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Thirty-One and a Half Regrets (Rose Gardner Mystery #4)

Page 7

by Grover Swank, Denise


  “I take it that means they haven’t captured Daniel Crocker yet?”

  “No, but they’re still pretty confident that they’ve tracked him to Shreveport.”

  “That’s what you said this morning.”

  “I’m sorry.” He grimaced apologetically. “I wish I had better news. Just get through this press conference, and then how about I take you to Magnolia for the rest of the day? We can see a movie and eat dinner. It’ll take your mind off of everything.”

  I smiled up at him, my stomach fluttering. “I’d like that.”

  Neely Kate moved behind Mason and waggled her eyebrows at me with a lascivious smirk. I shot her a glare.

  Keeping his eyes on mine, Mason grinned. “You’re not helping, Neely Kate.”

  She laughed and disappeared through the open back door.

  Mason let it close behind her, hesitating. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I nodded. Part of me didn’t want to, but I needed to for so many more reasons.

  Too bad that didn’t make me any less nervous.

  He stared into my eyes, his smile fading. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Rose.”

  “Me too.”

  Chapter Seven

  When we went back inside, Muffy found her bed in the corner of the back room and hunkered down. I wondered if my little dog could see the future too, but it didn’t take a psychic reading to know things were about to get even tenser. I found Violet in a huddle of several people I didn’t recognize, all wearing suits and business attire. Her head swiveled as I emerged from the back room, and she shot me a glare. All the customers had vanished.

  A woman with graying hair straightened and took several steps toward me. “You must be Rose,” she said with a smile.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I extended my hand, glad that Mason was standing behind me. My nerves were about to overtake me.

  She shook with a firm grasp. “I’m Thelma Peterman and I’m with the Arkansas Small Business Association. When J.R. Simmons brought your business to our attention, we were excited to process your grant.”

  My stomach tightened and I felt Mason place a hand on the small of my back for support. I wasn’t sure why I was shocked. I had already guessed that Joe’s father was behind this set-up, but suspecting something and having it confirmed were two different things.

  “We don’t usually spotlight businesses as new as yours, but Mr. Simmons insisted we feature you as part of Joe Simmons’s political campaign, which, of course, will provide great exposure for both of you.”

  “We’re just so honored to be considered,” Violet gushed, clutching her hands in front of her.

  Thelma cleared her throat, speaking loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Here’s what’s going to happen: Joe’s running behind schedule, so we’ll film some footage of you and Violet puttering around the shop and ask some informal questions while we wait. Then we’ll stand outside when he shows up, and Joe will give a speech about Arkansas’ entrepreneurial spirit. He’ll hand you an envelope, saying that he’s giving you the check, but in reality it will be empty. Instead, we’ll deposit the money directly into your account. Then Joe will take questions from the press and be on his way. If we need more footage of you two, we’ll stick around after he leaves. This should take no more than two hours max.”

  “Okay,” I said, looking out the window at the growing crowd. “Why are there so many people showing up for this? I didn’t know Joe was so popular in Henryetta.”

  “It’s probably because there are going to be news crews from Little Rock here filming the press conference,” Violet said with a snip in her voice. “They want to be on TV. If you’d been in here ten minutes ago, you would know that.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. Peterman.” Mason stepped around me. “You say that the money will deposited into the Gardner Sisters Nursery’s bank account. I’d like to know exactly when that transaction will be processed.”

  Thelma’s bushy eyebrows shot up, and her mouth pursed into the shape of a heart. “And you are…?”

  Mason extended his hand, assuming his official countenance. The one that had intimidated me when we first met on Bruce Wayne Decker’s trial. “Mason Deveraux III. Fenton County Assistant District Attorney.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “I assure you that there is nothing to worry about, Mr. Deveraux. We’re a state-run department and all the paperwork has been processed. The money will be deposited by the end of the week.”

  “I was told that there were conditions placed on awarding the grant. One of them was that Rose has to be present for the press conference, is that correct?”

