by Vella Munn
Kim spent the afternoon meeting with the three security firms Mark had told her about. One of them was proud of the low false-alarm rate of his product but knew less about its long-term effectiveness than Kim did. Kim easily dismissed that one. However, the other two understood her needs and were willing to work under her direction. Kim arranged a time to meet at the museum with them in preparation for estimates that she would turn over to the board along with her recommendations.
By then Kim had a pulsing headache, but at least she’d made progress. She made a fruitless phone call to Cobblestone Manor and left a message for her grandmother to call her. She thought about dropping by the museum to ask Rogan if he’d come across the blueprints yet, but changed her mind when she saw a TV camera crew interviewing Anthea on the museum lawn.
The only thing she really wanted this afternoon was to see Mark.
She also knew better than to drop in on him unannounced. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight they would be together.
Kim was driving past the police department on her way home when she spotted Mark’s Blazer parked out front. Puzzled, Kim parked nearby and went inside. She could hear Mark’s voice before she knocked on Charles’s office door.
“That’s more than I thought they’d come up with,” Mark was saying. “You’re sure there won’t be anything else?”
“I doubt it,” Charles said. “We wouldn’t even know what we’d do if I didn’t have a friend working for the crime lab. I told him where it came from, got him all steamed up and he pulled out all the stops. It’s really something, isn’t it?”
“What’s something?” Kim asked as she entered. Charles smiled. Mark didn’t.
“What we found out about our miner. Or at least what’s left of him,” Charles explained. He waited until Kim had sat down and then handed her a computer printout. “John Doe” had been a male in either his late thirties or early forties. The date of death, based on the condition of the bone marrow, was estimated to have been the mid-1940s.
“The forties?” Kim questioned. “But the tunnels weren’t used after the thirties.”
“It’s got to be a mistake. That’s what I’ve been telling Charles.” Mark took the printout from Kim but didn’t look at it. He and Charles had been talking about a half dozen things in the twenty minutes he’d been here. She could have come in while they were saying something else. Anything else. “They’ve got to put down something so they won’t look bad,” he said, wondering if any of them could possibly believe that. Kim was watching him. He had to change the subject. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I must have left at least three messages with Rogan. Are things really the hornet’s nest gossip is making it?”
Kim didn’t bother to ask how Mark had heard of the latest theft. The man either had spies or learned things by osmosis. “The cat’s out of the bag, all right,” she acknowledged. “But at least Garner has come through with the financial information I need. I’d like to have a larger budget to work with, but I understand the museum’s limitations. Now if I only felt as if the other employees were working with and not against me.”
“What happened?” Charles asked. The police chief retrieved the computer printout from Mark and slipped it into a file. “I got a couple of prints, but they come from the cleaning crew. I’ve had my deputy doubling up on his night cruises around the museum, and I get by there several times during the day myself. Damn. This is making me look bad.”
Mark quickly reassured Charles that he was doing everything possible. The museum was a private entity handling its own security. The residents of Camp Oro understood that.
“Maybe.” Charles looked as if he was carrying the weight of the world. “But the rest of the county doesn’t. And I can’t count on the newspaper and TV to spell out the museum’s position in my town.”
Kim understood Charles’s frustration. She explained that she was advocating training for William and, if her proposal was accepted, she would need Charles’s help in getting the security guard into the police academy. Charles promised to add his weight to the proposal.
Kim wanted to tell both Charles and Mark about her meetings with the security firm, but she felt she’d interrupted their meeting too much already with museum business. Besides, her stomach was rumbling and her headache growing.
She rose to her feet but didn’t risk another look at Mark. There’d been nothing in the brief look he’d given her to take her back to last night. Maybe…maybe he regretted what had happened.
Kim pointed at the file containing the information on the skeleton. “What happens now?” she asked. “I feel as if I haven’t done right by that poor man.”
“There aren’t any missing persons’ records from the 1940s, Kim,” Mark told her. “And you’ve got enough to worry about without this.”
“Maybe.” Kim’s head throbbed, but she couldn’t let go that easily. “But if the tunnels were closed down in the 1930s and he died in the 1940s—”
“Let it rest, Kim.” Mark turned away from her. “Charles, you’ll write something up for me? If the council knows you’re opposed to leaving the cave-in open, it’ll have an impact.”
For a moment Kim could do nothing but stare at Mark’s broad shoulders. He’d dismissed her. He might have been polite and civilized, but the dismissal was there nonetheless.
She shouldn’t feel so insecure, so off balance. So hurt.
Kim headed for the door. “You’re going?” Mark asked.
“It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll see you, Kim.”
Kim. Why did her name coming from him have to have such an effect on her? “I’ll see you, Mark. Charles? Say hi to Sandy for me, will you. Tell her I’d still love to get together with her, but right now—” Mark was looking at her; his expression unreadable.
Kim’s resolve to dismiss Mark lasted halfway to her car. Something was wrong. Something she couldn’t understand and he obviously wasn’t going to explain.
She rested her aching head on the steering wheel. Her stomach was telling her that food was required. Her head was holding out for aspirin. Her heart—Kim had no idea what her heart needed.
