seven
Laura had arranged the dinner at Coeur D’Alene’s in Eagle Junction with two of her closest friends that Monday evening. Jenna couldn’t make it, citing a fundraiser planning session for the elementary school that she needed to attend. When Laura offered to change the evening to one when Jenna was free, another shaking of the head that was audible over the phone occurred. Laura let it go, thinking Jenna was just not ready yet to take part in a group activity where there was certainly to be a lot of joking, teasing, and laughter. They all missed Jenna, but they were just happy to get out for the evening and enjoy a good meal at a nice restaurant they could all finally afford.
“Jenna spends a lot of time fundraising these days,” Kelly said.
“She told me she’s following in her mother’s footsteps,” Laura said, nodding. “I remember my mother telling me that Mrs. Buckley ran all of the local charities.”
“I guess when you don’t work for a living or pay rent, you can do pretty much anything you like,” Erica added. “By the way, my parents are finally going on that world cruise they’ve always talked about.”
“No kidding! That’s wonderful,” Laura said. “Haven’t they been talking about that since we were in grade school?”
Erica nodded while she was swallowing her drink.
“How are you managing the store while they’re gone?”
“Oh, I hired some temporary help, a young woman named Willow Wright. I met her at a floral convention recently. Willow said she’s going to be studying nursing at St. Scholastica College in Duluth next fall. She’s real good with the customers who love that southern accent of hers, and it’s working out well for me. I don’t have to work quite so many hours as I thought I’d have to with the parents out on a four-month date.”
“There’s such a thing as a floral convention?” Kelly asked, zeroing in on the one item of interest to her in Erica’s response.
“Oh yes,” Erica replied, laughing. “We’re just like everybody else. We have our cons, too. That’s where we swap ideas, find out about new hybrid orchids, roses and lilies, new arrangement ideas, the whole caboodle.”
“Don’t all the sweet and pungent smells flooding the room make you sick?” Laura asked, thinking about how many flowers would be at the convention and the fragrances conflicting with each other.
Again, Erica laughed.
“Heck, no. The flowers are in clear glass refrigerators for people to see, not smell. There’s only a light fragrance when someone opens one of the doors for a better peek or to test the scent. It’s really cool. You all should come to one of our cons. You’d like it. And we give away most of the flowers we bring, so you get to take some home with you.”
“When’s the next one?” Laura asked, thinking it might be fun. She could get ideas for silk flower arrangements in her shop, as well.
“Not for another six months. I’ll let you know in plenty of time to plan around your business.”
The three were silent a few moments, enjoying their meal.
“Oh, and Willow Wright is staying with my aunt and uncle, renting a room from them, until she finds a permanent part-time job and her own place, or maybe a dorm at the college.” Kelly picked up her wine glass and took another sip.
“Is this the aunt and uncle I met a few weeks ago?” Laura asked.
“Yes,” Kelly replied, leveling a knowing glance at Laura over the rim of her wine glass.
Laura bit her tongue, thinking how difficult an experience it must be for anyone to rent a room and live with Kelly’s aunt and uncle. They had visited Laura’s shop and behaved rudely to her, criticizing her goods and shop in general. Kelly had definitely not inherited those genes, something for which Laura was grateful. She smiled a secret smile behind her napkin and caught Kelly’s wink.
“You know,” Kelly spoke up, changing the subject. “I feel awful for Jenna. That’s three times she’s been engaged since high school, and every time it fell through. She’s had some really bad luck.”
Laura’s eyes grew large as she watched Erica nod in agreement.
“Three times? What happened the first two times?”
“You remember Bart Morningstar, the guy who used to be such a bully when we were little kids? He and Jenna had a thing going in senior year and got engaged right after graduation. We were all against it and told her so.”
“Yes, we were,” Erica added, “but she wouldn’t listen to anyone.”
“I was afraid she’d be an abused wife,” Kelly continued. “I told her that’s what happened to his girlfriends, the ones who would actually go out with him more than a few times. But she wouldn’t listen, and they started planning an elopement.”
“I’m guessing it’s because she didn’t think her mother would approve. Everyone in the town knew what he was like,” Laura commented.
“Bingo,” Erica said.
“So what happened? Did he chicken out?”
“Actually, it turned out he met some girl that he ran off with and married in Las Vegas. Left Jenna at the courthouse waiting by herself with the judge and two witnesses she had never met before.”
“Oh my God,” Laura said in horror. “How long did she wait?”
The table grew quiet as Erica and Kelly recalled the sad time for their friend.
“She was there from nine in the morning until they closed at four o’clock. She tried to reach him by phone unsuccessfully throughout the day and finally called Kelly and me to come get her. She was horribly embarrassed and devastated. She’d bought this really pretty dress. She thought he’d just forgotten the date or time and it wasn’t until I saw a wedding article in the county newspaper about a week later that we all found out he’d eloped with some waitress he’d met at a highway restaurant just a week before his marriage to Jenna was supposed to happen. He never said anything to her and continued to call and text her up to three days before the date as if it were all still on. After that last text, he never returned her calls and she never heard from him again.”
