by Jeff Shelby
Vivian cleared her throat. “But, regardless of what you might be thinking, I didn’t take the money. You can check my bank statements, you can search my house. The money isn’t here.”
I was tempted to ask her about the signatures but I held my tongue.
“I believe you,” I finally said.
Her expression reflected what looked like a mixture of both doubt and disbelief. “You do?”
“Shouldn't I?”
Her cheeks colored. “Of course,” she said. “I wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
I wondered what she would lie about, but decided it probably wasn’t the best time to ask.
“I’m sorry about your trip,” I said. And I was. She’d been dealt a lousy hand, from the sound of things, and I could tell how upset and disappointed she was about having to cancel what had been a lifelong dream vacation.
“Me, too,” she said softly. Her eyes misted over and she looked away, blinking a couple of times in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.
“You know,” I said, thinking, “I might have a solution.”
She turned to look back at me, her eyebrows raised in question.
What I was about to suggest was slightly ridiculous. Okay, it was ludicrous, but that wasn’t going to stop me.
“If we can find out what happened to the money, we can get it back into the ladies’ society account,” I said. “And then I can get my money back…the money I loaned for the festival. And then…” I swallowed. “…then I could loan it to you instead.”
“To me?” Vivian squeaked.
I nodded. “For your trip.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You would do that?”
I swallowed again. “You want to go. And you’ve spent all year looking forward to it.”
Vivian continued to stare at me, her mouth open. She was as surprised as I was by my suggestion.
My reasons for offering the money were simple: I knew what it was like to want something and have it be just out of arm’s reach. I’d spent most of my life living out other people’s dreams: Charlie’s, and then my children's. When the opportunity presented itself for me to finally do something for me—buy the farm in Latney and embark on a new kind of life—I’d jumped at the chance. Vivian’s dreams weren’t that crazy or involved: she just wanted a trip to Paris. And if I could help make it happen for her, I wanted to.
It wouldn’t be an outrageous amount to loan her. And even if it took her months or years to pay it back, it wasn’t like I was going anywhere. Latney was my home now. For better or worse.
Vivian leaned against the kitchen counter, her hands flat on the countertop. “I can’t believe you would do that for me.”
“You’re my friend,” I said. I tried to ignore the voice in my head that was refuting that statement. “I’m happy to help. And all you need to do is one simple thing.”
“What’s that?”
I folded my arms and smiled. “Get me into the ladies’ society bank account.”
THIRTY ONE
“I swear this is the password.”
Vivian and I were staring at her laptop screen. She’d grabbed her laptop from her office and brought it into the kitchen, setting it on the table so we both could see it. She sat down in one of the chairs and I perched myself behind her, my eyes trained on the screen.
She cleared the box with the encrypted password she’d entered and tried again. The same error message popped up in response.
She sighed. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“Maybe one of the letters is capitalized?” I suggested. She hadn’t told me the password, and I hadn’t expected her to. But I did expect her to know what the password actually was.
She shook her head. “I tried that. The first letter is the only one capitalized.”
She tried again. Nothing.
“When was the last time you logged in?” I asked.
She thought for a minute. “It was quite a few months ago, maybe even last year. Since I’m not the treasurer, I don’t have much of a reason to log on, you know?”
I did know. But the trouble she was having with the account led me to wonder two things. First, was she just pretending not to know the password so she wouldn’t have to log in? I didn’t know what that would accomplish, but it was a possibility, albeit a slim one. Second, had someone changed the password so that Vivian wouldn’t have access to the account? This seemed far more likely, especially if the error wasn’t just a problem with her memory, but it also pointed to the obvious person who would have changed it: Sophia.
We both stared at the screen a minute longer, as if by doing so, the password would magically work.
It didn’t.
Vivian sighed again, a deeper one this time. “I don’t know what to do,” she said. “I guess I could call the bank and see if they could help me log in.”
“Don’t.”
She glanced at me. “Why not?”
I didn’t want to share my suspicions just yet, especially because one of them involved her. But I also didn’t have a single convincing reason for her not to call.
Her expression brightened. “I can probably figure it out tonight,” she said. “There’s an emergency meeting for the society.”
“An emergency meeting?”
She nodded. “Last-minute preparations for the festival. That was one of the reasons Elena was here earlier.”
One of the reasons. I wondered what the others were.
“Sophia should be there,” Vivian continued. “If she is, I can touch base with her and make sure I have the right password.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t mention it,” I said slowly, trying to work through the pros and cons of letting Sophia know we were interested in looking at the bank account.
Vivian frowned. “I thought you didn’t think she was a suspect.”
I didn’t have an answer for her, so I didn’t respond. Thankfully, she appeared to be so frustrated by the incorrect password that she didn’t press me on it. She tapped the keys on the laptop again and pressed enter.
Nothing.
I took a step back from the table. “I should probably get going,” I told her.
