by D. B. Henson
“You have to call the sellers of Coldwater Court,” Dana said. “The buyer is insisting they leave the dining room drapes, although I don’t know why she wants the tacky things. Regardless, we have to hold this sale together, and I’m sure she’s going to walk if the sellers don’t give in.”
No hello. No how are you holding up? Is there anything I can do? No concern at all that Toni had just lost the person closest to her. Just, I need this. It was typical Dana.
“I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” Toni said.
“Good, because I’ve already made the change on the contract. I need you to get their initials by Monday.” She shoved the contract under Toni’s nose.
Toni shot her a look that could freeze hell over, but nothing phased Dana. She was used to it.
“What’s this?” Dana asked as she pulled the wedding gift from the trash.
“It’s from someone who calls herself my mother.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story.”
Not interested in anyone’s life but her own, Dana dropped the gift on the edge of Toni’s desk. “Don’t forget, initials by Monday.”
She didn’t bother to shut the door on her way out.
Toni stared at the package. She might as well open it, even though she intended to return whatever was inside. She slipped off the bow, pulled off the top of the box and lifted out a Baccarat Crystal vase. No one could ever ask for a more beautiful gift. It was exquisite. And yet, to Toni, it was about as desirable as a plague of locusts.
Why doesn’t she get it? She was never around when I needed her. So, why does she think I would want her in my life now?
Her mother had left when Toni was only six years old. She still remembered that morning in November. It was the day after her birthday, two days after Thanksgiving. She woke up early and went into the kitchen. She planned to help her mother with breakfast by stirring the pancake batter, a Saturday morning tradition. Instead, she found her father sitting at the table alone, his head cradled in his hands, sobbing. It was the first and only time she had ever seen him cry.
It took hours for him to find the words to tell her that her mother was gone. That she was not coming back. But he was quick to explain that it was not Toni’s fault. That she had done nothing wrong.
Beginning that day, her father had raised her on his own, the best he knew how. Afraid of having his soul crushed again, he never remarried. He made Toni the focus of his life. He was the one who stayed all night by her bedside when she had the measles. He worked twelve-hour days to put food on the table, clothes on her back, and make certain she had all the things a young girl needed.
He did everything imaginable to ensure her life was as happy and normal as it could possibly be, including putting some money away to help pay for her college education. And when he became ill, Toni alone comforted him.
Against his protests, she took a semester off from college and cut a few hours from her job waiting tables in order to spend more time nursing him, willing him to live. But the invading cancer had been merciless, quickly spreading throughout his body. He succumbed to the disease the year before she graduated.
Her mother, however, had left her by choice. She never said goodbye. Never explained anything. She just disappeared. No matter how many wishes Toni made at that stupid fountain, she never came back. She never called. Not until the afternoon of Toni’s twenty-first birthday. The day she miraculously reappeared at their front door.
But by then, it was too late.
For some reason, her mother didn’t seem to understand the concept of time. She didn’t understand why Toni couldn’t welcome her back with open arms and allow her to pick up right where she had left off. As if she had done nothing wrong.
Over the years, her mother had made a few feeble attempts to set things right. When Toni had moved from Alabama to Tennessee, trying to make a fresh start, trying to leave the bad memories behind, her mother had followed. But Toni wasn’t interested.
Not then and not now.
Her mother had sent a few birthday and Christmas cards and an occasional letter filled with the details of life with her second husband. Each one made Toni cringe. What had been so wrong with the life her mother had left? Why hadn’t Toni and her father been good enough?
Tears of anger stung her eyes. Anger at her mother. Anger at her father’s cancer. Anger at losing Scott. With all the strength she could summon, she hurled the vase against the wall, shattering it into a million shimmering slivers.
The intercom buzzed. It was Shannon. Toni cleared her throat, took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.
“Yes?”
“Are you taking calls?” Shannon asked.
“Who is it?”
“Someone wanting information about your listing on Red Oak.”
“Give it to the agent on floor duty. Oh, and Shannon, could you send up a broom and a dustpan? I’ve had a little accident.”
“Yeah. I’ll have somebody bring it right up.”
“Thank you.”
Toni swept up the mess as best she could. Only a vacuum would be able pick up all the tiny shards buried in the carpet. Fortunately, the janitorial service scheduled their cleaning on Saturday nights. They should have better luck.
She carried the broom and dustpan into the outer office, leaned them against the wall, and then walked back to her desk. She gathered the pages of the exposé from the printer, opened her briefcase and started to shove them inside. She stopped short when she saw a stack of listing paperwork she had completely forgotten about.
The house belonged to Josh Martin, a man she had once dated. After a few months, it became obvious they weren’t romantically suited for each other, but they had managed to remain friends. She had met with Josh the day before Scott died. He wanted to take care of all the paperwork necessary to get his home on the market before Toni left on her honeymoon. He had postdated the listing forms because he was leaving town on business and didn’t want the house shown until he returned. With all that had happened, the new listing had been the farthest thing from her mind.
