by Dale Mayer
She sauntered back home, feeling a warm glow around her heart. It was a nice one-on-one, even if only one neighbor appreciated the fact that Doreen had brought a new perspective to town. Because, the more she thought about it, the more she really warmed to the idea that poor Henry Huberts hadn’t kidnapped the little boy at all.
He’d been doing a neighborly thing to help Paul, and instead they both had died in a terrible accident. And, as even Nathan had said, there’d been a huge log pileup in the river above her place. And one bridge had collapsed during that flood season. If the truck had been caught up in either event it would have had a terrible outcome. Back then the bridges were small wooden constructions. They had to be replaced over the years. Even the one closest to her was new, as in three years old. And the wooden one before that was an improvement on the one that had been there thirty years ago. So, in a way, her theory made a sad, grievous type of sense.
Chapter 19
Monday morning…
For the first night in a long time, she slept beautifully. When she got up the next morning, she carefully followed Mack’s instructions on how to disarm the alarm system. It worked. She stepped outside to smile at the sun dappling across her backyard. Today was a good day. She propped open the back door, then walked inside to put on coffee. The phone rang as she pushed the button to grind beans. Mack, … calling to see if everything was okay.
“I would have called you,” she said, “but I got the alarm system off on my own.”
“Are you still on for omelets?” he asked.
“Can’t wait until you get here,” she said. “I’m starving.”
He chuckled. “I’m loading all the ingredients into a box. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. We can make breakfast instead of waiting for lunchtime.”
Smiling happily and delighted to have a chance to eat a real meal and to learn something new, she walked around outside in the garden while the coffee dripped. Thinking about the garage, she went to the window in its back door entryway and tried to see in, but the glass was so dirty and so dusty, it was hard to see through it. She checked the doorknob, finding it was definitely secure, and it looked like the wood of the door was jammed, same as the interior door. She wondered if that was an ominous sign or just a typical Nan thing.
She went to the front yard, tried to lift the rolling garage door, but it wouldn’t move either. As long as it was secure, she was good.
As she walked away from the garage door, Mack pulled up and parked in her driveway.
“What are you doing now?”
She motioned at the garage door. “Just thinking that, if I can’t get in, likely nobody else can either.”
He nodded. “Good point. Come on. Let’s get some food.”
She held open the front door for him as he came in with a box. He lowered it onto the kitchen table and brought out bacon, onions, garlic, fresh spinach, cheese, and eggs. Plus the mushrooms she had particularly asked for. She watched in delight, carefully taking notes, then shot a video as he worked.
He groaned. “Why the video?”
“Because I’ll forget everything I see,” she said. “And I’m determined not to fail at this.”
He glanced at her, a gentle smile on his face. “You know, it’s okay to fail.”
She looked at him in surprise, then shrugged. “It’s never been okay to fail before, and, by now, I’ve felt like a failure in many, many ways. I would just as soon skip that this time.” She watched as he cut the bacon into small pieces and pan-fried it with chopped onions and garlic. She sniffed the air with joy. “Oh, that smells absolutely divine.”
Mugs barked at her heels, running around in circles.
She reached down and petted him. “I know, buddy. It’s food. We haven’t smelled such an aroma in many months.”
With Mack laughing and telling her exactly what he was doing and how he was doing it, he slowly built an omelet, adding mushrooms and spinach leaves to the skillet. Then he cracked the eggs into a bowl, beat them until smooth. Removing the cooked veggies to another bowl, he then poured the eggs into the hot pan. When they were mostly cooked, he layered the veggies over the egg and topped it all with grated cheese. As she watched, he folded one half over on top of the other, covering up the freshly laid cheese, and then he put a lid on the skillet.
“I only do this so the cheese melts faster.”
When he took off the lid, the omelet looked absolutely divine. With an easy maneuver, he draped it onto a cutting board and cut the big omelet in half.
She was still filming when he plated each half and moved them over to the table. She stopped the video, grabbed the toast she’d put on, snagged the butter, and brought both to the table. “This looks fabulous.”
“Now you know how to do it,” he said.
She nodded and looked at the stove. “I just have to get up the nerve to try.”
“No,” he said. “Tomorrow you’re doing it. No nerve required. You’ll just start, and you’ll make something exactly like this.”
“It seems like a far-off dream,” she admitted. She cut her first bite, took it into her mouth, and sagged in joy. “This is wonderful.”
“And it’s easy to make,” he said. “You’ll see very quickly how you can make all kinds of gorgeous things.”
“I hope so,” she said. “I was eating all kinds of gorgeous foods before.”
“Speaking of which, have you had any contact with your husband lately?”
She shook her head. “Why would I?”
“When is the divorce proceeding supposed to be completed?”
“I don’t think we can start until one year after the separation.” She didn’t want to talk about her almost ex-husband. He was the last thing on her mind.
“I spoke to my brother again.”
She stopped and looked at him, confused for a moment as to who and what his brother was. “Oh? Why?”
