Nolan looked around and pointed at a corner table. “You two stay put right here. I’m going to have a cautious look around upstairs and see if it’s safe. The last thing we need is the ceiling falling in.” He put a foot on one step up the narrow stairs to the level that had once been the loft of the town’s livery and then another, gradually winding his way up.
Jillian exhaled as she sat. “It must have been awful to be here alone.”
“Not my smoothest day.” Carolyn lowered herself into a chair. “I realize there may not be much we can solve today, but I’m grateful not to be alone.”
“We’ll solve what we can. As soon as we’re sure there’s not some obvious danger of somebody getting hurt while we try to clean up.”
“I’ve got mops and buckets.” Carolyn laughed and waved a hand toward her display cases. “And plenty of chocolate for fortification.”
“At least the true valuables were protected!” Jillian said. “Dad will be relieved to see the chocolate-covered cherries are unharmed.”
They heard Nolan creaking overhead. Jillian’s phone dinged and she wrestled it from her coat pocket. “It’s Kris.”
SORRY. TERRIBLE SERVICE, the text said. WHY ALL THE MESSAGES?
WHERE ARE YOU? Jillian thumbed back.
A COUPLE DOORS DOWN FROM MY STORE.
Jillian jumped up and went to the shop’s door, pushed it open, and craned her neck out. The snow promised reprieve at last. Two lone figures, arms linked, hustled toward Digger’s Delight, one wearing purple and the other bright green.
“Jills, what happened?” Kris broke pace from Tucker’s arm and crunched ahead. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“I didn’t know myself until I got here a few minutes ago.” Jillian held the door open for them.
“My store?”
“Carolyn said it’s bad.”
Kris unzipped her jacket and dug in her jeans pocket for keys. “I have to get into my side of the building.”
“Carolyn already used her emergency key.”
Tucker’s hand was on Kris’s back. “What can I do to help?”
“My freezers.”
Carolyn was right. The water was worse in Ore the Mountain than in Digger’s Delight, but the generators were still running on both sides, and the freezers were holding a temperature that would keep the ice cream solid.
“How big is your generator?” Tucker asked. “Running on propane?”
“The tank’s big enough for six or eight hours,” Kris said.
“After that?”
Kris pulled off her knit cap and ran fingers through her hair. “In the summer I bank on selling out of ice cream by then. But today… I may just have to let it melt if the power doesn’t come back on. I doubt room temperature will get cold enough even with the power out.”
“Or we can eat it,” Tucker said.
Kris dropped her head into a palm, but she laughed. “Get serious. What am I going to do?”
“We are going to figure this out.” Tucker touched her elbow, and she looked at him and nodded.
“That’s right,” Jillian said. “We’re all here to help.”
Nolan came down the stairs. “Oh good. Reinforcements. The water’s off, but there’s some accumulation of water upstairs above the ice cream shop. We’ll have to find a way to get the water out before it weighs down the ceiling. Then we can get at the broken pipe.”
“Broken pipe!” Kris said.
“‘Fraid so,” Nolan said.
“Piece of cake,” Tucker said. “We’ll bail what we can, or get a wet vac, and then we’ll get some guys in here, clear out the mess, make the repairs. The downtime will be minimal.”
“You think so?” Kris asked.
“I do.”
She scratched a cheek. “Well, it’s the slow season for ice cream. I’ll just have to officially close if the main problem is on my side of the building. I hope my insurance covers this.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Tucker said. “I have it covered.”
Kris gazed at Tucker with acceptance and none of the fiery refusal of the day he wanted to buy her boots. Jillian didn’t believe in love at first sight. But what about love in five days?
“Okay,” Kris said. “But we should get Carolyn open as soon as we can.”
CHAPTER TEN
Maple Turn, Missouri, 1946
Finally, the war was over.
To Matthew’s mother’s great relief, his father hadn’t been drafted. At forty-six when Pearl Harbor exploded, Judd had aged out of the peacetime draft registration. But while the war had not silenced talk of Judd’s starting his own business, it did slow the reality. He’d settled on plans for a small manufacturing and retail business for cabinet handles and screws. As soon as the United States entered the war, metal went into short supply for anything other than the war effort.
Judd and Alyce bided their time. The war jump-started the economy, sales picked up even in hospitals, and Judd shot to the top of his region. In addition, he became an adviser for supplying army hospitals without having to leave North America. He traveled even more.
And added to his capital.
Matthew didn’t have to listen through the radiator hole as much. When Judd was away from the house, his home office was uncluttered, but when he was home in the evenings, he took out the plans for the new business even though implementation was put on hold. Potential real estate sites that could accommodate a factory and a nearby home. Drawings for a factory and a retail store with room for future expansion. Staffing projections. Financial models. Five-year growth charts. A business plan to present to the bank for a loan application. If Alyce had objections to where the down payment came from, she kept them to herself.
