by Penny Henry
She pushed back the door and wandered inside. The color was predominately red and the room was not in the least bit untidy. A double bed occupied centre spot and the dark wood furniture gave the bedroom a masculine feel. Temple was impressed by Travis' taste. She began once more to wonder why Travis had preferred the yellow room. She was pulling the door shut when she saw it resting against a wall. She remembered there had been a picture hook in the yellow room and had assumed whatever hung there has been taken down for the decorating. She instantly knew that it had been deliberately removed. The portrait was life size and Temple couldn't understand how she had missed it. Of course it was of Melanie. She had been blonde and pretty - like a thousand other Florida teens. Temple thought of herself at that age. There were similarities that were ten-a-penny in the Sunshine State. But that wasn’t the point. Temple was horrified that Travis had kept the picture from her. He had inadvertent made it into a guilty secret and the idea angered her. If he was obsessed with Melanie’s death then it was something she should know about. She felt betrayed. What else was Travis keeping from her?
A movement at the door startled Temple into turning round. Travis stood there in a loosely belted robe. His hair was disheveled and his handsome features were blurred with sleep. There was an apologetic, hangdog look on his face.
"I didn't think last night was the right time to explain," he said quietly.
"Explain?" Temple burst out. "I don't want to hear this." She pulled on the shoes she had been carrying and stalked from Travis' bedroom, pushing past him into the passageway. “You’re obsessed with the accident. She’s dead. Get over it!”
"Temple!" He began to take slow steps behind her fleeing figure. "Don't be ridiculous. It's not like that. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I needed time to find the right moment. Temple! She was my daughter. It’s all I have left of her―"
Temple stopped listening. What the hell was she doing here anyway? She had made love with the man who was destroying her father’s memory. She had fallen for a man obsessed with the tragic death of his only child. How the hell had she thought that he’d have time for her? She slammed through the outer door to the front of the house and ran to her car. She was yanking at the door handle when Travis followed her into the driveway. His features were torn in agony.
"Temple," he yelled. "Talk to me!"
Temple pressed the start button before she turned her head towards him with a scything look of contempt. "You've ruined my Company," she shouted at him. "You've trampled on my emotions and you've had me in your bed. But I will not grieve with you for Melanie! I despise you, Travis Campbell."
“Temple, I—”
Travis' words were lost in the roar of the engine as Temple gunned the motor to wheelspin from the driveway. She let the tears fall unhindered from her eyes. The road was clear and she gave the engine some gas. How could she have been so stupid? How many times could one person make the same mistake? She had no one to blame but herself. Perhaps she had been too quick to subconsciously find a replacement for Ben. Is that what she had been looking for, a substitute for Ben? Had she looked upon Travis as that father figure? Temple knew that she was simply trying to rationalize her impulsive behaviour.
She knew that her feelings for Travis were no more confused with seeking an authority figure than his were for Temple and the father's love he retained for Melanie...
The simplicity of her realization hit Temple like a thunderbolt. She had over-reacted. He had been trying to protect her from the vague resemblance to the sun-kissed teenager. It had been no more than that. But it was all too late. She had hurt Travis unforgivably. Temple cringed at the insults she had hurled at him. She knew she had made her last mistake. All they would ever do would be to hurt each other. Too much had been said. Too much had been left unsaid.
Chapter Eighteen
Sometimes it is best to accept the inevitable and make do with what you have. They were words that Ben sometimes used. Temple had decided to take the advice of her late partner. She applied herself to the rundown of the leisure complex with single-minded determination. To all appearances it was 'business as usual' but plans were going ahead to evaluate the development of the disused church and other possible sites. Many of the loyal staff were willing to accept a small retainer to remain available for a limited period. In the meantime, a temporary home for Hart Leisure was top of the agenda. Even running at a reduced level would be better than leaving the market place. Other proposals were materializing as the relocation of the leisure complex became common knowledge. Hart Leisure was a marketable brand that attracted the interest of several large leisure Companies, particularly if Temple came as part of the deal. It was not an option that appealed to her and the search continued for temporary accommodation. The current favorite was the operation of a scaled down version of the fitness activities in the grounds of a luxury Buena Vista hotel. A permanent home was going to take more time. But Temple retained her hope. She remembered the last part of Ben's saying - never give up on your dreams.
