by Judy Kentrus
“Can I punch him in the mouth for ruining my car and threatening my animals?”
“You’ll have to get in line,” Preston said. “I protect what is mine.”
“No one is going to get physical,” Margaret laughed. “When they arrive, I will do the talking and ask Lieutenant Adams to stay as an official police witness. Remember, he can’t be officially charged with anything, but before he leaves, I will make sure he pays for what he did to you.”
“What about Mildred?”
“I have to give her situation more thought.”
Jessie, looking official in her lieutenant’s uniform, escorted them into Margaret’s chambers. Mildred, a great deal shorter than her bear of a son, was dressed in a black two-piece suit, making the white streak in her hair more prominent. Harold was also dressed in formal black. Before the judge invited them to be seated at the table, Mildred went off like a firecracker.
“I want him arrested for what he did to Cindi Pearl! I’m appalled!” She glowered murderously at her son, who stood stoic with his hands hanging down at his sides. The downtrodden look on his face was that of a little boy who was about to get a switch to his backside.
“I raised him better than that!” Despite the artful application of makeup, her complexion was red from anger. “He confessed this morning about the car, the garbage and threatening you with the stuffed animal. He did it so the derby organization wouldn’t go after me for the money I borrowed.” She turned to her son and jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. “Well, what do you have to say to Cindi Pearl? Apologize!”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sullivan. I hope your animals are okay. I didn’t mean to scare them. I couldn’t let Ma go to jail. She took us in when nobody cared. It was wrong what I did, but Carole, Ron and I don’t know what we would do without her. We love Ma.”
“I understand the lengths people will go to when they love someone.” Cindi didn’t realize the truth of her statement, until the words had left her mouth. Hadn’t she been doing that all along for Preston? When his fingers tightened on her hand, she knew he also understood her comment.
Lieutenant Adams addressed Mildred Cummings. “So you admit you helped yourself to the hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”
“Yes, but I’m prepared to replace the money in full. My children are unaware of the stock I inherited from my grandfather. It’s been in the family for years, and selling it would have resulted in a big loss. I was waiting for my yearly dividend check before I put the money back in the account. I never anticipated getting sick.” Mildred opened her large purse, withdrew a cashier’s check and passed it to Cindi Pearl. “Here is the full amount, plus six percent interest. I know it was wrong to borrow the money, but I needed the extra funds to cover Carole’s and Ron’s medical expenses and my own. Every year, the dividends covered what I borrowed. I’m just so embarrassed. The board of directors will never want me back.”
Cindi was overwhelmed and very grateful for the check in her hand. This mess could finally be cleared up. “Thank you, Mildred. If it will make you feel any better, I never reported the incident to the board, so it will stay in this room. You won’t be allowed to handle the treasurer’s responsibilities, but we can always use extra hands in other areas. As for bringing in additional funds, Preston and the judge have an idea for Carole and Ron to earn money on their own.”
“You are a good person, Cindi Pearl Sullivan, not like my son,” she said, giving Harold the evil eye. “I want him arrested.”
“Putting him in jail would be the legal thing to do” Margaret said. “There’s a strong possibility he would lose his job, creating a big financial hole for you and the others.”
“Ma needs my salary.” Panic filled Harold’s voice.
“I’m aware of the importance of you being able to work,” the judge said. “Right now your fate rests with Ms. Sullivan. She’ll have to drop the complaints officially.”
Do a good deed, for a friend in need, screamed in Cindi’s head. She looked to Preston for direction, and he shook his head.
“The decision is yours,” Preston said. “Whatever you decide, you have my support.”
“Okay, I’ll drop the complaints, but Harold can’t get away without some type of punishment.”
The judge gave Cindi a soft smile. “Putting the needs of others before your own is a rare quality in a person. I will abide by your decision, and punishment will be administered by me.”
Margaret addressed Mildred. “Officially you should be charged with embezzlement, but I understand you were thinking of your family. You are very fortunate Ms. Sullivan didn’t address this issue with the board of directors. They might have pursued criminal charges. Since you’ve already included six percent interest in your check, I will eliminate your fine. Officially you will be barred from handling the funds for the derby organization.”
