Thirty-Two and a Half Complications

by Denise Grover Swank

  I shrugged, uneasiness crawling up my back and burrowing in the base of my head. “It was a big job.”

  “Nine thousand exactly? Not a dollar more or less?”

  Mason took a step forward, his voice deep and commanding. “What are you getting at, Taylor?”

  “It just seems odd that it’s such a round number.” He shrugged. “It’s an observation. No more.”

  Mason’s jaw twitched again, but his face was expressionless. “You seem to be making a lot of unnecessary observations.”

  The police officer shrugged, nonplussed. “Just doing my job, Mr. ADA. You’re griping all the time about us being sloppy and not asking enough questions.” He flourished the notebook he’d been writing in at Mason. “This is me doing my job.”

  Mason’s eyes darkened.

  I shifted my weight, feeling the need to break the tension. “I had initially given him a higher quote, but Mr. O’Leary insisted he wouldn’t give me the job if it was a penny more than nine thousand.” I took a breath. “We weren’t going to make much of a profit anyway, and we kept running into problems from start to finish. Now I’m gonna have a hard time paying Bruce Wayne’s paycheck.” All the more reason I needed to recover the cash.

  “And do you routinely deal in cash?” Taylor asked.

  Mason looked furious. “It’s none of your damn business how Rose handles her money for the shop, Taylor.”

  The detective glanced at Mason with mock innocence. “I agree. I’m merely tryin’ to gather all the facts is all.”

  We all knew that was a bald-faced lie, but there was no use protesting.

  “And do you know anything else that might help us in this investigation?”

  I did, but I couldn’t tell anyone who didn’t know about my ability…and I especially couldn’t tell him. “No,” I said, my tone making it clear that it was my final comment.

  Taylor stuck his notebook inside his coat pocket. “Well, alrighty then. I’m gonna get the other statements. You’re free to go, but if I have any other questions, I’ll look you up.” He cast a derisive look at Mason. “Looks like I know where to find you.”

  I frowned when I realized Mason had missed the detective’s sneer. “Yeah.”

  Mason watched Taylor walk out of the office. “One of these days, the Henryetta Police Department is going to get cleaned out just like the sheriff’s department was,” he said. I could hear the lingering hurt in his voice. We’d helped uncover a leak in the sheriff’s department after Crocker’s escape, and unfortunately, it had been Mason’s friend Chief Deputy Dimler.

  I made a face. “Don’t count on it. According to Aunt Bessie, they’ve been inept since before I was born.” The lack of photos in the office unnerved me. “Don’t you think it’s strange Mr. Sullivan didn’t come in today of all days?”

  “It definitely seems like more than a coincidence.”

  I stood and moved around the side of the desk, examining the walls. “I was in his office this past summer when I applied for my business loan. He had photos of his wife and his son at the boy’s high school graduation and another from his family trip to Cancun the year before. It seems odd that they’re gone.”

  Mason turned to take in the room. “It most certainly does. I’ll be sure to have Taylor follow up on it.”

  I stared out the window at the parking lot, my eyes finding the empty space where the getaway car had been parked. “Mason, there’s something I couldn’t tell Detective Taylor.”

  His head jerked toward me. “What?”

  “I had a vision. While the guy with the SpongeBob mask was holding my face.”

  His eyes widened. “He was holding your face? Why didn’t you tell Taylor that?”

  I waved my hand. “That’s not important. The vision is. The robber was in an old barn next to the getaway car, and he was talking to his accomplice. But the guy wasn’t wearing the Batman mask anymore. I saw his face.”

  “You’re kidding.” He shook his head, dazed. “What did he look like?”

  “He had long scraggly blond hair. He was pale-skinned and looked like he was in his late twenties, early thirties.”

  “What else did you see?”

  “Nothing really, but the robber said they didn’t get enough money. That the ‘rat bastard’”—I used air quotes—“hadn’t come through and they needed more.”

