by SUE FINEMAN
“You trust us with your bank accounts?” said Andy.
“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t ask.”
Julie gazed at Andy’s stunned face. Otis was matter-of-fact about his fate, and he was taking care of business the best way he knew how, but her heart ached for him.
“Any money that’s left after my bills are paid I want you to put toward Andrew’s inn.”
Andy nodded, and Julie wondered if Otis was leaving everything he owned to Andy. She witnessed his signature on the will, but she didn’t read the document.
Eve gathered all her papers and quietly left the room, leaving an envelope with Andy’s copies and another envelope with Otis’s copies of the documents on the table.
Andy glanced at his watch. “I have forty minutes before my next appointment.”
At the bank, Andy signed the cards under Otis’s signature, and Otis pushed the cards toward Julie. “You sign them, too.”
She didn’t think it was necessary, since Andy had signed, but she signed the cards anyway. Otis said he had his Social Security check automatically deposited to his checking account, and the check from the escrow company would be sent to his savings account, as he’d instructed. She hadn’t reviewed his closing statement, so she didn’t know how much was left after paying the bank and his share of the closing costs. He seemed to think there’d be enough money left to put toward the inn, but she suspected his medical expenses would eat the rest of his money.
Andy drove back to the office, his mind on Otis and the farm. He opened the door to his private office and caught Byron on his computer, downloading designs. Burning with anger, Andy confiscated the thumb drive and stormed into the boss’s office. “Mike, if you don’t fire that son-of-a-bitch, I’ll be gone by the end of the day.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“I caught Byron on my computer again.” He tossed the thumb drive on the boss’s desk. “He was downloading the designs for the condos.”
Mike pushed the button for the receptionist. “Send Byron in here right now.”
“He just left.”
“Is he coming back?”
“He didn’t say, but he had his briefcase and laptop with him.”
“Damn.” Andy ran out the door and down the stairs of the four-story building. He caught Byron by the arm as he was unlocking his car. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Let go of me or I’ll call the police.”
Andy grabbed the phone from his pocket and punched in 911. Then he handed it to Byron. “Tell them I intend to beat the hell out of you if you don’t come back upstairs with me.”
Byron closed the phone and let out a resigned sigh.
“You’re going to explain to Mike exactly what you’re doing with my designs. Or is it only my designs you’ve been stealing?”
“Yours are the best ones.”
“Upstairs right now or I’ll flatten your nose like I did the guy in the bar a few days ago.”
Byron took a step back and then walked back inside the building. The man didn’t mind sneaking around stealing from his co-workers, but he avoided confrontations.
Minutes later, they stood in Mike’s office with the two other designers in the firm, and Byron tried to talk his way out of trouble.
Mike glared at Byron. “This thumb drive contains designs from everyone in the firm, including ones I did myself. What were you planning to do with them?”
Byron shrugged. “Enhance my own designs. Our designs all belong to the firm, don’t they? So why can’t we share?”
Andy’s jaw clenched. “You stupid son-of-a—”
The receptionist poked her head in the door, eyes wide. “I hate to interrupt your meeting, but Andy’s two o’clock appointment is here.”
“Go ahead,” said Mike. “I’ll get to the bottom of this before I boot Byron’s ass out the door.”
“Check his briefcase and laptop,” said Andy. “And I retain the right to beat the hell out of the bastard if I ever see him use one element of my work.”
“Me, too,” said Craig, a seasoned professional who’d been designing for over twenty years. Craig had an excellent reputation in the business. He and Mike had been working together for nearly fifteen years. Andy had only been there five years, but in that time he’d made a name for himself.
The other designer in the firm had gone to college with Byron. Pete said, “He did the same damn thing in college. I thought once he passed his finals he was finished stealing from other people.”
“Why in the hell didn’t you say something?” Mike asked.
Pete shrugged. “I didn’t know how you’d take it.”
As Andy walked out of Bob’s office, Craig took Byron’s briefcase from his hand. Byron would get fired today, and he wouldn’t get a reference from Mike or anyone in this firm. He didn’t deserve any. Pete wouldn’t be there long, either. Nobody would trust him now.
Until the night at the bar, Andy had always avoided trouble. He hated fighting, but his designs were worth fighting over. He earned his living designing buildings people would be proud to own, and he wouldn’t tolerate anyone stealing those designs.
Andy walked into the conference room, where his new clients waited. Time to put Byron out of his mind and get back to work.
<>
Late Thursday afternoon, while she was making dinner at the farm, Julie got a phone call from Brent’s attorney, Cole Williamson.
“Judge Jorgensen has instructed me to contact you about the pictures Brent Bosch removed from your apartment.”
“Have you found them?”
“We believe they’re in the house Brent bought for you.”
“But we were there and all we found were my clothes.” How did he know where they were? “Did Brent say they were there?”
Instead of answering her question, he asked, “Would you like to take another look?”
“Most definitely, but I don’t want to go into that house without a police officer or an officer of the court present, and I’d like to take someone else along, if that’s all right.”
“It’s your house, Miss Tandry.”
