mention that he was looking for one of Lela Harrington’s paintings, and so I said that I thought I’d seen one at an antique store in Birmingham last week.”

  “Martha! You lied to him!” Kate tried to sound as if she was scolding the other woman, but she couldn’t quite pull it off.

  “Well, I was in an antique shop in Birmingham last week. And I saw a lot of paintings. I might have seen one that looked like it was done by Ellen’s grandmother.” She winked at the group, and all four women burst into laughter.

  “Do you think he’ll wait until tomorrow to drive to Birmingham or set out tonight?” Kate asked when she stopped laughing long enough to speak.

  “I saw him burning rubber out of the parking lot,” Dot said tongue in cheek, “so who knows?”

  “Is that what I think it is?” Martha asked, nodding toward the object wrapped in plain brown paper that was in a cart Ellen was pushing.

  “We found the painting,” Kate said, “if you can believe it. I think Oliver must have unwittingly brought us good luck.”

  “Can we see it?”

  Kate cast a glance over her shoulder and then around the parking lot, just in case Oliver Coats had returned. But there was no sign of him.

  “Okay. Sure.”

  With Ellen’s help, she peeled back the paper so that the other women could study the painting.

  “What is it?” Dot asked. “It looks like a church.”

  “It’s the building that served the old town of Harrington as both church and schoolhouse,” Ellen explained. “I think my grandmother captured it pretty well.”

  Even in its childlike style, the painting caught the building’s dual roles in detail. On one side, a stream of worshippers emerged from the church in their Sunday finest. On the other side, a group of schoolchildren were marching toward the building, books in their arms and lunch pails dangling from their hands. Apple trees encircled both the building and the people.

  “Very charming,” Dot said, studying the painting with a critical eye.

  “Look at the use of color,” Martha added.

  They must actually have been paying attention to Ellen’s lectures, Kate realized. This must be the painting Lela Harrington had entitled Double Duty.

  “The composition leads the eye right to the building,” Kate chimed in. And then they all froze.

  “Do you think that’s it?” Martha asked excitedly. “Do you think the will is hidden in that building?”

  Kate hesitated. “Maybe. And if that’s the case, we wouldn’t need to look for the fifth painting.” She racked her brain trying to recall whether the other paintings had similar compositions, and then she remembered the photos she’d brought along.

  Moments later, all four women were grouped around the photos Kate held, studying them from a variety of angles and comparing them to the newest painting. To anyone passing by, they must have looked a sight, Kate thought. A gaggle of women clustered together in the middle of an antique-mall parking lot, doing heaven knew what.

  “I think I’d do better to go back to my apartment,” Ellen said at length, “and line up the paintings side by side.”

  “I need to stop by the hospital and check on Ida Mae,” Kate said. “Why don’t you take Dot and Martha, and I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”

  The others nodded their agreement, and soon after, Kate was in her Accord heading back to the hospital, while the other three ladies set off toward Pine Ridge.

  IDA MAE ENDED UP STAYING at the hospital in Chattanooga overnight, so Kate and Paul drove home to Copper Mill together. Paul had met Mike Rowland for a cup of coffee in the hospital cafeteria since the young man’s construction job had failed to pan out, and Paul seemed uncharacteristically glum about their conversation.

  “I know I haven’t been in the chamber of commerce very long, but I thought I’d have more of an impact,” he said.

  Kate patted his arm. His tight grip on the steering wheel evidenced his worry. “Give it time. Bill’s coming next week. Maybe they’ll listen to him.”

  “I hope so,” Paul said, but he
didn’t sound optimistic.

  By the time they returned home, Kate felt it was too late to go to Ellen’s apartment. She called her friend to see if she had been able to make any progress on the mystery once they’d laid the new painting alongside the others.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Ellen said. “We studied them for a while but Martha and Dot were so tired that I ran them home to Copper Mill rather than make everyone miserable.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what we’ll do next.”

  “Sometimes, when I’m solving a mystery, I need to take a break and mull things over.”

  “I suppose so,” Ellen said. “We can talk next week after class.”

