by Zuri Day
“It’s a free country.” This he said nonchalantly, as if he was too occupied to really care one way or another.
She picked up her glass of orange juice and moved to the chair next to his. “Hi. I’m Rachel.”
“Richard,” he said, still typing on his phone.
“I’m sorry for bothering you.” She spoke with just the right amount of petulance in her voice to let Richard know that his ploy was working.
He finished the Facebook entry he was making, then lifted his head and looked at her. “Please accept my apologies,” he murmured, seductive bass mixed with contriteness in his voice. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. It’s just that I’ve just reconnected with an old friend on Facebook, and was responding to an instant message that he’d sent.”
Partly true. It was an old friend. Except he was female.
“Oh, it’s okay. I just realized that you may be on the clock, or married, or simply not open to talking to strangers.”
Nice try to find out if I’m available. I might be. But I’ll keep you guessing. “I’m Richard Cunningham,” he said, extending his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Richard.”
He let his hand hold hers just a second longer than necessary before ending the handshake, then ran a finger over the softness of her palm. “You look familiar. Didn’t I see you at the dance the other night?”
“The Days of Paradise Ball? Of course you saw me. I think everyone in town was there.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t remember everyone. Most of them didn’t look as good as you.”
She flushed, a pretty shade of pink on her bronzed skin. “Thank you.”
“So, radiant Rachel, did you grow up here or are you a transplant like me?”
“I was born and raised in the Cove, left only briefly to attend college. I just graduated and have moved back until I figure out what’s next in my life.”
“This is a beautiful part of the country. It must have been nice growing up here.”
“It definitely has its pluses. But there are minuses, too. The small-town mentality,” she added when he raised a questioning brow. “Everybody knows your business, or thinks they do.”
“I’m here helping out a friend of mine with a construction project. Warren Drake. Do you know him?”
It was brief, but Richard was nothing if not astute. He saw the flash of hurt in her eyes before she blinked it away, and immediately knew that this person might be useful for whatever might happen in the future.
“Yes, my older sister went to high school with Warren and our families travel in the same circle. How do you know him if you didn’t grow up here?”
“I spent a lot of time at his grandfather’s house in New Orleans. His grandmother and my mother became friends. When Warren came and stayed during the summer, we were almost inseparable. We attended the same college, too. After that we lost contact for a minute. But I’m glad we’ve reconnected. He’s good people.”
She didn’t respond.
“So, Rachel...do you know any juicy gossip about the old Drake place, where Warren is building his home?”
“Just about everyone in town knows the old gold mine stories. But we also know there’s nothing to them, that they’re probably a myth.” She shrugged her dainty, designer-clad shoulders. “That’s about it.”
“Gold?” Richard made sure that his face looked as skeptical as he sounded.
“Exactly. The story goes that a long time ago, like at least twenty-five, thirty years back, his grandfather, Walter Drake, and a partner found gold on their land. Some of the older citizens, including my grandmother, swear that they’ve seen nuggets that Walter himself showed them. But my mother doesn’t believe there is any truth to the rumors, otherwise more of it would have been found by now, and by other people who have land in the surrounding area. So we think it’s just one more part of what the elder Drake has tried to maintain as the Drake mystique.”
“I find that story hard to believe myself. Like I said, me and Warren are tight, and he’s never mentioned anything about gold on that land. So believe me, if there was any truth to the story, I’d know about it.”
Even as he said this, he remembered the paperweight and what Warren had said: Mined right in this part of the country.
The waiter delivered his Parmesan chicken strips and her baked salmon. “Right now,” he continued as he seasoned his entrée, “there’s something else I’d like to know.” Again, his voice had slid into that dreamy quality that he’d practiced on girls since puberty and honed over the years. “I want to know if a man like me can get a date with a girl like you. Because even if there was a ton of gold around here...you look like this place’s most valuable treasure.”
Chapter 21
Two days later, Warren sat in the front seat of his father’s Lincoln, waiting curbside at Oakland International Airport to pick up his grandfather. They’d just pulled up when they saw the dark, distinguished gentleman pulling a carry-on bag.
Warren jumped out of the car. “There’s the man!” He met his grandfather in the middle of the sidewalk and gave him a big hug. “Let’s get you in the car and get going. At this airport they won’t let you idle for long.”
Once Walter was settled and buckled into the front seat and had exchanged greetings with Ike, he turned to Warren. “Did you remember what I told you before I left home?”
Warren chuckled. “You said that if you flew all the way out here and found nothing but gold dust to accompany that nugget, I’d owe you a thousand dollars plus all your expenses.”
“Well, after all the fuss my wife made at me coming out here...make that two thousand dollars!”
The men laughed.
“How is Grandma Claire?” Warren asked.
“Yes, how is Mama doing?” Ike echoed. “Is she still in denial about her arthritis?”
“Your mama told me that there was only one man in her life, and his name wasn’t Arthur!”
They burst into laughter again.
