by Lisa Preston
Maddie snorted at Doug even as she snuggled against his chest. “Oh, please. You’re going to beat me up now?” Donner-style didn’t scare Maddie, who fit with Doug like Momma fit with Papa. Greer grinned as they tumbled, touching each other in that way, unaware of his watching.
“Looks like it,” Doug said.
They jostled until Doug hollered uncle over Maddie’s shrieks and Papa’s yell from the kitchen that they not knock the house down and maybe check the woodstove.
“What’s everyone want to do today?” Papa asked, coming in from the kitchen with Momma, where they’d probably been smooching just like Doug and Maddie.
“Let’s not waste a chance to be outside,” Momma said as Doug opened the woodstove door and poked the fire.
Papa pointed at Greer against the wall, then Maddie and Doug in turns. “Greer, I’d like to see you a-horseback today. Maddie, do you and Doug want to ride?”
Maddie raised a hand. “No, thanks. Not me. Not after what Bella’s new horse did to Greer.”
“Oh, you could use Greer’s pony if you don’t trust Clipper,” Momma said. “That pony can carry you.”
“No, really, I’ll pass on riding,” Maddie said. She tugged on Doug’s hand. “Help me.”
“She’s chicken,” Doug told everybody, ducking and laughing as Maddie swatted him.
Greer felt the corners of his mouth turn up as he stood there, liking his brother. Doug teased his wife only a little, always kindly. Maddie liked to point out that she’d been in the family nearly as long as Greer. Doug swatted her for that. She smacked him back. Momma smiled and cast Maddie an adoring look. Papa went out on the front porch, gathering another armload from the woodpile and Maddie rose to help Momma clear the table in one go. They chatted like girlfriends as they swung into the kitchen.
Doug bumped Greer’s shoulder and whispered, “Hey, can you keep a secret?”
Greer swallowed then burst out, “Of course I can!” He could keep a secret like the lives of his whole family depended on it.
Doug studied him before smiling. “Maddie’s not on birth control anymore.”
Greer peered up at his brother, not understanding the man again. “Huh?”
“I mean, we’re hoping she gets pregnant. I’m going to be a daddy, buddy. You’re going to be an uncle. Someday soon, I hope.”
Gulping, Greer added a baby to the pile of dead bodies the bad man would make out of his whole entire family if Greer ever told anyone what he saw out in the woods. A little dead baby at the top of the pile.
Doug paused, looking at Greer extra long.
Tears welled up and Greer looked away from his brother.
“Hey, this is a good thing,” Doug said, alarm in his voice. “Don’t look sad. Or mad. Okay?”
“Okay.” Greer nodded agreement to get Doug off his back. Trying to picture Doug and Maddie’s baby-to-be, he wondered where a bad man would shoot a baby. In the head or body?
Doug squeezed his shoulder. “You okay, bud?”
Greer nodded again, pulling away, going for the kitchen to get milk, just for something to do.
Doug followed him, reached for him. Greer ducked away and got himself a glassful of milk. He drank deep gulps, feeling the chill, sure his insides were coated white, grateful that Doug’s attention was diverted by the women in the room.
“So, Maddie,” Momma was asking, “are you and your mom working on wedding plans this week? We sure didn’t get any of that done last week, did we?”
“The Great Greer Roundup took precedence.” Maddie laughed. “Yeah, with her new job, we’ll have no weekday time. I’m going to run a few ideas by her today or tomorrow. And I’ve got a list of to-dos. Clara recommended this terrific photographer in the city, and then that woman suggested a planning session before the wedding. The pictures are going to be epic.”
Momma nodded, distracted when they all heard Papa blow through the front door, hollering from the porch for his wife and youngest. “Baby? Greer? Let’s go.”