  “Okay.” They said good-bye and Kate hung up the telephone. Whenever she felt stalemated like this, she knew it was time for prayer. Despite the lateness of the hour, she headed for her favorite rocking chair and her Bible. She’d learned long ago that faith was the best asset when it came to solving mysteries.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next Monday when Paul entered the diner with Bill Rohde, he could sense the special chamber of commerce meeting he’d called would not go well. Paul had had the foresight to take Bill fishing early that morning. That, coupled with Bill’s stay the night before at the Hamilton Springs Hotel, had afforded his friend with some of the good things the town had to offer. If it hadn’t been for that, Bill might have taken one look at Lawton Briddle’s crossed arms and scowl and headed back to San Antonio. As it was, Bill didn’t let on if he noticed that Lawton already had his mind made up about the meeting.

  “Afternoon, gentlemen,” LuAnne said, following them to the corner booth. “What can I get for you and your handsome friend, Rev. Hanlon?”

  “I believe my friend here is pretty fond of chess pie, if I recall correctly.” Paul looked at Bill, who nodded in response.

  “Chess pie and black coffee. And a pretty waitress to bring it to me to boot,” Bill teased. “I thought this day might go downhill once we left the fishing hole, but now I may have to change my mind.”

  It was harmless banter, the kind that went on in coffee shops and diners all over the country. That was one thing about Copper Mill that wasn’t different from anywhere else.

  “Lawton, fellows, this is my friend Bill Rohde. Bill, Lawton here is our mayor. Fred owns the pharmacy on Ashland Street, down by Copper Mill Creek, and John has the insurance agency here in town.”

  “Gentlemen. Good to meet you.” Bill was, like a lot of Texans, slightly larger than life. He was tall, broad, and wore a cowboy hat just about everywhere except at church and in his own dining room, two exceptions his late wife had insisted on.

  The men shook hands all around, Lawton unbending long enough to greet their guest properly. LuAnne returned with the pie and coffee and lingered just long enough to find out who Bill was and why he was sitting in on the chamber of commerce meeting.

  “I’ve been briefing Bill some on our town’s economic woes,” Paul said to the other men, “but you know much more of the history and the possibilities when it comes to Copper Mill’s economic development. I thought I’d ask you to fill in the blanks.”

  John and Fred nodded, but Lawton still looked intransigent.

  “Paul said you were involved in developing tourism down there in San Antonio,” Fred said. “’Course, in a big town like that, you had a lot of money to work with, I’ll wager.”

  Bill nodded as he took a bite of his pie. He washed it down with a swig of coffee and then set his fork aside. “That’s true. When you’re talking about a city with a million people, it’s a little different equation. But the principles are the same.”

  “Such as?” So far, Lawton hadn’t even taken a sip of his coffee since Bill and Paul sat down at the table. Paul wondered that the forbidding expression on his face didn’t stick permanently, it had been sitting there so long.

  “Well, you have to figure out what your strengths are. What you have to offer.”

  “Can you be more specific?” John asked.

  “Location. Quality of life. Schools. Transportation. The usual stuff.” He looked around the group. “So, what are your strengths?”

  “Copper Mill’s a scenic area,” Fred said. “And we’re not too far from I-40.”

  “We’re friendly,” John said.

  Paul sipped his coffee so he wouldn’t say what he was thinking—that Bill would have had a hard time seeing that quality given Lawton’s behavior. The mayor was still sitting with his arms crossed.

  “I’m sure that’s true, but a lot of places are pretty and friendly. What’s unique about Copper Mill? Years ago, San Antonio had a river running through downtown that was mostly underground. Somebody had a vision for using that river, and after a whole lot of work, we now have a beautiful River Walk that’s a big tourist attraction. What’s the Copper Mill equivalent of that river?”

  Bill’s question silenced everyone. Paul had some thoughts on the matter, but he knew it wasn’t the time to speak. At length, Lawton uncrossed his arms, cleared his throat, and prepared to pontificate.

  “The last thing we need around here is a bunch of tourists. Or a bunch of citified ways. Sure, we could use a better business base, but we don’t want the kind of change that will cost everything we love about our town.”

