He bent and kissed her softly. “For being such a saint,” he said. “I know I was a bear yesterday.” He looked away. “And I know it’s ridiculous to be worrying about making a good showing in this race. Andrew told me he’d be proud of me whether I ran or walked, and that supporting the American Heart Association was the important thing.”
Silently, Kate blessed her son.
“So, how is the ankle?” she asked. She was surprised that he didn’t seem to be limping as badly as he had in the morning.
Paul shrugged. “Feeling better. It hasn’t swollen nearly as much as I feared, either.”
“Good,” said Kate. “Why don’t we ice it again? Tomorrow you can start using heat on it.”
Over dinner, Kate shared with Paul the morning’s surprise phone call and subsequent visit with Emmaline.
“She seemed sincere,” she reported, “but if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for her apology.”
Paul chuckled. “Warning noted.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you and Emmaline have cleared up the letter incident. Although that doesn’t exactly resolve any of the other issues, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t. I appreciated Emmaline’s apology, but our relationship is going to be different now.”
“Oh?”
“I don’t trust her. I forgive her, but I am not confident that she’s reformed, and I don’t intend to spend any more time developing a friendship with her.”
PAUL HAD A MEETING with the church’s finance committee after dinner. Kate needed to complete preparations for a Sunday-school lesson she had agreed to teach the coming Sunday. After Paul left, she was just settling down at the kitchen table with her materials when the doorbell rang. She crossed the living room and pulled open the door, a welcome ready on her lips.
Emmaline stood there.
“Hello,” Kate said in surprise.
“Hello,” said Emmaline. “I thought I would apologize to Paul. Have you eaten dinner yet? I brought zucchini muffins.”
Kate noticed that Emmaline was holding out a covered container. She accepted it as Emmaline stepped inside.
“We’re finished with dinner,” Kate told Emmaline. “I’m sorry, but Paul’s at a meeting. And I have work to do this evening.”
“Oh. Okay,” Emmaline said. “You just go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I brought my sketch pad.”
Kate was taken aback by the audacity of the woman. “Sorry, Emmaline, that’s not going to work,” she said.
“Look.” Emmaline pointed out the door that Kate had yet to shut. “Here comes the UPS truck. Are you expecting a delivery? Goodness, he’s late.”
Kate absently started out the door to meet the driver, something she often did to save the man the extra steps. Halfway down the front walk, she heard her telephone ring.
“Don’t worry; I’ll get it,” Emmaline called.
Harried and increasingly annoyed at the way her evening had just been hijacked, Kate took the parcel from the delivery man with thanks and returned to the house. It looked like a delivery of books for Paul.
Through the window, she could see Emmaline setting down the receiver.
“Who was that?” Kate asked as she entered.
“Just a sales call,” Emmaline said, waving a hand in dismissal. “I told him no thank you.”
Kate nodded. Blowing out a determined breath, she said, “Emmaline, I appreciate the muffins, but this evening isn’t a good time for me to have a guest. You’ll have to excuse me. Perhaps we can get together another day.”
Emmaline’s eyebrows drew together; the resulting frown was intense. “But I wanted to spend time with you tonight,” she said obstinately. “I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Yes,” said Kate, “I will. This is not a good time,” she repeated.
Emmaline’s shoulders stiffened, and she drew herself up. “Well,” she said in a huffy tone, “I’m trying to make amends, to be a good friend, and you’re not cooperating at all.”
She yanked open the front door on the last two words. Unfortunately, the latch must not have caught when Kate came back in from the UPS delivery, because it bounced back in Emmaline’s hand and slammed against the wall.
Emmaline gave a small shriek of surprise. She twisted to one side, but the door hit her in the back, knocking her forward. Before Kate could even reach out, Emmaline fell onto her hands and knees on the entryway rug with an audible “Oof!”
She had been carrying a large handbag on one shoulder. The impact tossed it off her shoulder and it upended on the floor, spilling out its contents.