She shifted her attention to Harold. “You’ve already admitted your guilt, but Lieutenant Adams will take your official statement. If it were up to me, I’d throw you in jail for criminal mischief and destruction of private property and tack on a stiff fine. You will pay for the damage to Ms. Sullivan’s car and make a five-hundred-dollar donation to the county ASPCA. You will also be required to put in two thousand hours of community service at the Laurel Heights animal shelter. The job includes picking up, in plain English, dog shit.”
Cindi lost it and burst out laughing.
Chapter 13
Three weeks later, Cindi stood on the top row of the bleachers to get a bird’s eye view of the completed Laurel Heights Soap Box Derby Track. It had turned out better than she’d ever anticipated. Rich green grass framed silver metal step bleachers, and white lines denoted the lanes on the black tarmac. A marquee arched over the racing corridor, and colorful banner flags fluttered atop it in the morning breeze. By noon, every seat would be taken, and the first two cars would officially christen the raceway. It was a dream come true, and she didn’t know who was more excited, she or the kids.
Once again, the town had shown their generosity in this new venture. The awards ceremony would be held in the open pavilion, courtesy of Whipper Hardware. The beautiful award trophies had been donated by the businesses in Laurel Heights. A number of gift baskets had been given for raffle prizes. She wouldn’t mind winning the one from Jojo’s Curl Up n Dye that offered an entire spa day. The concession stand would be open for business and the drinks would be free, courtesy of the Spoonful Café. Samantha had baked a slew of cookies that would be handed out to attendees.
The twenty-four derby cars had been stored in the metal storage building paid for by Henry Long and erected by Long Construction. She’d check with the guards earlier, and they would bring the two dozen cars to the starting point by eleven. When her cell phone rang, she reached into the pocket of her jeans, hoping it was Preston. He’d taken the red-eye out of LA and said he’d call as soon as he landed. She missed him like crazy. But it was her friend Terry.
“Cindi, I was hoping to catch you before the race. The specially equipped transport van you sent is perfect. We also got the shirts. The kids are so excited.”
“I’m glad you and the Super Kids are going to be here, but I didn’t order a special van or send derby shirts.”
“Well, it’s here. There is also a fifteen-passenger van for parents and handlers. The truck just left with the kids’ cars.”
Cindi made her way down the metal steps to the bottom. “I’m totally unaware of this game plan.”
Some of the enthusiasm faded from Terry’s voice. “I got an e-mail telling me about the arrangements. The man also called to confirm pickup times. On top of that, he sent a generous donation to the Super Kids organization. Is the race still on?”
“Absolutely. Did he tell you his name?
“Mr. Smith.”
“Smith? I don’t know anyone by that name.”
“According to the schedule, the Super Kids will be second in the line-up, so we’ll see you a little before noon.”
&nb
sp; “The committee also neglected to send me the change in the racing order. Tell the kids I can’t wait to see them.”
The moment she ended her call with Terry, her phone rang a second time, indicating a text message. She sighed with happy relief. Plane just touched runway. Can’t wait to hold you in my arms. I love you!
She texted back. Hurry. You owe me two weeks of kisses. I am already at the track. I love you, too!
An hour later, the stands started to fill up. Cindi was getting nervous. Preston still hadn’t arrived. She was surprised to see Mildred Cummings and Harold Webber. They’d brought Carole and Ron to the festivities. The bottom row of the bleachers had been eliminated to make it wheelchair-accessible. Mildred held out her hands in greeting, minus her gaudy rings. She’d forgone her flowery dress and paired the neon-purple derby shirt with a long black skirt.
“Here she is! The maker of miracles. Come, I want you to meet my other children.”
Mildred’s happiness was obvious. “I’d love to meet them,” Cindi said.
