Funny Money

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Funny Money Page 9

by Traci DePree

“Like wrinkled and, I don’t know, over forty? I’m not good at guessing that kind of thing.”

  Kate almost laughed but kept going. “What did the Secret Service say when you told them that?”

  “Nothin’. They mostly took notes and acted like I was a liar.” Another customer came to her checkout lane, and she hesitated before saying, “Was there anything else?”

  Kate said, “No. This has been extremely helpful.”

  They excused themselves and went outside, where the heat had not abated. Neither had the questions.

  KATE WALKED LIVVY to the library, where she’d left her car, then drove to her quiet house. Paul was at a community ministerial meeting for the evening, so she got supper going for herself. She wasn’t particularly hungry, so she grabbed bread and deli meat for a sandwich. As she spread mayonnaise on a slice, her mind twisted in thought.

  Two men and a woman? If there was more than one accomplice, why hadn’t the Secret Service arrested anyone else? Amy didn’t fit the description—at least not as to the age, though she did have blue eyes and long brown hair.

  She picked up the phone to dial Amy in hopes that Tim’s lawyer had some new information, but there was no answer. She hung up before the answering machine finished its greeting.

  Cutting her sandwich in half, she took a bite. Then, picking up the phone again, she dialed the deputy’s office, hoping Skip Spencer was still on duty.

  The officer answered on the third ring. “Deputy Spencer.”

  “Skip,” Kate began.

  “Mrs. Hanlon,” he said in his friendly tone.

  “Has Tim Lourdes had any visitors other than Amy and Jake?”

  “Not besides the two of them and you and Mr. Hanlon. And his lawyer, of course.”

  There was the sound of voices in the background then, and Skip talking to whoever it was.

  The next voice Kate heard was that of Secret Service Agent Norris, the blond Tom Cruise she’d run into several times.

  “Mrs. Hanlon?” he said into the phone. “Please be clear that this is a federal matter.”

  “Uh,” Kate began, “yes, sir.”

  “Our ongoing investigation is none of your concern. Do you understand that? We will share all of our findings with Mr. Lourdes’ attorney.”

  Then the agent hung up on her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kate stared at the phone as shock settled over her. She knew the man had a job to do, and yet a sense of injustice tugged at her. She’d merely asked if Tim had visitors; how had that impeded his investigation?

  “Father,” a prayer welled up in her, “am I doing the right thing? Or am I being played for a fool?”

  Isaiah 1:17 pressed itself into her thoughts, so she rose to look up the verse, though she thought that she already knew what it said. Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the cause of orphans. Fight for the rights of widows.

  She inhaled and lifted her face to the ceiling. As much as Amy and Tim had asked for her help, she felt strongly that God had asked this of her. He was in charge of the outcome. It was simply her task to follow his lead.

  He would point her to the truth, whatever that was. Whoever had committed the crime, God knew his, or her, name.

  WHEN KATE SAW AMY LOURDES the next morning, the young woman was just getting into her car, a faded yellow subcompact that had spots of rust emerging on its hood.

  “Oh, Kate,” Amy said, “I was going to call you. I saw your number on caller ID last night. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. I was meeting with Tim’s lawyer.”

  “What did he say?” Kate came up alongside her and noticed Jake seated in the passenger’s seat and fidgeting with the knobs on the radio.

  “Other than that they’re looking for accomplices, not much.” She lifted her eyes to Kate, fear in the lines of her face. “Just that he isn’t real hopeful about Tim’s case.”

  Amy was looking at her watch, and for the first time Kate realized the young mother was dressed up.

  “Were you headed somewhere?” Kate asked.

  “Doctor’s visit for Jake—just a follow-up. And then a job interview for me.”

  “A job interview? Where?”

  “It’s at the Hamilton Springs Hotel. And honestly, I don’t know how I’ll manage while still homeschooling Jake, but things are just too tight financially for me to see any other options. From the way the lawyer talked last night, it’s going to be a long time before Tim’s case even goes to trial, and we’ll lose everything if I don’t do something.” She paused and added, “Thank you, by the way, for paying the electric bill.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I have my sources.” She smiled, and Kate could see that she was deeply moved by the gesture.

