Once in a Blue Moon

by Sharon Sala

  “Hope wanted ribs from Granny’s and a piece of Mercy’s chocolate pie,” Jack said.

  “So do I. I hope you brought enough for all of us,” Duke said.

  Jack laughed. “You know I did, so stop worrying. Hope should be here around four thirty or so. I’m going to put the ribs in the warming oven and the pie in the fridge.”

  “Sorry I didn’t get your call earlier,” Duke said, as Jack began putting away the food.

  “Yeah, where were you?” Jack asked.

  “Over at the old Bailey place. I’d already walked the land, and I wanted to go through the house, too. Rhonda said the family is going to put the house up for sale, and I think I’m going to make an offer. The house is amazing, but it needs some TLC for sure,” Duke said.

  Jack frowned. “It needs more than tender loving care. It needs an overhaul. Are you sure you want to redo an old one instead of building something new?”

  Duke nodded. “Yeah. You know me. I like vintage way better than modern.”

  “You like a little redhead, too, don’t you?” Jack asked.

  “Maybe, but I’m not discussing her,” Duke said.

  Jack grinned. “Dammit. I never thought I’d see the day, but I do believe you are finally falling for a girl.”

  “She’s no girl. She’s a woman…a beautiful woman,” Duke said.

  Jack grinned again. “I stand corrected.”

  * * *

  Rand Lawrence was working from home today, running searches on Cathy Terry. His soon-to-be wife, Kellie Steele, was making cookies. He could smell them from his office. Kellie was used to his lifestyle and the times he was on stakeout. It was part of his job. But she didn’t like that he was working for Blaine Wagner. She hadn’t said so, but he could tell how she shut down every time Blaine called him.

  She used to work as a hostess at The Still, a restaurant in the Mirage, and she’d told him how Wagner, who was still married, always hit on the pretty young women who worked there.

  When Kellie came into his office carrying a plate of warm oatmeal cookies, he groaned.

  “Honey, those smell amazing. You’re so good to me,” he said, and hugged her around the waist as he grabbed a cookie and took a big bite. “And they’re delicious. Thank you.”

  She smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair, then began massaging the back of his neck.

  “Oooh, that feels as good as these cookies taste,” Rand said.

  “You’ve been in here for hours. I figured the muscles were tight. What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Running a couple of searches for a client.”

  “Who’s the client?” she asked.

  He sighed. “Blaine Wagner. He’s trying to locate his ex-wife.”

  Kellie frowned. “But you said she left Vegas. Why does he care where she went? They’re divorced.”

  Rand shrugged. “I have no idea,” he said, and put the last half of the cookie in his mouth and went back to work.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Kellie asked.

  “Maybe a refill on my coffee?”

  She gave his shoulders one last squeeze and then picked up his empty cup. “I’ll be right back.”

  Rand glanced back at the screen, then rolled his eyes. There were so damn many females with the name Cathy Terry that there was no way he was ever going to find her.

  He knew she had a new driver’s license. He’d verified that with the Nevada DMV, but she’d left her Lexus in the parking garage at her Las Vegas apartment. There was no record of her registering a car title for a new car. No record of her leasing a car, and there were a million places to rent that would never run background checks on anyone. She could be anywhere—even out of the country with a fake passport and a fake name, for all he knew—and he wasn’t into hacking into government databases. He did have her social security number, which would not change, despite whatever name change went with it.

  The fact that she’d gotten thirty million dollars in the divorce settlement was probably a factor in her not trying to find a job, which would have ultimately revealed her location when her paychecks were issued. He had to give it to her. Cathy Terry sure knew how to disappear.

  Chapter 9

  Cathy was at peace with herself for the first time in years. She didn’t have to pretend she knew nothing about Blaine’s other women. She didn’t have to pretend to their social circle that everything was wonderful about being married to one of the wealthiest men in Nevada. And hopefully, she’d gotten far enough away to be safe from his threats.

  Renting the car shifted her perception of being powerless, too. Even as she was making herself some supper, she was planning a shopping trip to Savannah tomorrow. She needed clothes and shoes. The little boutique in Blessings was great for a special-occasion outfit, but she needed to replace a wardrobe, and that meant hitting a mall somewhere.

  She also needed a good basic cookbook. She knew how to cook, but she didn’t remember the ingredients that went into all of the recipes from when she and her mother were together. And after she married, the chef and the servants had done everything for them. She’d lost herself in that world and forgotten who Mary Cathleen Terry had been and everything her daddy had taught her. But it was all coming back. She was reclaiming her sovereignty, and it felt good. What she wasn’t ready to do was reconnect herself to the World Wide Web and negate everything she’d done to disappear.

  So, without the cookbook, she’d settled for a molasses cookie mix—one of the add-egg-and-milk-and-stir mixes. But the scent of cookies baking was amazing, and if they tasted half as good as they smelled, she was in for a treat.

  She was taking the pan of cookies out of the oven when her phone rang. She set them aside, turned off the oven, and then ran to answer.

  “Hello!”

  “Hi, honey. Just wanted to touch base with you before the day was over.”

  “Duke! Your timing is great, but you’re in the wrong place. I just took molasses cookies out of the oven.”

