Arrest of the Heart

by Judy Kentrus

  The sound of a car coming down the driveway alerted them they were no longer alone.

  “Oh, no! My mother! She can’t find us like this!” Jess rolled away from Linc and jumped out of bed.

  He laughed at her frantic antics, and casually followed Jessie into the bathroom. “We’re not teenagers who have to sneak around, but consenting adults.” Linc noticed his clothes were soaking wet from when they created the sloshing waves during their lovemaking. Luckily, Jessie had draped her clothes over the sink.

  “That’s easy for you to say,” she muttered, stepping hurriedly into her sheer bikinis and ignored her bra. “I have to live with that woman. She’s been conspiring to keep us apart the past week. She had the chief put me on days permanently, she’s home for dinner every night, and works evenings from her home office.”

  “I figured as much.” Linc went back into the bedroom for a pair of jeans and sweater, when Jessie hot-footed out of the bathroom. Her hands were busy gathering her damp hair into a pony tail.

  “Have you got a deck of cards?” she asked, rushing into the kitchen. Before he could answer, she blurted, “Never mind,” and ran over to the drawer next to the sink that contained a few cooking utensils and unearthed a used deck of playing cards. She ripped off the rubber band and slammed the deck on the table. “Sit down. Pretend we’re playing cards and having a snack.” She grabbed two jelly glasses with pictures of Wiley Coyote and Road Runner from the cabinet and hurried to the refrigerator to get the milk. She’d just poured their drinks when she spied the container of brownies Julie had sent and helped herself. “Hmm, so good,” she mumbled over a mouth full of chocolate decadence. “I need this recipe.”

  The scene that said “we weren’t doing anything wrong or fooling around” was set before there was a knock at the door. Linc glanced at Jess and laughed. Brownie crumbs were caught in the corner of her mouth and it took all his willpower not to reach across the table and lick her lips clean.

  “Stop laughing,” she said, dealing the cards with shaking hands. She suddenly stopped and looked at him with a horrified expression on her face. “Do we look like we just had sex?”

  “No,” he lied, trying to contain his hilarity over the entire situation. The apartment smelled from the scent of seductive candles, and he hadn’t diminished the love songs app on his iPad. Linc decided to ease her embarrassment and quickly closed the bathroom and bedrooms doors before he greeted their watchdog.

  “Margaret,” he said, trying to keep a straight face. “We’re having a platonic game of cards and a snack. Can I interest you in a glass of milk and a brownie? Take my chair.”

  Margaret still had on the clothes she’d worn to church and wanted nothing more than to relax with a glass of wine. She’d never been so tired and worried. The town was facing insurmountable problems, she was upset over the murder of a friend, and now she had to deal with the developing relationship between her daughter and scallywag tenant. She studied the two “adults” who thought she was clueless as to how they’d spent the afternoon. Margaret sniffed the flowery scent and took in the closed bedroom door. The proverbial phrase, “while the cats away the mice will play,” fit them to a tee. She’d known all along where their relationship was heading and tried to delay the inevitable for as long as possible. Neither was aware of the secrets they were each keeping, damaging secrets that could destroy their budding relationship.

  “No, thank you. I just wanted to let you know I was home. Where’s Edie?”

  “Having dinner with Peter’s family. They should be bringing her home soon.” Jess took another bite of brownie and a drink of milk. She had a hard time swallowing past the lump in her throat.

  Margaret eyed the playing cards and decided to have some fun. “What were you playing?”

  “Gin rummy,” Jessie quickly responded.

  “Seven card stud,” Linc answered at the same time.

  Margaret bit the inside of her cheek. “You two should have gotten your story straight.” She raised a knowing brow. “Now, which is it?”

  “Seven card stud,” Jess answered.

  “Gin rummy,” Linc blurted.

  The judge shook her head. “The next time you two decide to play house, talk to a couple of teenagers who are proficient at pulling the wool over their parents’ eyes.”

  Jess and Linc looked at each other, but didn’t say a word. All their hurried plans were for naught.