  “Would you like me to watch Jake for you? During your interview?”

  “Thank you.” Amy shook her head. “Another time, maybe.” She paused, offering a smile to her son. “You’ll be a good boy, won’t you?”

  Jake nodded and smiled at his mother.

  “If I don’t get the job today, I’ll call.” She put on a smile, obviously trying to be brave.

  “Let me know how it goes, okay?” Kate asked.

  Amy nodded and backed out of the driveway.

  BETTY’S BEAUTY PARLOR was where many of the women in Copper Mill went to have their hair done. Kate was no exception. She made her way to the small downtown storefront and took a seat on the bench in the waiting area. Betty lifted her bleached-blonde head and waved at her from her station in front of the wall of mirrors. Alicia and Ronda, the two other stylists, chatted with their clients.

  The shop was early 1960s vintage, with padded benches and salmon-colored adjustable vinyl chairs. The floor was a white-and-aqua checkerboard, and posters of blonde Doris Day wannabes hung on the walls, their backgrounds faded to a pale puce color. The scent of perm solution hung in the air.

  Kate paged through a fashion magazine, though her thoughts were elsewhere. She hoped someone in the busy shop would have answers for her many questions.

  Finally, Betty’s customer got up to pay, and Betty waved Kate over to her station. She fitted a large plastic bib across Kate’s front, fastening it behind her neck.

  “What were we thinking today?” she asked. “Maybe try a new look? We could go ultra short and red?”

  Kate laughed at the image. “Thanks, but I’ll stick with a trim and touch-up.”

  “Okeydoke.”

  Betty moved to the back to mix up Kate’s dye, then returned a few minutes later with a plastic cup and brush in hand. “So how have you been? I feel as if I haven’t seen you in ages.”

  She ran a comb through Kate’s shoulder-length hair and spoke to her in the mirror. “I’ve been keeping busy,” Kate said. “Helping out with Jake and Amy Lourdes.”

  The woman at the next station made a sound of disgust, and Kate turned to her, surprised by the outburst.

  “It’s a sorry day when people have to resort to counterfeiting,” the woman said, making no apology for her eruption.

  Ire rose within Kate. This woman didn’t know Tim or Amy, and yet she’d found him guilty in her inner courtroom. Kate bit her tongue and waited until the woman was done with her hairdressing before venturing into conversation again.

  “Everyone’s on edge,” Betty said quietly to Kate, probably sensing Kate’s sudden mood shift. She moved around Kate’s head as she brushed her hair. “Someone needs to help Amy and Jake in the midst of this, and I’m glad you’re there for them.”

  “Thanks, Betty.” Kate prepared to change subjects, careful not to sound as if she was fishing for gossip. “Do you know the Lovelace boys?”

  “Millie’s sons?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Not a whole lot, other than that they don’t get out much. I did hear that Buck has a girlfriend.” Betty began to brush on the hair dye, starting at the roots and working down Kate’s head. “And I know those two do a lot with computers.”

  She moved to the o
ther side of Kate’s head.

  “What exactly do they do with computers?” Kate’s mind began to spin.

  “My nephew graduated with them. He said they’re geniuses when it comes to that stuff. Programming, all of that.”

  “Hmm.” Kate let the information simmer.

  “Oh yes. He said if the Lovelace boys wanted to hack into FBI files, he wouldn’t put it past them. They’re that good.”

  “PLACE YOUR HAND HERE,” Audrey told Paul that night at dance class. She placed Paul’s right hand firmly on Kate’s waist. “And be in control. Don’t let her lead.” Audrey nodded to Kate.

  “You have to understand, this is a long-standing problem with us,” Paul quipped.

  Kate swatted him playfully on the arm. “Hey!”

  “You see what I mean?” Paul feigned a wounded arm.

  Hal came up behind his wife, a smirk on his face. “Audrey can be like that at home too,” he said.