If anything, Judd became more aggressive, arguing among other things that Matthew’s college years would be upon them in the blink of an eye once the war was over. They would have to be positioned for positive revenue rapidly. Matthew understood more and more of the business terminology every year. New metals would gradually become more plentiful with the war over. For now, Judd planned to melt scrap so he could create original designs for the cabinetry hardware. He had dozens of sketches. He would start with a few he believed would be the strongest mass sellers and gradually add in a premium line. Already the construction of new housing was taking a rapid upward turn everywhere in the country, and all those new houses needed new cabinets, and all those new cabinets needed hardware. Judd had big plans.
In the year Matthew turned fourteen, the family moved to their new, larger home separated by a grove of wide, mature maples from the gleaming factory and showroom.
Grand opening day arrived.
Judd straightened his tie in the mirror beside the front door. “We’re counting on you today, Matthew. It’s an important day for your mother.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You understand what to do?”
“Of course he does.” Alyce patted Matthew’s cheek, her green eyes lit and dancing, before tugging his shirt collar on both sides. It wasn’t crooked, but if it made her feel better, he didn’t mind.
“I just want to hear it,” Judd said.
“Show people around the factory floor and main offices,” Matthew said. “Give basic directions. Answer simple questions. Refer harder questions to you or Mr. Harding, the office manager.”
“Good.” Judd offered an arm to Alyce with a big smile. “This is our day. We’ve certainly waited long enough.”
She laid her hand in the crook of his arm, and they walked together down the steps of their new home. It certainly made his mother happy. Matthew wondered how large the mortgage was on this house compared to the old one. Judd followed through on every promise to give Alyce what she wanted. Her ivory brocade dress was fancy for daytime wear, but other than her wedding, she’d probably never had such a fancy day to celebrate. Matthew made sure the house was locked—no point in tempting fate when half of Maple Turn would be coming through the new building out of curiosity today ju
st on the other side of the trees—and followed his parents around the maples to the lawn in front of the showroom.
Grandpa Ted and Grandma Bea were waiting and looked as proud as Matthew had ever seen them. Even Uncle Alan seemed impressed, and he didn’t often let on that anyone impressed him.
Grandpa Ted kissed his daughter’s cheek and offered his son-in-law a firm handshake.
“You’ve done a fine, fine thing here, Judd,” he said. “I’ve never met a man who could put something together as well as you have here. You could have gone into high finance. I’m sure if your own parents had lived to see this day, they would be incredibly proud. I’m honored to stand in their stead and tell you I couldn’t be prouder of your perseverance to bring your dream to life. What you’ve achieved here will change the future of Maple Turn.”
“Thank you, Ted,” Judd said. “That’s my intention. Make a contribution. Give the town an employer they can count on for decades. As long as I have anything to say about it, Ryder Manufacturing will be here with the jobs Maple Turn needs.”
“Well done, Judd. Well done.”
“Matthew,” Judd said, “find Mr. Harding and ask him to open the building. The tours can begin.”
“Yes, sir.”
Matthew had been in the factory several times during construction and while machinery was being tested, and of course with others being instructed how to give tours and answer questions. Townspeople now came in droves. Some lingered in the showroom to inspect samples of the wares for sale, or even to make purchases, while others knew this might be their only opportunity, apart from employment, to see the factory itself. Hiring had already proved a competitive process. Judd intended to keep it that way—enough jobs to reassure the community of Ryder Manufacturing’s commitment but not enough that anyone would ever think a subpar performance would be acceptable. Excellence would be the standard. There would always be more people who wanted to work at Ryder than could.
“Hey, Mattie.”
Matthew spun around. “Jackson, careful!”
“No one’s listening.”
“Look around. People everywhere.”
“Gawking. Not listening.”
Jackson was not wrong.
“Okay,” Matthew said, “but don’t do that again. If Judd hears you, he’ll banish you on the spot.”
“How about a private tour?”
“You already went through once.”
“I mean the other stuff.”
“What other stuff? The showroom. The factory. The offices. That’s the tour.”
Jackson grinned, his double dimples breaking the cheeks beneath his black hair. “There’s a door in your father’s office. Where does it go?”
“Private storage.”
“What does that mean?”
“Private. Storage. A place to store things that are not the business of the public.”
“Aren’t you curious?”
Matthew shrugged. He was curious about very little concerning Judd. What did it matter what he did with a closet in his office?
“You haven’t been back there even when it was empty?” Jackson asked.
“Nope. Off-limits from the start.”
“Somebody must know what’s in there.”
“It’s a short hallway that leads to a storage room. Maybe nothing’s in there yet.”
“Then what’s it for?”
“I don’t know, Jackson. He designed a lot of the building to accommodate future growth. Maybe that’s all it is. Why does it matter?”
“Does it have a keyed lock?”
“Judd locks everything.”
“I could get you in there.”
“I don’t care, Jackson. I have to get back to the front to see if there’s another group ready for a tour.”
“Fine. Just keep it in mind. My uncle has been teaching me how to pick locks.”
“Your uncle? Your dad is the pastor!”
“Not that uncle. My mother’s brother.”
“Still.”
“It’s all in good fun, of course. No criminal background, I assure you. But I’m getting pretty good at it.”
Matthew waved off Jackson. “Stay away from Judd’s office.”