Toni pulled out the forms and the small brown envelope containing two keys to Josh’s house. One of the keys she stashed inside a lock box. The other she left in the envelope. She flipped through the MLS information, property condition disclosure, advertising sheets, and various other forms making sure everything was completed and signed. Then she paper clipped it all together and stuck it into a file folder with the key envelope. She attached a sticky note to the outside of the folder informing Janet and Cheryl about the special circumstances of the listing. Then she threw the lock box into her briefcase along with Brian’s article.
She turned back to the computer monitor and started to close Internet Explorer. On the screen, she spotted an item she had somehow overlooked. She clicked on the link. Unlike the others, Brian had not written this article. Instead, in this particular story, he was the subject.
Her pulse quickened as she read the headline.
CHAPTER 7
The phone rang twice.
“Hello?”
“Did you take care of it?”
“Everything’s clean. I replaced the hard drive.”
“What about back ups?”
“I checked. There were none.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
The line went dead.
Judgment Against Reporter For 2.1 Million
Toni quickly scanned the article printed in the Washington Times a few months earlier. It chronicled a lawsuit between Brian and a Midwestern meatpacking company. She remembered reading the story he had written accusing the management of bribing federal inspectors and knowingly shipping ground beef contaminated with Salmonella and Listeria monocytogenes to fast food restaurants across the nation. The company had sued, claiming Brian’s allegations were false. They charged he had planted evidence while working undercover at the plant. Based on the testimony of two employees who claimed they ha
d witnessed Brian’s activities, a judge had ruled in the company’s favor, finding Brian guilty of slander and ordering him to pay damages.
Toni clicked the print icon.
The story was exactly the kind of information she was looking for. Realtors were required to carry errors and omissions insurance, which would pay a portion of the damages if they ever found themselves on the losing end of a lawsuit. She wondered if reporters had any type of coverage. Either way, the article reinforced her suspicions.
Brian had a financial motive for murder.
Toni searched through her purse looking for the card the police detective had given her at the hotel. It had somehow lodged itself between the pages of her check register. She dialed the number for the Blanton Hills Police Department, printed below his name.
“I need to speak with Detective Russell Lewis please.”
“One moment,” a female voice said.
She put Toni on hold. After two verses of a Muzak version of the Beatles’ Hard Day’s Night, the voice came back on the line. “I’m sorry, Detective Lewis is not in. Can I take a message?”
“Do you know when he’s expected back?”
“Just a minute.” This time, instead of putting her on hold, Toni heard the woman cover the receiver with her hand, and then the sound of muffled voices in the background. “He’s not due back on duty until Monday morning. Would you like me to leave a note for him to call you?”
The day and a half she would have to wait seemed more like a century. “No, that’s okay. Thanks.” She hung up the phone.
Toni knew the evidence was circumstantial, but she felt it was worth pursuing. She only hoped the detective would agree.
Mark climbed on the treadmill and set the speed at four miles per hour. He would walk at this pace for approximately three minutes before increasing to a slow jog and then finally to a six-mile per hour run. He followed the routine every other day, Monday through Saturday.
On the days he didn’t run, he worked out with free weights. Although muscular, he stopped short of the bulked up look common among the other male members at the gym. His goal was to be fit, not a Schwarzenegger clone.
He twisted in his earbuds and then plugged them into his iPod. He ran his thumb over the click wheel and scanned through the music. He pushed play when he reached the album he had downloaded that morning, by the current band of the moment.
Something bordering on heavy metal blared in his ears. He couldn’t quite make out the lyrics, but he didn’t care. It was just background noise to him. Something to keep his momentum up, help propel him into the endorphin zone.
As he picked up his pace to five miles an hour, a petite brunette, dressed in a sports bra and running shorts, passed in front of the treadmill. She flashed him a smile and then a coy wave. Mark nodded and threw up his hand.
She was a regular, usually in the company of a blonde bodybuilder who he had assumed was her boyfriend. Today, she appeared to be alone. He didn’t know her name, but her lithe form had occupied his mind more than once during his workouts.
His gaze followed her as she made her way to the drinking fountain. She removed the lid from her sports bottle and began filling it with water. She glanced up, made eye contact, and then quickly looked away. Mark turned his attention to the treadmill controls, increasing his speed to a run. When he looked up again, she was heading toward him. She smiled, took a sip from her bottle, and then hopped on the treadmill next to his.
She raised the incline and began walking at a leisurely pace. All the while, she kept glancing in his direction. Mark fixed his eyes on the TV screen built into the treadmill. It was funny watching the Darling clan mouth a hillbilly song on The Andy Griffith Show while listening to some wanna-be rocker murder a guitar.
