“Please, Carol. I need your help.”
Carol stood. “I’m sorry. It’s too late to change anything. I think you’d better go now.”
Ellen looked as if she might cry. Kate moved to stand next to her, then took her arm and led her to the door.
Kate was disappointed too, but the encounter had completely deflated Ellen. Kate guided her out of the house, not waiting for Carol to see them to the door. Frankly, Kate had spent all the time she ever cared to in that home. As beautiful as it might look from the outside, she had found nothing but fear and distrust within.
“I thought she would change her mind,” Ellen said once they were in Kate’s car. “I truly did. We were so close when we were children.”
“I’m sorry,” Kate said.
“Whatever happens,” Ellen said, “I can only be glad I left Tennessee when I did. If I had stayed here to watch Carol change so completely and the rest of the family fall away, I don’t think I would have handled it very well. This is hard enough.”
But you might have changed the outcome, Kate wanted to say, but she didn’t.
“Maybe if Paul and I hadn’t broken up—” Ellen stopped, and then she looked at Kate with horrified eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“Of course you didn’t.” Kate hoped that Ellen was only speculating, not wishing.
“I just meant that if things had been different—”
“And they could have been,” Kate said soothingly. “But things will always be just what they are, you know. We have to take life as we find it and build on that.” Kate thought her tone sounded a bit defensive, but she decided that the situation warranted such a reaction.
“And if we find bitterness, conflict and recrimination in our lives?” Ellen took out a tissue and wiped her eyes.
“Then we head to Copper Mill and stop for a two-scoop cone of mocha-fudge ice cream at Emma’s. Then we’ll tackle the next obstacle.”
Ellen laughed. “Kate, you’re such a blessing. You know that, don’t you?”
“So, what do you say? Are you up for some ice cream?”
“Definitely!”
Kate reached the turn for Copper Mill and headed south on Pine Ridge Road. They’d tried to solicit Carol’s help, but it wasn’t meant to be. Kate and Ellen would have to figure out a new plan. Until then, well, they might as well have a little fun and enjoy some well-deserved calories.
Chapter Nineteen
The last thing Kate expected the day after their visit to Carol Coats was a phone call from a distraught Ellen. Despite their lack of success with Carol, Ellen had seemed in such good spirits after their trip to Emma’s Ice Cream Shop. When Kate had dropped her off at home, she’d sensed that Ellen was as motivated as ever to find her grandfather’s will.
“Ellen? What’s wrong?” Kate had barely recognized the sobbing voice. She leaned against the kitchen doorway and pressed the receiver tighter against her ear, trying to make out Ellen’s words. “Are you okay? Has something happened?”
“I’m calling off the search.” Ellen choked out the words between her sobs. “It’s time to just let it go, Kate. It’s too late.”
“What do you mean? Is it Oliver? Has he threatened you again?”
“It’s my decision,” Ellen insisted. “I know I asked you to help me, but now I’m asking you to let the whole thing go. It’s for the best.”
Her voice broke on the last word, and the sound twisted like a knife in Kate’s heart. Ellen had been so determined to solve the mystery of her grandfather’s missing will, and Kate couldn’t believe that she would just abandon the search so abruptly.
“But it feels like we’re so close.”
“That visit with Carol yesterday...well, it reminded me why I gave up trying to rebuild good relationships with my family all those years ago.”
“She wanted to help you. I could tell. She’s just too afraid of Oliver.”
“Exactly. I don’t want to put her in the position of getting hurt.”
Kate was instantly suspicious. “Ellen, have you heard from him? Is he behind your sudden change of heart?”
Ellen was silent for a fraction of a second too long, and Kate’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Look,” Kate said, “if Oliver’s trying to intimidate you or threaten you, we can go to the sheriff. I’ve worked with him before on cases. He’ll listen and take us seriously.”
“Kate, please do as I ask. I can’t pursue this anymore.”