She looked at me, her brow furrowed. “I can’t figure you out.”
I smiled and tried to respond in a light tone. “What do you mean?”
“You come in here, insistent that you need to look at the account. And now you’re just…you’re ready to go. Without having seen or learned anything.” She eyed me. “It makes me think you aren't telling me something.”
“That’s not true,” I told her. My keys were in my pocket and I pulled them out. “I know about your trip, and how important it is for you to go. You’ve told me you didn’t take the money, and you’ve offered access to your own bank accounts if I want to look. The password you have for the ladies society bank account is incorrect. I’d say I’ve learned a lot over the past thirty minutes.”
It was true. I had discovered quite a lot of new information. The problem was, I didn’t have the foggiest idea what it all meant.
It was silent for a moment.
“And the not telling me something part?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “What about that?”
I squeezed my keys. “Let's just say it's not that I'm not telling you something. It's that I'm keeping some things to myself. For the moment.”
She frowned at me. “What exactly does that mean?”
I headed for the door. “When I figure it out, I'll let you know.”
“What you mean or what happened to the money?”
“Yes,” I said. “Bye, Vivian.”
THIRTY TWO
I stopped for gas after leaving Vivian’s.
I stood outside by the pump, waiting as the tank filled up. Gasoline fumes filled my nostrils, and I wondered if I’d been smelling something else earlier, something that had made me act recklessly and offer money to Vivian to fund her trip.
I’d done a lot of weird things over the last seventy-hou
rs, things that were very un-Rainy like.
Maybe I was starting menopause or something.
Or maybe I was beginning to care about the people in this town I now called home.
Maybe I was making friends, and people were becoming friends with me, whether we wanted to or not.
The hose jerked and the numbers on the pump came to a standstill. I dislodged the nozzle and hung it back up. When I turned back around, Declan was standing in front of me.
“Hi,” he said, grinning.
I smiled back.
He held up a half-eaten hot dog. “Just grabbing a little lunch.”
“That’s lunch?”
He smiled a little sheepishly. “I’m a sucker for gas station hot dogs.”
I chuckled. “Me, too.”
His expression lit up. “Yeah?” He nodded toward the entrance of the gas station mini mart. “Let me buy you one.”
I remembered my forgotten burger at the Wicked Wich. “No, no, you don’t have to—” I began but he’d already started walking back toward the store.
“It’s 49-cent hot dogs all day,” he said, turning back to look at me. “It’s the least I can do.” He disappeared through the door.
A minute later, he was back by my side, shoving a hot dog in my hand. It was coated with a thin layer of mustard.
“Mustard okay?” he asked, almost as an afterthought. “I probably should have asked before I went in.”
“Mustard is perfect,” I told him. I leaned against the hood of my car and bit into the dog. It was piping hot, and the flavor exploded in my mouth.
He’d polished off his dog and was now holding a bottled water instead. He uncapped it and brought it to his mouth. He took a sip, then screwed the lid back on. “So, how are things?”
It was an innocent enough question. I could have told him about the pumpkins I’d bought, or the news that Laura and her boyfriend would be coming for Thanksgiving.
But I knew that wasn’t what he was asking about.
“I’m not really sure,” I said.
He waited for me to elaborate. Not in a demanding way; that was Declan’s style. He just stood next to me, his eyes on mine, a warm, reassuring smile on his face.
And I unloaded.
I told him about Vivian’s trip. And Sophia’s cash payment and business woes. The only thing I didn’t mention was what I’d discovered about Walter. For some reason, that felt off-limits, as if I’d be betraying Sophia by sharing that with someone else. It felt weird, the sudden protectiveness I felt toward her.
Declan finished off his water. “Well, that adds a few wrinkles to the situation, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. I ate the last bit of my hot dog and crumpled up the paper boat. I tossed it into the trashcan by the pumps.
“Any idea what might have happened?” He paused. “And when you think it might be time to get the authorities involved?”
I frowned. “I have a few more leads I’m looking into,” I said. “I’d like to see those through before bringing you-know-who in.”
He snickered. “I don’t blame you.” Sheriff Lewis wasn’t his favorite person, either.
A truck rumbled up behind us, the engine too loud for me to respond. I waited for the engine to shut off.
“The ladies society is having an emergency meeting tonight,” I said. “So I think I might pop in and see if I can get a little more information to try to figure things out once and for all.”
“You’re a good friend, Rainy.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.”
Declan nodded. “You’re trying to help both of them. Well, the whole society, really. And even though you have your suspicions, your doubts about them and if they’re involved, you’re giving them a fair shake. Not many people would do that.”
“I don’t know about that.” I felt like a parrot, repeating the same phrase, but I did it anyway.
“Well, I do,” he said firmly. “And I also heard that you fronted the money for the festival.”
I felt the heat flood my cheeks.