Yeah, right. Aside from retrieving her possessions, she didn’t want anything to do with that house. “When would be a convenient time for you?”
“I’m not free tomorrow until five-thirty, and next week—”
“Tomorrow at five-thirty is fine. I’ll meet you there.”
She hadn’t looked through the garage or the closets and cabinets in that house when she was there last time. Maybe she should have.
Charlie came inside. “The puppies were wormed and had their shots. They’re outside in the grass, playing in the water dish. I’ll feed them again after we eat.”
Otis nodded his thanks. The trip to town today had worn him out. He belonged in a hospice or nursing home, where he’d get around the clock nursing care, but he wanted to be with his adopted family. If Julie was dying, she wouldn’t want to be alone either.
Andy finally appeared and Julie served dinner. She’d made scalloped potatoes from Grandma’s recipe and oven fried chicken from Hannah’s, and Charlie had brought fresh green beans and melon.
Andy seemed preoccupied. She waited until he’d eaten his dinner before asking, “What’s wrong?”
“We had an incident at work today. I caught a co-worker stealing designs from my computer. The boss fired him, but I’m this close to quitting.” He held his thumb and forefinger about a quarter inch apart.
“That’s what you get for working for someone else,” said Charlie. “Why don’t you go out on your own?”
“Because I need a regular paycheck. Maybe you can live on nothing, but I need a salary and benefits, health insurance. I now have a mortgage to pay.”
Julie shook her head. Why would Charlie encourage Andy to start his own business now, when Andy had taken on so many other responsibilities?
Andy turned to her. “What do you think?”
“I think th
e timing is wrong, Andy. Starting a business takes a whole lot of time and effort. And money. How can you build a new house, build the inn, make your mortgage payments, and still have the energy to start your own business?”
“You don’t think I can run a business?”
“I didn’t say that. I said it was the wrong time to do it.”
Julie didn’t tell Andy about the phone call from Brent’s attorney until after the dinner dishes were done.
His brows knit in a worried expression. “Would you like me to go with you?”
“If you have time, yes, please.”
“I’ll make time. I don’t like you going there alone.” He hugged her, the first time he’d touched her since he got there. “Sorry I’m so grumpy today. I’m worried about my designs, wondering what he was doing with them. If he was selling them to another firm, I’m screwed.”
“Did you report it to the police?”
“No. I don’t need that kind of publicity and neither does the firm. If people think their designs aren’t one of a kind, they’ll take their business elsewhere.”
Maybe they would, but no man should be allowed to get away with stealing Andy’s designs. He’d worked hard to build his career.
Someone tapped on the door and Charlie opened it.
“Hey, Otis, I came to see the pups.”
Otis introduced the man as Carl Jordan, the neighbor down the road. “He has the sire, and he’s gonna take one of the puppies for his grandson.”
“Are they weaned?” Carl asked.
“Yes, they are,” said Charlie. “They had their first shots today, and they were wormed. You get first choice.”
Charlie walked outside with Carl, and Andy followed.
Carl asked, “How is Otis doing since his mother passed away?”
“He’s dying,” said Andy. “Bone cancer. I bought the farm, and in a few days, we’re moving him to my parents’ home, where he’ll have someone with him during his final days.”
“Sorry to hear that. He’s a good man.”
“Yes, he is,” said Charlie. “I’ll be doing some of the farming, and it’s all new to me, so I may want to pick your brain.”
Carl nodded. “That’s okay by me. I live on the next farm down the road, on the right. Come by any time.”
Charlie shook his hand, and Andy knew his brother was serious about working on the farm. Maybe Charlie had finally found a profession that suited him.
Andy wondered if Carl owned the farm Paulina’s father owned at one time, but he didn’t ask. That farm could have changed hands several times since 1918.
Carl stepped into the fenced puppy enclosure and squatted on the grass. He pushed one of the puppies away and watched it run back toward him, wagging his tail, then he did the same with the others. Finally, he picked up the most aggressive of the litter. “I’ll take this one. He might be able to hold his own with my grandson.” He shook his head once. “The kid is spoiled rotten, but if I see him being mean to this little guy, I’ll swat him on the behind.”
“We were pretty ornery kids,” said Charlie, “but we learned how to be gentle with animals by having pets of our own.”
“You’re Mayor Donovan Kane’s kids?”
“Yes, sir.” Pointing at Charlie, Andy said, “He’s the ornery one.”
Talking and laughing with his new neighbor, smelling the fresh air, and feeling the gentle breeze on his face, Andy felt like he’d come home.
The farm was his now. His.
As the neighbor drove away with the puppy on his lap, Andy felt himself being pulled into the past again.
Annie wiped her eyes. “Can’t we keep just one puppy, Uncle Andrew?”
Andrew squatted down and looked her in the eye. “We’ll still have Sadie Belle, punkin. She loves to play with you.”
“But what if Mr. Johnson is mean to the puppy?”
“I’m sure the puppy will be fine with the Johnson family. They have a little girl just like you to love him.”