Baby. Imagine a shot-dead baby on the top of the pile the bad man would make of the family. Greer closed his eyes against all the noise, found the commotion was inside his head. He tightened up. Papa boomed back out of the house with another slamming fling of the door. Greer didn’t mean to jump. His glass slipped through his fingers and crashed. Cold milk seeped into his socks. He squelched a yelp and felt his chest heave for breath. Almost sobbing, he struggled to get his wind back and tried to avoid their looks. Why did they have to stare at him?
Everybody stopped joshing with everybody else. Doug and Maddie eyed him. Momma did, too. Papa was suddenly there, looking down at him. This wasn’t good.
Momma gave him a fresh glass of milk and brought the kitchen garbage can over for quick disposal of the sopping mess.
“Watch out for the broken pieces there, buddy,” Papa said.
Doug reached for the shards. “I’ve got this.”
Greer avoided their stares, fixing his gaze straight ahead. That made him look right at the belly of the person standing farthest back. Maddie. He held his breath to stop making so much noise wheezing and whistling and panting. He flinched hard when Momma put an arm around his shoulders.
“Greer, calm down,” she told him. “You dropped a glass. It’s not something to get upset about. No one else is upset, see?”
He nodded. Sure he saw. No one else was upset. But no one else knew there was a man out there who would come kill them all if Greer didn’t keep his mean secret.
CHAPTER 7
Caroline Sommers ticked the requirements off, one to a fingertip. For something old, did she count? Malcolm pronounced their love an old love, although they were a new couple. It wasn’t an insult, but an affirmation that their affection and commitment were the real thing, burnished and enduring, the old kind of love.
Something new. Being a local branch manager was new for Caroline. She’d worked for the same banking corporation in Seattle for years before moving west to be closer to her daughter. This position was the first good job to open since she’d been here. That’s the way it was in small towns, low turnover, high stability. When she came to the peninsula, Maddie and Doug were freshly married and Caroline had thought—hoped—they would start a family. She’d taken a career step back to part-time bookkeeping, daydreaming about grandmotherly days, and not bothering to color her hair as the gray accents in her short auburn waves spread. When days with grandchildren hadn’t arrived, she settled in, and soon enough, took up with Malcolm. He talked about liking the structure and stimulation of keeping his administrative position with the county, then Caroline landed the job of bank branch manager.
Borrowing Maddie’s pale blue silk scarf because it looked smashing over the cream suit Caroline had chosen for the big day prompted this silly question: Was it all right to count the scarf for both borrowed and blue? Dressing for her first day on the new job, she’d set the scarf aside, saving it for the special occasion, though it would have made a lovely accent over her lilac sweater and skirt.
Covering the traditional bases for their nuptials was a lark. She didn’t need things old, new, borrowed, or blue. She had all she needed, a good man who wanted to share the rest of his life with her. And Malcolm wanted the rest of his life to start as soon as possible. Caroline reveled in how her daughter was handling so many of the details, bringing options, finding a clubhouse to rent, the best caterer, the superlative photographer coming all the way from Seattle.
“She’s got Frankie Donner and his gang lined up to do music, so there will be dancing—”
“There must be dancing.” Malcolm looked grave, then waltzed them from her car.
“Emma’s promising a cake that she says will be the most gorgeous thing ever. She let me just point and pick among all these options for how many tiers and the shape and the flavors and fillings. And she says this cake is her gift to us.”
He laughed. “Basically, the Donners are throwing us a wedding.”
After they got the marriage
license, he held her car door open, and said good-bye with a kiss and sweet mention of looking forward to their evening together. Then he walked back into the county courthouse to the desk job he’d worked for over thirty years. She drove away beaming, late for her first day at her new job, although the bank president had excused her for the special purpose of applying for the marriage license this morning.
The license was valid for sixty-three days. They’d marry in the winter, had picked the date.
Malcolm only wanted it to be on a Thursday—they’d both been born on Thursdays, and had had far to go. He said they’d done it, gone the distance. Now they just wanted the deed done.