Jill's desk was no longer neat and tidy; it was piled high with files and pending paperwork. Temple eased herself into Jill's chair to make a start on reducing the mountain of paperwork. She had arrived early as usual, steadfastly ignoring the row of contractor's vehicles that grew longer every day. Elliot's car was now a permanent fixture. He was obviously taking no chances on the tiniest hiccup in the completion of his master plan. He was ignored by Temple and by every member of her staff. Word had spread fast in the tight community of Hart Leisure. Elliot Buchanan was decidedly 'persona non gratis' in the life of Temple Hart.
The door to Jill's office had received its fair share of abuse over the years. Sometimes an irate visitor had thrown it back against the wall. Occasionally it had been slammed hard enough to cause the whole room to vibrate. This time it was almost taken off its hinges as Grace came powering through the door.
"Elliot is being arrested!"
"What?" Temple had difficulty in believing her ears. "What did you say, Gracie?"
"Elliot is being arrested by the Orlando police department. Come outside and see for yourself."
Temple scrambled from behind Jill's desk and followed Grace from the building at a dead run. A group of Hart workers were gathered in front of the doors watching the drama unfold. Two police cars with lazily flashing lights were pulled up in front of the portable office unit and Elliot was being marched in handcuffs to the first car. An unrecognized man in a suit with his arms restrained behind his back was leaning forward in the back seat of the second car. Elliot was struggling against two burly officers, complaining loudly as he was frog-marched towards the car’s open rear door. Then he spotted the man in the back seat of the second car. He kicked against the grip of the two officers, fighting to get closer to the man who instantly threw himself backwards in the face of Elliot's abuse. Elliot’s threats could be clearly heard as far down as the leisure complex.
"I'll fucking kill you, Lance!" screamed Elliot out of control. "I warned you to keep your fucking mouth shut! You're a dead man!"
The abuse became muffled as the two officers forced Elliot into the back of the car and slammed the door. Temple watched aghast as the police cars pulled away with lights flashing and the proud emblem that proclaimed 'courage, pride, commitment' emblazoned on the door. The contractors milled around with their mobile phones pressed to their ears. Grace chivvied the centre staff back inside the doors. Jill had joined Temple in front of the building before Grace returned in time to witness the arrival of Tim Crane in his battered Ford. There was another indistinct figure in the back of Tim's vehicle, but the eyes of the three women were fixed on Tim's smiling face as he stepped from the Ford. The shiny badge of a Police Lieutenant was clipped to the top pocket of his shabby jacket.
"Good morning, ladies." Tim casually announced his presence. He fixed his laughing gaze on Temple's incredulous face. "Game, set and match, I do believe, ladies."
"Tim, if you don't tell us what just we
nt down, I'm gonna make you suffer so badly in your next class you’ll wish you’d stuck to jogging," warned Grace in a gravelly tone.
"Hey." Tim tapped his badge with his forefinger. "I'm just a servant of the City Beautiful, lady. We are here to serve," said Tim nonchalantly. Then he paid attention to Temple. "It seems like your hunch paid off, Temple. Your wild theory turned out to be correct. Ben died in the hotel and Trinity Ford called Elliot in a panic. He told her to pick up her things and leave. He promised he would fix it so that she wasn't involved. He also offered Trinity a little extra to keep her mouth shut. Then Elliot's mind got busy and he forged Ben's signature on the contract. It was a simple matter for him to get Lance Chapman to witness the document, and that was that."
"I knew it, Tim!" exclaimed Temple. "How did you prove it?"
"We raided Lance Chapman’s office after a drugs tip-off. That gave me the excuse to apply some pressure. We found cocaine tucked away in a drawer and confronted him with the proof that Ben's signature was a forgery at the same time. He broke down and gave us everything. We brought him along this morning to shake up Elliot. It's all over now"
"Drugs?" asked Temple, shocked at the connection. "How did you find out he was using drugs, or shouldn't I ask?"
