Wildfire and Roses

by Hope Malory

  ~ ~ ~

  When the phone rang, she groaned. “Please don’t let this be work,” she muttered before answering.

  “Beasley, this is Will.”

  A shiver of pleasure washed over her. “What a pleasant surprise.” Why was her voice so high-pitched? Her heart galloped at the speed of a winner at the Kentucky Derby. She closed her eyes and took a calming breath.

  At first, the conversation was awkward, but as they talked, she became more comfortable. After she apprised him of the new account, he shared about a new job assignment, conducting training at the fire department.

  The exchange reminded her of their long talks in California. The feelings she had developed for him were difficult to put aside. The man was amazing with such a good heart. She considered telling him how much she missed him but decided against it. What’s the point?

  Although, she imagined a relationship with him, how could she give everything up she worked so hard for?

  “Do you remember the triathlon we talked about?” Will asked. “You mentioned you might participate. Since I didn’t hear from you, I assumed you weren’t coming, but thought I would check.”

  She noted the ever-so-slight quiver in his voice. He had rushed through his words. He’s nervous. More than anything, she wanted to take off and fly to California.

  “Will, I wish I could, but with my crazy schedule, I can’t leave. Let me know how it goes.”

  “Sure thing. Congratulations, and best of luck with your project. You’ll be great.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad you called. And, Will, you can call me anytime.”

  “That goes both ways.”

  Tears sheened her eyes, and her heart pounded inside her chest. Why does this hurt so much? I have cared about two men, and neither one is available. Ever since she had met Will, she seldom thought about Dalton. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath as memories swirled through her head.

  Those carefree days with Will when they were together came to mind. She had been happy then. He was everything she could wish for in a man. The memory of his warm, full lips on hers, his arms holding her close, and the love shining in his eyes . . . Wait, that couldn’t be true. He didn’t love her. ‘Fond’ was the term he used, and he described her as his kayaking partner.

  But the desire in his eyes had mirrored what she felt for him. Did he harbor the same deep affection and passion for her as she did him? There was something undeniable between them. Will was a compassionate, unselfish, caring man with a zest for life. The warmth, tenderness, and intimacy they had shared spoke volumes. What if . . . ?

  As a distraction, she did yoga stretches and made a cup of herbal tea before starting on her long to-do list. Progress on the new account surpassed her expectations. Projects almost always encounter setbacks, but so far, they were on schedule with only minor issues. When Mr. King met her at the property last week, he’d praised her efficiency and design.

  Busier than ever, she had dragged herself into the house late and at the point of exhaustion most nights in the last few weeks. “This won’t last forever,” she reasoned. Scheduling Millie on weekends allowed her to take at least one day off, but she often showed up anyway. This morning, she stayed home and slept late. A rare occurrence. Her parents valued a strong work ethic. They had always encouraged her to work hard and be successful. Still, she neglected her friends and family.

  After taking a sip of tea, she reached for the phone and called Brenner. “I’m sorry I haven’t been available to help with the house since I started the King project. I promise I’ll come later in the afternoon.”

  “Wonders never cease.”

  Ignoring the sarcasm, she added, “And I plan to research too.”

  Because of the long hours, she had fallen behind on everything. The refrigerator was bare, her house needed cleaning, and some of her bills were due in three days. Her laundry baskets overflowed, and she had nothing clean to wear. Worst of all, she couldn’t find time to work out, and it was obvious. Between the lack of exercise and opting for fast foods, she was sluggish and soft. Rather than grabbing something at a drive-through, she pledged to cook healthy meals and eat leftovers during the week. As the morning wore on, she marked things off her list and finished by one o’clock. If all went according to plan, she would be at the house at around two and would work until four or five.

  She jerked when the phone rang and interrupted her. “Hi, Millie. Is everything all right?”

  “I’m sorry, but I need you here. Are you able to come?”

  “Can it wait until Monday? I planned to help Brenner at the house this afternoon.”

  “It’s important. I think you’ll want to see this.”

  “Sure. I’m leaving now.”

  She phoned Brenner to tell her she couldn’t go to the house today but would try her best to go tomorrow. Canceling responsibilities, other than those related to her job, was becoming the norm. Work monopolized her time these days. While her sister didn’t express her disappointment, she sensed it.

  On her way into the office, she recalled the urgency in Millie’s voice. What could the crisis be?

  ~ ~ ~

  Will stewed about the phone call with Beasley. While he rarely bothered with television, he turned it on to an action movie to take his mind off the conversation. After the feature ended, he replayed their dialogue in his head. She seemed to be glad he’d called, but she said nothing to suggest she missed him as much as he missed her. The question, “Am I wasting my time thinking about her?” cycled through his mind. As expected, she was busy. She had a business to run. Why did I call? I should have known better.