  Mason watched me for several seconds and then scooped me up in a hug, giving me a hard kiss. “You have no idea how helpful that is.”

  “How?” I asked, confused.

  “First, if they didn’t get enough money, they’re probably going to rob somewhere else.”

  “Oh. That can’t be good.”

  “No, but now we’re on the alert.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  “Second, I can have you look at mug shots to see if you can identify the guy. And third, now we know they either had an inside man or an accomplice who didn’t come through. While I hate to jump to conclusions, Norman Sullivan is definitely suspect.”

  I found it hard to believe that the loan officer had anything to do with the bank robbery. He’d been so friendly and helpful in our meeting. But I had to admit that the circumstantial evidence was piling up. Still, circumstantial evidence had indicated Bruce Wayne and I were guilty of crimes we hadn’t committed. In my eyes, Mr. Sullivan was innocent until proven guilty. “There’s a problem, though,” I said, sighing. “You can’t use any of it. It’s from a vision.”

  “Let me worry about that. Can you swing by my office for a bit and look at the mug shots?”

  “Sure, but I need to go to the nursery first to break the news to Violet. And I suspect it’s not going to go over well.”

  He lifted my chin and gave me a soft smile. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault.”

  No, if it was anyone’s fault, it was Violet’s. But that had never stopped her from casting the blame on me, and I suspected this time would be no exception.

  There was going to be hell to pay and Violet was gonna make me write a personal check.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  This was one time when I was sorry to be right.

  “What do you mean they took all of our money?” my sister shouted, gripping the counter at the register of our nursery so hard I worried it would snap.

  “While I know you’ve been working night and day on this Holiday Open House—” I gestured to the interior of our store, which looked like a Christmas bomb had exploded inside it “—I know you haven’t lost your understanding of the English language.” I took a step closer. “The robbers took the deposit bag. It’s gone unless the police find the two guys who did this. And even if they do, we might be sunk since we didn’t write down the serial numbers.”

  She looked down her perfect nose at me and tossed her perfect blond hair over her shoulder. “And you just gave it to them?”

  My mouth dropped open in shock, then I closed it and shook my head. “Yes, Violet. That’s exactly what I did. I said, ‘Here Mr. Bank Robber, please take all nine thousand dollars that I worked my hiney off to raise.’ Because the gun he was pointing at my face wasn’t enough incentive.”

  Her face went ashen. “Gun?”

  “It was a bank robbery, Violet. They typically involve guns.”

  “Rose, you could have been killed,” she said, her voice quiet now, subdued.

  “Well, thank you for finally figuring that out.”

  “Are you okay?”

  I looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath before leveling my gaze on her. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice heavy with resignation. “No one was hurt.” I subconsciously rubbed my side. “Well, other than where he kicked me.”

  She walked around the counter and wrapped her arms around me, her body shaking. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. It’s just…the money…”

  Besides funding our paychecks, we’d been counting on using that money to pay for a shipment of Christmas trees. We’d gotten a special deal
on them, but there was a catch—it was pay on delivery, and we were committed. The delivery was set for the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Less than a week away and now we didn’t have enough money. “I can make do if I have to go a couple of weeks without a paycheck, and we can cancel the Christmas tree order.”

  “We can’t cancel.” Her voice rose. “We’re committed to it.”

  I stepped away and rubbed my temple. “We’ll figure something out.”

  “There’s nothing else to figure out. Given how much money we’ve invested in growing the business, we were barely able to scrape together enough for the trees and the Holiday Open House in the first place. There’s nothing left for the paychecks and now it will be hard to pay for those trees too.” Violet leaned her back against the counter. “What about Mason?”

  I froze. “What about Mason?”

  “He’s living in your house, rent free—”

  “No.”

  Her eyes widened as she continued to plead her case. “But I’m sure he’d be more than happy to help—”

  “No!” I said firmly. “Like I said, I can go without a paycheck. I’m not asking Mason for help.”