A sheriff’s deputy pulled his patrol car out of the bank’s parking lot as Caroline drove in. She pursed her lips. Had there been an accidental alarm trigger? Protocol was for a bank employee to exit the building and meet the responding law enforcement officer. Early morning false alarms were caused by a failure to correctly follow the opening procedures. Maybe a bank employee had come out to speak to the deputy but was already back inside.
Her low-heeled sandals made muted clicks over the tiled lobby. Bella had helped her pick out the shoes. In a small town, dress could be more casual. No serious heels, they’d decided. From the ankles up was enough to look businesslike and stylish. This was a job of managing bank employees as well as overseeing the business’s efficiency and production. She looked forward to the human resources management aspects of her position more than overseeing the bank’s financial services. And she wouldn’t make her tellers wear high heels.
Shirley, the plumpish head teller, stood at the far till, brown suit matching her hair, glasses perched on the end of her nose, watching at turns the teller helping a drive-through customer and the front lobby.
“Did we have an alarm?” Caroline asked.
Shirley shook her head, then rolled her eyes while Lena, the head of the loan department, waved and walked toward Caroline’s private office.
Shirley’s gaze? That was a stink eye. Perhaps she was one of those middle-aged women who automatically hated every younger woman with a knockout figure and more impressive credentials.
Caroline kept a smile as Lena followed Caroline into her office and closed the door. From her desk, Caroline could see the tellers’ sideways surveillance of all.
“No alarm,” Lena explained. “The sheriff’s deputy was here for a private matter. So he was directed to do follow-up at home, in the evening.”
Caroline leaned forward and smiled. “Listen, you’re right to let me know any developments I’ve missed, but you haven’t quite done that here.”
“Right, um, the police were here for Mr. Brayton.”
Caroline’s mind leaped with possible concerns on the job, because Harold Brayton was the bank president, but Lena said it was a private matter. She tilted her head. “They were here for him? Where is he?”
“He’s in his office. They came to see him because he called in a report earlier. Last week. They were just checking in.” Lena gave half a shrug and turned as though to clear her mind, not to gossip. Then she dropped her voice to a whisper that lacked hissing, just imparted confidentiality. She didn’t move as she said the words. No motion or emotion interfered with the low-volume message. “His wife … is gone, I guess. She didn’t come home all last weekend.”
“Oh? Goodness’ sake.” Caroline glanced out at the row of tellers behind the counter, one serving a customer, the others feigning busyness. The count was long done, and it was a slow morning.
Lena nodded, her cheeks pink. “I think Harry—Mr. Brayton, I mean—um, is embarrassed. He was probably thinking she’d call, but … nothing. Sort of a hush-hush thing, I think it is.”
Well, you seem to know about it, Caroline thought.
“I showed the deputy into his office,” Lena continued, “closed the blinds, you know?”
They both glanced out the office at the president creaming his coffee when Lena paused. Caroline considered the woman and was glad her Venetian blinds were open, noting how Lena checked to see if other employees were still watching them. Yes, several were sneaking peeks.
“I feel bad for him,” Lena said. “Everyone could see the police car in the parking lot, and some of the girls were talking about his wife running off.”
“Well, you phrased it well when you said it was a private matter.” Caroline had not yet met the president’s wife, and now they might never meet. She couldn’t help imagining him being there earlier with the police, the poor man.
Lena gave a halfhearted nod and returned to her desk.
Caroline had met Lena before landing the job of bank manager. Bella introduced them once in passing, perhaps in the grocery store aisle.
Lena stayed professional in their formal introductions last week when Harold Brayton showed her around. Caroline appreciated Lena’s not trying to trade on her friendship with Bella for a special relationship with her new branch manager.
“I attract great people,” the bank president had allowed when he shook Caroline’s hand with a welcome last week. He was a large man, broad-shouldered with natural authority. Black hair curled from his nostrils, crowning a moustache that bristled when he gave Caroline a rundown on their staff.