“That was a pretty amazing thing to do.” His voice was soft. “But that doesn’t surprise me, either. Because you’re a pretty amazing woman, Rainy Day.”
His hand brushed my arm and he gave me a little squeeze. It was an innocent enough gesture but, for some reason, my heart leapt at both his words and his touch. Maybe it was the recognition, the fact that he had noticed—and was telling me—that I was a good person.
Or maybe it was something else entirely.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
The voice made me spin around.
The owner of the pick-up truck that had rumbled in behind my car was standing just a few feet away, his eyes trained on the hand on my arm.
Declan straightened but didn’t let go of me.
“Hello, Gunnar.”
THIRTY THREE
I jumped away from Declan like I’d been stuck by a cattle prod.
“Gunnar,” I said, yanking my sleeve down, covering the spot on my arm Declan had just touched. “What are you doing here?”
He glanced around at his surroundings. “This may come as a shock but…getting gas. What are you doing here?”
I bit my lip, feeling ridiculous over having asked such a stupid question. “Getting gas.”
He nodded at Declan. “Howdy.”
“Hello, Gunnar,” Declan said, nodding at him.
Gunnar leaned a little closer to me. “Looks like you got lunch, too.”
I raised my eyebrows in question.
He reached out and he rubbed at my lip with his forefinger. His skin felt rough against my lip, and warm, and his touch made my stomach jump. “You had a little mustard there.”
“I was going to mention that,” Declan said.
“Oh.” I rubbed my tongue over my lips, making sure I got the last of it and getting a taste of Gunnar instead. It wasn’t soap or aftershave but the flavor was familiar, especially after the night we’d spent together, and my insides instantly turned to jelly.
“I was having a hot dog,” Declan explained. “When Rainy pulled up, I came over to say hello and she mentioned the hot dog. I ran inside and bought her one. A bit presumptuous, I'm afraid.”
“Uh huh,” Gunnar said.
“It wasn't presumptuous,” I said. “It was very thoughtful.”
An awkward silence descended over us. Gunnar glanced at me, then at Declan, then back at me.
“Am I interrupting something?” he said at last.
I blinked. “What? Oh. No, not at all. I was just getting gas and Declan bought me the hot dog and…”
“I should really get back to the office,” Declan said. He tossed his empty water bottle into the recycling container next to the trashcan. “There are some last-minute things we need to do before the fall festival.” He gave Gunnar a warm smile. “Hope to see you there, Gunnar. I know it’s geared mostly to kids and families, but we really do welcome everyone. So please come if you can. And I know Rainy will be there.” He gave me a smile and a nod and then left.
“You’ll be there?” Gunnar asked.
“What?” I whirled back around to look at him. “At the festival? Yes, yes I will be.”
“By yourself?”
I frowned. “What?”
Gunnar shoved his hands into his pockets. “You going alone or with someone?”
“What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. “Just asking. Declan seems to know more about your plans and whereabouts than I do most days. Maybe you’re going with him?”
My frown deepened. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m not.”
“I am not going to the festival with Declan, or anyone else.”
Gunnar toed the pavement. “Not even me?”
“Do you want to go?”
He looked up at me. “I want to spend time with you, Rainy. I don’t care if that’s on your couch or in your garden or in your bed. I don’t care if we hole up at our houses or if we go out
in public.”
My heart fluttered in response.
Gunnar’s gaze shifted downward and he focused on the tip of his work boot as he kicked at the seam in the concrete. “You and Declan close?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I saw him touching you. I see the way he looks at you.”
“Declan is my friend,” I said. “Nothing more.”
“I think he’d like to be more.” Gunnar looked up at me, his expression mild.
“I can't tell you what he thinks,” I said firmly. “I can only tell you what I know. And we are friends.”
“And what are we?” he asked, cocking his head. “Are we friends?”
I stared at him, drinking in his hazel eyes and half-smile, remembering how I’d spent my evening and my morning.
With him. In his strong embrace.
I pushed off the hood of my car. “Yeah, we’re friends.”
His eyes clouded.
I got on my tiptoes and wrapped my arms around his neck. I nuzzled his ear, my mouth grazing his lobe as I whispered, “And then some.”
THIRTY FOUR
Vivian’s driveway was filled with cars when I returned to her house later that night.
I didn’t know why I was there. Yes, the emergency meeting of the Latney Ladies Society was scheduled for that evening. But I hadn’t been invited. I wasn’t a member. I had no reason to be pulling into her driveway, no reason to walk up her sidewalk, and no reason to approach her front door.
But that didn’t stop me. It was as if I was one magnet and Vivian’s house was the other, and no matter what I did, I was going to end up on her doorstep, waiting to be let in.
Vivian answered the door before I could even knock.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes as wide as saucers. She glanced back into the house, blocking me from view.
It was a question I didn’t have an answer for.
“I…I just thought I’d see how everything was going,” I said lamely.