  “Rose, be reasonable.”

  “I’m being perfectly reasonable. And I’m not asking him. This is our business. We’ve already asked him to go above and beyond by looking at our legal papers for the Small Business Administration grant and our agreement with the contractor.” I knew I should just tell her that Mason didn’t have the money to loan us, but since she already found him lacking because of his work schedule, I could only imagine what she’d say if she knew about his financial situation.

  “Joe helped us a lot, and you had no problem with that.” There was a hateful tone in her voice.

  I put my hands on my hips, fighting tears. “I can’t believe you brought him up.”

  Her face softened and she spanned the space between us, grabbing my arm. “I wouldn’t ask you, but we’re desperate, Rose. We’re in worse shape than I thought. I haven’t been totally honest with you. It’s not just our salaries and the trees on the line…” She took a deep breath, guilt twisting her mouth. “This whole Holiday Open House has gotten out of hand.”

  I wasn’t surprised. When Violet first mentioned the idea of having the open house, I gave her my full support. But when we got the several hundred thousand dollars in grant money, Violet’s plans had grown proportionately. Too bad she hadn’t read the fine print: the grant money was strictly allocated for the expansion of our store, and we would be in deep doodoo if we used it for anything else. She’d bought artificial trees of every variety and thousands of dollars in decorations. But by the time she realized the limitations of the loan, her plans for the open house scheduled for Black Friday were already well on their way, and the Christmas trees had been ordered. We were good and stuck.

  In spite of the mess, I firmly believed the open house was still a good idea. She planned on having holiday refreshments and a violinist was coming to play Christmas music. Prizes would be awarded to random customers throughout the day, and I knew the Henryetta Garden Club had planned their November meeting around the event. The women in Henryetta loved Violet—which was one of the reasons she was in charge of the store while I handled the landscaping side of the business—and the event had even been written up in Banner News, the newspaper of neighboring Magnolia County. It was going to be the business holiday event of southern Arkansas, and I felt confident that it would firmly establish us as the nursery of Fenton and Lafayette counties—quite an accomplishment since we were only a few months old. But only if we could afford to pay for everything.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I finally said. “Besides, the bank should eventually reimburse us.”

  Violet worried her lip between her teeth. “But you didn’t make the deposit, right?”

  “Well, no… But Mason thinks they will.”

  “I’m gonna call our insurance company to see what they say.”

  “Okay. I’d better get to the job site. Bruce Wayne probably thinks I’ve wandered off into the hills again.” In all the excitement, I’d almost forgotten all about it, but we needed the money and I couldn’t exactly afford to slack off.

  Her head jerked up. “Don’t even joke about that. You scared me half to death when I found out that you and Mason had been traipsing in the woods with a maniac after you.”

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about that maniac anymore.” Not after I’d shot and killed him in self-defense.

  “Not that particular maniac, but there seem to be plenty more waiting to come after you.”

  I took a step toward the door. “And on that cheery note, I’m out of here.”

  “Rose. Wait.”

  I turned back to face her.

  “I have a huge favor to ask you.”

  Violet had asked all kinds of favors from me lately. This had to be a doozy if she was calling it huge. “What is it?”

  “I’ve been driving myself crazy with the preparations for this event and throw in the fact that I’ve moved back into Momma’s tiny house with the kids…well, I was wondering if you’d consider hosting Thanksgiving dinner this year.”

  My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh.”

  “You’re living in Dora’s big farmhouse now, which means you have plenty of room. Even more room than I had in my house with Mike. And I can bring things too.” She tilted her head to the side and gave me a pleading smile. “Please?”

  Violet had hosted Thanksgiving for seven years, ever since she and Mike had gotten married. But they were separated now, and she’d had to give up the house she loved to move into Momma’s house after I moved out of it. There was no reason to expect her to take the responsibility of hosting every year. It was long past time for me to step up. “Sure. Of course. I’d love to do it.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes turned glassy. “And I’m sorry about earlier. You know I love you, right?”