“Remember my brother is a lawyer,” he said, “and he says you can stop the property award process, even though you’ve signed the paperwork. And he also said something else I’m not sure you’ll be happy about. He wants to file a complaint against your lawyer.”
Her jaw dropped. “Can he do that?”
Mack chuckled. “Absolutely. Particularly if you’re a lawyer filing a complaint against another lawyer. What she did was gross misconduct. And it shouldn’t be allowed, nor should her work be allowed to stand.”
“But I’m the one who signed all the paperwork,” she said. “Wasn’t that onus on me?”
“Not if you followed your lawyer’s advice,” he said. “Which you did.”
She thought about it for a moment. “We’re back to that I-can’t-pay-him-yet thing though.”
“Nick is willing to see what he can do for free,” he said. “If it becomes something more complicated, then we’ll take another look at what might require funding. It’s possible nothing will.”
She looked at Mack, trying to hide her innate suspicion of attorneys. “You know I trust you. But I don’t know your brother. And he is a lawyer,” she said quietly. “I’m not making bad guys out of all them but …”
“But, in your experience, that’s what you’ve found so far.” He nodded. “I get that, but I trust my brother. He’s a good guy. If he says he can do a lot without requiring money, then I suggest we let him do everything he can possibly do without requiring you to pay for his time. You don’t know, but maybe your lawyer will have a change of heart when she realizes he’s putting in a formal complaint, and she could possibly end up barred from practicing law.”
“Can he do that?”
“If he can prove she’s dishonest, is a liar and a cheat, as in your case, then who knows what can happen?”
“When did you hear about this?”
“Last night,” he said. “My brother contacted me to say your situation wouldn’t leave him alone, and he wanted to help. If he could do something that wouldn’t take too much time, he was more than ready to do so. Particularly, he wan
ted to see the documents you signed, and he wanted the contact information for the lawyer who represented you.”
She snorted. “You know what? I’m kind of down with him making trouble for her,” she said, “but I really don’t want it to come back on my ex-husband because then he’ll turn around and make my life miserable. When he doesn’t get what he wants, he gets really ugly.”
“And he wants her?”
She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure he’s had her many times over,” she said in a dry tone. “The thing is, he doesn’t want to share his money.”
“But you’re entitled to a large share of it,” he said.
“Not according to my lawyer.”
“And that’s what my brother is saying. Your husband built that business while you were there. Nick needs some details so he can take a closer look at it. But, even if you don’t want as much as you’re entitled to, you shouldn’t be without anything. And that’s the problem. Look at you. You’re living on the money you found in your grandmother’s pockets for Christ’s sake.”
She glared at him. “You’re ruining a beautiful omelet.”
He stopped and then nodded. “Good point.” He chuckled and took another bite. “So you’ll repeat this for me tomorrow?”
She shrugged. “Well, I’ll repeat something. Obviously it won’t taste quite like this though.”
“You might be surprised,” he said. “There are many meals you can make without too much effort.”
“Maybe.” But the conversation was hard to come back from. Even though he meant it to help her, she felt depressed. Any mention of her ex-husband and their nasty separation sent her mood plummeting. “Why don’t we talk about something better?”
“Like?”
“The guy who broke into my place,” she said. “He’s a janitor who also works at the retirement home where Nan lives. And they’ve had a bunch of thefts. I’m wondering if anybody will look into that.” She gave him a pointed look.
He frowned at her in surprise. “Nobody mentioned a theft issue.”
“I imagine it’s kind of a common problem,” she said. “They don’t want the bad publicity. But, according to Nan, there have definitely been theft issues.”
“And you think it’s him?”
“It’s pretty obvious he’s got a problem,” she said. “And he works there and at the elementary school too. So who knows? I’m pretty sure he’s the one who made the threatening phone calls to me too. I don’t know why, unless he just wanted me to get out of town for a few days to clean out my place …”
“That’s possible. As for Nan’s comments, there’s nothing we can formally do until we get a written complaint …”
“If you were to actually question the suspect,” she snapped, “he might confess to it. To all of it, if we’re lucky.”
“And yet, he’s been released on those other charges,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “And I need a formal complaint to proceed on the Rosemoor thefts. Until then, I can’t.”
“I know. That doesn’t mean he won’t be back here for some other infraction,” she said with a snort. “Characters like that tend to stay true to form.”
“Yes, they do,” he said. “And we’re back to that formal complaint part, so I could talk to him about that.” He pulled out his notepad and jotted down a couple things.
“You know a lot of people living there at Rosemoor. Why don’t you talk to them? Doesn’t have to be a big police matter. But surely the retirement home would like to see a problem like this go away. Maybe it’s happening at the school too? Employee theft is a massive problem, no matter what company you work for,” she said with some authority. “My ex used to complain about it all the time.”
“That’s because he was probably doing it himself,” Mack said with a chuckle.
“Can’t argue there. I should have seen it happening, you know?” she said quietly.
He settled back and put down his fork on his empty plate. “Should have seen what happening?”