  Duke could hear the smile in her voice and wished he was there. “You are such a tease. Have you had a good day?”

  “Yes, it was great! I rented a car, and for the first time since I came here, I stocked up on more than just basic groceries.”

  “Now you’re mobile. That’s great! Oh…I don’t know if you heard the news or not, but Hope found our cattle rustlers. They came into the ER today. She recognized one of them had the same cut in the heel of his boot that they’d found at the scene of the crime, and called Chief Pittman. Both men confessed and they’re in jail.”

  “Oh my gosh! No! I hadn’t heard. It’s good to know who they are and get them locked up so it doesn’t happen again, but it doesn’t bring your cattle back.”

  “No, they’re gone.”

  “Did you know the men who did it?” she asked.

  “Well, everybody knows everybody around here, so yes, we knew them, but the rub was they were our neighbors. Jack even went to school with one of them.”

  “What a shame,” Cathy said. “I’m assuming there was no violence or danger to Hope?”

  “No danger at all. Once she called Lon, she was out of the picture.” There was a brief moment of silence between them, and then Duke asked, “What’s on your agenda for tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to Savannah. I need clothes and shoes. All I own is what I was packing on my back. And I’m going to look at cars, too, if I have time. If I do decide to buy one in the next few days, I’ll need a ride to Savannah to pick it up. I can always get an Uber out of Savannah to come get me, but you told me to ask, so—”

  “You absolutely do not hire someone to come get you and take you to Savannah. I’ll take you, gladly.”

  Cathy smiled to herself. “Okay. Just checking,” she said, and then put the phone on speaker and began taking the cookies off the baking sheet and putting th
em on a plate.

  “I’m coming to the bank day after tomorrow. If you’re not going to be busy, I’d love to take you out for dinner at noon.”

  “I accept,” Cathy said.

  “Granny’s okay?”

  “Granny’s is perfect,” Cathy said. “I’ll be here. Come by when you’ve finished with your business. You don’t need to call first.”

  “I’ll see you then. Save me some of those cookies,” he added.

  “I will,” Cathy said, and then sighed as the connection was broken. She could listen to that deep, raspy voice all day, but for now she’d settle for phone calls and lunch.

  * * *

  Cathy left for Savannah just before 9:00 a.m. the next morning. It was a beautiful fall day and the Thanksgiving dinner she’d been invited to was now only four days away. A perfect time to be out and about, and she made the drive to Savannah in a little over an hour.

  She’d done a little research last night on her phone, checking out mall locations and car dealerships, and had decided to do the shopping first and a quick reconnoiter of the dealerships last—just to get an idea of the models that appealed to her.

  Her timing was perfect as she arrived at the Savannah Mall on Abercorn Street. It was just after 10:00 a.m. and the mall had just opened, so parking was not an issue. She picked a spot closest to one of the entrances and got out, locked the Jeep, then dropped her keys in a small fanny pack she was wearing—which was a good reminder to add buying a purse to the list of things to purchase—and headed inside.

  She found one of the mall maps just inside the entrance to check out locations of different stores. She’d been quite the shopper in Vegas, but her lifestyle had demanded it.

  Today was different. Cathy bypassed all of the high-end shops and headed to a Dillard’s to buy pants and tops. Once she tried on a brand and a size, she began choosing outfits from the selections. She bought some that came as a set, and some that were all mix and match. Her arms were already full of purchases, and she hadn’t even begun to look at a few dressier outfits or lingerie, so she made a quick trip out to her car, noticing that the parking lot was filling up fast.

  She dumped her bags in the back, locked the car, and headed back inside. This time she went to jeans, long-sleeved knit tops, and a couple of sweatpant outfits before moving to the socks and underwear area.

  Once again, her arms were full, and she was on her way out to unload when a woman came hurrying out of a side aisle and almost knocked her down.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry!” the woman cried. “I wasn’t looking where I was… Oh my God, Cathy Wagner!”

  Cathy stared in disbelief. Pamela St. James! Her husband did business with Blaine. She’d been to their parties in Vegas. What the hell was she doing in Savannah? And why had fate seen fit that they must meet like this when Cathy had gone to all this trouble to disappear?

  “I’m not Cathy Wagner,” she said.

  Pamela grabbed her by the arm. “Yes, you are! You disappeared from Vegas. We all wondered what happened to you.”

  “Let go of my arm.”

  Pamela was so shocked by the hard edge and aggressive tone in Cathy’s voice that she not only turned her loose, but stepped back.

  “I am not Cathy Wagner anymore. I’m Cathy Terry, and I didn’t disappear. I left. And what was it to you? You conveniently forgot to be a friend when I was no longer the key to your invitations to the famous Wagner parties.”

  Pamela’s face turned a bright shade of pink. Truth hurt, and without the circle of friends she ran with to back her up, she wasn’t as willing to challenge this woman as she’d been back in Vegas.

  “It wasn’t like that,” she muttered.

  “Yes, it was like that,” Cathy said.

  Pamela quickly shifted the conversation. “Do you live here now?”

  “You think I’m going to tell you my business? I came to the other side of the country to get away from all of you.”