What choice did she have? Kate sighed. She hated to let someone as self-serving and bullying as Oliver Coats carry the day, but it was Ellen’s life, after all.
“All right. But I can’t believe you’re giving up. I think we should press on.”
“I can’t. Not anymore.”
“Okay, Ellen. I’ll see you in class next week.”
Ellen was silent for several seconds. “Actually, I’m canceling class next week. I need to leave town for several days.”
With that, Kate was definitely suspicious. “Ellen—”
“Don’t ask me any more questions, Kate. Just trust my judgment. Please.”
“Of course I trust your judgment.” She paused, wanting to choose her words carefully. “Just remember that you do have friends here. People willing to help. You don’t have to face anything—or anyone—alone.”
“Thank you, Kate. For everything.”
The words sounded ominously like a good-bye.
“Ellen—”
“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”
The call ended with a click before Kate could say anything more. She held the receiver in her hand for a long time before she gently replaced it in its cradle.
Something definitely wasn’t right about Ellen’s behavior. She didn’t seem like someone who would give up at the first sign of trouble. Whatever was influencing her behavior, the threat must have been powerful. Oliver Coats, Kate was sure. He was the kind of man who would employ whatever means necessary to achieve his own purposes. Well, he might be the most Machiavellian person she’d encountered in quite some time, but Kate knew that love was far more powerful than greed. She wasn’t about to let Oliver’s bullying ways ruin High Hoot Ridge. Or Ellen’s future.
THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, Kate drove to Gorman’s Mercantile for a few groceries, and though her errand might have been routine, her dilemma was anything but. She’d tried to call Ellen several times over the weekend, but the phone had rung unanswered. Kate guessed that the other woman had truly left town.
Clifton Beasley was noticeably absent from the group of older men sitting on the rocking chairs outside the store. Kate exchanged greetings with them but slipped inside without lingering to chat. She wasn’t two steps inside the door, though, before she came face-to-face with Dot and Martha.
“Kate!” Martha’s face lit up at the sight of her. “We were hoping we’d see you today.”
“Here I am.” Kate hoped the ladies wouldn’t be too chatty.
Dot looked over her shoulder as if making sure that no one could overhear their conversation. “Martha and I have something to tell you.”
Kate had to suppress a smile. “You do?”
“We decided it wouldn’t hurt to do a little sleuthing of our own about that Oliver Coats, especially after he turned up at the antique mall like that.”
Suddenly Kate didn’t feel like smiling anymore. Given how spooked Ellen had been by Oliver, Kate didn’t think the two older ladies should initiate any contact with the man whatsoever.
“Tell me more,” Kate said as cordially as she could, fighting the urge to look over her shoulder. The last thing she wanted was for Ellen’s private business to become fodder for the Copper Mill grapevine.
“Well, we decided to see where else he might go.”
“Martha. Dot. You need to be care—”
“Oh, we were careful. He never suspected a thing. We followed him all weekend.”
Kate didn’t know whether to laugh or shake her head. “I wish you
wouldn’t have—”
“But it was very easy,” Martha said. “That big Lincoln Continental of his can be seen from a mile away. Besides, he didn’t wander too far afield.”
Kate couldn’t help herself. “So, what did you find out?”
“He’s been visiting pawn shops and antique stores in Copper Mill, Nashville, McMinnville. All over the place. Looked like he was selling things.”
“Selling things? What do you mean?”
“We’re not sure what exactly. Just that he’d go into a shop with a bag or something like that and then come out empty-handed.”
“But that’s hardly criminal activity.”
Martha looked disappointed. “Well, I guess we thought he might lead us to the last painting. But we couldn’t very well follow him into the stores for fear we’d be found out.”
“I’m afraid that the painting might not exist anymore,” Kate said, not fully believing it herself but wanting to discourage Martha and Dot from such potentially dangerous pursuits. “Oliver told us it burned in a fire. He said he lost a number of—” Kate broke off abruptly, then asked, “How many places has Oliver been to since you’ve been following him?”