  “I understand your reluctance,” Bill said.

  Thank goodness he was a patient man, Paul thought. Nothing like being invited as a guest and questioned like a hostile witness in a courtroom.

  “What if we took a walk around the Town Square?” Paul suggested. “Maybe if we could see things through fresh eyes, through Bill’s eyes, we might come up with some ideas.”

  Fred looked interested. “That sounds like a great idea,” he said.

  “My insurance agency’s just up the street. We could swing by there,” John said.

  Paul’s hopes began to rise. Maybe the men would at least listen to what Bill had to say.

  “I don’t need any eyes but the ones I have,” Lawton insisted. “Waste of time, if you ask me.”

  Fred and John looked at each other with uncertainty. Paul had the sinking feeling that his efforts, no matter how diligent and well intentioned, might never get him anywhere with the Copper Mill Chamber of Commerce as long as Lawton remained in charge. He had prayed often over the past several weeks that his fears would be unfounded, but as far as he could see, these men would probably never do anything but sit in the corner booth at the Country Diner, drink coffee, and eat pie. He had also prayed that God would give him the wisdom about whether to continue his involvement in the chamber, and at this point, he considered Bill Rohde his last ditch effort. Maybe Sam was right after all.

  “Mayor, if you’re not open to any outside help, how are we ever going to get anywhere?” Paul tried to keep the frustration out of his voice.

  Lawton scowled. “I wasn’t under the impression we needed to get anywhere. Seems to me we were doing all right before you and your big ideas came along, Rev. Hanlon.”

  Paul knew he must be cutting close to the bone for Lawton to react with such a lack of graciousness, but Paul’s frustration outweighed his sympathy.

  “You know, fellows, maybe I’m not the right man for this job.” He stood up, and Bill did the same. “Lawton, consider this my resignation from the chamber. Gentlemen.” He nodded at Fred and John. “Thank you for your time.”

  Paul had a lot more he would have liked to say, but he’d learned a long time ago that while venting his spleen might make him feel better in the short term, it would cause much more pain in the long run.

  He drew out his wallet and left some money on the table for LuAnne. And then he turned around and walked out of the diner. Bill followed behind, which was a good thing, Paul thought, given the daggers Lawton was no doubt staring at his back.

  “Give them time, Paul. They may come around,” Bill said as they walked toward Paul’s pickup truck.

  “That’s what Kate said,” he replied. “But I’m not sure time will make much difference.”r />
  “They just need to see the right opportunity. Don’t try to convince them. Show them. They’ll know what they want when they see it.”

  “Do you think I acted too hastily?” Paul asked his friend.

  “Sometimes people need a bit of shaking up. Your resignation might spark something. You never know.”

  Paul nodded. “Like you said, I’ll just have to keep my eyes open for the right opportunity.”

  “And keep praying,” Bill advised.

  “Always,” Paul answered with a smile.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After their near encounter with Oliver Coats at the antique mall, Kate dreaded running into the man again, but Pine Ridge was only a little larger than Copper Mill, so she couldn’t hide forever.

  When she headed to the college for her class that morning, she felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. Such a shame, and frustrating to boot. She was really enjoying Ellen’s class, and she preferred not to have the specter of Oliver Coats diminishing her experience.

  Since their return from Chattanooga the previous week, their efforts to find the last painting had come to a standstill. Ellen still seemed spooked by Oliver, so Kate had backed off. Heaven knew she had enough things to occupy her time. But the closing date for the sale of High Hoot Ridge could happen at any time as far as they knew, and Kate didn’t want to give up without some effort toward finding the final painting.

  Her devotional reading that morning had been about Daniel’s experience in the lion’s den. Kate smiled as she remembered thinking that Oliver Coats would have made a pretty good lion. At that thought, she tapped on the brake and slowed down. Kate knew, with sudden certainty, what she had to do to move their efforts forward. First she would go to class, and then she would beard the lion in his den.

  AS MUCH AS SHE’D DREADED mounting the steps to Oliver’s home the first time, Kate disliked it even more the second time around. But she knew he was the key to finding that fifth painting.

 

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