  “Well…yes…”

  “May I ask who placed those conditions?”

  The blood drained from Violet’s face. “Mason, I’m sure you’re getting all worked up over nothing.”

  Thelma had recovered enough to become indignant. “It was a decision of the board, Mr. Deveraux. The business does include the name sisters. We needed both sisters.”

  Mason shifted his weight, lifting his eyebrows but maintaining his death stare. “How curious that you would think it necessary to make that stipulation. I would presume that both sisters would be thrilled with such an honor and that neither would consider missing the opportunity to show off their business.”

  “Well…”

  “I want assurance—in writing—that if Ms. Gardner participates in this presentation, the money will be deposited into the business’s account.”

  Thelma’s face reddened. “Mr. Deveraux—”

  “Mason!” Violet protested. “That really isn’t necessary.”

  Mason stared her down. “Violet, I’m positive you can appreciate that I’m looking out for your best interest.”

  Her eyes glittered with suppressed anger. “You mean Rose’s.” She turned to me. “Rose, tell Mason that you don’t need his intervention.”

  I looked up into Mason’s determined face then turned back to Violet. “No. He’s right. If I’m gonna do this, I want to know that they won’t change their minds.”

  Thelma turned and talked to the people behind her in hushed tones before addressing Mason. “This is highly unusual, Mr. Deveraux.”

  “Nevertheless, we’ll need that agreement in writing.”

  Her back stiffened. “I’m not authorized to create such a document.”

  “Then find someone who is.”

  Violet marched over and grabbed Mason’s arm, her fingers digging so deep she was bound to leave bruises. “Mason, can we talk for a moment?”

  His gaze shifted to Thelma. “It looks like we have a few moments while we’re waiting.”

  Violet dragged him into the back room and I followed them, numb with shock.

  Violet jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “You have no right butting your nose into our business, Mason. Our business.”

  Mason’s face softened. “And as Rose’s friend, I can’t in good conscience stand in the background without offering her legal counsel when I feel she needs it.” He shifted his weight. “Violet, you know good and well that this was instigated by J.R. Simmons. You don’t think that man will double-cross you both with a smile on his face? I want you to have this money as much as you want it, but I’d hate to see these people put you two through the Joe Simmons Puppet Show without anything to show for it. Trust me, Violet. I am looking out for your best interest here too, not just Rose’s. J.R. Simmons has used every trick in the book to get what he wants. I want to make sure both of you get what you were promised.”

  His speech seemed to calm her down. She put her hands on her hips and looked at the floor, nodding. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

  “Thank you.” He put his hands on her arms and squatted to meet her gaze. “I promise you, I would never do anything to hurt your business. I care about Rose and I see how happy it makes her. I want it to succeed, but as her friend—and yours—I can’t stand back and watch you be taken advantage of.”

  She chewed on the inside of her l
ip for a moment. “Okay.”

  He dropped his hold, becoming more official again. “And when that document shows up—and I’m certain it will—I want to look it over to make sure it’s legally binding.”

  “How can you be so sure they’ll do it?” I asked.

  Mason’s face hardened. “Because J.R. Simmons is desperate to put you and Joe together. Desperate enough to offer you several hundred thousand dollars to make it happen.”

  “Oh.”

  Violet was indignant again. “No, we’re getting that money because I applied for this grant.”

  “And how long ago did you apply? A month?”

  She scowled. “Three weeks.”

  “And when was the last time you heard of the government working that quickly?”

  Her scowl deepened.

  Mason’s face softened as he searched Violet’s eyes. “Trust me.”

  She took a deep breath then released it. “Okay.”

  Several minutes later, one of Thelma’s associates appeared in the doorway of the back room. “Do you have a fax machine?”

  Violet’s eyes widened. “Yeah.” And she rattled off the number.