Matthew gave one tour after another—strictly the factory floor and the main offices—until it was time for the ceremonial proceedings. Mr. Harding had arranged a small stage and public address system on the lawn. Matthew’s parents and grandparents were grouped near the front of the crowd. When Grandpa Ted caught his eye, Matthew waved but hoped he would not be beckoned.
Jackson’s father took the stage to offer an opening prayer invoking God’s blessing on Ryder Manufacturing.
The president of the Chamber of Commerce gave a speech about how Ryder Manufacturing would put the sleepy town of Maple Turn on the map.
A local real estate agent assured everyone that the boost in employment base would improve property values.
The mayor’s wife welcomed Alyce as a founding member of the newly formed Maple Turn Women’s League for Town Improvement, which made Alyce flush with pleasure.
The mayor gave Judd an oversized key to the city. Matthew was sure it would be framed and hung in one of his father’s offices.
Last, Judd stepped to the podium and pulled notes for his speech from the inside pocket of his black-and-gray pin-striped suit.
Matthew had heard the speech already—many times. Judd rehearsed it. Alyce commented. Judd revised. Alyce remarked further. Judd rehearsed until the performance barely varied by more than a few words. Even the pauses and cadence were predictable. Matthew wasn’t sure why Judd bothered with the notes. Perhaps he was more given to nerves than Matthew knew. In any event, Matthew was bored, the speech would take twenty minutes to deliver, and he wanted to sit down for a few minutes of peace and quiet before the mass town picnic began. No doubt Judd would expect his son to help clean up the building and lawn at the close of the day, no matter how many people he was already paying for the task. This could be the only opportunity for respite.
Matthew ducked inside the building, where Mr. Harding nodded at him but did not interfere with his wandering. Theoretically the building should be empty at this point, the tours finished and the showroom unattended except for Mr. Harding’s presence to discourage entrance.
Judd’s voice droned over the public address system. Matthew shuffled past displays, recognizing the knobs and handles that already decorated the family’s new home as part of the initial manufacturing runs to stock the retail bins. He was surprised to find the double doors leading to the offices unlocked, and pushed through them. He had supposed everything would have been battened down once the tours concluded, but he was relieved he had the option to find an empty chair.
First he sat in the reception area. That should have been enough. He was off his feet. It was quiet. He was alone for a few minutes before going back on display during the picnic.
Why was it not enough?
The door to his father’s office was wide open. Matthew walked through it and sat in one of the visitors’ chairs. He wouldn’t sit behind the desk. He couldn’t imagine ever doing that.
“Aren’t you curious?” Jackson had asked.
Should he be? He’d seen the hallway on the drawings and the room marked Private Storage, but he’d never seen the room, not even during construction. But someone must have.
Matthew eyed the doorway that, if he was mentally matching up the drawings correctly, would lead to the private hallway. It did have a lock. But was it locked? Was there anything so valuable that Judd would really lock it? He got up, crossed the office, and laid his fingers on the handle.
“What the blazes are you doing?”
Matthew’s heart pounded under the grip of Judd’s hand on his shoulder. He’d come too far into the building to realize he could no longer hear when the speech ended.
“Matthew!” Even his mother’s voice scolded him.
“Did you somehow think you were exempt from the instructions that no
one is permitted in the area beyond that door?”
Judd’s weight on Matthew’s shoulders threatened to grind him through the floor, like one of the screws his machines would manufacture, while his brown eyes bore straight through Matthew’s thin frame.
“You must not ever disobey your father on this matter,” his mother said. “Do you understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand. I won’t.” He might faint from fright and shame if Judd didn’t let go of him. Jackson could afford to be flippantly curious. He wasn’t the one taking chances. “I promise. I understand.”
“Outside,” Judd said. “Find your grandparents. Eat some lunch and mind your own business. Don’t spoil this day for your mother.”
“No, sir.” Matthew scrambled out of the building as fast as he could.
Jackson was waiting for him out front. “Where have you been?”
“Get away from me.”
“What did I do?”
“Got me clobbered, that’s what. You and your incessant curiosity.” Matthew paced past Jackson.
“The hallway?” Jackson sidestepped to keep up with Matthew’s pace while watching his face. “Did you try the door?”
“Stupidest thing I ever let you make me think about doing.”
“Did it open?”
“I got caught.”
“Whoa.” Jackson circled ahead of Matthew, hands up.
“I’m supposed to find my grandparents and eat.” Matthew pushed Jackson off. “That’s it.”
“Nothing says I can’t eat with you.”
“Not advisable.”
“Then let me look for the door from the outside.”
“You’re crazy.” Matthew’s steps punched forward. “Besides, there are a bunch of doors. I don’t know what they all are. I haven’t memorized every detail of the drawings. It’s a factory loading dock. Why do I care?”
“It’ll be yours someday.”
“I’ll choose my own career, thank you very much.”
“I could get in any one of those doors.”
“Pick locks on your own time. And when you get arrested, don’t call me.”
“You’re breaking my heart.” Jackson pulled Matthew’s elbow. “Okay, today’s not the day. Go eat your potato salad with your grandma. But don’t forget this. The day will come. And I’ll always be here for you.”
In the Cradle Lies Page 8