  I gave her a sad smile. “Yeah, I know.” Only it wasn’t enough to make up for all the ugliness she’d shown me over the last few months. Still, she was my sister, and nothing could stand in the way of that. At least nothing that had happened yet. “I love you too.”

  After I’d climbed into my truck and pulled out of the parking lot, I called Mason. “Do I have to come in right away? I really need to go check on Bruce Wayne. We have a big job today, ripping out a bunch of bushes and a few small trees. I was planning to join him after depositing the money at the bank this morning, so I’m really late.”

  “I was about to call you. My boss can’t be bothered to sit in on a deposition that he himself set up, so I have to go.” His frustration was unmistakable. Mason was the assistant district attorney in title, but he did far more work than the actual DA, which was part of the reason he worked so many late nights. “Would you be able to meet me for a late lunch?”

  “In your office again?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Mason, it’s your job. I would never begrudge you that.”

  “I know, Rose. But the DA keeps shoving more and more responsibility on me, which is making it hard for me to spend as much time with you as I’d like.” His voice lowered. “I’ve waited months to be with you, so I begrudge the fact my job is getting in the way.” He paused. “I would consider quitting, but I’d have to leave Fenton County to find another job. I know you’re committed to your business and the farm, and I’m not about to move away from you.”

  “Mason.” My voice broke. “I don’t want you to make yourself miserable because of me.”

  “I’m not miserable because of you. Don’t think that.” I heard his frustration again.

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “You know I understand your position, and I don’t want you to move away from me either. Especially now. I’ll bring you lunch and we’ll eat in your office.” I smiled to myself and said in a husky voice, “And we can shut your door.”

  “I like that thought,” he said. “It’s the on
ly thing that’s going to get me through this deposition.”

  I stopped at a stop sign and looked down at my faded jeans, worn long-sleeved T-shirt, and jacket. “Too bad I won’t have time to change into something nicer before I come see you.” Of course, he’d already seen me today, so it wouldn’t exactly be a surprise.

  “Rose, you could walk into my office wearing rags and you’d still be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  I laughed. “You’re just trying to butter me up because you want me to bring you apple pie from Merilee’s Café.”

  “How can you say that?” he asked in mock dismay. “You know I think you’re beautiful. And if you don’t, then I’m falling down on my job.”

  “So does this mean you don’t want the apple pie?” I teased.

  He laughed. “Now, don’t get hasty.”

  Chuckling, I shook my head. “Any other requests?”

  “Surprise me. The rest is superfluous as long as I have you.”

  My heart overflowed with emotion. I knew he meant every word. I suspected he’d go the rest of his life without another piece of pie if it meant being with me. “When should I come by? Does one work?”

  “Can you make it one-thirty?”

  “Done. I’ll see you later, Mr. Assistant DA.”

  “Tell Bruce Wayne I said hi.”

  I hung up, already missing him, which was crazy since I’d woken up next to him in bed and then saw him again at the bank. Turned out I was a greedy woman. I wanted every moment I could get with Mason. I had half a mind to go kick the district attorney’s behind myself.

  When I pulled up in front of the Timberland house ten minutes later, Bruce Wayne was wrestling with an overgrown shrub. He’d already dug up two others without me. He stuck his shovel in the ground and looked up at me through his shaggy bangs. “Everything okay, Miss Rose?”

  Bruce Wayne had to be ten years older than me, putting him in his mid-thirties, but he still insisted on calling me Miss.

  We had first become acquainted when I was on the jury for his murder trial, which was incidentally when I’d first met Mason, who’d been the prosecutor for the case. I’d had a vision of the real murderer, but I couldn’t tell anyone that, other than my then-boyfriend, Joe. A state police detective at the time, he’d encouraged me to trust the system. But I knew what it felt like to be suspected for a murder that I hadn’t committed, so I’d done everything in my power to make sure Bruce Wayne didn’t pay for someone else’s crime.