“Ten. Maybe fifteen,” Dot said.
“Do you think we’re onto something?” Martha asked, her face shining with triumph.
“Maybe.” Kate paused to consider this new piece of information. “Unless it’s the kind of thing he does all the time. And we don’t have any way to know that.”
“We could keep following him,” Martha offered. “It’s a lot of fun, really. Yesterday we borrowed wigs from Betty over at the beauty parlor so we’d be incognito.”
“Thanks so much for following your instincts. You’ve uncovered a possible lead for me. But I think you should probably lay low for now, for your own safety,” Kate said, halfway wishing she could have seen Dot and Martha in disguise.
Martha beamed, and even the normally more taciturn Dot looked pleased at Kate’s praise.
“By the way, where did he go last?” Kate asked.
“Smith Street Gifts right here in Copper Mill,” Martha said, naming the shop off the Town Square kitty-corner from the Mercantile.
“All right, then. I’ll see if I can find out anything from Steve Smith,” Kate said. “I need to drop by there anyway.”
Kate had sold several of her stained-glass pieces in the shop, and she stopped in from time to time to see if Steve needed more of them.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t keep following Oliver?” Martha asked, hope in her eyes.
“I think you’ve done a marvelous job. Now it’s my turn.” Kate patted the older woman’s shoulder. “Thank you. This may turn out to be just the break we need.”
At that moment, Sam Gorman called to Kate. Martha and Dot jumped guiltily, so Kate took the opportunity to send them on their way.
“Thanks again, ladies. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“You look pretty pleased about something,” Sam said as he approached.
Dot and Martha were already moving toward the door.
“Yes, I am,” Kate answered, but she didn’t elaborate. Instead, she hurried through her shopping so that she could make a beeline for the gift shop.
“HAVE I SEEN OLIVER COATS? Hmm.” Steve Smith, a mild-mannered man in his thirties, scratched his head.
“Tall man, dark hair?” Kate tried to prompt the shop owner’s memory. “From over in Pine Ridge. He might have been trying to put something on consignment with you. A family heirloom of some sort. Maybe a painting?”
Steve scratched his head. “I’m not sure—”
“He’s pleasant but a bit on the arrogant side.”
Steve’s face lit with recognition. “I know who you mean. Arrogant is definitely the word.”
“Do you remember what he brought to the shop?” Kate stopped herself from crossing her fingers.
“Yup. I can show it to you.”
Her pulse picked up. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
How ironic if the last painting turned out to be right there in the gift shop along with Kate’s work.
Steve motioned for her to follow him to the back of the shop. Kate moved briskly, hoping against hope that Steve might be leading her right to the clue she needed. After all, if Oliver had been selling heirlooms all over the area, he must have some reason. Perhaps—
“Here it is.” Steve pulled an object down from a storage shelf. “It has a couple of nicks, but otherwise it’s in good condition.”
The cut-glass punch bowl was easily recognizable. Kate wasn’t an expert when it came to antiques, but her mother had owned several pieces of the distinctive Fostoria glass.
“How much are you asking for it?” Kate asked. It had to be the punch bowl that had belonged to Ellen’s grandmother.
“For you? Seventy-five.”
Kate knew Steve was giving her a good price. And if she wasn’t able to solve Ellen’s mystery, at least she could return her grandmother’s punch bowl. “I’d like to purchase it.”
“Sure thing.”
While Steve wrote up the ticket and ran Kate’s credit card, Kate did a quick inventory to see if any more of her own pieces had sold. She thought she noticed a couple that were gone. Of course, she’d know more at the end of the month when Steve sent out receipts to all the artists and artisans whose work he carried.
“I wrapped it up for you.” Steve appeared at her side carrying a good-sized box. “That should protect it until you get it home.”
“Thank you. You’ve been a great help.”