  The document arrived several minutes later and Thelma tapped her foot impatiently while Mason read it over. When he was done, he turned to Violet and me. “This says that you will both be present for the press conference and that the money will be deposited into your account by noon tomorrow. There are no other stipulations or requirements. It also asks you to agree to let them use whatever footage they get for promotion or any other way they see fit. While I admit the wording of the last part concerns me a bit, I think you’ll be fine.”

  Violet already had a pen in her hand. “Where do we sign?”

  When I signed it, I wasn’t surprised to see J.R. Simmons’s own signature next to ours. “How did they send it so quickly?” I whispered to Mason after I handed Thelma the document.

  “Because I suspect he already had it prepared.”

  “We need to hustle, people,” Thelma shouted, clapping her hands together. “We’re officially behind schedule.”

  The small business group had brought two cameramen and while waiting for the document, they set up the lighting for the interview. They put a microphone on Violet and filmed her walking around the shop straightening the pots and gift items we sold. After a few takes of that, they had her stand by the register and asked her questions about opening the nursery. Another cameraman asked me to go outside so he could get some shots of me with the plants we had lining the sidewalk.

  I was thankful the camera crew didn’t seem interested in talking to me, only filming me watering the flowers and talking to a pretend customer. Mason stood off to the side, watching in silence. While they followed me around for the next fifteen minutes, three news vans drove up and parked on the street. The crews emerged and they began setting up for the press conference. Someone had set up a rope barrier between the sidewalk and the parking lot. The crowd on the other side of the rope had swelled even more.

  The cameraman turned to see where my attention had gone. “Ms. Gardner, we need you to pretend the people on the street aren’t there.”

  Easier said than done. I knew Joe would arrive at any moment, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I took a deep breath. I had agreed to do this. It would all be over soon.

  When they finished filming, Joe still hadn’t arrived even though it was well past one. I’d noticed Jonah in the crowd earlier and since the camera crew was done with me, I waved him over. He pushed his way through the gathered mass of people and I couldn’t help but think how different this was from the first time I met him at the grand opening of the nursery. That time, he’d arrived with an entourage and his own camera crew. I had to say I liked this new Reverend Jonah much better.

  Someone called out, “Reverend Jonah!”

  Jonah’s television smile switched on and he turned to wave. He may have changed, but his on-screen persona had endured the transformation. I had to admit he was a great showman.

  When he reached me, I grabbed his arm and pulled him around the side of the building. “Did you have a chance to talk to Scooter?”

  He leaned his head closer to mine and lowered his voice. “I did, but I didn’t get much information.”

  I glanced at Mason, who stood at the edge of the parking lot, looking official. He seemed to be scanning the crowd for something. His gaze landed on mine and his mouth tipped into a sexy smile. My stomach fluttered and my skin heated despite the chilly wind. Flustered, I returned my attention to Jonah, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. “What did he say?”

  “Scooter has been out at Weston’s Garage quite a bit over the last week. He says there was lots of activity and he knew something big was about to go down but claims not to know what. He saw Bruce Wayne there on Friday and over the weekend.”

  My heart sunk. “It sounds like they were helping Daniel Crocker break out of jail, but I just can’t believe Bruce Wayne would be a part of that.”

  “We don’t know for sure that he was. Maybe that’s why he disappeared. Because he refused to cooperate.” His voice lowered. “I really think it’s time for you to tell Mason.”

  Movement in the parking lot drew my attention. As a dark sedan pulled into a parking spot, Thelma came outside with Violet and her cameraman in tow. I drew in a breath of anticipation as the rear car doors opened. When Joe got out, he was already waving to the crowd, wearing a smile I’d never once seen on his face the entire time we’d known each other. He shook several hands before he walked toward us. He was handsome in his dark gray suit with a red tie and several women in the crowd shouted his name and whistled. Joe ignored them as his gaze landed on me and Jonah, his face hardening.

  My chest tightened and I tried to take a breath. Of all the reactions I’d expected from him the first time we saw each other again, this disdain was stunning.