  “On a serious note,” Margaret continued, “the town council had an emergency meeting.” She stared directly at Lincoln. “As of this afternoon, I am the temporary mayor of Laurel Heights and have the deciding vote on all decisions. I would appreciate you meeting with me next week to discuss your inheritance.”

  Lincoln tried not to wince when Margaret emphasized the words “deciding vote.” “There are things I’d like to discuss with you too, as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning I have to meet with Detective Catcher to give a statement about my part in discovering the mayor’s body. I could meet with you after that.”

  “No, I will be in court all day tomorrow. Call my office.” Margaret glanced at the almost empty container of brownies. “If you two are still hungry, I’ll be grilling steaks and Portobello mushrooms for dinner.” Her Honor was half way out the door, but turned back to her daughter. “And, Jess, you have your dress on inside out.”

  Chapter 14

  Linc set his second cup of coffee next to his laptop on the table. He’d just sent an email message to Margaret. “Yesterday you advised I should call your office, but I’m sending this email instead. We can no longer keep this from the chief. Plan to meet tomorrow afternoon at the Spoonful, around four. I respect that you’ve wanted to keep this from Jessie, but you’re wrong. If you don’t tell her what is going on, I will. That is not a threat, but a promise. Linc.” Doing things her way was no longer an option.

  He needed to take care of a personal matter before contacting his office and heading into police headquarters. “Did I wake you?” Linc teased, when Julie answered the phone.

  “You’re kidding, right? Josh and Anna are teething and have decided I don’t need any sleep. They caved an hour ago, but I have to get Billy and the girls off to school. How’s my favorite bodyguard?”

  “Surviving. I found out from Samantha Kingsley that Danni and Michael are the proud parents of a little boy.”

  “Mathew is so adorable and looks just like Michael. Danni came home yesterday and is tired, but very happy. Samantha and I keep in touch and share recipes. When you brought her to the Long and Barrows’ holiday party, I thought there might be a little hanky panky between you, but she assured me you’re just very good friends. Speaking of hanky panky, how are things going with your lady love?”

  “Making progress,” a great deal of progress. “I need a favor. I’d like to send a gift to Danni and Michael. You’re more familiar with baby items. Cost is no object.”

  “No problem. I’m meeting Alexis later in the morning. We’re treating ourselves to pedicures, and then it’s off to Victoria’s Secret.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Didn’t Scott or Russell tell you? We’ll be joining you guys for the weekend. Mrs. Clooney, our housekeeper, and my parents will be taking care of the twins. Russell’s parents and Marie and Patrick will be watching the triplets.”

  “What about Trouble and Double Trouble?”

  “Did you actually think we would be able to leave them home?”

  Linc ran his hand across his early morning beard, already anticipating what trouble they might cause. “Good enough. Thanks for taking care of the gift. Have Scott give me a call when he has a chance. Before I forget, can you bring me another batch of brownies?”

  “Absolutely!”

  Next, he called Cynthia, his assistant. He’d never forget the day he ran into, or rather she ran into him. She was coming out and he was entering the coffee shop on the first floor of the building where his main headquarters of Adams Security and Investigations was located in M
anhattan. The personnel ad he’d run for an administrative assistant hadn’t warranted a suitable candidate. He needed someone who would be able to work on their own, be available after normal business hours, willing to travel, and most importantly, understood the meaning of the word confidential.

  Cindi Pearl was carrying a hot mocha latte in one hand and talking on her cell phone with the other. She was telling someone in a decisive tone that she was quitting without giving them the courtesy of two weeks’ notice. Cheating clients by telling half truths went against her principals. She ended the call by telling the person to take their job and shove it. Tears were running down her cheeks and she plowed straight into Linc. The lid popped off and hot liquid splattered his white dress shirt and silver gray sports jacket. She’d cried even harder and blubbered “I’m sorry,” over and over. Linc had felt sorry for her and guided Cindi over to an alcove with padded leather seats. After getting her calmed down, she blurted out her story. She was twenty-three, had an Associate’s degree in Business Management and had just dumped her freeloader boyfriend. Her favorite foods were eggplant parmesan and chocolate chip cookies, and she considered herself a klutz. She volunteered at a senior citizen’s home and loved Soap Box Derby racing. Linc had been captivated by her openness and charming personality, and decided they would make a good fit. He hired her on the spot, naming an outrageous salary, and he never regretted the decision he’d made nine years ago.

