Starr Tree Farm

by Ellen Parker

  “You have beautiful eyes, Mrs. Tanner.”

  Chapter Six

  Laura parked next to Brad’s Chevy Silverado Saturday morning. Her toes did a little warm tingle at the possibility he might also be in the café. Then in the next breath she reminded herself it didn’t matter how well he’d grown up or the amount of patient kindness she’d seen evidence of in the past few days. Her love and loyalty remained with Scott. She’d not allow her heart to be distracted until her husband’s killer was brought to justice.

  A few moments later, she peered into the window of Springs Press. Uncle Daryl had told her he ran his low profile detective agency from the building. She briefly considered trying the door and examining the intriguing old store from the inside but she did have a breakfast appointment. She gazed in at a small, tidy, almost bare space. A tall counter dominated the room. A person had to look carefully to see a hinged section permitting access. Bookshelves behind the counter hosted half a row of binders plus a few shorter books on a second level. Not a photo on a wall or even a tired potted plant softened the abandoned impression.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Tanner.”

  She looked away from speculating on the number of computers and phones behind the plain door to the back room and straight at Myles Wilcox. “And a fine Saturday to you.”

  “It’s looking good from where I stand.”

  A warm blush pooled on the back of her neck. A blink and a quick breath reminded her that she was not speaking to a full size, living poster of Scott. She adjusted her shoulders and started to walk to the café on the corner. Her mind hunted for a topic other than weather as he remained within an arm’s length. As they neared his office a sparkle caught her attention. “Are the trophies yours?”

  “Yes. I’ve nine so far. I’m going for a dozen. Do you shoot?”

  Shoot? Guns? She worked a cold lump of fear and surprise down her throat and took a closer look at the statuettes. The small figures held tiny metal rifles aimed into the street. The bowling balls or softball bats she’d expected turned into symbols of death and violence. “No. I’m not much for guns.”

  “No problem.” He pushed his hands into both pockets of his leather coat and fell into step beside her. “I’m on my way to coffee. May I treat you?”

  “Another time. I’ve got a business meeting.” One quick glance of his profile convinced her to keep her gaze away. Where she’d always found Scott’s presence inviting and comfortable, this mirror image urged formal distance.

  “I’ll remember that.” He opened the first door and invited her to brush past.

  The sleigh bell still jingled when Laura spotted Kathy Miller in the first booth and she seized control of the situation. “I see my appointment waiting,” she said and headed toward the end of the table.

  “Morning, Mayor Miller.” Myles gave a casual wave to the lady in the booth.

  “Nice to see your sidewalk cleared promptly this time around.”

  “Give a man a break, Mayor. First snow came early this winter and caught me unaware.” Myles shook his head with a smile before continuing across the room and claiming a stool at the counter.

  “Laura Tanner.” She offered her hand.

  “Please, call me Kathy.” The mayor grasped Laura’s hand and made brief, direct, eye contact before waving her to sit down.

  “My compliments on your village website. You’ve chosen very nice photos. Including your own,” said Laura.

  “I’ll forward your kind words to my daughter. I twist her arm with pumpernickel when the site needs an update.” Kathy gave a smile identical to her pose on the web.

  “May I tempt you with breakfast, ladies?” Amy set down water for Laura and filled both coffee cups. “Dare I ask if my brother behaved himself the other day?”

  “He acted the gentleman the entire time.”

  “It’s a miracle. Best you mark that in your calendar.”

  Laura studied the laughter reaching Amy’s eyes. Scott and his brother often bantered with affection. Past tense. She swallowed down the realization that in addition to everything else, she’d never witness another round of teasing between the Tanner brothers. As an only child she learned early that even the best of friends shared a different bond from siblings. “The morning contained its share of memorable moments. I’ll have the sunrise special with the eggs scrambled.”

  “Same for me,” Kathy reached for her mug.

  “Have it up in a jiffy.”

  “Now,” Kathy pulled her laptop away from the window and opened it. “This is the mayor’s office, portable style. What’s the first burning question on your mind today?”

  Laura reached into her coat pocket for her small notebook. Her fingers closed around the smooth, distinct shape of her business card case. Thought I’d lost that. How did it get into the opposite pocket? She glanced toward the counter. Myles appeared to be interested in his coffee as he added a little pancake syrup. An instant later, she chilled at the memory of his closeness last night at Jack’s and moments ago on the sidewalk.

  Without warning Myles stared in her direction a heartbeat longer than friendly. Laura lowered her gaze, reluctant to label him a flirty, well-dressed pickpocket. A moment later, her fingers calmed enough to turn to a fresh page of paper and write the date bold. “Let’s start with the mundane, shall we? What’s the garbage collection schedule?”

  One topic led to another in their semi-formal meeting. They slowed, but did not abandon their conversation when breakfast arrived.

  “I’m feeling more fortunate by the moment that you had this morning available.” Laura opened a jam packet. “Does everyone have more than one job around here or have I just stumbled across a select group?