  Thelma intercepted him on the sidewalk and it took him several seconds to give her his attention.

  I blinked to ease the tears burning my eyes. What had I done to earn that look from him?

  I barely had time to recover when the next person to emerge from the car sent the blood rushing from my head—Hilary. She wore a cream colored dress with a green vine print as though she were playing along with the whole gardening theme. Her long auburn hair was pulled back from her face and hung in waves. If I didn’t know the real her, I would have believed she was the sweet, dutiful fiancée of an up-and-coming political star. She was pretty enough to be a Hollywood celebrity.

  My gaze strayed to Mason, who was watching me with a worried expression. I had no doubt he’d seen Joe’s reaction. I flashed him a tight smile even as I fought to take a breath.

  Hilary waved to the crowd, her smile lighting up her face as she made her way to Joe. She looped her arm through his, pulling him like she was staking her territory. Her left hand rested on his forearm and the massive diamond on her finger caught the sunlight, sparkling like one of Ashley’s glitter-encrusted art projects. I couldn’t help comparing her engagement ring to the one Joe had given me. The one that now sat in a box in my underwear drawer. The rings were so vastly different it was like they had been given by two different men. But then again, I wasn’t surprised.

  This man who was working the crowd wasn’t the one I’d known. He smiled and shook hands, talking to strangers as though they were his close friends. I had no idea why he was wasting time on people who weren’t even his constituents, but maybe he was thinking long term. After all, I’d seen a vision in which Hilary was his wife and he was winning a U.S. Senate seat.

  I searched the crowd that had now swelled to over a hundred people. There were more people here today than had shown up for our grand opening. A group of middle-aged women held up signs with pictures of Joe and Hilary with crowns drawn on their heads with black marker and the word “Jolary for President!” handwritten at the top. It took me three whole seconds to figure out Jolary was their version of Brangelina.
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  Several younger women near the front were wearing T-shirts with Joe’s photo emblazoned across their chests with the phrase, “I want to be your First Lady on the street and the First Slut in your bed.” I wondered if they had truly thought that slogan through. My mouth dropped open when I realized Samantha Jo Wheaten was one of the women. She’d waited on us several times at the Suds and Spuds diner without ever giving Joe a second glance. But now that he had TV cameras on him, they all wanted him.

  Joe watched as Jonah rejoined the crowd after offering me a smile and a thumbs up. Then Joe turned back to me, his cold eyes searching my face for a moment before he faced the crowd.

  The blood drained from my head. Who was this man?

  I considered bolting, the stupid grant be damned. I’d deal with Violet later.But as I went to leave, Thelma grabbed my arm and ushered me in front of the nursery doors. I caught a glimpse of Mason, who was hanging close to the building but staying away from the cameras. He offered me an encouraging smile.

  I smiled back, not because I was happy with the situation, but because I could always count on him to be there when I needed him. The surety of this surprised me. Truth was, he’d been my rock for a while now. From getting me out of jail to saving me from Jimmy DeWade to helping me choose my truck, he had always been waiting in the wings to lend a helping hand. Now he was standing on the periphery again, and I realized I didn’t want him there anymore. I wanted him beside me. As soon as this nightmare press conference was over, I was going to address that.

  But at the moment, I had to stand in front of the crowd in a straight line with the other official participants of this press conference, smack in front of the nursery. Violet and I hung to the right, while Joe and Hilary were on the left, Thelma between us. Joe stood less than four feet from me, close enough for me to see the tremor in his hand as he reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper.

  Several women shouted Joe’s name again and I noticed a sign that read Joe, will you marry ME? Hilary grabbed Joe’s hand and laced her fingers with his, smiling coyly at the crowd. “Sorry, girls. He’s all mine.” And without warning, she grabbed his face and gave him a kiss on the lips. Joe resisted for a moment before relaxing into her embrace. When he broke loose, he flashed a hundred-watt smile in response to the catcalls.

 

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