"Oh, you can ask, Temple. You’ve got a lot of friends." He took a backward glance at his car and continued to talk as the back door opened. "Someone took a lot of risks on your behalf. He got himself mixed up with some pretty dangerous characters before he found out what he needed to know. There's always going to be something if you look hard enough."
Temple's eyes widened as Sean Richards slid out from the back of Tim's Ford and walked across to where they were talking. She rushed forward to throw her arms round the abashed man and hug him tightly. Then she stepped back and frowned. "What were you thinking of, Sean? You could have been badly hurt. Why on earth did you take such a risk?"
Sean looked embarrassed as he searched for the words. "It was for you, Temple - for you and for Ben. You both gave me a chance. You accepted me the way I am. You never questioned me or made me feel any different. I miss Ben... I... I love you both, Temple." His short speech came from the heart and everyone choked a little. Jill blinked her eyelashes a lot and Grace seemed to have something in her eye.
"Thank you, Sean," Temple finally managed to croak. Then she turned back to Tim. "Okay, so Lance Chapman was on drugs. I still don't understand how Elliot got him to sign the papers."
"Lance has been on drugs a long time.” Tim glanced towards Sean. “Lance likes to talk when he’s off his head. He was high when he caused the car wreck that killed Melanie Campbell. Elliot and his friends protected him. They’re all being arrested as we speak."
"So Lance Chapman was driving," said Temple quietly. "Travis was right. Melanie wasn't the cause of the accident." She couldn't help but feel joy at the news that would lift a great burden from Travis' shoulders. "And Elliot held it over Lance Chapman's head."
"Correct," confirmed Tim. "It was easy for Elliot to persuade Lance to witness the document once he had forged Ben's signature."
Temple wrinkled her brow. There was one more thing. "You said you knew Ben’s signature was a forgery. How did you know that before you confronted Lance Chapman with it?"
"Ah," said Tim mysteriously. "That's a story on its own. I wasn't aware myself that a while ago a package addressed to the Chief of Police was received at Hughey Avenue in Orlando. That’s the Police Department, if you didn’t know," he explained. "It contained the original document bearing Ben's forged signature, some specimen signatures on other papers and a brief note. I’ve only just been let into the loop myself or I would have told you earlier."
He might as well have hit Temple in the stomach with a baseball bat. Somehow she stayed on her feet and found her voice. "Travis...” she whispered. “He actually contacted the police department about…”
"He sure did,” Tim interrupted. “Apparently Ben's signature was a very good forgery. The forensics experts were 99% convinced. We just needed something else to make Lance Chapman cave in. We needed a bit more than the forged document. They might have bluffed their way out of it. Maybe brought in their own experts. The drugs bust was the key. Lance didn’t even try to deny the document was a forgery. Once we waved it in his face he crumpled like a popped balloon. And the rest, as they say, is history. I guess without the original we wouldn’t have had good cause to start the investigation. I reckon you owe Mister Campbell a big thank you, Temple."
"Yes… yes, of course… you're right," she stammered.
"We spoke on the phone this morning," carried on Tim. "He asked to be kept informed of progress. Seems he's got a tough time now protecting his Company's stock and looking after his own skin. He took one hell of a risk with his reputation."
Temple had drifted into a world of her own. Why hadn't Travis said anything? He had believed her from the beginning. But with Travis it had to be done by the book. The damned fool. Oh, Travis, she thought angrily. He had let his pride get in the way again. She suddenly realized that the others were looking at her and pulled herself together.
"Jill," she said. "Open the bar. Let's celebrate. Cancel your classes, Gracie. We’re gonna let everyone know that Hart Leisure is here to stay!"
"At this hour of the day?" protested Jill with her eyes full of horror.
"It's a special day, Jill." Temple was feeling alive. "Tell everyone the wonderful news." She turned to Tim, her face glowing with happiness. "You will stay, won’t you, Tim?"