Carole Gibbons was as delicate as a fairy. Her alabaster-white hair hung loose like a gossamer curtain, and a wide-brimmed hat kept the sun off her delicate facial features. She wore a long flowing dress of soft mint green. The woman was quite beautiful. Ron Tremont displayed a mixed heritage of Asian descent. His ink-black hair was caught up in a short ponytail at the back of his neck. He was quite slender and wore jeans and a derby shirt. Sunglasses hid his eyes, and the brim of his baseball cap shaded his clean-shaven face.
“I am so grateful,” Carole began, clutching Cindi’s hand with long, slender fingers. “Lillian Charles came to the house. She loved my pictures and is going to create a special area in her shop just for me. I’m going to be there and featured at the grand opening. This is like a dream come true. Thank you!”
“You are more than welcome, and I look forward to seeing your work.”
“I would like to add my thanks,” Ron said. “I got a call from Reggie DeWitt, the head computer tech in the Manhattan office of Adams Security. He arranged for the company helicopter to fly me in to their NY office to meet with their cyber game unit. I’m very excited to be working with a great bunch of people.” He raised a thick black brow at his mother. “Ma won’t be borrowing any more money. My generous salary will cover expenses.”
Cindi didn’t mention that she’d made all the arrangements, which included a special transport van to pick him up from the airport. “I’m so glad it worked out. You will love working with Reggie and the rest of his team.”
Cindi spun around when someone behind her cleared his throat. Harold Webber, dressed in a derby shirt and jeans, twisted his hands nervously. Before speaking, he removed his baseball hat.
“I hope there aren’t any hard feelings. I’m really sorry for what I did.” He lifted his official nametag suspended by the cloth lanyard around his neck. “I volunteered my pickup to haul the derby cars after the race. Last week, I started my hours at the animal shelter. I really like working with the critters. Ma isn’t too happy with me right now. I brought home two kittens, one for Carole and the other for Ron.”
“He also adopted the ugliest dog you’ve ever seen,” Ron added with a laugh. “Manfred is a loveable mutt and gets along with the kittens.”
The annoying ring of her cell phone interrupted their conversation, and she let it go to message. The number was from the shop that had her VW. She’d been notified a week ago that they were waiting for the special lavender-color paint from the manufacturer, so repairs would be delayed.
After thanking Harold for his help, she headed for the concession stand to get a much-needed cup of coffee and recalled the message. Her heart sank. Today of all days, they were delivering her car at eleven this morning.
“Well, shit!” she muttered, pushing open the side door to the kitchen area of the concession stand. Samantha and Sallie Mae, along with Billy Landis, were passing out coffee, cold drinks and cookies to the race spectators who had come early to get good seats.
“Coffee!” Without saying a word, Samantha passed Cindi Pearl a cup.
“Where is your hunky shadow?” Samantha asked.
“On his way from the airport.”
“Ya know, that’s funny.” Sallie Mae adjusted the bib of her apron, which covered her derby shirt. It was a bit too tight over her very large boobs. “I thought I saw his fancy car the other day going down Main Street.”
“Had to be someone else. Preston has been in LA for the past two weeks.”
“Well, I could be wrong.”
“Speaking of cars, mine is being delivered this morning, so I have to head home.”
“Great timing.” Samantha avoided eye contact with Cindi and busied herself by placing each large cookie in a clear bag marked with her Tea in Time logo. “Make sure you’re back by noon when the first race starts.”
“I’ll leave now just in case they show up early.”
“What do I tell your main squeeze when he comes?”
“I’ll send Preston a text and let him know what is going on.”
As soon as Cindi left, Samantha gave Sallie Mae thumbs-up, pulled her cell phone out of the pocket of her jeans and hit the speed dial. “She just left.” Samantha paused and then followed with, “You couldn’t pay me enough to be in your shoes right now.”
When the delivery truck failed to show at eleven, Cindi re-called the number on her cell phone. To her frustration, it went straight to message. She still hadn’t heard from Preston, so she accessed the personal GPS app on her phone. “What do you mean, access denied? This is nuts!” She called his number and it went straight to message.