“She’s doing pretty good. Still making those praline pies and spoiling Reginald’s children.” Reginald was the lone married child in Ike and Jennifer’s clan, a point that Jennifer often made to the remaining siblings. “She also wants to know if y’all are all going to be down for Christmas.”
“That’s the plan.”
“I told her before I left that we might have some gold to put under the tree. She told me not to hold my breath.”
“Grandma Claire has always been pragmatic.”
“Yes, her common sense has kept these old feet on the ground and money that otherwise might have been squandered gathering interest in the bank!”
The men continued talking while driving to the Drake family home, where Walter would freshen up, and then travel on to the site that he demanded to see before relaxing. Warren looked left and right as Ike Sr. drove down the long, tree-lined drive of Drake Ranch, still marveling that his dream of a home on this spot of land was so close to reality.
“This is it,” he said proudly, placing a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder. “The new and improved Drake Ranch.”
“More like the one and only Drake Ranch, boy. Back when me and Charles owned it, it was called Northern California Dairy Farm.”
“Gee, real creative, Grandpa,” Warren drawled.
“We weren’t as concerned about the name as the money it would produce,” Walter countered.
“Let that be a lesson to you, son,” Ike Sr. cautioned.
Warren could only nod in agreement.
They pulled up to the wide drive area, next to where a couple golf carts sat idle. Warren had phoned Jackson while Walter freshened up at his parents’ house, so as soon as they drove up, he walked their way. Introductions were made before the men transferred to the golf cart and rode over to where the pool was being dug.
There, they met Jackson’s subcontractor, Tom, who’d stayed behind to watch over the area...just in case.
“Good to meet you, Mr. Drake,” Tom said as he removed his hard hat. “I t
hink we might have something here. While y’all were gone, I took the liberty of sinking the bucket back down a time or two into the area where I’d found that first nugget. Then I handpicked through the dirt. Look what I found.”
He opened his palm and revealed seven little rocks, similar to the one Warren had showed his dad.
“We’re going to have to shut down your operation,” Walter immediately said. “Get a security team over here, and a group of men that we can trust.”
“You can trust Tom,” Jackson said.
“Of course we can trust Jackson,” Warren added.
“I’ll only need five or six guys to dig,” Tom stated, fixing his gaze on Walter. “But I have to tell you, sir, I don’t know a thing about mining for gold.”
Walter nodded. “That’s why I’m here. If you’ve got the guys to work the machinery, I’ve got the knowledge to instruct them on what needs to be done. And a friend that I can call for backup. Won’t take us more than four or five days to determine if this is a serious find or wishful thinking.” He turned to Warren. “We’re going to have to mess up more of your land, boy.”
“No problem.”
“And more than anything, we’ll have to keep this quiet. Even with security, if the right amount of information gets heard by the wrong set of ears...there might be hell to pay.”
* * *
Charli casually roamed the aisles of Paradise Cove’s most upscale boutique. She wasn’t interested in buying anything. No, this was the every-other-week girl time that Miss Alice insisted on having, or tried to, whenever Charli couldn’t find a legitimate excuse to beg out of the affair. But she had to admit that for the first time in a long time she was showing more interest in the clothes on the rack and wondering whether or not Warren would appreciate seeing her in this or that outfit. Much to her chagrin.
Since he’d spent time with Griff at their house, she’d resisted the urge to contact him. As much as she’d wanted to. The night after his visit, she’d scoured her mind for a reason to call him. Two days later, she’d come close to driving over for a neighborly “do drop in.” Yesterday, as her cows drank at the stream, she’d heard the sounds of heavy equipment and had almost ridden Butterscotch over to see the progress. He wouldn’t have thought that forward...would he? In the end, she’d done nothing. Past memories and present insecurities had kept her away.
Charli wandered over to where Alice was admiring a beautiful navy blue suit. As if she needs another. There were more clothes still sporting price tags in her good friend’s closet than should be legally allowed. Still, she knew how much Alice loved their outings, loved to gossip and loved to believe that she was impacting Charli’s life. And she was. Alice and Charles had been good friends. Truth be told, Charli had come to believe that the two had been even closer than that. And given the fact that her and her mother’s relationship was held together by long-distance calls, Alice was the closest female friend that Charli had. So even as she was bored out of her gourd, she made a silent vow to herself to keep this in mind.
“Miss Alice. I think I’ll go across the way and get some cash from the ATM. I’ll be right back, okay?”
“That’s fine, Charli.” She held up two navy suits. “Which one looks better?”
“I like the one with the straight skirt,” Charli said, pointing to her choice. “I think it would be flattering to your figure.”
“I was thinking so, too. So I’ll just purchase this one and meet you at the car.”
“Sounds good.”
Charli smiled at the nice salesclerk as she left the store. It was rare that she ventured into town but whenever she did, she was impressed by what Paradise Cove had done with this strip mall. Many times around the country they got a bad rap, but this one was classy. The nail salon was neat and clean, the dry cleaners eco-friendly, the coffee shop was a popular meeting spot for the town’s elders and there wasn’t a run-down building in sight. This was Paradise Cove, after all. Mostly, she loved the two businesses that anchored the spot: a family-owned grocery boasting organic and homegrown goodies and one of her favorite restaurants, Acquired Taste. The grocery store was where the ATM was located.