  Pamela persisted in spite of Cathy’s very blatant rejection.

  “I’m here because my grandmother died. Her services are tomorrow. I thought I’d pick up a little something to wear to—”

  “My sympathies to your family,” Cathy said, and went out the door. She left her packages in the car and went back in another entrance to get shoes.

  She didn’t know or care if Pamela was watching or following her, but she wasn’t going to panic and run. Not anymore.

  Pamela had been watching, and when Cathy went back inside the mall, she ran outside to Cathy’s car and took a picture of the car and the license tag, and then headed for her mama’s Lincoln that she’d borrowed to go shopping. Once inside, she pulled up the Houseparty app on her phone, and as her friends began joining her, she happily spread the news.

  Before long, all of Cathy’s old inner circle of friends knew where she’d gone, and as Pamela put it, “how shabbily she’d been dressed.” Since all of them were well aware of the huge settlement Cathy had gotten in the divorce, they knew how she dressed had nothing to do with a lack of money.

  “Maybe she just went back to her roots,” Pamela said in a catty little tone, which made all of the girls shriek with laughter.

  “Her mother worked in a casino, remember?” one of them said.

  “Well, so did she!” Pamela said. “That’s where Blaine met her. It’s no wonder their marriage didn’t last. He married beneath himself.”

  “She is really pretty,” one of the girls said.

  “Pretty girls in Vegas are as plentiful as the sand on which the city was built,” Pamela snapped. “Anyway, I solved the mystery. Now we know where she went.”

  “I wonder if Blaine knows?” another woman asked.

  “Why would he care?” Pamela asked.

  And then one small voice in the crowd said, “I don’t know, but I heard he had someone watching her the whole time she was still in town. That would freak me out. I don’t blame her for leaving.”

  It was like throwing ice water on a pair of fighting tomcats. The hush that followed was obvious, and then one by one, they each began to sign off until Pamela was alone. She saw a text from her mother and sighed. Time to get back to family duties. The sooner they buried Mamaw, the quicker she could get home to Vegas.

  * * *

  It took exactly two hours from the time Pamela initiated the Houseparty chat with her friends to Blaine’s phone ringing as he was on his way to lunch. It was one of his golfing buddies, and he smiled as he answered.

  “Hello, Donny, are you ready for me to whip your ass on the back nine again?”

  Donny Burton laughed. “No, and I was just having a bad day…but I have a little news I thought you might find interesting.”

  “What’s that?” Blaine asked.

  “I know where your ex went.”

  The skin crawled on the back of Blaine’s neck, and then he smiled. He’d been thinking about letting all this go, but this was a sign.

  “And you know this, how?” he asked.

  “Pamela St. James’s grandmother passed, and she went back to Savannah for the services. She ran into Cathy at a local mall. Pamela doesn’t know where she lives exactly, but she was buying lots of clothes and driving a rental car. I think my wife said Pamela even took pictures of the rental and the tag. I guess she thought she was really playing detective, right?”

  “Savannah, Georgia. Interesting,” Blaine said. “Give me a call when you’re ready for another game of golf, my friend.”

  “Will do,” Danny said, and disconnected.

  The moment he was off the phone, Blaine called Rand Lawrence.

  Rand answered on the second ring.

  “Hello. This is Rand.”

  “It’s me,” Blaine said. “I have a big lead on Cathy. Pamela St. James saw her in Savannah, Georgia, in a mall. She has to be using credit cards. And contact Pamela.
I was told she took pictures of the tag and the car Cathy is driving. I want a firm location. Even if you have to go there to find her, do it.”

  Blaine hung up in his ear without giving Rand time to respond.

  “Dammit,” Rand muttered.

  Kellie was making them sandwiches for lunch when the call came in, and when she saw the look on Rand’s face as he listened, she stopped, waiting for him to hang up.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “That was Wagner again. He has a big lead on his ex’s whereabouts and wants me to chase her down…even go to Georgia to do it.”

  Kellie stopped, her eyes narrowing angrily.

  “I’ve just about had enough of this. I don’t care how much money he’s paying you to hound this poor woman. She’s no longer his business, and what he’s doing is stalking her. There are laws against this, and you’re going to wind up in jail doing his dirty work. I’d like to think you have enough honor and decency to tell him no, but I’m about to give you some incentive. If you continue on this case for Wagner, I’m feeling the need to reconsider what kind of man I thought you were. You may not be the right man for me after all. It’s one thing to go on stakeouts to get information, but this is way beyond good sense, Rand.”

  Then she put his sandwich down in front of him and walked out of the room.

  Rand was speechless. He’d never seen this coming and at first was upset. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was right. He got up and followed her into the bedroom.

  “I’m taking the file I’ve accumulated on her to his office and telling him I quit. No amount of money is worth losing you, and you’re right. Cathy Terry deserves to be left alone.”

  “Thank God,” Kellie said, and hugged him.

  Rand sent Blaine a text.

  I need to speak to you in person. Name a time and place.

  Then Rand and Kellie sat down and ate lunch together without mentioning another word about Wagner or his ex.

  Blaine received the text during lunch and frowned. He did not like the tone of it, and ignored it. Saving it for later.