Steve smiled. “It’s just a punch bowl. By the way, I hope you’re hard at work. I’m going to need some more of your pieces before too long.”
Kate thought of her recent sad attempts at her craft. “It may be a little while,” she warned him. “I seem to have hit an artistic snag.” She reached for the box, and Steve handed it over.
“I’m sure you’ll work through it. You’re too talented not to,” he said with a wink.
Kate laughed. “I appreciate your vote of confidence. And thank you again for the punch bowl.”
“Always happy to help.”
Steve opened the door for Kate. Burdened as she was with the large box, she almost ran over John Sharpe on the sidewalk outside the gift shop.
“Kate!” He smiled, clearly pleased to see her, but then his face clouded over.
Kate suspected that he was thinking about Paul’s abrupt resignation from the chamber of commerce.
“Hello, John. It’s good to see you.” Kate knew not to take it personally when someone was unhappy with her husband.
“Can I help you with that?” He nodded toward the box.
“That would be lovely. Thank you. My car’s just over there.” She nodded in the direction of her black Accord. “I’m glad we ran into each other because I have a question for you. When someone loses belongings in a fire, what’s the procedure for filing a claim? Do they have to offer proof of some kind that the items were lost?”
John’s eyebrows arched in surprise at her question, but as with most people, he enjoyed talking about the work he loved.
“Well, it’s best if they can submit receipts. Or if they have a photo or video inventory that gives visual proof of their claim.”
“What about family heirlooms? How would you handle the loss of those?”
“Depends on whether they were insured separately. What kind of heirlooms are we talking about? Silver? Jewelry?”
“A painting, specifically.”
“Sometimes those are registered, especially when they’re bought and sold.”
“The one I’m thinking of has always been in private hands.”
“Then I guess the agent would have to take his client’s word for it. Could there be some sort of record of an appraisal?”
“I don’t know about that,” Kate said. “I’ll have to check.” She smiled. “Thanks, John. You’ve been very helpful.”
When they reached her car, Kate unlocked
the passenger door, and John gently slid the box onto the seat.
“No problem,” he said, then he stopped, worry clouding his expression again. “About that day at the diner with Paul’s friend—”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me, John. That’s between you and my husband. Besides, I’m sure y’all will work it out, and everything will be fine.”
John frowned. “I just wanted to say that I regret going along with Lawton that day. Paul offered us a good opportunity, and we were too stubborn and stuck in our ways to appreciate it.” He paused and looked at her intently. “Would you tell Paul that I’m sorry? Pass that message along? We’d like for him to reconsider his resignation.”
“I’ll tell him, though I think it would mean more coming directly from you.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m afraid I have to scoot, but it’s good to talk to you.”
“Thanks, Kate. Take care.”
Kate walked around her car and slid into the driver’s seat, wishing she could have stayed longer to chat with John. But he needed to talk with Paul, not her. Paul had never been one to hold a grudge. She hoped the men would be able to work out their differences, because the chamber could certainly benefit from Paul’s experience and opinions. She made a mental addition to her prayer list.
Men, Kate thought with a smile. And then she laughed. Perhaps the differences between males and females weren’t so big after all.
Chapter Twenty
No matter what time of day or night Kate called Ellen’s apartment over the next few days, no one answered. Kate grew more worried with each passing hour. Ellen appeared to have left of her own accord, but Kate had a strong feeling that Oliver must have coerced her in some way.
Oliver’s other actions, as reported by Dot and Martha, had definitely raised Kate’s suspicions on another count. Why had he been selling off so many items? And were those items connected in any way to the fire?
On Tuesday, the day of her canceled art class, Kate called Livvy to ask her advice. “Now that Ellen’s gone, I don’t know what to do next.”
“Hmm.” Livvy was quiet for a moment. “Are you sure you shouldn’t do as Ellen asks and let the whole thing go?”
Where There’s a Will Page 16