Laura grew angry over the episode. She’d known Bart Morningstar, the Bully of Raging Ford, but thought that this was a pretty low thing to do, even for him. She couldn’t imagine Jenna’s heartbreak. It certainly explained why she didn’t want to meet with her friends or go out and have some fun after this most recent affair.
“Is he still here in Raging Ford?”
“No, thank goodness. Never saw him again and nobody cares as long as he doesn’t come back. Even his family moved away.”
“How many people know about this?” Laura asked.
“We didn’t tell anyone, but Jenna told Connor, so he knows. We think it stayed there.”
“What did Jenna do?”
“She told her mother she wanted a trip to Italy for her graduation gift, so off they went.”
“Do I want to know about the second time?” Laura asked, shaking her head.
Kelly and Erica exchanged a glance.
“It was a handsome gold-digger from New York, after her family money. He had everything, smooth talk and muscles, and she fell for him like a ton of bricks,” Erica said. “She found out by accident what he was up to when she unintentionally overheard a conversation he was having when he was at her front door. The window was open above, and her nose was against the screen, watching and waiting for him. She heard a conversation where he was talking on his cell phone and letting someone know that she had taken the bait and it wouldn’t be long before he had access to her millions.”
“What did she do?” Laura asked.
“It’s the kind of thing that should have made the papers, but Will Kovacs would never have done that to her,” Kelly explained.
“She quietly removed the window screen and dumped a bucket of mop water the maid had just finished using down on his head. It wasn’t even funny, just the right thing to do. I’d have done the same thing only
the water wouldn’t have been as clean as used mop water. I heard he was yelling at her about ruining his phone. That was right before two security guards removed him from the premises and threw him outside the locked gate. I wish I had seen that.”
Laura was silent, thinking of Jenna’s three bad experiences with men. She was willing to bet that was why Jenna hadn’t been to see her mother and begin planning a wedding last December with her latest whom she had met online. Maybe deep down, she hadn’t expected the engagement to last.
“Speaking of romance,” Kelly said, “I understand you’ve met someone special, Erica.”
Erica blushed and looked at Laura.
“Not me,” Laura disavowed.
“Oh I know, it’s a small town. His name is Torrey Culver and he’s an amazing man. He’s just very shy.”
“One day, I’m sure he’ll stumble over the rest of us,” Laura posed.
“Yeah,” added Kelly. “And text us all a picture of him, so we’ll know him when he stumbles over us.”
The rest of the meal passed quietly with Kelly talking about another visual arts contract she’d gotten that would be a really big boost to her career and might even get her some notice from television or cable companies, Erica sharing her latest shipment of winter blooms and spring bulbs from Holland, and Laura discussing her quilts.
As Laura left the restaurant, she thought again about her friend, Jenna. Thinking about Jenna made her think about Jenna’s helping her last fall in setting up the shop to open. Thinking about her shop make her think about her quilts. Thinking about the quilts made her think about the cat. Thinking about the cat made her worry about the quilts, or at least two of them, and one in particular that the cat had dragged off the work table. Maybe she should look into the history of those particular quilts.
eight
Some blocks away from Laura’s shop on the other end of the commercial district of Raging Ford sat Kovacs Bakery, the humble-looking but famous establishment of William Kovacs, brother of Harry and Charles. The shop, which produced some of the most scrumptious and decadent culinary delights known to humankind, was sandwiched between a psychic and an accountant, but the queues on the sidewalk were always for the bakery. Often on Friday afternoons, folks picking up their orders for weekend get-togethers were queued around the corner and halfway down the block. On a slow day, Will would stop in to chat with the psychic next door, an old high school friend of his, and she would always promise him she saw many good days ahead for him in her cards and not to worry.
Will was the only one of the triplets who wouldn’t give up his youth, at least on the outside. His long hair was braided down his back from hippie days and he sported a walrus moustache, both, along with his eyebrows, streaked with gray. He never married but always had a Labrador following him everywhere. The latest one was named Peeks because the pooch was always poking his nose around a corner to see what the commotion was all about and he jumped back when he saw someone had spotted him. He was two years old and still acted like a puppy, sometimes pleasing Will, and at other times to his exasperation at the end of a particularly busy day at the bakery.
It was late after a satisfying and fun dinner with her friends, but Laura saw the lights were still on in the Kovacs bakery and couldn’t resist stopping to pick up some of the celebrated caramel fudge with sea salt. The sample Harry had given her was delicious and tantalizing. Electronic door bells announced her entrance, and Will Kovacs came out from behind the counter to give Laura a hug.
“Always good to see you, Laura.”
“Me, too. You’re open late.”
“We’re just closing up, but I can sell you anything you want. I never turn anyone away, especially you. What will it be?”