“Kim?”
His voice. Against all reason, Kim responded. “What?”
“Are you all right?”
Yes. No. “I have a headache. And I’m starved.”
“Kim. We need to talk.”
His simple words struck Kim like a physical blow. He was going to tell her he didn’t want to see her anymore. He was going to ask her to pretend that last night hadn’t happened. “What about?” she made herself ask.
“About what happened today. I know.” Mark raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re going to tell me to stay out of your business, but Charles has the same concerns.”
Kim couldn’t keep up with this conversation; it wasn’t what she’d been expecting. “About what?”
“About your safety. Kim, you represent danger to someone. An end to a lucrative career.”
“Because of the security system? But Mark—”
“Don’t. Just listen to me. Whoever it is knows the rug can be pulled out from under them at anytime. But someone so desperate that he or she goes on stealing even after you show up isn’t thinking clearly. That someone might believe that getting you out of the way will solve their problems.”
The tone of Mark’s voice made Kim feel cold. “Not many people knew what I was doing here before the interview at the museum. And there weren’t very many people there.”
“I know.”
Although she hadn’t given him much of a reply, Kim had nothing else to say. She’d wanted something personal from him, more than just concern for her safety. But that was all that he’d given her. She had to accept that.
“Go home, Kim,” he was telling her. “You need to take care of yourself.”
And you’re not offering to be part of that. “All right,” Kim managed. She blinked. Her eyes felt hot, dry and too big for her face.
He was touching h
er. His fingers were light on her forearm, but Kim clung to that warmth. “I want to be with you tonight,” he whispered. “I hope you believe that.”
“I…do.”
“But…” Mark debated. He couldn’t tell her the truth, but it wasn’t in him to lie, especially not to her. “I have to see your grandmother tonight. If it was anyone else—”
“My grandmother? I’ve been trying to reach her all day. We were supposed to have dinner together.”
Mark went tight inside. Danger was suddenly a word away. “I’ll remind her.”
“Don’t.” Kim worked on a smile. “It’ll just upset her.”
Kim was home before she faced the question. If Mark and her grandmother were going to be together this evening, why hadn’t she been asked to join them? The question got in the way of making a decision about what to have for dinner. Instead Kim swallowed a couple of aspirins and took refuge in the shower. Then she pulled a short lounging gown over her body. She was drying her hair when the phone rang.
It was Mark. He was with her grandmother. “Margaret has herself all worked up over what she read in the paper and has been hearing on TV. The TV’s playing it big. I’ve been trying to tell her there’s nothing for her to worry about, but I’m not doing very well. Maybe if you let her give you some grandmotherly advice—”
Kim had a better idea. She suggested that Mark bring Margaret over for a simple meal and some conversation.
In the forty-five minutes it took Mark to drive Margaret to Camp Oro and help her up the driveway, Kim dressed, opened windows and curtains, dusted, washed the breakfast dishes, ran outside for some roses to put on the table and started making hamburgers.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Margaret exclaimed as soon as the hugs were over. “You had such a busy day. I told Mark to tell you not to bother, but he insisted.”
Mark had already begun tearing up lettuce for their salad. “That isn’t all I said. Tell Kim the rest.”
Margaret ducked her head. She tried to smile but was only partially successful. “Honey, I—I let my imagination get carried away. I started thinking of all kinds of things, like you might come to work early some morning and find robbers in there. If they did anything to you—”
“Oh, Grandmother.” Concerned by her grandmother’s obvious nervousness, Kim hugged the frail woman. “You’ve been watching too many TV programs. And even if I did surprise our cat burglar—” Kim struck a kung-fu stance. “He’ll be sorry he messed with me.”
Margaret laughed. Kim had expected the exchange to release some of the tension she’d sensed in her grandmother, but the air of strain continued. Kim gave Mark a puzzled look, but he merely shook his head and gave her a warning look. “What have you been up to?” Kim tried to change the subject. “Anything exciting going on today?”
“No. No,” Margaret muttered. “I had a quiet day.”
“You did? I tried to call you.”
“Oh.” Margaret looked confused. “I might have been over at my neighbor’s. She’s all worried about her medical insurance. I was trying to explain things to her.”
Kim remembered to nod in response to the explanation, but she couldn’t manage a smile. She’d been told that her grandmother was out for the afternoon. Either the receptionist was wrong, or Margaret Revis had lied to her.
Dinner was tense. Margaret filled Kim in on her activities since the last time the two had been together, and Kim told both Mark and her grandmother about the progress she’d made in developing a plan to present to the board. But Kim felt as if they were all tiptoeing around something.
Believing she knew what it was, Kim finally brought up the subject of the town council meeting. “I read the newspaper report,” she explained. “It tells part of the story, but not everything. I wish—I suppose I shouldn’t be so impatient, but I’d like to see the council come to a decision. Especially the right one.”
Margaret nodded and tried another smile. “Be patient, dear. These things take time.”
“I know that. I just don’t like you not knowing what’s going to happen. I mean, we were all set to put the place on the market, and now this—I just can’t believe the council would consider buying you out. I mean, where are they going to come up with the money?”