Emmaline began to scramble around, making a production out of picking up all the items from her handbag and putting them back inside. Kate automatically walked over to help. She picked up Emmaline’s sketchbook, which had slid quite a distance. The book had flipped open, and a page near the middle was exposed.
Kate was surprised to see her own face looking back at her. Slowly, she reached out and picked up the sketchbook.
“Kate, that’s private,” Emmaline protested.
“Not when you’re using me as your model,” Kate said.
The sketch was astonishing in its detail. Kate was standing in the aisle at the Mercantile with Anna Miller on her hip. Both of them were laughing, and both were dressed exactly as they had been that day. The number one was circled in the bottom corner. What was number two, Kate wondered?
She flipped the page. Sure enough, there was number two: herself again, standing in Emmaline’s kitchen holding the teakettle in one hand. Yet a third depicted Kate sitting with baby Alaina on her lap. Kate felt the back of her neck prickle, and a shiver ran down her spine. Hastily checking the pages, Kate saw five new sketches of herself in all. Every one was absolutely accurate, just as the first one Emmaline had given to Kate had been, right down to the jewelry Kate was wearing.
When she looked up, the silence was absolute. Emmaline appeared to be holding her breath.
“What,” said Kate, “is the meaning of this?” She slapped her free hand on the sketchbook, dimly aware that she was shaking. Her voice sounded loud and shocked, even to her.
Emmaline spread her hands in appeal. “I only—”
“Never mind. I’m sorry to say that at this point, I don’t care what the meaning is.” Kate stood abruptly. “You never asked my permission, not the first time, and not now. You never even mentioned you were doing these. This is intrusive, Emmaline. Do you understand that?” Kate’s voice rose further. “In fact, it’s not just intrusive, it’s creepy.”
“Kate, let me apologize—”
“Not right now.” She flung a hand toward the door, angrier and more unsettled than she could recall being in a long, long time. “You need to leave. Right now. Do not call me.”
But Emmaline planted her feet. She took the sketchbook Kate held out and carefully replaced it in her bag.
Kate held her breath, not at all sure the other woman would leave.
Finally, Emmaline said, “Okay, fine.” She cast Kate a hostile look, her eyes narrowed in a way Kate had never seen before. “You know, I heard a rumor about your husband at the diner today,” she said.
“A rumor?” Kate was perplexed at the sudden change of topic. “About what?”
“I heard that he’s been accused of embezzling from the church. I don’t know if it’s true, but mud sticks, you know. It might not matter whether he did it or not. The people of Faith Briar may just decide he’s not the kind of pastor they want.”
“Embezzling!” Kate was outraged. “Paul would never do that.”
Emmaline widened her eyes in false surprise, a sly smile curling the corners of her lips. “No?”
A cold ball of fear settled in Kate’s stomach as she suddenly realized what was happening. Emmaline was threatening her. She would start a vile rumor like that.
“Why would you do something like this?” Kate whispered. “I’ve been kind to you.”
“You never have t
ime for me,” Emmaline said, with the sulky tone Kate had heard before. “I always feel as if I’m competing with a dozen other people for your time.” She pivoted to the door. “Let me know when you aren’t so busy with your family and friends,” she said, slamming the front door behind her.
Chapter Nineteen
Kate groped for the back of a chair, thoroughly shaken by the confrontation. What on earth?
The telephone rang. Automatically, she went to answer it, still hardly believing what had just happened. As she picked up the handset, she realized her hands were shaking. “Hello?”
“Kate?” The voice was Livvy’s, and she sounded odd. Cautious or wary. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure,” Kate said. “Why do you ask?”
“I thought I’d call back one more time, just to be sure everything is okay.”
“Call back?” A ball of anxiety knotted Kate’s shoulders even more tightly.
“I called a little while ago, and a woman answered the phone. She didn’t tell me who she was, even when I asked, but it sounded like Emmaline. She said you were busy and couldn’t come to the phone, and then she hung up on me!”
