by Lynn Cahoon
I nodded, but quickly added, “I think there’s been a mistake. I’m not here to pick up his things. Actually, I’m Jill Gardner, the business consultant for South Cove’s council. I worked with Ted on the placements he made recently in our community.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at the young girl, who shrugged. “I figured she was the person who called earlier.”
“Alice means well,” the older woman said to me as if the girl wasn’t sitting three feet away from us. “She just makes assumptions.”
I smiled at Alice, silently thanking her for leaving me alone to rifle through Ted’s things. I might have found a clue because of her mistake. “No worries.” I held out my hand. “We haven’t been introduced. I take it you’re the new program director?”
The woman laughed. “New, old, just depends on your perspective. Bakerstown was my assignment before Ted came and replaced me. I got moved into the city. I have to say, I’m glad I’m back home.” She shook my hand. “Candy Peterson. I’ve heard good things about you from all the South Cove placements, especially Sasha.”
“She’s a sweet girl.” I glanced around the lobby. “Seems quiet for a Monday. Don’t people look for work at the first of the week?”
“We’re in between sessions. In fact, the South Cove group is our last one until January rolls in. Of course, all of our participants, past and current, are welcome to use the facility, but it’s hard to get them to come in, especially when they can search the web at home without driving or walking someplace to do it.”
“What kind of placement rate do you have?” I’d worked with a program in the city as part of my community service work required of first-year hires in my office. I’d wanted to stay on, but making billable hours for the partners became more and more difficult, especially with the family law I enjoyed practicing. Something had to give, and since I was still trying to keep my failing marriage alive, charity work fell off my to-do list.
“For the last three years, it’s been one hundred percent placement rate.” She paused, waiting for a reaction.
My eyes widened. “That’s amazing. I worked with a center a few years ago and they typically never made it past sixty.”
“Most centers average sixty to seventy, depending on the location.” She threw a dark look to the box. “Let’s just say I’m hesitant to stand behind the validity of our numbers.”
Matt had told Darla that Ted had been playing with the placements for his personal gain. Could he also have been fudging the numbers? He seemed like the type who would want to win at all costs. I pointedly viewed my watch. “I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time. I hope the next time you’re in South Cove you stop by and have a cup of coffee on me. We can talk more.”
Candy walked me to the door. “I’m planning on visiting the placement sites next week, just to clean up the files a bit. I’ll be sure to stop by.”
I paused. “Who’s coming for Ted’s things? I didn’t think his family had arrived.” Actually, I didn’t think his family was even coming.
“I’m not sure. Alice said it was an older woman who called, but I think anyone over twenty-five, she considers ancient.” She straightened the open sign on the door. “I feel bad that I’m benefiting from such a tragedy. Who knew Ted had such deep feelings that he could have been drawn to this end? Between you and me, I always thought he didn’t have it in him. Ted was not someone with real emotions.”
“He did have strong opinions.” I paused, my hand on the door handle. “Thank you for making the transition so easy. I look forward to working with you on this placement and maybe others.”
Candy acted like I’d promised her the cake batter bowl. “I’ll bring some pamphlets when I come by next week.”
We said our good-byes, and I wondered about how upset Candy had been to be transferred out of an assignment she considered home. As I turned the Jeep out of the Work Today parking lot, a dark Lincoln Town Car turned into the lot. I’d almost talked myself out of listing Candy as a suspect when I’d arrived in front of the children’s center. Someone had painted a mural of sea animals cavorting in the ocean that covered the entire south side of the building. It was beautiful and a bit disturbing at the same time. The deep blue of the ocean scene made me dizzy as I stared into the fake depths.
I located the front door and slipped into the ice cool of the air-conditioned building. The sounds of the fans echoed through the open foyer, lined with tiny lockers, all with combination locks built into the doors. The lockers had been painted primary colors and seemed to be set in sections of red, blue, and yellow.