She tried to relax in the wicker rocker on the porch. Donut had sensed her anxiety and curled up on her lap. Cupcake, Muffin and Cherry Cheesecake gathered at her feet. Cookie paced the front yard, cock-a-doodle-doing. At eleven-thirty, Donut jumped down and the others went on alert when a flatbed truck pulled down the drive. Pansy sat proudly on the back, beautifully restored. The young driver hopped out of the truck, all apologies.
“Sorry, miss. Your fiancé insisted we ignore our GPS and follow his directions. He also said the delivery had to wait until this morning. We’ve had your vehicle in our warehouse for a week. He even paid extra for storage.”
“Fiancé?” I’m not engaged.”
“Well, this guy called our office and identified himself as your fiancé.”
“Did he give you his name?”
The driver pushed up his aviator sunglasses and read the manifest in his hand. “Mr. Smith.”
Cindi pursed her lips. Again, the mysterious Mr. Smith. Something was going on. “I would appreciate you unloading my car as soon as possible. I have to be someplace, like, an hour ago.”
“Nice shirt,” he commented. “When I was a kid, I raced in the soap box derby. I didn’t know Laurel Heights had its own track.”
“They do now. That’s where I have to be.”
“Give me a few and you can be on your way.”
It felt so wonderful to get behind the wheel of her beloved Pansy. Cindi glanced at the time on the dash. The first race would start in twenty minutes. That gave her ten minutes to spare. She’d be cutting it close and decided to go a little faster. Her little car needed the exercise. The sound of a police siren and flashing lights in her rearview mirror put a damper on her happiness. She was being pulled over by one of Laurel Heights’ finest on a country road, in the middle of nowhere.
“Patience, Cindi,” she whispered as Officer Lynch asked for her license and registration before checking with headquarters. Since she had a clean driving record, he issued her only a warning.
Cindi never saw him reach for his personal cell phone and call Lieutenant Adams to let her know Cindi was on her way to the track.
It was ten after twelve before she got back on the road, furious that she’d missed the opening ceremonies and the first race. Adding to her frustration, all of the parking spaces were filled. Parking was available down the road in the
Adams Security parking lot, a quarter mile away!
She parked in her own designated spot and jogged down the newly placed brick sidewalk. Sweat ran down her temples, and her shirt was sticking to her back. When she approached the staging area where only staff, drivers and handlers were permitted, she was stopped by a volunteer she’d never met before.
“Sorry, miss. I can’t let you through,” the man said.
“You are doing a great job keeping out spectators, but I’m staff.” She smiled and reached for her nametag at the end of her lanyard. She looked down. It wasn’t there. In her haste to get to the race, she’d left it on the front seat of her car. “I don’t need this.” She sighed in frustration and searched the crowd. “See that woman over there with the kids in the wheelchairs? She’ll tell you who I am. ”
“One second,” he said with a great deal of skepticism and came back a few minutes later. “She said you’re legit. Okay, go ahead.”
“Thanks,” she said hurriedly and proceeded to the rows of derby cars that were lined up to take their turn. Drivers and handlers mingled close to their respective cars, but cars eight and thirteen, the first two selected to start the race, were still in position. She wondered why the start had been delayed and looked about for one of the other advisors. Not seeing any, she headed for the Super Kids tent.
Cindi wasn’t surprised to see Edith Amanda Adams, wearing her derby shirt, in the thick of things, laughing with Belinda as they played on her iPad. Cindi’s footsteps slowed when she spotted her missing hunky shadow, chatting with Lincoln and her brother! A slow boil of anger bubbled in her body at the site of Preston’s derby shirt. The black T-shirt matched those worn by the Super Kids. A big “A-Team” dominated the front. His included the special numbered account from their secret benefactor. Liar, her mind screamed.
Preston sensed his love was near, and the smile on his face died. She wasn’t supposed to be in this section. Adams Security guards, dressed in derby shirts, were watching for her lavender car at the entrance to the derby grounds. They were to call him as soon as she was spotted. From the furious look on her face, he was in deep shit.