“What?” Kate groped for words for a moment. “She...she...”
“It was Emmaline, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kate confirmed grimly. “She came over here uninvited again and tried to force me into agreeing to let her stay even though I said I was busy. Then she got upset when I wouldn’t let her stay. No, wait, upset isn’t even the word for it.” She considered for a moment. “Then she dropped her bag, and her sketchbook fell out.”
Kate went on to detail the disturbing experience of finding herself documented in exact detail on page after page of Emmaline’s sketchbook.
“She was hostile and mean and frightening, if you want the truth, Livvy. And she threatened to lie to people by suggesting that Paul is embezzling from the church.”
“What?” Livvy drew in a shocked breath that Kate could hear through the telephone. “Why? What’s going on, Kate?”
“Liv, I think she might have some kind of serious emotional problems,” Kate said slowly. “She seems to resent the time I spend with you, with my family, even with my own husband. It’s as if she wants to have my friendship all to herself.”
“You can’t let her harm Paul’s reputation,” Livvy said. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Kate said. “But I’ll figure out something, I promise you.”
KATE FELT A LITTLE BETTER after talking to Livvy. But every time she blinked, she could see Emmaline’s angry face and hear the threats she had uttered.
Briefly, she contemplated going straight to Paul at the church. But she hesitated to interrupt his meeting, even though Emmaline’s threat certainly was serious enough. She took deep calming breaths. She would talk to him when he got home later that night.
SHE WAS SITTING in the rocking chair cuddling in an afghan when Paul walked in the door shortly after nine o’clock.
“Hi, honey. Did you get your Sunday-school stuff all organized?”
Kate made an inarticulate sound. She tried again. “Not exactly.”
“What happened?” Blue eyes warm with concern, Paul walked over and took a seat on the couch.
Kate told him about the altercation with Emmaline, about the sketches, and about her own angry outburst that had followed. And then she told him about Emmaline’s frightening, threatening behavior.
“I feel so”—she felt tears begin to sting her eyes—“so upset about what she could do to you.”
“Oh, honey.” Paul went to her, took her wrist, and tugged gently. “Come here.”
Kate let him pull her out of her chair and snuggled up to him on the couch, taking comfort in the familiar warmth of his embrace and the gentle circles he rubbed on her back.
“We’ll call Sheriff Roberts first thing tomorrow morning,” he told her. “Just so that he’s aware that she’s made a threat. And I’ll alert the church board.”
“I wonder if I should call her sister Francie,” Kate said. “She doesn’t want Emmaline to move back to Philadelphia. It makes me wonder if she has had similar problems with Emmaline. And maybe I should call Dr. McLaughlin. I have a feeling this would not surprise him in the least.”
Paul pulled her closer. “You don’t have to decide that tonight. We can talk about it more tomorrow.”
WHEN THE TELEPHONE RANG shortly after breakfast on Friday morning, Kate looked at it as if it might be a snake. What if it was Emmaline?
Slowly, she walked over and picked up the phone.
“Hey, Kate.” Livvy. “How are you this morning?”
“Nervous. Upset. Exhausted.”
“I bet. I barely slept last night.”
“Me either.” Kate felt grateful for her friend’s sympathy.
“So, what are you going to do now?”
Kate thought for a moment. “Remember when I overheard the conversation Emmaline’s sister had with her husband about Emmaline doing something awful? I think it’s time to find out more about that.”
“How?”
“I’ll show you. Give me fifteen minutes.”
KATE WAS AT THE LIBRARY in under fifteen minutes, a fresh optimism flowing through her. Livvy was waiting for her, and together they went upstairs to the computers and pulled up two chairs.
“What are you looking for first?” Livvy asked.
“The name of Francie’s husband,” Kate told her.