Ah, but the personalities of these employees—there were some sharp-eyed women at the bank—were forces to behold. The unspoken pecking order began to reveal itself the previous week when she’d been introduced to her two department heads. Lena’s work was always early, a neat sheet of reports on top and her in-basket clear. Her performance evaluations were tops. It made sense that this former teller with college degrees, including a master’s, had been promoted, while Shirley, who’d wanted to head the loan department—and even applied for Caroline’s branch manager job—remained the head teller. That was the rub. Caroline had nodded, understanding a warning that Shirley could be her problem employee. Judging from the attitude this morning, the teller matron made no secret of despising the radiant, newly chosen head of the loan department and customer services. Lena couldn’t help being blessed with near Barbie-doll proportions. And it was easy to see why she had gotten the promotion, why Shirley had been passed over.
Caroline bit in a sigh. Her computer’s in-box held the standard weekly security review report. She clicked back to a monthly review and frowned over an after-hours alert in the entries under the boss’s access code. He strode the floor now, cup in hand. Quite the coffee drinker.
The latent rivalry between Shirley and Lena showed in miffed expressions and pointed ignoring in the break room, making Caroline think about private coffees or lunches with Lena and Shirley, clearing the air. Malcolm said she was a natural people person and she knew he was right. The dynamics would have Caroline rubbing her temples if she didn’t nip the drama at the bud. She’d seen enough of these sorts of intra-office competitions when she worked at larger offices in the city, but small towns were no different. People everywhere had their insecurities.
“Bella thinks the world of you. She’s really happy for you and excited about your—I don’t mean to push into your personal life, but your wedding coming up. I mean, congratulations.”
Lena had caught Caroline on the sidewalk, about to enter Olympic Cake and Coffee right after work. The bakery was a perfect venue for an unplanned meeting and soon the cappuccino cheesecake remnants on white ceramic plates were all that lay between them.
Caroline blushed, tilting her head in a natural demureness that belied her deep pleasure in having such a friend as Bella. She hadn’t been sure how well acquainted Lena and Bella were, but she should have guessed Lena knew something of Bella’s personal life. Bella had graduated high school in this small town, weathered personal tragedy and scandal here. She knew nearly everyone’s story. And who knew Bella’s? Caroline shook her head.
Bella wasn’t just her daughter’s motherin-law, she was Caroline’s best friend. She was no small part of Caroline deciding to move from Seattle in the first place. Bella had introduced Caroline
to Malcolm. And Caroline knew he’d once harbored feelings for Bella. Though he’d let it go, he’d pined for her family back when there were five young Donner children decades ago. Then Bella had chosen Ardy, again. The couple who’d raised their first batch as divorced parents remarried and had Greer.
Poor Bella, she’d phoned for a shoulder to cry on about Greer. The boy had gotten goosey and jerky. Though she’d missed those years raising Maddie, Caroline was pretty sure that all kids had quirks, went through periods of regression and that’s all there was to it. She smiled. “Bella is a wonderful person, on every level. We’d be friends even if our kids hadn’t married, though that is how we met.”
“That’s right. I forgot.” Lena’s voice spiked then dwindled. “You’re in-laws.”
Caroline tipped back in the wrought iron chair as Lena’s voice grew quieter. Stilled by the wetness of the woman’s eyes and the way she suddenly spoke in an odd monotone, her lips barely moving, Caroline caught her breath, the better to listen.
Lena asked, “Do you have a lot of kids, too? I can’t imagine how wonderful that would be. A nice, huge family, all you could want.”
“I have one child,” she said. “It’s my only daughter who’s married to her middle son. Middle of the adult sons.” And she stopped herself from saying that the cappuccino cheesecake had been crafted by Bella’s second daughter, because if Lena really knew Bella, she’d know that, too.
Emma left them their privacy, her attention on a new customer, a deputy walking in, showing her a small photograph.
Lena’s face turned rosy. A part of Caroline wondered if Lena was a bit of a faker, pretending intimacy that she didn’t earn. They heard Emma tell the deputy, “She came in here sometimes,” then murmur in confidential tones.