  But, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Reminiscing about their times together, he asked himself, Will I ever feel this way about any other woman? Just seeing her put a smile on his face. It felt like they had been a real couple. She was everything he had ever hoped and dreamed of in a girlfriend.

  The first thing that struck him was her looks. She took him by surprise with her competence and countless abilities. The sass, the strength of character, and the sweet side hooked him. Then, when he got to know her better and found out all the layers and nuances that made her who she was, he was even more fascinated. Getting over her would be harder than he realized, but something he must do. It sucks.

  After his time with her, he’d realized he wanted someone to spend his life with. Too bad it couldn’t have been her.

  ~ ~ ~

  Stepping into the office, Beasley saw Millie poring over paperwork. “What’s going on?”

  “Since work was slow, I went through some files and located unpaid bills two and three months overdue.”

  Beasley’s eyes grew wide. “That doesn’t sound like Rhoda. While she isn’t the most pleasant person to work with at times, she is competent.”

  “Why don’t you check? Perhaps you can find something I didn’t.”

  Beasley started her computer. “This is crazy. We sit down every few weeks to go over the accounts. Rhoda mentioned nothing about this.”

  “How long has she been your accountant?”

  “The former owners hired her. Because she’s been here longer than me and she helped train me, sometimes she acts like the business is hers.”

  Millie agreed. “Yes, I noticed. She gets testy when I ask questions about finances.”

  “Let’s try to figure out what’s going on.”

  Beasley clicked on the financials and scrolled through the prior three months. In the current month, she located the oldest bill marked paid. Rhoda had paid it the same day the check cleared from the advance for the new account.

  “None of this makes sense. The balances show plenty of money in the accounts to pay the bills on time.”

  “Has she been forgetful or distracted?”

  “Not forgetful that I recall
, but maybe distracted. She has been moodier and more confrontational.”

  Millie hesitated. “Hate to even ask, but is it possible she has a different set of books?”

  “I doubt it, but let’s search her computer to see if we can figure this out. I have her password.”

  Beasley reached into her desk drawer for the key, and the two of them entered Rhoda’s office. “Let’s hope we can find out what’s going on. I hate to wait until Monday, but if I call her on the weekend, she’ll think I’m suspicious of wrongdoing. I still think there’s a plausible explanation.”

  She scrolled through the past three months and found the records were duplicates of the ones on her laptop.

  Millie pointed to a folder titled Rhoda Cordasco. “Should we check that? It may be personal.”

  “This is company property. I can search any computer at any time.”

  After clicking on the file, a box popped up instructing her to enter the password. She typed in the usual password. Her brows drew together. “Hmm, how odd. She set a different password for this, and that is against company policy. All we can do is ask her what’s going on when she arrives for work. Let’s not make any judgments yet. It isn’t like her to make mistakes. Rather, I expect she can correct this error with ease.”

  At least, she hoped so.

  She shut down the computers and locked Rhoda’s door. “Thanks for calling me. We’ll talk again first thing Monday morning.”

  By the time she wheeled into her driveway, it was three-thirty, too late to help Brenner at the house. But, she had time to fit in a little research. Typing in ‘Grainger Devlin III’ and ‘Manhattan’ yielded several articles dating back to 1979, the year he married. One stated the Devlin Group had named him vice president. Multiple stories divulged the family had amassed millions in real estate, but she gleaned little new information about any of them. Other features mentioned him, along with other millionaires, struggling with rising interest rates in 1980 and 1981. By the latter year, the fed rates had climbed to over twenty percent, and mortgages had topped out at over eighteen. How do people buy houses at those levels? I can’t imagine paying that much.

  This intrigued her, and she continued reading. Subsequent articles described the rising number of bankruptcies. One mentioned the Devlin Group as struggling to remain solvent. The next named their corporation as one empire that collapsed during the era. At the end of that year, the company declared bankruptcy. Per the article, Grainger Devlin III purchased aggressively in 1979 and early 1980 with huge bank loans. When the interest rates rose to record highs, they couldn’t pay their debts, nor could they sell the properties for what they had in them.

  “Ouch,” she mumbled. She read the last article on the page before calling it quits for the day and going for a bike ride. A photograph of a young man preceded the story.

  “Ooh, he was gorgeous,” she said aloud. She sucked in her breath when she perused the caption under the picture. “Oh, no!”

  Scanning the column, she shook her head in disbelief. After she finished reading, she picked up her phone and punched in Brenner’s number. When her sister didn’t answer, she left a message. “Brenner, I found an old write-up about the Devlins. Call me.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Brenner stopped work at the house and went home to dress for her date with Tony. Her boyfriend drove up in his GTO with the top down and his long hair windblown. “Hi there, gorgeous.”

  She waved and dashed toward his car. “Hello, handsome.”

  She climbed in, and they drove the five miles to their destination with the wind whipping through their hair.

