Memory Lane

by Vella Munn

  “She better not. Especially not at the prices she charges.”

  “What do you care?” The first speaker pulled his companion closer to the building so Kim could pass. “You want the best, you’re going to pay through the nose. Anthea delivers.”

  It was all Kim could do to pretend she wasn’t interested in the conversation. She smiled vaguely at the two men and then turned her attention to the window display to the left of the door. A half-dozen earthenware pitchers decorated with elaborate paintings dominated the display. Painted on the window were the words Norval Antiques. The two men had crossed in the middle of the street and were heading toward the wine and gift shop. Kim watched until they went inside. Then, acting on more than casual curiosity, Kim stepped into Norval Antiques.

  The business was easily the biggest on the street and if Anthea was responsible for its success, she was to be commended. Not only was it well stocked, but the merchandise was artfully displayed and included some fine antiques. The shop would have to draw customers from outside the immediate area if it was to remain in business. Obviously, judging by the man with the southern accent in the process of making a substantial purchase, it did. Kim had one question, one she wasn’t about to ask Anthea or anyone who worked for her. How was the woman able to get her hands on the quality and amount of merchandise offered here for sale?

  Kim wasn’t any closer to an answer by the time she left the shop. With her mind crowded with possibilities, she turned off Pioneer Street and headed toward the newer brick building housing the city hall, fire and police departments.

  She was waiting for the middle-aged woman in the main office to get off the phone when a door at the rear of the room opened and a two-hundred-and-twenty-pound man in a police uniform came out. For a moment Kim and the man stared at each other. The policeman smiled first. “Kim. Kim Revis. Would you look at yourself!”

  “Charles!” Kim’s grin was a twin of the one being directed at her. “I don’t believe it. You’re a policeman?”

  “Wonders never cease, do they? Not bad for a kid who thought he was going to spend his life repairing cars in his dad’s shop.” Charles motioned for Kim to follow him to the back of the room. Two minutes later Kim was sitting in Police Chief Charles Horne’s office, still trying to absorb the fact that someone who’d been two years ahead of her in school was now the police chief in their hometown. Not only that but Charles had married one of Kim’s childhood friends and they had two sons. Charles had no reservations about fatherhood or the only town he’d ever lived in. However, his enthusiasm didn’t extend to the museum staff. “It’s a hell of a mess,” Charles responded after Kim told him why she was in Camp Oro. “If you’ve met with those characters, then you have a fair idea of what I’m talking about.”

  On Charles’s desk were two pictures. One of two young boys photographed in costumes and background that duplicated old wanted posters. The boys had obviously inherited their broad noses and prominent chins from Charles. The second photo featured a slim, attractive woman dressed in a dance hall costume. She was responsible for the boys’ thick black hair. Sandy still looked like someone who didn’t take life too seriously. “I’d been warned even before I met the staff,” Kim explained, glad that the police chief had turned out to be someone she could be open with. “By the town attorney.”

  “Mark. Yeah. You’ll either like or hate that man. He isn’t one of those lawyers who never lets you know what’s going on inside him. Mark says what he thinks. I’ve always been honest with him and he with me.”

  “I hope so. He hasn’t said anything about when I’m going to be able to use my car again.”

  “That’s because it isn’t up to him. He’ll do the best he can by you. And if he can’t help, he’ll let you know.”

  “That’s good to know. The reason I wanted to talk to you—well, I suppose I should confine myself to the job I’ve been hired for, but I’m wondering if I might be on a fool’s mission.”

  “You wanna explain?”

  Kim took a moment to collect her thoughts. “The thefts—it might not be visitors.”

  Charles leaned back in his chair and clamped his hands behind his head. His hands were those of a mechanic. Funny, Kim thought, she’d never pictured Charles as doing anything except following in his father’s footsteps. But he had, and she reminded herself that nothing could be taken for granted. “You want my opinion?” Charles asked. “Might doesn’t cover the half of it. Look, Kim, Mark called me not more than an hour ago. I think he guessed you’d be coming here.”