  Audrey turned and put her hands on her hips.

  They laughed, and Kate noted how the couple treated each other with affection. Not like a couple who’d been married years and years and took each other for granted, but like a couple still deeply in love.

  Paul gave her a wink. Heat flooded her, and she squeezed his hand.

  “You’re doing very well,” Audrey encouraged as she moved on to the next pair.

  As Kate studied Audrey and Hal, she realized that she and Paul got along well with them. There was a camaraderie whenever they were together that she found enjoyable.

  After the others had left when class was finished, Kate and Paul waited for Audrey and Hal near the piano. Audrey lifted her robin’s egg eyes to Kate, the corners crinkling in familiar lines.

  “We were wondering if the two of you would like to have supper together some night,” Kate said when Audrey came over. “We know how hard it can be to make friends in a new town.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” Audrey said, fluttering a ring-encrusted hand to her chest. Hal offered one of his agreeable nods, and she said, “When were you thinking?”

  “Well I have choir tomorrow night and, of course, dance on Thursday, so how does Friday look for you?”

  “Perfect!”

  THERE HAD BEEN NO JOB OFFER for Amy Lourdes on Tuesday or the following days that week, though the authorities also hadn’t shown up at her door with accusations of her collusion in the counterfeiting scheme either. So Kate supposed that was a silver lining—but not much of one.

  Amy had several interviews on the following days as well, including that Friday afternoon, and Kate stayed with Jake to make things easier on her.

  Kate was watching a children’s television show with Jake, who had fallen asleep on the couch, when the front door opened, then banged shut. Kate saw the strain on Amy’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” She moved over to the young mother.

  Amy sighed and shook her head. “I didn’t expect the rumors,” she said in a low voice.

  “Rumors?”

  “It seems no one wants to hire the wife of a counterfeiter. Did Tim tell you that the bank fired him?”

  Kate shook her head.

  “They didn’t even bother calling. I got a letter in the mail.” She held up the white sheet of paper.

  A mere paragraph in length, it read,

  Dear Tim,

  Given the pending investigation and trial, we have decided to terminate your employment, effective immediately. The charges of counterfeiting are serious and could hurt the reputation of the bank; therefore, we feel we have no other recourse. Since this falls under the category of “termination for cause,” there are no unemployment benefits available to you.

  Melvin McKinney

  Manager, Mid-Cumberland Bank and Trust

  “I don’t know what I can do,” Amy said when Kate handed the letter back. A shimmer of tears slipped down her cheek. “If we can’t keep up our health insurance premiums...”

  Kate didn’t know what to say but tried to comfort the young woman with a hand on her back. Though she knew that without the funds to pay for their essential needs, such as their rent and health insurance, the mother and son might well be on a path to complete devastation.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Kate made it home, slipped into clothes for supper and was in the car by six o’clock with Paul by her side.

  After Amy had calmed down, Kate had assured her that God had not forgotten her family. And there were good-hearted people at Faith Briar, dear people who would give their all for someone in need. Amy simply needed proof of it.

  “Did the Harpers say why we couldn’t just meet at the Bristol?” Paul asked, pulling Kate’s attention to the present.

  “Audrey wanted to show me the house now that she’s all settled and decorated.” She smiled at him. “It’s a girl thing. Besides, it’s always good to carpool.”

  THE ENTRANCE TO THE HARPERS’ winding driveway was surrounded by lush flower beds and a well-groomed lawn. The cobbled drive wound amid ferns and thick deciduous trees until the view of misty ridges and valleys opened up beyond. Then the house came into sight. A stone structure with banks of windows trimmed in white, it looked as though it had been there for centuries, kept pristine by each successive generation.

  Audrey was in the front yard when they approached the house. She bent to pick weeds, then straightened as a broad smile filled her face. Paul pulled up in front of the three-car garage, where a Town Car and a vintage Porsche were parked in front of the closed doors.