  Tony’s band practiced in the basement of the lead singer’s house. Brenner and three other girlfriends came to listen. The guys rehearsed their set for the gig scheduled for the following weekend in South Carolina.

  “Why don’t you come to Myrtle Beach with us? You can stay with me.”

  “I want to see you play, but it’s too soon for us to travel together.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying. Another time.”

  The group went for pizza after practice. At Pete’s Pies, the pitchers of beer emptied fast. Brenner sipped a glass of diet soda. The band members, including Tony, were all drunk. She would be the one to chauffeur him home. The group grew so loud other customers glared at them. She fidgeted in her seat. “Time for us to go. I’ll drive you home.”

  When they stopped at his apartment, he kissed and groped her. She moved his hands.

  “Come on. Don’t be a prude,” he murmured and kissed her again.

  For the second time, she moved him away, but when he didn’t quit, she shouted, “STOP!” and gave him a hard shove.

  Scowling, he said, “Sorry. I thought you wanted this.”

  “No, Tony, I don’t. I wouldn’t have pushed you away if I’d wanted it. Go sleep it off. You can come for your car tomorrow.”

  He slammed the door.

  Chapter 13

  Beasley rose earlier than usual to get a head start on the week. Padding barefoot to the deck on this clear, warm Sunday morning carrying a mug of steaming black coffee, she replayed the events of the weekend, starting with Will’s unexpected call.

  Hearing his voice again triggered all those emotions she’d had when they were together. When she left California, she didn’t want to let him go, but she couldn’t commit to seeing him again either. It would hurt too much. Stop obsessing, Beasley.

  The unpaid bills Millie had called about baffled her. Why didn’t Rhoda pay them on time? Sloppy work for an accountant. The conversation with her will not be pleasant.

  And the newspaper account of the youngest Mr. Devlin astounded her. Brenner would be just as shocked. Her sister’s tone had registered disappointment when she called yesterday and informed her she needed to go into the office and couldn’t help. To appease her, she would stop to pick up her favorite sandwich, and she planned to work at the house all afternoon.

  She whipped into the drive-through, ordered a Reuben and fries, and then headed to the house. Brenner had left the front door unlocked. Stepping inside, Beasley asked, “Where are you?”

  “Hey, you came. I’m in the attic.”

  “Why don’t you come down, so I can tell you something?”

  After bolting down the steps, Brenner spied the sack of food. “Did you bring this for me? Since I didn’t eat lunch, I’m starved.”

  “All yours.”

  Before she had finished those two words, Brenner removed the Reuben from the bag and took a huge bite. “What were you going to tell me?”

  Beasley recounted the story about the Devlins’ move to Manhattan and the promotion to vice president. She told her about the younger man’s buying spree, the rise in interest rates, and the ultimate bankruptcy. She exhaled. “The last article showed a picture of him. The caption below it read, ‘Real Estate Mogul Commits Suicide.’”

  Brenner’s eyes rounded, and her mouth opened. “Wow, what did it say?”

  “That he was despondent over bankrupting his empire, and they found him in his office with a bullet in his head. The reporter said he left a note but didn’t reveal the contents. Most of the article contained a history of the company and named the survivors. Nothing we didn’t already know.”

  “Well, this may be the end of the trail, but perhaps we can locate something else.”

  “I’ll continue to search and try to find something. The debt notices in their names must result from their financial difficulties, but nothing so far has explained why they showed up in Nonna’s attic.”

  “We may never find out.”

  “Might not. How was your date with Tony?”

  Brenner rolled her eyes. “Went well until he had too much to drink and got handsy with me. To his credit, he stopped when I ordered him to.”

  Beasley knew h
er sister wouldn’t put up with his shenanigans, so she remained silent on the issue.

  As Beasley conducted her inspection of the house, the progress impressed her. “The kitchen is beautiful. Love the quartz countertops and tile backsplash. Last week, I noticed several of the windows were painted shut. I’ll work on those.”

  Using her Leatherman tool, she slid the blade along the bottom of the sill and up the sides. With a slight tap of a hammer, the window loosened enough to open. The same procedure worked for the other four in the living room. The rest could wait until another time. After washing the outside of the front windows, she hosed off the porch and extracted a few dead plants from the flowerbeds.

  The basement held a garage and an expansive open but windowless space used for storage. Junk had collected over the years, and the whole area needed a thorough cleaning, which they could postpone until after they moved in.

  When she went inside, Brenner balanced on a stepladder and retrieved stacks of folded clothing from the top shelf of a closet. “Won’t be long now. There isn’t much more to do,” Beasley commented.

  “After we empty the ten boxes left in the attic and clean out a couple of closets, we’ll have finished clearing Nonna’s things. The guys are coming next week to pull up the carpet and determine what shape the hardwood is in. With any luck, we will only need to have it sanded and restained to match the rest of the floors.”