  “He did?”

  Charles smiled. “Don’t let anything Mark Stockton does surprise you. He’s a jump ahead of most people. He said—well, let’s just say he suggested that I cooperate with whoever the board had hired. And now I know that it’s you—we need to be up-front with each other.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “I could name three, maybe four people I’d watch what I say around. Kim, right now I’m damn glad the Grass Valley paper hasn’t gotten wind of this. Because if it did, what I’ve been able to accomplish so far would make me look like the fool of the year.”

  After being called Ms. Revis all morning, Kim appreciated hearing her first name. Still, she wasn’t quite sure what to say in response.

  “What those fool reporters wouldn’t know, and what I wouldn’t bother telling them, is that I’m getting absolutely no cooperation from the staff. That director they have is so blasted busy doing whatever he’s doing that he can’t find time to talk to me.”

  “That isn’t right.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” When Charles shrugged, Kim was afraid his shirt seams might split. “I keep telling myself I shouldn’t be surprised. After all, they’ve got their own security guard, if you can call William a security guard, and they contract with the county to have someone check them a couple of times a night. The town and the museum, well, let’s just say it’s been an uneasy alliance. The museum doesn’t depend on local tax money so they figure they don’t owe the town much. Maybe they’re right. After all, the museum acts as a big draw for the rest of the town.”

  “But—they’re losing valuable artifacts.”

  “Exactly. You’d think they’d want the holes plugged up, wouldn’t you? If they are worried, either they don’t want anyone touching it, or they’re doing something to stop the thefts on their own. I guess they are doing something. After all, they hired you.”

  “The board did,” Kim started and then decided Charles should know everything. She relayed the essence of what the director had said about it not being his idea to have her here, mentioned that the business manager was being less than cooperative, and commented that she wasn’t sure what Anthea Norval’s connection was. And finished by saying, “Mr. Lynch acted as if he hated everyone in the room.”

  “He probably does. Calling that man a security guard is a joke. There’s training he could be getting through the police department. He’s asked about it a couple of times. But the museum has never budgeted the money for that. I don’t know.” Charles shook his head. “If you want my opinion, they’ve either got to get William certified or get rid of him.”

  Kim and Charles talked for another fifteen minutes. Charles candidly told her that his investigation was stalemated. So far none of the stolen merchandise had shown up in the county. He’d asked other law-enforcement offices throughout the state to keep their eyes out for the list of antiques he’d given them, but that was a long shot. Fingerprinting was an exercise in futility because of the number of people in and out of the museum. “A couple of the board members said they were going to take matters in their own hands. They weren’t too happy with me when they said that. If you get a decent security system installed, maybe that’ll do the job.”

  “Maybe.” Although it wasn’t quite noon, Kim felt as if she’d been on the go for days. “And maybe, if that happens, we’ll never find out who’s responsible.”

  Charles shook his head wearily, reminding Kim of a fighte
r at the end of a match. “I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. It’s an inside job. It sounds as if you’re thinking the same thing.”

  “I’m not sure,” Kim hedged. “I just got here.”

  “True. Look, maybe we can work together on this. You say you’re looking for someone who can install a decent system. I think I can steer you in the right direction. If you’ll keep your eyes and ears open…”

  Kim didn’t need Charles to fill in the rest. She got to her feet and stuck out her hand. “I’ll let you know. Anything, I’ll let you know.”

  “That’s what I figured,” Charles told her on the tail of a hearty handshake. “At least now I have someone inside the museum who’s going to give me a straight answer. You’re staying at your grandmother’s place? I’ll have Sandy give you a call.”

  Lunch consisted of two scoops of ice cream followed by a stop at a small bookstore specializing in local history. By the time she and the owner had exhausted the subject of the cave-in, she’d been in the shop for an hour. By then Pioneer Street was almost wall-to-wall people. Kim was still some distance from her useless car when it became obvious that the cave-in was responsible for the increased traffic.