It wasn’t difficult. When she tried “Francie Morlen in Philadelphia,” a list of nearly ten items came up. Most of the items were innocuous mentions of Francie’s work for a local women’s shelter. But in the third link, she was listed with “Jonathan Morlen” as a donor to the charity. The others were for “Jonathan Morlen,” an attorney with a large law firm. Maybe he was a partner in the firm, although Francie had said he had his own practice, hadn’t she?
The first link on Francie’s husband was a newspaper article. Kate’s heart sank as she read it. Morlen had been accused of some legal impropriety by a client who wasn’t named. The charges had never been proved, but Morlen had been asked to resign from the law firm. It was the same firm she saw listed in the next few links.
Kate thought back to Francie’s words to her husband: You’re the one who was hurt most by what she did. A chill ran down Kate’s spine.
“Look,” she said to Livvy. “I’d bet my red cashmere scarf that the unnamed client was Emmaline. The circumstances are so similar.”
Kate reread the article. “I’m going to make some calls and see if I can learn anything else. It’s not likely, given confidentiality laws, as I’ve already learned. But I have to try. After that, we’ll have to assess our position.” She paused, then said resolutely, “I refuse to allow anyone to damage my husband’s reputation.”
Livvy hit the Print button, then handed Kate the piece of paper that zipped out of the printer. “Here. You might want to refer to this article if you get ahold of anyone.”
Butterflies fluttered in Kate’s stomach. She couldn’t shake her concern for Paul or the shock she felt after reading the article. Emmaline could seriously damage his relationship with his flock at Faith Briar with just a few words if Kate didn’t get to the bottom of this fast.
She walked with Livvy downstairs to Livvy’s office to call the law firm. The library’s telephone service had unlimited long-distance calling. Surely this qualified as research, Kate thought, trying to smile.
Consulting the article Livvy had printed out, Kate dialed her son Andrew’s office. Moments after his receptionist answered, Andrew came on the line.
“Hi, Mom. How’s everything down south?” He gave the words an exaggerated Southern drawl.
Kate was not even able to summon a chuckle. “Andrew,” she said intensely, “do you recognize the name Jonathan Morlen?”
There was a moment of silence. “Are you all right?” Her son’s voice was filled with concern.
“Yes,” she s
aid immediately. The last thing she wanted to do was upset her children, and she really was all right. “I’m just in a time crunch. Does the name Jonathan Morlen ring any bells?”
Andrew was silent for a moment. “He’s a lawyer somewhere in this area,” he said at last. “I recognize the name. But I couldn’t tell you who he works for or what type of law he practices.”
“Okay.” Kate worked to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Do you want me to check around?”
“No, that’s all right. I have another resource,” she told him. “But while I have you on the phone, I need to ask if you ever remembered where you saw Emmaline, the lady you met down here. You said she looked familiar,” she prompted.
“I didn’t,” Andrew said regretfully. “Sorry, I’m no help at all today.”
Kate chuckled. “It’s a good thing I love you anyway.”
Andrew laughed. “I love you too, Mom. Good luck with your pursuit of information.”
Ending the conversation with her son, Kate immediately dialed the number of the law practice that listed Jonathan Morlen as one of its associates. Francie had said he had his own firm, so this might be outdated. But perhaps they could help her contact him.
When a perky feminine voice answered the phone, Kate asked to speak to Jonathan Morlen. As she had expected, she was informed that he no longer was employed there. Then she asked for the senior partner named in the article she had found.
When a pleasant masculine voice came on the line, Kate said, “Hello. My name is Kate Hanlon, and I have a situation with a woman related to Jonathan Morlen. May I ask you some questions about the circumstances under which he left?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but our employee information is confidential—”
“Jonathan’s sister-in-law is threatening my husband just like she did Jonathan,” Kate said bluntly.
There was a long silence at the other end. Finally, the man sighed. “All right.”
A few minutes later, Kate hung up the phone. Livvy, who had stepped out of her office, popped her head back inside. “Well?”
How the Heart Runs Page 18