She headed over, humming softly, taking in the beautiful day and thinking about Warren. Again. She couldn’t help it. Since he’d won over Griff, he’d been a constant presence—not only in her mind but in Griff’s also. At least if their recent conversations were any indication. In the last week or so, they’d talked more about the dairy back when things were good, when Charles and Walter were friends. Griff had shared stories she’d never heard before about their legendary chess games and fishing excursions. They’d even talked about Charles’s wife, Martha, the grandmother that Charli barely remembered because a car accident had taken her away too soon.
Just as she reached the grocery store, the last person in the world that she wanted to see was coming out.
Great. Just my luck. Of all the times and all the locations, I have to see you. In moments like these, Charli was reminded of just how small this town could be.
“Hello, beautiful.” Cedric blocked her way inside the store.
“Move, Cedric.” It was spoken in a voice that showed no love lost.
“What’s your problem? You dissed me at the dance. You hung up when I called you. You’re treating me like a piece of crap when you should be treating me like what I am, one of your oldest friends.” Charli rolled her eyes and remained silent. “Do you seriously want me to believe that you’re still fretting about something that happened a long time ago, back when we were kids?”
“I don’t know, Cedric. How would you suggest I forget the night you tried to rape me?”
Chapter 22
“Rape you? Girl, you’re overreacting.”
“I don’t think so.” Once again, Charli tried to go around him. And once again, Cedric blocked her path.
“Cedric, I don’t want to talk to you. Ever. Now move!”
“Not until we settle this little...misunderstanding. You’re not the only one who remembers that night. Your grandfather’s party, our families all happy, drinking and whatnot. You had on that cute little minidress, teasing me, flirting with me all night.”
“You are such a liar. At the time my grandfather had that dance, animals were my best friends. Boys were the last thing on my mind.”
“So you tried to get everyone to believe. But I knew you were hot to trot.”
“Back then you were too ignorant to know much of anything.” She looked him up and down with disdain. “I see nothing much has changed.”
Cedric’s eyes narrowed. He took a step closer.
Charli took a step back and placed a suggestive hand on her purse. Cedric didn’t miss the gesture and backed up a bit.
“If you thought I tried to attack you, then why didn’t you tell anybody? Why did you leave the barn, go back to the party and act as though nothing had occurred?”
“Because I was ashamed!” she spat, tears threatening to spill as memories escaped from where she’d locked them. “Because the last thing I wanted was for anyone else to know how stupid I’d been, how naive I was to believe that you actually wanted to come with me and see a baby colt!”
Cedric’s laugh was low and sinister. “Baby, what I was looking for that night? I still want to see it.”
This time it was Charli who took a step forward, anger guiding her moves. “Listen, you pigheaded jerk, and listen closely. I’m going to try one last time to penetrate that thick thing above your shoulders that usually houses a brain. Obviously not in your case but...here goes.
“I am not interested in you. I have never been interested in you and never will be. There is no part of the words relationship, friendship or acquaintance that I want to establish with you. If you were the last person on earth and held the last glass of water, I’d die rather than drink it. The only thing you are to me is someone that I used to know. And the best thing, the right thing and the only thing you can do for me is this. Leave. Me. Alone!”
“Bet you’d never say anything like that to Warren,” Cedric snapped from behind her.
She whirled around. “Warren Drake has more class in his toenail than you do in your entire body.”
She pushed open the door, entered the store and had no idea how long after she left Cedric continued to stand there, or the evil thoughts he vowed to see through to the end.
Later, Charli was still trying to calm down from the afternoon confrontation when her phone rang. When she didn’t immediately recognize the number, she started not to answer it. Then she remembered that she’d blocked Cedric’s number. And then she remembered something else: to whom this number belonged.
She snatched up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, there you are. I was all prepared to leave a message.”
“Hey, Drake.” The fact that just hearing his voice helped calm her nerves was not lost on her.
“Sounds like I caught you in the middle of something. You sound out of breath.”
“I’m all right. Just rushed to grab the phone. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to warn you that we’ll be doing some extensive excavating over the next few days. Might come real close to the property line, maybe dig up some of your land. We’ll fix any part of your place that gets damaged. Also wanted to make sure that you still had a key to the gate, since the electricity might be out during the process.”
She plopped down on her bed, glad to have her mind distracted by mundane, everyday matters, such as things that concerned the ranch. “What’s up with all the digging?”
“A couple of things. One of which is that the crew that’s laying pipe that will be connected to my in-ground pool wants to check out the surrounding grounds, make sure there are no craters or sand traps that can later become sinkholes.”
Charli almost shuddered as she remembered the recent news story about a sinkhole that opened up in Southern California and swallowed a whole house. “Do you think that’s possible? That we have sinkholes around us?”