  Since there was nothing she could do at the museum until Rogan and Garner had time to talk to her, Kim decided to go home. If nothing else, she could begin what needed to be done to ready her grandmother’s house for sale. Kim hadn’t given a thought to taking another look at the hole, but when she heard arguments over whether more asphalt had cracked off since morning, she slipped around an older couple for another look.

  Nothing had changed. The cave-in still fascinated her. Stifling a sigh that sounded too much like a gasp, Kim clenched her fingers and forced herself to move even closer. She couldn’t be sure; maybe the hole was a little larger than it had been earlier.

  “They ought to put a light down there,” a man nearby said to no one in particular. “That way we’d be able to see what’s happening.”

  “Give them time. It just happened this morning.”

  Kim wasn’t interested in what else was being suggested. As she’d done earlier, Kim crouched low to give herself a better view of the dark hole. The presence of so many people helped. Yet, it wasn’t enough.

  Come here. Just a little closer.

  “They’ve got to cover it up right away. Some kid’s going to fall in.”

  “I think it’s a shame. This is the most interesting thing that’s happened to Camp Oro in a month of Sundays.”

  Kim was on her feet and backing away rapidly before she’d regained her balance. She brushed against a man, gave him an apologetic smile and hurried away. She’d made a wide circle and was beside her car before she took a conscious breath. No matter how crazy it sounded, Kim wasn’t going to risk another look at what everyone else seemed to be able to take for granted. She forced herself to walk, not run, up the lane leading to the house where she’d grown up.

  Why was this happening? And why—? Kim stopped her questions. The dark hole had unnerved her this morning. The feeling had disappeared when Mark Stockton arrived. Now it was back again.

  The sight of her grandmother’s rose garden restored her equilibrium. Margaret had spent hours trimming and caring for the roses with her granddaughter chattering nearby. In the fall they would watch squirrels in search of nuts in the walnut tree. In the winter Kim would watch the heavy clouds forming to the west, asking again and again if her grandmother thought it was going to snow.

  The seasons, the love of a grandmother and father, those things were reality, not whispered words from a hole in the ground.

  Kim had talked to her grandmother on the phone last night about what Margaret wanted to have placed in storage and what should be kept out for the movers. Relying on the partial list she’d been given, Kim devoted her afternoon to filling boxes and recapturing memories. She was in the middle of cleaning out a cupboard when the doorbell rang.

  Mark’s smile wiped Kim’s mind clear of her nostalgic mood. “I thought you might have gone back to the museum,” he said.

  Kim shook her head but didn’t bother with an explanation. She was more interested in why Mark was here. “My first visitor,” she said as she let him in. “I did get hit up for some candy the Little League was selling, but I don’t think that counts.”

  “Did you buy?” Mark noted the boxes stacked by the front door. He was even more aware of the old shirt sagging over Kim’s shoulders and the long shirttail that covered almost all of her well-worn shorts.

  He shouldn’t be here. Yes, he had a legitimate reason for his visit, and as Margaret Revis’s attorney, he might be able to convince himself that he was here on business. But one look at the long expanse of leg, one instant lost in her cool hazel eyes, and Mark gave up lying to himself.

  He was here because he, the private man behind the professional, wanted to see this woman.

  Kim was telling him about a little boy with a huge baseball mitt tucked under his arm and sales tactics no one could refuse. “I don’t even like chocolate-covered raisins. Would you like some?”

  “Maybe.” Mark nodded at the boxes. “You’ve been busy.”

  “I’m feeling a little stymied.” Kim was sitting on a couch with a handmade throw over it. She curled her bare feet under her and started kneading her calf. The gesture pulled Mark away from everything except her and his reaction to her. “I didn’t get as far as I wanted to at the museum. I was given the cook’s tour, but I’m a long way from being able to formulate any kind of security system.”

  “How did it go? Did anyone give you a reason to be nervous?”

  “Nervous? Why should they?”