"I've got some paperwork to do to first, Temple, but I'll be back. You count on it."
She hugged him close, speaking into his ear, "Thanks for everything, Tim. Thanks for believing in me."
"I’m always at your service," said Tim with a grin. “I reckon we won this one.” He winked before turning away to walk to his battered Ford. He gave a farewell wave and ducked inside to kick the deceptively powerful motor into life. The anonymous vehicle roared and disappeared in the direction of the long-gone police cars.
Jill was returning inside the complex chatting with Sean Richards. She had realized that Sean was the anonymous hero that had saved her from the rowdy gang on the back street route to the church. They appeared to be lost in each other's company. It really was turning out to be a wonderful day, thought Temple happily.
There was one more thing that needed doing. "Gracie," said Temple with devilment in her eyes. She stared in the direction of the milling construction workers. "I want them off my property. In about five minutes flat."
"Yes, ma'am." Grace grinned like a coyote, relishing the prospect and immediately setting off in the direction of the leaderless men.
Temple was left on her own to contemplate the incredible turn of events. She had it all back again. She had everything except the one thing she wanted more than anything. Without Travis to share her success, her victory would be a hollow one. The emptiness in her heart would always be there to remind her of what she has thrown away. She made up her mind in a heartbeat, running to the car and firing the engine. She had to see Travis now whatever the cost. If she didn't take a chance on rejection now she would regret it for the rest her life.
Temple was riding her luck. She made it to Travis' land without picking up one of the book of tickets her driving warranted. She braked to a halt in the empty driveway and sprang from the car. The door to the house opened as she ran towards it with her heart in her mouth.
"Julio!" She had foolishly imagined that Travis would always be there to greet her.
"Senorita Temple," Julio welcomed her brightly. "If you are seeking Senor Travis you are too late." Julio's leathery features took on an expression of disappointment. "He has gone, Senorita."
"Gone?" repeated Temple breathlessly. "Where has he gone, Julio?”"
Julio shrugged. "I am sworn to secrecy, Senorita. Senor Travis has business in other parts of America and overseas. He has international investments, Senorita."
"He’s really gone?" said Templ
e in disbelief.
"He is in much pain, Senorita."
"But he has heard the news of Melanie's innocence, hasn't he?"
"That makes him very happy," said Julio sagely. "Senorita Melanie can rest in peace. Senor Travis thanks you for it.”
Temple ignored the thanks. "Then why?" she asked. "Why leave? Melanie's name has been cleared. He can get on with his life. He doesn’t have to worry about the false accusations anymore."
Julio nodded. "You are right, Senorita. If you cut Senor Travis open you would find the image of his daughter. But you also would find his heart is missing."
Temple frowned. “I... I don’t understand. Tell me what you mean, Julio. Please..." Temple was begging.
"It is you, Senorita. You have stolen Senor Travis' heart. He cannot bear to think that you despise him.” Julio sighed deeply. "It would be more than my life was worth if I told you he had left for the Orlando International Airport to catch the one o'clock flight to New York."
"Thank you, Julio, thank you, thank you." She cupped his cheeks and kissed him before spinning back to her car. The door to the house shut slowly on Julio's knowing smile as Temple urged the hot machine from the driveway.
She raced towards the airport wrapped in her thoughts and fears. She couldn't blame Travis for wanting to be as far away as possible from her petulant behaviour. She had been impossible. She had acted like the spoiled child that Travis had told her she was. Now she was becoming nervous and doubtful at the prospect of facing him. Her state of mind wasn't helped one little bit by the long delays at every tollbooth on the airport highway. Time was against her.
She abandoned the car in a restricted zone and ran into the airport building; frantically searching for a screen that displayed details of arrivals and departures. Temple prayed that the flight to New York had been delayed. She scanned the first screen for the latest updates. The flight to New York had boarded. Temple's eyes stayed glued to the screen until she realized that the brief devastating message was not about to change. There was no mistake. Travis was gone as surely as her blood had run cold.