I heard noises down the hall, and when I walked into the main room, I noticed the same division of colors in the carpet. The large gym had been painted the three colors too, and now I could see that blue held infants; yellow, the toddlers; and finally red were the older children almost ready to be sent off to public school.
A woman sat at a metal desk to the left of the door. “May I help you?” she asked, without much enthusiasm.
I pulled out a bundle of children’s books I’d pulled from the store’s shelves as an introductory gift and handed them to the receptionist. “I’m here to help you. One of your customers, Sasha Smith, has a child here. She’s temping at our store for the season, and we’d like to run a book drive for your center.”
The woman stood, her energy level changing immediately. “Let me get you to Diane. She’s the program manager. I’m sure they’d love to have you sponsor.” She held on to the small pile of books like it was a check for an unspeakable value. “Come with me.”
She led me through the blue area to a small office in the wall, a window looking out into the larger room. I could see a woman at the desk who was on the phone, but when she heard the knock, she waved us in and quickly terminated the call.
The woman appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, but she stood and held out her hand. “I’m Diane Jenson, I take it you’re here to enroll your child?”
My head snapped back in unconcealed horror. “Uh, no. I don’t have kids.” I almost added “yet,” but that would have been looking into a future that might or might not happen.
The receptionist bubbled, “She’s Sasha’s new boss. They want to run a book drive for us.” She gently set the books on the worn wooden desk in front of her manager. “Isn’t that wonderful news?”
Diane leafed through the books I’d carefully chosen off the shelf, tapping her finger on one before she moved on. “These are lovely. Thank you for the donation.”
“I don’t think you understand. We’re doing a holiday drive at Coffee, Books, and More in South Cove. Those are just the books I brought you today. We haven’t even started collecting yet.” I rushed to explain our plan. I handed her mine and Jackie’s business cards ending with, “My aunt is the force behind this project. She’ll be in touch, but I wanted to stop in and get your blessing before we started advertising.”
“How nice. Many of our children don’t have access to books at home.” She sighed, looking out the window. “I suspect some of the kids are actually on the street when they leave here. Story time is the most popular time of day. Could I give you a wish list from the staff?”
“We thought you might want input.” I tapped Jackie’s card. “You can call my aunt or just fax over a list when you get one together. We’ll make certain your Santa list is filled.” I’d order the books myself, even if we didn’t get donations. I had a bit of money set aside I liked to call the Miss Emily Fund. This would be a perfect use of some of my inheritance from my old friend.
Diane forced a tired smile and offered me a tour of the facility. Glancing at my watch for real this time, I reluctantly begged off. If I was going to get anything done today, I needed to get moving. Leaving the center, I blessed my parents for instilling a love of books in me. When my day wasn’t going as planned, or life just continued to kick me in the gut, I knew I could escape into a world where happily-ever-afters were a given and problems were overcome. One of my patron
s loved her true crime stories. I’d read one, the Ted Bundy story, and swore the genre off my reading list. I knew evil existed in the real world; I didn’t want to be reminded as I read for pleasure.
A longer-than-expected trip to the grocery store and finally I was back on the road to South Cove. I’d had to trade my leisurely lunch at the new café for a drive-through bag. Munching on the fries as I steered my Jeep down the coastal highway, glimpsing the ocean at times, low mountains at others, I felt content. Everything would work out. Jackie and Josh would stop sniping, Greg would find Ted’s killer, and the store would get so many donations for books, we’d be able to gift each child their own small library. Hope sprang eternal for about three minutes until I arrived back at the house to an unexpected visitor.
Jackie sat on my porch, tapping her Jimmy Choo heels when I arrived at the house. I waved as I climbed out of the Jeep, opening the back hatch and grabbing an armload of grocery sacks.
When I reached the porch, she took my keys from my hand and unlocked the door. As she power walked into the kitchen, she waved at the sacks. “Put those down and go get the rest. I’ll start putting things away.”