  “I’ve only the two. Nurse administrator for the Care Center pays the bills. Mayor is definitely part-time hours and in my view more or less an experiment in public relations.” Kathy raised a piece of crisp bacon to her mouth. “Has anyone … well, he’s running late today.”

  Laura turned her head and smiled at Uncle Daryl.

  “Two of my favorite women in the same place. How thoughtful of you.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on Laura’s cheek. A moment later, he repeated the gesture for Kathy before adding a few whispered words.

  Daryl has a sweetheart? Laura didn’t remember any serious mention of women in his life. Maybe retirement allowed him to develop more than church organist duties. A quick glance at the other patrons showed her they paid no special attention to the whispered conversation between the mayor and her uncle.

  “Do you want to join us?” Kathy began to slide over on the bench.

  “No, no, continue as before. Don’t want to disturb your discussion.” He frowned at his phone. “Just pick up where you were saying nice things about me.”

  “We’ve more interesting things to discuss than you, Mr. Mysterious.” Kathy waved him away. “Be careful I don’t find a dull needle for your next vaccination.”

  “I tremble at the mention of it.” His smile stayed at odds with his words.

  “How well do you know each other?” Laura busied her hands with her napkin. The thoughts pushing in from the edges of her mind were not for public viewing and didn’t fit her images of her uncle. “Or perhaps I shouldn’t ask.”

  “Some days I don’t think anyone’s capable of knowing that man. Then again, we’ve managed to survive each other’s teasing since I started school. He and my older brother were best pals.”

  Laura nodded but held back asking about her brother. She kept her gaze moving across the entire counter as Daryl perched on the stool next to Myles. Loving him as her uncle was the easy part. Understanding or predicting him proved more difficult than capturing fog in your hands. “You started to ask me a question?”

  “Yes, we’re having a charity basketball game tonight. I wanted to be sure you received an invit
ation. It’s the winter fundraiser for emergency services. The other event is during the annual summer fling the first weekend of August.”

  “I noticed a couple of posters.”

  Laura continued to participate in conversation at the table but remained aware of Daryl exchanging a few comments with Myles. She managed to lip read only a word here and there, not near enough to find a topic to their discussion. Amy turned away with their empty plates at the very instant Laura shivered in a wisp of cold air. One glance confirmed Myles was on his way to the door before the bell announced his departure. I have too much imagination. Only the exterior shell is Scott’s double.

  • • •

  The slender man stomped traces of snow from his shoes on the top step. Loitering on Wagoner side streets was not an option. He doubted that anyone would take special note of a man in a dark coat entering a business two blocks from the courthouse. But a person didn’t last in his business without special precautions. He took one more breath of cold air before he straightened his shoulders, pulled open the door, and stepped inside the travel agency.

  The lone visible employee of S&T Travel acknowledged his presence with one hand and continued her phone call.

  He occupied the next moments by removing his gloves and studying one of the bright posters. Advertising for a cruise along the west coast of Mexico dominated one wall in bright colors. The location did hold a certain appeal. Beaches and sunshine won imagination battles over fresh snow hiding brown grass every time. He sighed and pictured himself on a different warm beach — in a country without a common border or extradition treaty with the United States.

  “How may I help you today?”

  “Take this to Harvey.” He pushed a business card across the counter. “I’ll wait.”

  He knew the opinion she formed of him with his dark hair, fresh shave, black dress pants and polished shoes as her gaze moved over him.

  With the slightest shrug and a neutral mouth, she glanced out the front window before slipping through the door marked “private.”

  He counted her footsteps up the stairs and closed his eyes at the creak of a chair overhead. His imagination pictured Harvey. The older man would keep his face bland while sucking on his pipe. He’d pretend not to recognize the business card until she gave him a complete and precise physical description. Cold sweat crept through his shirt. What if Harvey refused to see him? The man could afford to be selective in clientele.

  He ignored the twitch below his stomach. His physical condition worsened. Soon it would interfere with his concentration. And he’d have to stay with honest work.

  No, not that. Big Eddie and his associates didn’t allow semi-retirement. A man was either in or out. Working or vanished. He swallowed down multiplying doubts. He could do this. He’d accumulated plenty in his sheltered accounts to live a decent life for a decade or two.

  And if Harvey increased his fee? He could manage. His ready resources had built up tenfold since his previous visit. Price faded in importance to cooperation and a quality product.

  At the soft creak of the interior door, he turned from staring out to a peaceful street scene.

  “Father will see you.” Disapproval transformed the woman’s face to a weary frown. “Remember to leave through the back.”

  Two minutes later, he stepped into a plain office and pulled the door firmly closed. He moved his gaze past a narrow line of smoke rising from a pipe in a round glass dish to the thin, elderly man profiled at the window.

  “How long has it been?” Harvey drew a white handkerchief from his pocket and began to polish his half glasses.

  “Two years, one month, and three days. I remember you like to be precise.”

  “I suppose I should feel a certain satisfaction in that. What do you want to be called?”