Any other time, he would have pulled out his earbuds and initiated a conversation with the brunette. It was obvious she was interested. But aside from the fact that he didn’t enjoy talking while he was trying to run, he just didn’t feel like starting anything. He wasn’t dating anyone seriously, and if he had seen her here alone a week ago, he would have been quick to ask her out. Now, for some reason, the desire was gone. It was strange.
Lately, the only person he could think about was Toni.
Mark had been married briefly. Her name was Emily. They met the first year of law school. They were happy for a time, blissfully even. Then he found out she was having an affair with one of her professors. He had always been faithful, had taken his vows seriously. When he found out she had strayed, he could no longer bear the sight of her.
He had met several interesting women since Emily, but none he wanted to grow old with. None that could make him forget the past and dare to take another shot at marriage. He preferred the single life. He could see whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted, without any complications.
So why did he keep finding himself wanting to spend time with Toni? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to get her out of his head. He told himself it was because of Scott. That he felt a responsibility to help her get through the pain. But he knew that was a lie. The truth was simple. Toni was the kind of woman that could make him want to try again. She was worth all the risks.
And that scared the hell out of him.
Brian sat low in the rental car, a blue Mustang convertible, the top up, his head covered by an Atlanta Braves baseball cap. He kept his eyes trained on Toni’s car, parked in the lot across the street. She had surprised him by going out so early. He thought for sure she would sleep in.
He had arrived at her house around nine o’clock and found that she was already gone. But he had no trouble locating her. Thanks to the satellite tracking device he had installed on the underside of her car. The instrument came equipped with mapping software, which allowed him to monitor her whereabouts using the internet.
Brian lifted the lid of the cooler on the floorboard of the passenger’s side and pulled out a Coke. He ripped open a bag of Doritos. He had been sitting in front of Toni’s office for nearly five hours. It was well past lunch, and his stomach was letting him know it. Not only was he hungry, his legs were getting stiff. He had just turned thirty, but after hiding out in the trees the night before, and sitting nearly motionless in the car all day, he was starting to think he was getting too old to be doing surveillance.
This time though, he didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t a story that was on the line. It was his life.
Around four o’clock, Toni walked out of the building and got into her car. Brian had hidden a listening device under her seat. When she started the engine, music from her radio blared through the receiver. Boston singing Don’t Look Back. He hoped she would take the song’s advice.
He waited for her to pull out of the parking lot and onto the street before falling in behind.
Toni opened the refrigerator door and stared inside. There wasn’t much to see. The tuna casserole was still there, along with two tomatoes, a carrot, salad dressing, a jar of pickles, the blackberry preserves, and a few bottles of Coke. In the freezer, she found a lone pint of chocolate ice cream.
Clad in one of Scott’s tee shirts that fell mid thigh, the cool air brought chill bumps to her bare legs as she stood and contemplated her choices. She hadn’t been to the grocery store in over a week. Not that she ever bought that much food. With their busy schedules, she and Scott had pretty much lived on restaurant fare.
She grabbed a spoon from the cutlery drawer and opted for the ice cream. She hadn’t eaten since the failed attempt at toast that morning and she was starting to feel a little sick. She threw the lid in the trash and headed for the family room. Before she could eat the first bite, the doorbell rang. She peeked out the sidelight. It was Mark.
Toni stuck her spoon into the ice cream container and opened the door. “Back so soon?”
“Get dressed. We’re going out,” Mark said.
“I don’t really feel up to going anywhere.”
“What’s that you’re eating?”
Toni sm
iled and hid the ice cream behind her back.
“Yeah, I know. I looked in your refrigerator last night. That’s why we’re going out.”
“You’re too smart for your own good.”
“That’s right. And don’t you forget it.”
They drove to Santini’s, her favorite Italian restaurant, and ordered an extra-large pizza with spicy beef, mushrooms, and green peppers. As she sipped her soda, Toni couldn’t help but remember the last time she had been there with Scott. They had been so happy. Neither of them knew that their time together would be so short.
“What was Scott like when he was growing up?” she asked.
“Let me see. He was athletic. Practically lived outdoors. And popular. He always had about a dozen girlfriends at any given time. And he never could resist a challenge. He excelled at everything he ever did. Everything always came easy for Scott.”
“I wish I had known him then.”
Mark smiled. “Me too.”
Toni picked at her pizza. “What about Brian? Were you friends with him?”
“Well, he was always around. But he was three years younger. He had his own group of friends. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just want to be prepared. Find out about the person I’m up against.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll handle everything. It doesn’t matter what Brian does. We’re going to win.”
The inheritance was not what was on her mind. She couldn’t care less about that. The only thing that interested her was finding out what really happened to Scott. And it seemed that Brian might be the only one who knew the answer.
“Was Brian anything like Scott?” Toni asked.
“In some ways, I guess. But he was quieter. He played sports the same as Scott, but he also liked to read. He was always making up stories. He had a great imagination.”
“Did he have a temper?”
“That’s a strange question. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