  He Skyped the call, wanting to make the connection more personal.

  “Morning, boss,” she greeted with a sunny smile. As usual, she wore something purple, her favorite color. She’d recently added highlights to her straight blond hair that barely swept her shoulders.

  “Morning, Cindi.” Linc frowned. “What is that on your chin and the side of your nose?”

  She put a hand to the curve of her jaw and cheek. “That’s white paint,” she laughed. “I was helping refurbish wooden chairs at the senior center Sunday afternoon. Guess I didn’t get it all off. The kids loved their shirts and the prizes you donated for the Soap Box Derby we had on Saturday.”

  “I was happy to do it. I see the bump on your forehead is almost gone.”

  “Yeah, it’s better. The old folks at the center will never let me live that down, walking into a screen door three times.” Cindi sighed deeply. “When are you returning to the office?”

  “That’s a question I can’t answer.”

  “Just so you know, you’re missed. What can I do for you?”

  “I need you to call Jeff Wayne, the principal of the Laurel Heights Elementary school. Use one of our alias accounts. Let him know that an anonymous donor wants to purchase shirts for the entire school and staff for their fishing derby and anti-bullying campaign. Their slogan is “Bullies Never Win. Walk Proud.” The gift includes a custom made banner advertising the event. Jeff is to e-mail the order directly to Star Design. Once the company confirms receipt of the order, overnight the check. With the derby only three weeks away, we’ll pay extra to expedite the order.”

  “That is a really great slogan. You are quite the philanthropist. I know, you don’t want anyone to know what a kind and generous guy you are. Oh, when you see Sam, tell her I loved the chocolate chip cookies. Hurry back, boss.”

  Linc didn’t want to think about what Cindi had said, “You are quite the philanthropist.” No, he wasn’t his grandfather.

  His next call was to Marie Kelly’s thirty-three year-old sons, Connor and Brandon, who had their own HVAC business and was also skilled carpenters. Linc offered them the job to rebuild the gazebo bandstand. Supplies could be acquired from Northrup Whipper’s lumber and hardware store, where an account would be established in their company’s name. He would speak to Northrup about taking out the building permits. If anyone asked, they were working for Northrup Whipper. Linc needed the job done ASAP. The twins couldn’t spare any of their crew, due to numerous ongoing jobs, but would see to it personally, and understood they were to deny any and all association with Lincoln Adams.

  Linc had barely ended the call when his cell phone rang. It was Logan.

  “I got your message. Reggie and I are in his private dungeon, so you can talk without anyone overhearing our conversation. You’re on speaker phone.”

  “Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I reviewed the background and financial information on the members of the town council. Check to see when the town last had a full financial audit. There’s a possibility of embezzlement. You already know the mayor has been murdered, but take a closer look at his financial history. Between us, he was a cross dresser. See if he had any special friends he might have pissed off or was paying out blackmail. Dig deeper into the background of Sergeant Taylor’s former husband. Sayers is dirty.” Linc sighed deeply. “I appreciate all you’re doing, both of you.”

  “Do you have any idea when you will be returning to the office?” Logan asked.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Cindi. I really don’t know. Get back to me as soon as you can with your additional research.”

  When there was still no response from the judge, Linc decided to head over to the hardware store to see Northrup and fill him in on his plans to repair the gazebo. Linc walked down the steps, and the sound of a buzz saw drew his attention to Lisa Kay’s house. A ladder was propped against the side of the two-story Victorian and Sam Morlock was sawing two by fours. He wasn’t alone. Abbie Lincoln and Xavier Cugat were sitting on the porch by the back door, watching the carpenter’s every move.