“Thanks.” I set my purse down and hurried to grab the final few sacks. I’d bring in the soda later, not wanting my aunt to see how many twelve-packs I’d bought. The stuff had been on a crazy good sale, so I’d have drinks covered for weeks, maybe months.
By the time I’d brought the final load sans most of the soda into the kitchen, Jackie had everything else put away. She glanced into the remaining sack. “You should shop at a warehouse store. We could save a lot of money by buying in bulk and sharing the cost.”
I hadn’t thought of that. I’d been tempted to get the store a membership, but my suppliers were all local and loyal and I didn’t want to cut their deliveries. And just buying for me and the occasional Greg’s dinner visit, didn’t warrant a lot of groceries. I’d always seen warehouse stores as being more effective for people with big families. But maybe I could get Amy into the buying club, as well.
“That’s a great idea.” I grabbed a soda out of the fridge and sat at the table. Jackie had already started a pot of coffee in between unloading sacks. The woman was an efficiency machine. “Come sit down. I want to tell you about visiting the center.”
My aunt sank into a chair and groaned while looking at the oversized clock on the wall. “I knew I was forgetting something. I never got to the printers.”
“Oh, I thought that was why you were here.” I took in my aunt’s appearance. She wore her usual suit and heels, but the buttons on the jacket were off-kilter, and glancing at her face, I saw she’d put eye shadow on one side, but not the other. Not the typical polished Jackie look. “Are you okay? You look … off.”
She gave me a look that if I’d taken it seriously, would have frozen me in my chair. “I don’t know what you mean.”
I dug in my purse. “Well, for one thing, your jacket is buttoned wrong.”
Jackie glanced down and straightened her buttons, letting out a short sigh as she did. “I’m perfectly fine. I just got dressed in a hurry this morning.”
I found my compact, a holdout so I could at least pretend I wore makeup most days. I flipped the small circle open and dusted off the mirror before I handed it to her. “Check your eyes.”
“They aren’t red, are they?” Jackie glanced at one, then the other, and when she turned back toward me, I knew she hadn’t even seen what was missing.
“Why would they be red? Have you been crying?”
Jackie shook her head quickly, a little too quickly in my opinion.
I nodded to the mirror. “Look again, you see something missing?”
She frowned but then checked a second time, horror filling her face. “Oh. My. God. And I’ve been out and about for hours like this. Why didn’t someone tell me I’d forgotten an entire eye?” She pulled out a small makeup bag from her purse with a mini mascara, eyeliner, and shadow. She set out her lipstick, as well. “Might as well refresh everything.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” I leaned back and watched her correct her glamour mistake from that morning.
She ignored me, focusing on the compact. “Are you telling me this is the only makeup you carry with you?”
“Heavens, no.” I grinned as my aunt’s face filled with relief. “I also have a tube of cherry ChapStick at all times.”
She groaned as she finished up with her corrections. “I taught you better than that. No wonder Greg hasn’t taken the next step and put a ring on that finger. You’re not trying hard enough.”
I sipped my soda, feeling pleasure at the slight burn as the cola slipped down my throat. “No, you’re wrong. I’m not trying at all. If Greg and I do take this to the next level, it’s because he loves me, not some ideal version of me.”
Jackie tucked the makeup away into her case and handed me the compact. “Studies show that women who wear makeup are more confident than women who don’t. It’s not a matter of showing an unreal persona. It’s showing your best version.”
“Can we just disagree and you can tell me what’s bothering you?” I ignored the compact on the table.
She stood and poured herself a cup of coffee. Her head turned away, and she sighed. “That man. He left me a card.”
“Josh, you mean.” I didn’t want to say I knew about the card and get a lecture about taking his side in this fight.
She didn’t turn around, just stood at the counter after putting the pot back on the coffeemaker. “He says he loves me.”
I was stunned. I knew Josh had it bad for my aunt, but I’d never considered them a real couple. I didn’t know what to say, so I went with the obvious. “Do you love him?”