She figured there was probably a rule about not talking about your ex with single men, but he’d brought up the issue himself. “I should have seen that he was involved with somebody else.”
“I think the spouse is often the last person to know. And then it’s little things that make you suspicious. But, if they’re any good at what they’re doing, they don’t let on easily.”
“I was suspicious,” she said, “but I had no clue it was my lawyer.”
“Was she a friend of the family?”
She shook her head. “No. She worked for him on some projects. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to hire an attorney he already knew.”
“Who suggested it?”
Doreen looked at Mack in surprise. “She did. I guess that should have been my second indication. But she was all girl talk, how this was so tough, and she was so sorry for me, and she’d do her best for me, and …” Doreen shook her head. “The truth is, I’m a gullible fool. I just didn’t see all that betrayal going on right under my nose.”
“Most don’t because they are honest people who expect people to be equally honest with them,” he said easily. “That’s why it happens so often. And why the lying people get away with it.”
She nodded and then stared down at the last couple bites of her omelet. She cut it up, put one piece in her mouth, and sighed happily. “You are probably the best omelet-maker I’ve ever met.”
“And have you met many?” he asked drily.
“Chefs,” she said with a wicked grin. “I’ve met lots of chefs.”
“Did you have one in your house?”
“Of course we did. No way my husband would have anything less than the best for his dinners,” she said in a mocking tone. “And he still used to complain all the time.”
“In what way?” Mack asked.
“Not enough seasoning, too sweet, too salty, too hot, too cold, presentation wasn’t up to snuff.” She shrugged. “He needed to work behind a counter himself to understand what it was like to be part of the working-class people.”
“And yet, you didn’t have the same attitude?”
“No. I tried to get him to be nice. He used to mock me in front of them. They felt sorry for me. And I bet they weren’t surprised when he replaced me.”
“You are the usual age for that.”
She looked at him, then nodded sagely. “That’s what one of my friends told me. Along with I should have done something in advance to prepare, and why the hell had I been so blind? A woman I knew walked away from her marriage—one in which she and her husband looked really happy—and hooked up with an older, richer man. When I asked her about it, she said, of course, she didn’t love him. But she would get replaced sooner or later, and she wanted to make sure she was the one doing the replacing, and she got a step up in the meantime. Since then her husband died, and she’s very wealthy. I never could be that calculating. I never looked at my future and saw dollar signs.”
“No,” he said. “But neither did you look at your future and pick an old geyser who’d hopefully die soon and leave you all his money.”
“Nope. Apparently I had no plan at all. The good thing about that is, I had Nan. And she apparently made all the plans for me.” Her voice softened. “She could see the writing on the wall, even when I couldn’t.”
“For that, you should be grateful.”
“I am,” she said. “I have learned more about love and family since leaving my husband than I ever did up until then.”
“What about your mother?”
“My mother had a string of men. She’ll only go out with one if expensive gifts are involved. She’s not a prostitute.” She smiled. “But, when you’re supposedly high-class, gifts are important. She would say they’re very important for women her age. She has a collection. She has them appraised every once in a while. When she needs money, she’ll sell them off. She was never angrier than with one of the men she had thought was a great mark. He had given her gifts, but, when she got them appra
ised, they were cut glass, not diamonds.” Doreen chuckled at the memory. “It’s not fair that I laugh, but she was so outraged at the deception, and I thought she deserved it.”
“It doesn’t bear thinking about,” he said.
“It’s a whole different world,” she said. “But my mother was in a different kind of a class. She saw her old age coming and was grasping, trying to preserve her young looks for as long as she could. Whereas this friend of mine just jumped ship early on before her looks went, so she wasn’t caught in that position.”
“I almost want to say that was a good business tactic,” he said, “but, as a man, I’m fairly outraged.”
“Get over it,” she said with a grin. “I don’t think the old guy particularly minded. He died in bed, having a jolly old time probably.” She gave a bigger grin. “Besides, I’m not like that.”
“Obviously,” he said. “It’s hard to imagine you walked away with nothing.”
“It had to happen, I suppose,” she said.
“No, not at all. You’re more than entitled to some money.”
“How much though? My lawyer said I wouldn’t even get twenty or thirty thousand, and was that worth fighting for when she would end up getting the bulk of that?”
He just stared at her.
She looked up at him and sighed. “I’m really an unsuspecting idiot, aren’t I?”
“Let me talk to my brother. If your husband has the kind of money he seems to, chances are you are entitled to quite a nice chunk.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, wrinkling her nose up at him. “Does that mean fifty thousand, one hundred thousand?”
“How about a couple million?” he asked, watching her astonished expression. “You were married fourteen years, and he built his business from the ground up with you at that time.”
“He was an up-and-coming hotshot and had money from the beginning,” she said, “but nothing like now.”
“Exactly.” Mack pulled out his phone and sent his brother a text. “Okay, I told him that you would give me the contact information he needs, and he is to go ahead and do what he can for free. He won’t charge for any work without checking with us.”