“Valid question,” Mark interjected. “You’ve done more packing? I don’t remember seeing that many boxes.”
Kim told Mark that he was right. If her grandmother weren’t here, Kim might have said something about his powers of observation when she’d thought herself capable of distracting him. But tonight was for her grandmother, for being honest with the dear woman.
“So many things,” Margaret mused. “People collect so much stuff. Most of it we don’t need.”
“But it comes to mean a lot to us, doesn’t it?”
Margaret nodded. “I didn’t think so until I moved. Now my possessions— Isn’t that silly?”
Margaret would find out about the missing jet pin. Kim could remain quiet, as Mark wanted her to, and subject her grandmother to a frenzied search later or break the news gently, now. “I wasn’t going to tell you,” Kim began. “I mean, you have enough on your mind what with this cave-in business. But—there’s something missing. I’ve looked everywhere. I hope, maybe you have it.”
“What?” Margaret asked. Behind Margaret, Mark shook his head violently.
“Your jet pin. Everything else is here. I hoped maybe you had it.”
“Oh, honey,” Margaret started. She shot Mark a look but turned back toward Kim before the glance registered with the younger woman. “I haven’t thought about that in forever. I’m so sorry you put yourself out.”
“I don’t mind that. You have it, don’t you?”
“No, but don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it? Grandmother, the history behind—”
“History? Kim, the quality wasn’t that good. Jet’s supposed to be perfectly black and that piece had that little bit of white in it.”
“I know.” Mark was staring at her. Kim tried to ignore him. “But it meant so much to you.”
“It was such a morbid custom, wearing jewelry to let everyone know you were in mourning.”
“You didn’t used to think that way.” Kim was confused. She’d been so sure that her grandmother would be upset. She was, but what she was saying— “I’ll look some more,” Kim offered weakly.
Margaret sank deeper into her chair. “I can’t remember the last time I saw it. Years maybe. Honey—” She turned toward Mark.
Mark’s voice was without warmth. “Let it go, Kim. It isn’t important.” Before she could say anything, Mark changed the subject. For several minutes Kim listened to him talk about an upcoming trial.
Finally, though, she’d had enough. She didn’t mind Mark taking control of the conversation, but he was trying to take them from things that needed to be said. Margaret didn’t want to talk about the jewelry. All right. Kim would honor that.
But she’d invited her grandmother here because Kim didn’t want Margaret to be concerned with her safety. Margaret was still pale, still nervous. Kim wanted to try to set her grandmother’s mind at ease. As smoothly as possible, Kim turned the conversation back to her reason for being in Camp Oro. “Charles has asked for my help. I feel like a private detective,” she explained as she began clearing the table. “The problem is, on those TV detective programs, they know what they’re looking for. I probably wouldn’t know a clue if I tripped over one. All I know—” Kim almost said something about William’s quick anger but thought better of it. “Rogan’s so stodgy. He goes at his own pace and nothing I say or do hurries him along. His wife—have you met her?”
“That’s one worthless woman.” Margaret’s tone left no question of how she felt about Charmaine Coffers. “I’ve seen her name on more committees than I care to think about. Her father was the mayor of Grass Valley for forever. You should remember him, but maybe he wasn’t that important to you. He made a ton of money, and Charmaine never l
ets anyone forget it. People can be so gullible. She’s always being asked to back some cause or another simply because she represents what passes for society in this part of the state. But to get a lick of work out of her—forget it.”
Mark and Kim both laughed. Their eyes met and for a second Kim believed that things were right between them. Mark pointed out that with Charmaine’s expensive tastes it was lucky her father had lots of money.
“I have no idea what Charmaine sees in Rogan, other than the fact that his family was wealthy enough to associate with hers,” Margaret observed. “Then, maybe I don’t want to know. You said Charles has asked you to help with the investigation. Do you think that’s wise?”
Kim gave her grandmother a warm smile. “It makes sense. After all, I’m there a lot. Don’t worry,” Kim went on when Margaret’s expression turned serious. “I’m never there after hours, and Mark has already warned me not to be alone with anyone. He’s doing enough worrying for the two of you. Not that any of it is necessary.”
“You feel safe there?” Margaret asked. “Completely safe?”
Kim didn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell her grandmother that. “It’s a three-ring circus. People all over the place.”
“Really?”
“Really.” Kim stopped working long enough to give her grandmother a hug. “You know what a set of lungs I have. One holler and I’d have everyone in the place on the run.”
Margaret smiled, a real smile this time. “I’m so glad you invited us here tonight, honey. This is wonderful.”
Kim sat down next to her grandmother. Dishes could wait. Moments like this were precious. “Charles is just a yell away, not that I’m going to need him. I’m so glad you were able to come. When I couldn’t get a hold of you today… Oh? What did you think of our little hole? This is the first time you’ve seen it, isn’t it?”
“Our little hole? The cave-in?”
The tension was back again. Once again Kim was looking into the eyes of an uneasy woman. This time she was certain she understood. “I hope you’ll tell me something,” Kim began gently. “I didn’t ask what it cost you to move into the manor because you’d probably tell me to mind my own business. But you need the money from the sale of the house, don’t you?”