  “I could say, ‘look what the cats dragged in,’ but your buddies might object to the insult,” Linc said. The longtime friends shook hands.

  “When I saw Samantha, I figured you couldn’t be far behind. I was having lunch with Lisa Kay at the Spoonful and overheard the guy in the next booth talking about Buford Adams’ grandson. Lisa Kay waited until we were outside and explained who you were. I played dumb, and no, I didn’t mention you and I are friends.”

  “Appreciate it. We need to talk,” Linc said.

  “I can take a break.” Sam removed the sweat band from about his head and set it next to the bottle of water on his metal portable work bench. “There’s some dry rot on the support lumber holding the gutters. Lisa Kay wanted me to replace one length, but the job is more involved.”

  “Come over to my temporary quarters and you can tell me what the hell a retired ATF agent, who has money to burn, is doing working as a carpenter.”

  They sat around Linc’s small kitchen table with cups of coffee. “Nice digs,” Sam pursed his lips. “Do they know this entire apartment can fit in your living room?”

  “It takes some getting use to,” Linc chuckled, keeping it to himself that he’d lived here for three months as a teenager. At the time, he thought of the apartment as his own personal castle.

  “You know my family has been in railroading since the early nineteen hundreds, and I don’t like to see the railroad being used to transport illegal goods. Treig Taylor and Nate Haines contacted me ten months ago and explained the situation. Even though I’m retired, I do consulting work from time to time. Carpentry has always been my hobby. I’ve been following a designated line, working near train depots with warehouse and shipping operations, looking for illegal activity involving alcohol and cigarettes. Laurel Heights was my next stop.”

  “Have you found any black-market action?”

  “Not yet. I’m trying to keep a low profile. My work on the old train depot is for real. Everyone thinks I’m working for Northrup, and he’s hired a few locals to help me. I purchased the building and the three brick warehouses, plus the one that stands alone on the other side of the road. Two buildings will be leased as condos. I plan to preserve the third one as a museum on the history of railroading. Northrup runs excursions using the old Baldwin steam engine, so that will fit in with my plans.”

  “That’s a big undertaking,” Linc commented. He had been tossing around an expansion idea that could become a reality.

  “I
know, but I’ve got unlimited financial resources. I’ve already spoken to Scott and Russell about drawing up blueprints. Once my part of the investigation is over, I plan to make Laurel Heights my home. Hopefully, I can convince a very special lady to spend the rest of her life with me. I didn’t think there was a woman out there who would see me for who I am and likes bats.”

  Sam wrapped his callused hands around the cup. “The other night, Lisa Kay and I checked out the church basement to make sure all of the bats had returned to the darkness. Two little critters didn’t make it. She cradled them in her hands and insisted we bury them. Now, that’s what I call a woman. She’s my soul mate. I’ve already got my eye on a house on the lake very close to the Long’s seasonal home.”

  “You certainly haven’t wasted any time. Lisa Kay is a very special woman. As for what I’m doing in Laurel Heights, that’s a long story. Please keep it to yourself that I’m the owner of Adams Security and Investigations. On a personal note, what are your plans for the stand alone warehouse?”

  “Renovate it for commercial use. Why?”

  “I was thinking of opening a division of Adams Security, focusing on custom design and installation of security systems that includes twenty-four seven monitoring. The renovations would have to meet our technical specifications. I’d utilize the entire building and the surrounding acreage.”

  “How about I sell you the building and property dirt cheap, and you can foot the bill to have it designed to meet your high-tech requirements.”

  Linc held out his hand. “Deal.”

  Just before noon, he met with Detective Catcher. The veteran police officer was pleasant, but all business. Linc hoped to see Jessie, but the town-owned boathouse on the lake had been vandalized, and she was assisting the patrolmen on scene. He called the hardware store to speak to Northrup, but was told the owner was at the Spoonful. Linc entered through the rear door and found Sam sitting at a small table, flipping through an old recipe book.