“A quarter-pound of the caramel fudge with sea salt and a quarter-pound of the maple fudge. And I also have an idea, but I’ll need a stack of your business cards.”
“Those are free,” he said, twisting towards the counter to reach the cards and giving her the entire stack. “What else?”
“I was thinking I could give out small samples of the fudge and steer some business to you.”
He gave her a look.
“You know the basic principles of business, I presume.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, nodding, “that every customer has ‘x’ amount of dollars, so if you drive them to spend it there, it won’t get spent here. It will go to someplace else. But I have an idea.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“I’ll need those little papers or crinkly paper cups for the samples and I’ll pay for them. I have a tray I can put on my counter. I’ll need the fudge, which I’ll cut up myself, and a sign that says, ‘Free Sample with Purchase.’ What do you think?”
He looked into the middle distance for a moment.
“Is there a minimum purchase, so it makes it worth your while?”
“I can do that, too.”
“I’ve got a better idea, Laura.”
She looked the question.
“Give me back my business cards and give me a stack of yours. On the back, you print ten percent off a purchase of twenty-five dollars or more at your store. You can get a rubber stamp to print them cheaply.”
Her eyes grew big.
“You want to help me and that’s nice, but people already know about this place. I have lines out the door most days, especially when I run the doughnut special, and for every purchase of twenty-five dollars or more, I’ll give them one of your cards with the discount. Deal?”
She gave him a big grin.
“Deal. Now how about that fudge?”
While Will was wrapping up the fudge, a young woman with curly shoulder-length blonde hair and dark brown eyes came out from the back, her hands in rubber gloves, carrying a small container of soapy cleaner.
“Not only may you have the fudge, but you can meet its creator. Kitty Lenz, this is my good friend, Laura Keene.”
The women smiled and greeted each other, while Will rang up the sale and gave Laura her change
“I hope you like it,” Kitty said.
“I’ve tasted a sample. I love it,” Laura responded.
“She’s a very talented baker,” Will said.
The lady smiled, nodded her thanks, and continued to clean up so they could close.
“Don’t forget to bring me back those cards,” Will called as Laura turned to go.
Laura’s thoughts returned to the dinner with her friends and grew heavy on the way home, as she considered what her good friend Jenna had been through. She felt no calmer after she got home. When Laura parked as usual in her driveway spot behind the shop, further down the alley, she thought she saw a car that looked like her old Civic parked along the fence on the other side of the alley. This would be the second time her old Civic that she had sold earlier that day had shown up near places where she’d been today and was now in her own alley. She shoved the thought aside that she was being followed because the car was in plain sight.
As she came through the back room, she saw nothing amiss with the quilts that remained on the tabletop, thank goodness. At least the empress had left them alone for a while. She could sleep tonight.
Up in her apartment over the shop, she pulled out one of the library books on quilting and discovered that, although historically quilts had been made from used or old bits of fabric, including the stuffing, these days, almost all new materials and batting were used. Yet in some third world countries where there was not a lot of money, the old way of creating quilts remained. She got into the structure of quilt making and soon got sleepy from her busy day. As she fell asleep, her mind returned to seeing the Civic in the alley and wondered why she kept spotting it wherever she went.
nine
Bright and early Tuesday morning found Laura at the police station to pick up her father’s old gun. Connor
had eased the transport from Maryland for her and there was little to do beyond signing the paperwork, picking up her permits, and taking the gun. Now she sat in her car and held the sidearm, well, actually, the sack that held it and the holster of the man who had been her father, Lieutenant Francis Xavier Keene, Raging Ford Police Department.
Keene’s Glock 9, formerly called the “baby” of the Glocks but sufficiently effective for keeping the peace in a small town a dozen years before, was the weapon Laura had gotten a permit to own and carry, now safely in her wallet, and the very nine millimeter weapon on which she had trained herself over the past seven years in Maryland. There was no awe in touching the cold steel and the worn leather, feeling close to her father and missing him; she had done that enough in Maryland. Today it was just the sense of a familiar friend.
She set the sack on the passenger seat and turned on the engine, her eyes glancing at two more library books she’d found on quilting that Melba Coombes had located and put on hold for her. She’d dashed there quickly on her way to the police station. Quilting and guns. She shook her head.
Connor helped in transferring the gun to Minnesota. With all paperwork done and the holiday season over, it hadn’t taken long. She was planning to put it directly into a safety deposit box in her bank in Raging Ford, but on the way home, she thought she’d seen her old Civic again, this time being driven by a woman with long, fair hair, not anyone she recognized from the angle. She saw the same car again, parked at the grocery store, where she stopped for a half gallon of one percent milk. She put off the trip to the bank and went directly home instead, keeping the Glock with her…just in case. She plugged her iPhone into the adaptor charger in the dash, as the charge was near zero, and she planned to catch the Civic on her phone next time around. Someone must have bought it quickly, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check into it.
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