She came back to the table and sipped her coffee before she answered. “The man is infuriating. I don’t know how I feel, except I’m mad at him most of the time. If he’s not insulting you or the shop, he’s complaining about the town. Seriously, I have no idea why he even moved here, except his profits are three times higher here than in the city.”
“So you don’t love him,” I prodded.
She didn’t meet my eyes. “Honestly, Jill, I don’t know.” She glanced at the clock again and stood, taking one last sip of coffee before dumping most of the contents down the drain. “I’ve got to run if I’m going to make it to the printers before they close. We’ll talk Wednesday. I’m going to stay in the city tonight and relax.”
“Shopping?” I grinned. Usually “relax” was her code word for “I need a Michael Kors fix.” This time my aunt shook her head.
“I don’t think so. The stores will be packed with holiday shoppers. There’s a movie I want to see and I might walk through the museum. I’ll be at the hotel if you need me.” She air-kissed me and reached down to pet Emma, who adored my aunt.
And then she was gone. I turned my attention back to my to-do list, crossing off the things I’d completed and adding things I’d forgotten. As I was putting the compact back into my purse, my hand brushed against the folded paper from Ted’s picture frame.
I pulled it out and saw it was a bill from a company named Elite Investigations in the amount of two thousand dollars. The one-word descriptor for services made my heartbeat speed up: retainer. Ted had hired a private investigator. When? I wondered. I checked the date of the bill. Exactly three years ago, before he’d moved west. But the office listed on the top of the page was San Francisco. Elite Investigations was the same company that my law firm had on retainer for the less-than-clean research that needed to be done at times.
Definitely a clue. One that seemed to suggest that Ted had tracked his missing wife down to California before he’d left his comfortable surroundings in Boston for the sunny coast. But was it enough? I wondered who had worked his account. I grabbed my old day planner from my law career out of the desk drawer in my office. I paged through until I’d found the name, Rachel at Elite. I dialed the number. While the phone was ringing, I brought up my e-mail, looking to
see if the alumni contact had responded. Nothing.
Rachel wasn’t in so I left a long voice mail, hoping she’d actually talk to me, especially since the client was deceased. I’d give the note to Greg and let him pursue the lead if Rachel gave me the privilege spiel. You should give the note to Greg anyway, the angel on my shoulder nudged. I would—I will, I corrected myself. It might be a total dead end. Besides, I’d already let him know about my suspicions about Marie, it wasn’t my fault this information had just fallen into my lap.
I could almost hear the sigh from my good side. I ignored it.
CHAPTER 10
By the time I’d turned down the sheets and crawled into bed with a book, I still hadn’t heard from Rachel. The good news was I hadn’t heard from Greg, either. I could go to sleep with a clear conscience, knowing I hadn’t lied to him even by omission. Of course, I had stolen a piece of evidence from Ted’s belongings, but apparently the police had already been in his office and had considered the box clear to hand off to family. Greg would thank me for allowing the paper to slip into my hand and then into my purse. The little bit of guilt I did feel didn’t keep me from getting engrossed in the second book of the young adult series I’d started last week. I could get accustomed to the fast-paced and fun stories.
I woke early Tuesday, running with Emma on the beach before going in to the shop to open. This was my long day as I worked mine and Jackie’s shifts, with Toby spelling me in the middle. I remembered halfway through my shower, Tina Baylor was coming over to discuss festival ideas with me. Oh joy. At ten that morning, I’d be stuck playing nice with the mayor’s wife..
My first customers were the daily commuters who stopped by on their way into the city. Some even dropped off the highway on their way from Bakerstown to the city to make a special trip to my shop, even though they passed at least one chain coffee shop on their trip. I’d talked to Jackie about making up cards that gave a free dessert for every ten cups of coffee, but she told me we’d implement that after the first of the year when sales dropped off. Give the people trying to save money an incentive for stopping in to get their morning jolt.