  “Good question.” Mark forced his attention back to the room. For a moment the distraction accomplished what he needed it to. Quickly, before Kim distracted him again, Mark asked his question. “Will you have to spend much time at the museum? I mean, how much poking around will you have to do?”

  “Poking around? I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  Mark made himself laugh. “Maybe I don’t, either. I was just wondering—the museum can be quite a distraction. I thought you might be interested in the collections. Your grandmother thought—”

  “I wasn’t hired to look at the collections, Mark. I have a job to do, but until I get some cooperation—”

  “So you decided to do some work here.”

  Kim nodded. “I still don’t feel right about doing this. These are my grandmother’s things. The little girl in me wants her living here, not in some sterile apartment in Grass Valley.”

  “Nothing stays the same, does it.” A radio was playing softly in the kitchen. Several windows were open letting in smells and sounds. Mark wondered if he would have noticed such things if Kim hadn’t been in the house, making him more aware of everything. “Your grandmother’s a wonderful, practical woman. She made the adjustment. I hope you can do the same.”

  “I know. I will.” Kim stopped working on her calf. She smiled openly and with the gesture Mark forgot everything he knew about the professional woman he’d met this morning. And what Margaret had wanted him to find out. “It’s just going to take a little time,” she finished.

  Mark explained that he’d gotten off work a little early because his parents were planning a trip to Lake Tahoe. He wanted to make sure their motor home was ready to go. “My father is one of the world’s great procrastinators. He puts off until next week what should have been done yesterday. Mom called in a panic because they were having trouble with their water tanks, and Dad was working himself into a lather. I shouldn’t complain. I’d much rather tinker, even with my dad leaning over my shoulder, than prepare a brief.”

  “I’m sure your dad appreciates it.”

  “I’m sure he does. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he put Mom up to it. Responsibilities.” Mark nodded at the boxes. “There’s no getting away from responsibility where our families are concerned, is there?”

  “I don’t mind. You didn’t sa
y. What are you doing here?”

  “You’re going to need transportation.”

  “I’m aware of that. Did the council decide to take my advice and throw gravel in the hole?”

  Mark’s laugh echoed. “There’s one thing you’ll have to learn, Kim. Nothing moves quickly in this town. However, a special meeting has been set for tomorrow night. I hope you’ll be able to attend.”

  “You’ll be there?”

  “Command performance. I’m paid well for my services. I’m not going to deny that. In exchange—” Mark shrugged his shoulders. “In exchange, the town believes they own me lock, stock, and barrel.”

  Kim knew she shouldn’t say anything. After all, even if he was her grandmother’s attorney, she’d just met him. However, it was important to her that they be honest with each other. “This morning someone said that the council does what you want it to.”

  To her relief, Mark laughed. “I’ve heard the rumors. Kim, the council is made up of volunteers. They’re not required to know the town’s legal obligations. That’s what I’m there for. If it seems as if I’m guiding policy, it’s only because I don’t want this town placed in an awkward legal position. When I take a stand, it’s a firm one.”

  “You don’t have to explain that to me. The Golden Gate Museum has a lawyer on retainer. I’ve seen him in action. Anyway, thank you for stopping by. You could have called me about the meeting.”

  “True. But I couldn’t have gotten the car to you that way.”

  “The car?” He was smiling; this smile was less open and yet every bit as appealing as the ones he’d given her before. “What car?”

  “The car parked at the end of the driveway. I wanted it to have air conditioning and a good radio.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I know you don’t.” Mark was nodding as he spoke, but instead of supplying answers, he got to his feet. He walked over to an open box and looked inside. “Dishes. What are you going to use while you’re here?”

  Kim explained that she’d packed the good china but was going to leave the everyday dishes out until the last minute. Mark’s silence on the matter of a car didn’t bother her. If he wanted to draw out the suspense, she was willing to play along. “I’m having a wonderful time,” she explained as she joined him. “There are so many memories here. If you have time, I’d like to show you something.”