  “I’m sorry, but if I see a weed, I have to pull it,” Audrey said, holding up the plants in her hands, though she was attired in a nice dress for supper. She tossed them to the side and wiped the dirt from her hands. “I’m so glad you made it.”

  Kate and Paul got out of the car and admired the colorful flower beds.

  “Want to come see the house?” Audrey tilted her head toward the lovely home.

  The Hanlons followed her as she moved through the front door and into the entryway.

  “You’re our first visitors,” Audrey said, gesturing toward a staircase that wound to the second story. A chandelier overhead sparkled on the hardwood floors. The walls were a distinguished shade of mauve, lending to the sense of refinement.

  “Every wall was covered in wallpaper when we moved in,” Audrey said with a laugh. “Took me a very long day to get it all off.”

  She moved down the hall toward the back of the house, where the darling kitchen with granite countertops and maple cabinetry gleamed.

  Turning on the water, Audrey washed her hands, drying them on a kitchen towel. “Hal and I had the kitchen redone. The laundry room is back there.” She motioned toward a room off the back of the house, flanking the back of the garage.

  “This is beautiful,” Kate commented, taking in the vista beyond the bank of windows that overlooked hazy-blue mountains and valleys. A dining room and great room spread toward the north, a single space with each area defined by changes in flooring. Every piece of furniture seemed suited to Audrey’s flamboyant yet classical sensibilities.

  “Come.” She led the way back to the entry. “The library and formal dining room are down here too.” These rooms flanked the front of the house. Floor-to-ceiling book shelves made up the walls of the library with a rolling ladder attached to the top of the shelving. The oversized coffee table held numerous periodicals; Kate noted dance magazines as well as financial digests. One wall held a glass case filled with dancing trophies. Kate bent to study the inscriptions. While some were for specific dances, many read “Latin Rhythm Champion.”

  The upstairs was equally lovely, with three guest bedrooms and sweeping views.

  “This is the Paso Doble Room,” Audrey said of one bedroom with burnt red walls and a Latin feel, its focal point a painting of a matador with cape extended.

  “That’s impressive,” Kate said.

  “Thank you. That’s one of my originals.”

  Kate moved to study it closer. The use of colo
r and texture was outstanding, especially for a watercolor. “You did this?”

  Audrey nodded. “After dance, painting is my next love.”

  “How do you find time to do all this?” Kate asked.

  Paul’s mouth hung open in obvious awe.

  Audrey shrugged. “It’s a hobby, just like dancing. I love it.”

  “Could I hire you to decorate my place?” Kate kidded.

  Her worn-out rambler had grown on her, with its tiny, outdated kitchen and foggy-glassed patio door. Something about it said “home” even though it was far from perfect like this place was.

  Paul’s expression said, We can’t afford this on a pastor’s salary!

  When the group walked outside, Hal was just coming from the side door of the garage. He wiped his hands on a shop rag.

  “The garage is still a wreck,” Audrey said, nodding toward the three-car garage with carriage-house doors. “That’s where Hal keeps all his man stuff.” She waved a hand. “Boring.” She smiled, then turned to her husband. “Are you almost ready to go?”

  “In a minute,” Hal said. “Let me wash up.”

  He disappeared into the house and returned a few moments later, scrubbed and ready. They climbed into the Town Car and roared toward the Bristol.

  THE BRISTOL RESTAURANT was inside the Hamilton Springs Hotel. The Hanlons and the Harpers made their way inside the wide double doors that opened onto a massive foyer with double staircases that wound their way up to the floors above.

  The restaurant was to the left of the foyer. A tall waiter led them to a table for four alongside a bank of divided windows overlooking a pond. Ducks swam across the glassy surface, and Kate could see children with fishing poles at the ready along its shores.

  Audrey sighed contentedly as the waiter handed them their menus and left to get their beverages.

  “This is a great idea.” She looked at her husband. “Hal is much more introverted than I am, so moving to a new town and making friends isn’t as big a deal to him. But for me...I just need that connection more.” She splayed a hand across her throat.

  “I’m the same way,” Kate said. “It’s important to find friends wherever you live.”

 

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