  He licked his upper lip. His nerves threatened to betray him. He blinked to banish the image of the new unwelcome resident in his adopted home. One of them had to leave the village. If he didn’t slip the wrong word into an unavoidable conversation then she’d pick up something from that infernal grapevine. He needed a secondary option in place, ready at a moment’s notice if his secrets began to unravel. Harvey controlled his access to that sort of insurance policy. “Jason Young would be nice. He’ll require the complete package for international travel.”

  “It’ll cost you.”

  Only in dollars. He unbuttoned his coat, reached into a pocket, and held up a plain thick envelope. “Unofficial copy of my birth certificate, my biography, and down payment in used Benjamins.”

  “How complete is that biography?” Harvey picked up the pipe and drew cherry flavored tobacco to a glow without losing eye contact.

  “Jason travelled to France last summer. I added a little pleasure to my business with a weekend in London. My ex-wife re-married and lives in Dallas.”

  “And what sort of business does Mr. Young travel for?”

  “Brewing.” Jason kept remnants of truth in all his identity selections. The late Mr. Young worked for a malting company currently owned by a French food conglomerate. As to the ex-wife, well, that marriage ended in an uncontested divorce a dozen years ago and she’d not cared enough to attend his funeral.

  Harvey accepted the envelope and thumbed through the contents. “Current address?”

  “How does Minneapolis sound?” Jason managed a small smile for the master forger.

  “Premium work will make this a one-third down payment.”

  Jason nodded agreement. Certain things a person in his position didn’t argue. He would resist Harvey’s timing if it didn’t suit him. Disputing price with a man known in the proper circles for quality could only bring trouble.

  “Over there.” Harvey gestured to a bookcase and removed a camera from a lower desk drawer. “We’ll need different poses for passport and driver’s license.”

  Chapter Seven

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  The familiar sound of a basketball game in progress ratcheted Laura’s heart rate and attention up a notch. Athletic shoes squeaking against hardwood floor vanished in the shouts of a crowd. She breathed in the scent of serious exercise seeping from the gymnasium and worked to keep her smile internal.

  How long? Too long? Fourteen or fifteen months at least since she and Scott worked up a Sunday evening appetite with a game of one-on-one in the driveway. She focused on the fresh green cougar stamped on her hand and willed her mind to skip further back.

  High school basketball memories gave her a solid, positive place. She contributed to the team from her placement as first or second on the bench. Her parents attended home games, arriving from work early in the second half. She wanted to call up their faces in the crowd, keep the images pleasant tonight. Instead, the instants of darkness at each blink brought back the lonely exercise of this past spring, summer, and autumn. Free throws in the driveway became exercise without joy when there was no hope Scott would appear.

  “Good evening.”

  Laura turned and found a small, simple smile for Marge, the village librarian. “What do you have for sale at your table?”

  “Raffle tickets at a dollar each. Sign the half you drop into the jar for the prize of your choice. We’ve got a nice selection this year.”

  Laura purchased her tickets and shifted her mind into new resident mode. With careful consideration, she dropped stubs into the containers for a fire extinguisher, ten gallons of gas, gift certificates from several local businesses, and an automobile winter emergency kit. She chose the final container as the buzzer sounded.

  “Cats ahead by three.” A teen flung the words to Marge and continued toward the concession window.

  “Cats? Who’s playing this game?” Laura had seen a poster or two around town but they listed “preliminary games” without specifics. The main event, Volunteer Fire Department challenging the Cry
stal Springs High School Faculty, remained half an hour away.

  “Current game is seventh and eighth grade boys, public vs. St. Mathias,” Marge reported while waving at a new arrival. “That signal was end of the third quarter. Sounds like this will be a close one.”

  “I better find a seat then. Don’t want to miss the ending.”

  Three steps inside the gym, Laura spotted Amy on the third row. Brad’s sister waved large in her direction and she hurried to join her. A familiar face would be good.

  “Saved a place for you.” Amy patted a spot of bleacher.

  “I suppose you overheard Mrs. Miller urging me to attend.”

  “Don’t make me reveal my sources. I also noticed you read the poster twice on your way out this morning.”

  “I figured you were observant. It has to be more than luck that my coffee cup never gets below a third when you’re around.” Laura moved her attention to the court where the teams broke out of their circles to begin the final quarter.

  “Brad’s one of the referees?” Laura’s attention locked in on him next to the timer’s desk.

  “Yeah,” Amy replied in an easy tone. “My brother added another occupational hat to his collection at the beginning of the season. Soon he’ll need a larger closet to hold them all.”

  Real estate salesman. Freelance journalist. Basketball official. Laura ticked off the jobs revealed to her in these few days and opened her mouth to ask about others when Amy broke the silence.

  “Brad never seems content with only one of something. He wants multiple jobs, multiple guns — ”

  “Multiple girls?” Laura blurted.

  “Not to my knowledge. But then, I’m the sister.”

  And I have no business asking. Laura felt her fair-skinned neck heat. “Sorry. My mouth got ahead of the brain for a moment.”

  “No harm. He’s never brought a girl home to Mother.” Amy chuckled. “As to the mind and tongue coordination. If I had a quarter … ”