Still sobbing, Annie put her arms around his neck. Andrew lifted the small, warm body and held her until she stopped crying. “It’s not easy to let someone take something you love, is it, Annie?”
“No.”
“Don’t you think Sadie Belle will be lonesome without her puppies?”
“Yeah.”
He set her on the ground. “Why don’t you go give her a hug? Let her know you still love her.”
Andy sighed. “Sadie Belle.”
“What?” said Charlie.
“Andrew’s dog was named Sadie Belle.”
“What kind of dog was it?”
“A big, shaggy mutt.”
Charlie grinned. “The best kind.” He leaned over and picked up a puppy. “Two males and two females left. I’ll bet Billy’s kids will want the males.”
“I don’t care which ones they take.” Andy was beginning to question the wisdom of keeping Cassie and a puppy for himself. The new house wouldn’t go up until next year, and he couldn’t keep animals in the condo.
Every time he looked at the puppies from now on, he’d think of Annie, who died shortly after Andrew died. Losing a puppy wouldn’t be nearly as devastating as losing a child.
He wondered whatever happened to Betsy, Matthew’s wife.
<>
Friday afternoon, Andy picked up Julie at the condo and drove her to the house on Manor Drive. The gate was open, so he drove down the drive and parked near the front door. He was surprised to see his father there with a police officer and Brent’s attorney, Cole Williamson. Andy shook Cole’s hand. He’d met the attorney two years ago, when Craig designed a home for Cole and his third wife.
Cole unlocked the front door and pushed it open. The officer had brought a camera, and the sound of clicking followed them inside.
The house was mid-century modern from top to bottom. Good bones, but the furniture and black and white décor ruined it. “Looks like a damn doctor’s office,” Andy muttered.
Julie hugged her arms. “Except for the bloody paintings. No doctor I know would want those things hanging in his office.”
The library or study or whatever you wanted to call it was on the other side of the entry hall. “Did you search this room?”
“My mail was in the desk,” said Julie, “but I didn’t open any of the cabinets or closets.”
Andy’s father opened cabinets on one side of the room while Andy went through the other side. There was nothing of Julie’s in the room.
The dining room was furnished with a table and chairs and another one of those bloody paintings, so they walked through to the kitchen, which took several minutes to search. Again, they found nothing that belonged to Julie. They glanced in the family room and breakfast room off the kitchen and looked in the cabinet beside the black marble fireplace, but found nothing of interest.
The bedroom hallway stretched back, with two bedrooms on the right. The first bedroom closet was empty, as were the dresser drawers. Andy even checked under the bed, but all he found was dust. The second bedroom was a mirror image of the first one and had the same black and white decor. Even the bathroom cabinets were empty except for essential items like towels and soap and toilet paper.
The hallway took a left turn and the master bedroom was straight ahead and to the right. Andy stopped and pointed to the left. “Wait a minute. What’s over here, between the study and the master suite?”
“Good question.” Dad pointed ahead. “Let’s check out the master bedroom first.”
Like the other rooms in the house, there was nothing in the master suite that belonged to Julie. She’d removed her clothes the last time she was here.
Julie stood back quietly while Andy and his father examined the walls more closely. What were they looking for? They walked back down the hallway, opening linen closets and two coat closets.
Andy glanced at Donovan and reached into one of the coat closets. After feeling around the back wall, he said, “This opens. I don’t know what to push or pull or wh
atever, but I know it opens.”
Donovan felt around the door frame. “Looks like it was an entrance to another bedroom. Why would he close it off?”
“To hide something,” Julie replied. It wasn’t a question. Brent had deliberately hidden something in there, and she was almost afraid to look.
Andy opened the linen closet beside the coat closet and felt around. “There’s a lever on the bottom of the second shelf down.” He twisted the lever and the inside of the coat closet opened.
Andy walked in first, followed by the officer, who said, “Don’t touch anything until I get pictures.”
“No problem,” Andy replied.
Curious, Julie followed them in. The room was about eighteen by twenty feet. The walls were painted that awful blood red, and it was furnished with a bed and dresser, a sofa and chair, and a television. She recognized the rocking chair as her grandmother’s. An alcove held a kitchenette with a small refrigerator and microwave.
Andy opened a door. “The bathroom and closet are in here.”
Julie shivered. This was a self-contained suite with no knob on the door and bars on the outside of the window. “It’s a prison.” Her prison. She pointed at the dresser. “Those are my pictures and that’s my rocking chair over by the window. The last time I saw them, they were in my apartment.”
Her robe hung on the back of the bathroom door, and she found an open box of tampons in the cabinet, with the tray of makeup and other items from the bathroom in her apartment.
Andy wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. She was so light-headed she was afraid she’d pass out.
“Premeditated,” said Donovan. “He planned to bring Julie here, and if she wouldn’t stay willingly, he planned to lock her in.”
“That’s sick,” said Andy.
Unable to stay in that room a minute longer, Julie ran out the door and out of the house. She threw up in the flowers in front of the house. Embarrassed by her reaction, she turned away from the stricken look on Andy’s face.
“Are you all right?”
“Sure. Great. I just saw my prison cell.”
